of necessity formally so, but taking their duties as lightly as they could? The number of them who outraged their vows was wonderfully small. The Inquisitions of Henry VIII.’s time, atrociously partial, as they were, to find blame, found comparatively little. Compare the monks of those days with the Fellows of Colleges in the last (18th) century, and down almost to our own day. Were the former much lower in morals, if at all? Less religious, if at all? I think not.” Nor should we forget their unbounded hospitality, in an age when there were few inns for the traveller, and no Poor Law for the destitute; their skill in horticulture and agriculture, which were a national benefit; or their maintenance of roads and bridges; apart from their guardianship of the Scriptures, and their witness to Christianity. It has been said, “From turret and tower sounded the well-known chime, thrice a day, to remind the faithful of the Incarnation, and its daily thrice-repeated memorial” (F. G. Lee, “Pilgrimage of Grace”). The poor were never forgotten in these multiplied services. When mass was celebrated, it was a rule that the sacristan rang the “sanctus” bell (from its cherished sanctity often the only bell still preserved in our village churches), “so that the rustics who could not be present might everywhere, in field or home, be able to bow the knee to reverence” (Maskell’s “Ancient Liturgy,” p. 95. “Constit.,” J. Peckham, A.D. 1281). If the strict rules of their continuous services were occasionally relaxed by exhilarating sport, or even, as the monks of Kirkstead are said to have done, by frequenting fairs, as at Horncastle, their abbots presiding at the pastimes of the people, {242} the Maypole processions and dances; or getting up mystery-plays, or other exhibitions, perpetuated still at Nuremberg, where our most cultivated Christians go to witness them; surely these were comparatively harmless recreations. It must, however, be recognised that, in time, prosperity had its usual corrupting effects. The Aukenleck MS. (temp. Ed. II.) says, “these Abbots and Priors do again their rights. They ride with hawk and hounds, and counterfeit knights.” As the Bishop of Ely attended divine service, leaving his hawk on its perch in the cloister, where it was stolen, and he solemnly excommunicated the thief; or as the Bishop of Salisbury was reprimanded for hunting the King’s deer; or as Bishop Juxon was so keen a sportsman that he was said to have the finest pack of hounds in the kingdom; {243a} so the Abbott of Bardney had his hunting box, and the Abbots of Kirkstead excluded others from sporting on their demesnes, that they might reserve the enjoyment for themselves. It is stated by Hallam (“History of the Middle Ages”) that, in 1321, “the Archbishop of York carried a train of 200 persons, maintained at the expense of the monasteries, on his road, and that he hunted with a pack of hounds, from parish to parish”; and