older foundations decayed through prosperity, and ceased to act as a contrast to the world. New foundations were made with more rigorous rules, and more fervent zeal in their first occupants; they were placed in wilder spots and fenced round with greater care. But all was of no avail; and they in their turn were submerged like their predecessors. Yet no better expression of the religious life could be devised; and periods of spiritual movement were always marked by new projects for monasticism. This spirit was working in Normandy in the days of Edward, and took conspicuous shape in the great abbey of Bec, which was so intimately connected with the English Church in later days. It may be that Edward held converse with its knightly founder. Certainly he loved the abbey of Jumièges, and held its abbot as his greatest friend. Perhaps it was there that he learned his taste for architecture, his love of the actual surroundings of a church, his joy in its services.
It was to these things that his mind turned, and we may accept the words which an old poet puts into his mouth as expressing his feelings:—
When I was young in Normandy,
Much I loved the holy company
Of people of religion,
Who loved only all that was good;
Especially a monk who led
A high and heavenly life;
But two I found there most loyal,
Wise and spiritual,
Sensible and well instructed,
And virtuously disposed.
Much their company delighted me,
And through them I amended my ways
In courtesy, speech, and wisdom.
