As a temporal ruler, Charlemagne had no rival in Europe. The antechamber of this great European conqueror was filled with suppliant kings. Though unlearned himself, he did all in his power to encourage learning throughout his realms. He ordered every monastery to maintain a school; he encouraged manufactures and agriculture; and with a strong arm repressed violence, that all branches of industry might be secure of a reward. It was during his reign that the first bell was cast by the monk Tancho. The emperor was so much pleased with its sweet and solemn tones, that he ordered it to be placed on his chapel as the call to prayer. Hence the origin of church-bells. Until nearly the ninth century, the Island of Great Britain was essentially a barbaric land, filled with savage, warring tribes. Each district had its petty clans of fierce warriors, arrayed against each other. But again there bursts upon Europe one of those appalling irruptions of barbarians from the North which seems so weird-like and supernatural. One day, Charlemagne with a friend was standing upon a cliff, looking out upon the sea, when he saw quite a fleet of galleys passing by. "They are traders, probably," said his companion. "No," replied Charlemagne sadly: "they are Norman pirates. I know them. I do not fear them; but, when I am gone, they will ravage Europe." These were the fierce men who enslaved the Saxons of Britain, and put brass collars around their necks. Descending from the islands of the Baltic and the mainlands of Denmark and Norway in their war-ships, infuriated by a fanatic faith which regarded mercy as sin, these ferocious warriors, hardy as polar bears, and agile as wolves, penetrated every bay, river, and creek, sweeping all opposition before them. Devastation, carnage, and slavery followed in their train. The monasteries had gradually degenerated into institutions of indolence and sensuality. The Normans assailed the inmates of these gloomy retreats with the most relentless cruelty. They surrounded with their armed bands these cloistered walls, and, baring the monks within, applied the torch, and danced and sang as the vast pile and all its contents were wrapped in flames. They hated a religion which taught (to them the absurd doctrine) that man was the brother of his fellow-man; that the strong should protect, and not oppress, the weak; that we should forgive our enemies, and treat kindly those who injure us. Like incarnate fiends, they took special pleasure in putting to death, through every form of torture, the teachers of religion so antagonistic to their depraved natures. Such was the condition of the world at the commencement of the tenth century. Joyless generations came and passed away, and life upon this sin-stricken globe could have been only a burden. From this sketch, necessarily exceedingly brief, it will be seen that man has ever been the most bitter foe of his brother-man. Nearly all the woes of earth are now, and ever have been, caused by sin. What an awful tragedy has the history of this globe been! Almost with anguish, the thoughtful and benevolent mind inquires, "Is there to be no end to this? Is humanity forever to be plunged into the abyss of crime and woe?" It would seem that it must be manifest to every candid mind. that there can be no possible remedy but in the religion of Jesus Christ. Love God, your Father; love man, your brother: these are the fundamental principles of the gospel. Every one must admit that the universal adoption of these principles would sweep away from earth nearly all its sorrows. Sin and holiness in this world are struggling for the supremacy: it is a fearful conflict. Every individual is on the one side or the other. Some are more, and some are less zealous. But there is no neutrality: he that is not for Christ is against him. Is there not an influence coming down to us through these long centuries of woe potent enough to induce each one to declare, "As for me and my house, we will serve the Lord"? Accept the religion of Jesus; live in accordance with its teach ings then you will do all in your power to arrest the woes of humanity; and, when Death with his summons shall come, he will present you a passport which will secure your entrance at the golden gate which opens to the paradise of God. CHAPTER XXI. THE DARK AGES. The Anticipated Second Coming of Christ.-State of the World in the Texth Century. Enduring Architecture.- Power of the Papacy.-Vitality of the Christian Religion. - The Pope and the Patriarch.- Intolerance of Hildebrand. -- Humiliation of the Emperor Henry IV.- Farewell Letter of Monomaque.The Crusades. Vladimir of Russia.- His Introduction of Christianity to his Realms. Marriage with the Christian Princess Anne.- Extirpation of Paganism. The Baptism. - The Spiritual Conversion of Vladimir most universal HERE had gradually arisen an coming, through all the ages of the Church individuals have been appearing who have fixed upon a particular year when Christ was to come in clouds of glory. The year of our Lord 999 was one of very solemn import. There was a deep-seated impression throughout all Christendom that it was to be the last year of time; and, indeed, all the signs in the heavens above and on the earth beneath indicated that event. There was almost universal anarchy,—no law, no government, no safety, anywhere. There were wars, and rumors of wars. Sin abounded. There were awful famines, followed by the fearful train of pestilence and death. The land was left untilled. There was no motive to plant when the harvest could never be gathered. The houses were left to fall into decay. Why make improvements, when in one short month they might be swallowed up in a general conflagration? It is an almost inexplicable peculiarity of human wickedness, that danger and death are often the most intense incentives to reckless sin. While Christians were watching and praying for the coming of the Saviour to bring to a triumphal close this fearful tragedy of earth and time, the godless surrendered themselves to all excesses, and shouted, "Let us eat and drink; for to-morrow we die!" The condition of society became quite unendurable. Robbers frequented every wood: in strong bands they ravaged villages, and even walled towns. As all were consuming, and few were producing, provisions soon disappeared. Despair gave loose to every passion. In many places the famine was so severe, that, when even rats and mice could no longer be procured, human flesh was sold in the markets: women and children were actually killed and roasted. But; while many were thus stimulated to awful depravity, others, inspired by Christian principle, were impelled to prayer, and to every exercise of devotion which those dark days taught them could be acceptable to God. Kings, in several cases, laid aside their crowns, and, as humble monks, entered the monasteries, performing all the most onerous and humiliating duties of midnight vigils, fastings, penances, and prayers. Henry, the Emperor of Germany, entered the Abbey of St. Vanne as a monk. The holy father in charge, who was truly a good man, enlightened and conscientious, received the empe ror reluctantly. After much remonstrance, he, however, administered the oath by which the monarch vowed implicit obediencs to the authority of his spiritual superior. "Sire," said this good monk to the emperor, "you are now under my orders: you have taken a solemn oath to obey me. I command you to retire immediately from the convent, and to resume the sceptre. Fulfil the duties of the kingly state to which God has called you. Go forth a monk of the Abbey of St. Vanne; but resume your responsibilities as Emperor of Germany." The emperor obeyed with simplicity of trust, and nobility of character, which have commanded the respect of all subsequent ages. Robert, King of France, son of the illustrious Hugh Capet, entered the Abbey of St. Denis. Here he became one of the choir of the church, singing hymns and psalms of his own composition. Many of the nobles emancipated their slaves, an bestowed large sums in charity, -benevolence, indeed, which did not, perhaps, require a large exercise of self-denial, if sincere in their belief that the fires were just ready to burst out which were to wrap the world in flames. As the year 999 drew near its end, men almost held their breath to watch the result. For a whole generation, all the pulpits of Christendom had been ringing with the text, "And he laid hold on the dragon, that old serpent, which is the Devil and Satan, and bound him a thousand years, and cast him into the bottomless pit, and shut him up, and set a seal upon him, that he should deceive the nations no more; and, after that, he must be loosed a little season.' But the dawn of the eleventh century rose, and all things continued as they were from the beginning of the creation. Christians, finding that the world was not coming to an end, rallied for more energetic effort to make the world better. All Christendom combined in the crusades to arrest the progress of Mohammedanism, and to reclaim the Holy Land from Mohammedan sway. The churches were repaired. Stately cathedrals rose, those massive piles of imposing architecture which are still the pride of Europe. The impression that the world was to be stable for some centuries longer led to the projection of buildings on the most gigantic scale and of the most durable materials. Architecture became a science which enlisted the energies of the ablest minds; and here originated that Gothic architecture go much admired even at the present day. The foundations of these time-defying edifices were broad and deep; the walls of immense thickness; the roofs steep, effectually to shed rain 1 Rev. xx. 2, 3. |