person, which the king believing, banished him without a hearing. Some time afterwards the archbishop, his uncle, found means to undeceive Athelstan, and he was restored to favour, and presented with some lands near Glastonbury, where he spent several years in retirement, with certain devout men whom he had drawn together, living with them a monastic life. Glaston, or Glassenbury, was anciently a small church, founded, according to the vulgar opinion, by Joseph of Arimathea. This church having been destroyed, Devy, bishop of St. David's, built another in the same place; which being also gone to ruin, was repaired by twelve devout persons, who, coming from Armorica, settled in this place. Ina, King of Wessex, having pulled it down to the ground, raised a stately church, and dedicated it to Christ, St. Peter, and St. Paul; and several persons famous for their piety, moat of them Irish, retired thither, where they were maintained by Edgar's bounty. From that time there were always devout persons who made choice of the place for their retreat.
After Dunstan had been some time at Glastonbury, Edmund, successor of Athelstan, having conceived an esteem for him, built there a monastery, and made him abbot; and as Dunstan was a person of great address and ability, he maintained a great authority over this prince, and was very much in favour all his reign; and his interest at court even increased under Edred, to whom he was prime minister and confessor. Dunstan's extreme fondness for a monastic life made him use, without any caution, all his interest to induct the monks to the benefices, and eject the secular priests, whom he both despised and hated. His attachment to the former class, added to his arrogance, procured him abundance of enemies, and drew upon him the displeasure of Edmund's successor, Edwy, as we have already seen. Upon his return to England, he was promoted, as already stated, to the see of Worcester; and some time after, the bishopric of London being vacant, he was entrusted with the management of it; which has led some writers into the mistake of imagining he was Bishop of Worcester and London at the same time.
Edgar continued to give Dunstan fresh marks of esteem, and his regard for him was strengthened by the miracles attributed to him. After the death of Athelm, who held the see of Canterbury, Odo, by birth a Dane, was made archbishop; and to him succeeded Elfin, who died as he was going to Rome for his pall, in the beginning of Edgar's reign. Brithelm, Bishop of Bath, was elected to the vacant see; but Edgar, being desirous of making Dunstan archbishop, called a general council, where he represented Brithelm as unqualified for so great a station; whereupon he was ordered to return to his old diocese, and Dunstan was chosen in his place. This election not being perfectly canonical, it was deemed necessary that Dunstan should go to Rome, on pretence of receiving his pall, and at the same time justify these proceedings. The Pope, who was perfectly aware how extensive the influence of Dunstan was at the court of England, and who was gratified by the zeal with which he had espoused the interest of the Church of Rome and of the monks, readily confirmed his election, constituting him at the same time his legate in England, with most extensive powers.
In justification of this remarkable man's favourite project of removing the secular clergy from their benefices and supplying their places by the monks, it must be admitted that the former, as a body, had become fearfully corrupt; that luxury, gluttony, avarice, and lust reigned amongst them. Perhaps he sincerely thought to benefit the Church by a change which was clearly against the laws of the kingdom.
Dunstan caused a council of the Church to be held, at which Edgar assisted in person, and made the following remarkable oration, which is both curious and interesting as a picture of the corruptions of the clergy of the time, and his subserviency to the views of Dunstan:—
"Almighty God having vouchsafed of his infinite mercy to show his goodness to us in a remarkable manner, it is most reasonable, reverend fathers, we should exert our endeavours to make a suitable return. That we are in possession of this plentiful country is not owing to any strength of our own, but to the help of his all-powerful arm, who has been pleased to manifest his loving-kindness towards us. It is but just, therefore, we should bring ourselves, our souls, and bodies, in subjection to him who has subdued all things for us, and should take care that all that are under us should be obedient to his laws. It is my office, reverend fathers, to administer justice, without respect to persons; to suppress the rebellious; to punish the sacrilegious; to protect the poor and weak from the hand of the oppressor. It is my business also to take care that the Church and her ministers, the holy fraternities of the religious orders, have all things necessary to their subsistence and well-being. But it is your duty to examine into the life and conversation of the clergy. To yon it belongs to see that they live agreeably to their profession—that they are sober, temperate, chaste, hospitable to the poor and the stranger; that they are careful in the administration of their office, constant in their instructions to the people—in a word, that they are worthy of the glorious character of the ministers of Jesus Christ. With submission be it spoken, reverend fathers, had you taken due care of these things, I should not have had the dissatisfaction of hearing from all hands the enormous crimes daily committed by the clergy of this land. I insist not on the smallness of their tonsure, contrary to the canons of the Church, nor their effeminacy in their habits, nor the arrogance in their gestures, nor on their immodest discourses, which plainly show all is not right within. I omit their negligence with regard to divine service: hardly will they vouchsafe their company at the public prayers, and when they come to church to celebrate the holy mysteries, one would think it was a mockery. But the chief subject of my complaint—I speak it with extreme regret—is what ministers occasion of grief to the good, and of joy to the profane—I mean, the lewd and scandalous lives they lead. They spend their days in diversions, entertainments, drunkenness, and debauchery. Their houses may be said to be so many sinks of lewdness, public stages, and receptacles of libertines. There they have gaming, dancing, and obscene singing. There they pass the night in rioting and drunkenness. It is thus, reverend fathers, it is thus the bounty of my predecessors to the Church, and their charities for the maintenance of the poor, and what is more, the adorable blood of our Saviour, are consumed. Was it for this that our ancestors exhausted their treasures? Was it for this they were so liberal of their estates? Was it to deck the concubines of their priests, to provide for them splendid entertainments, to furnish them with dogs and hawks, that oar forefathers displayed their munificence to the Church?
