ade its way into
France, Spain, and Sicily. It soon drew into itself all the monks of the
west, and was divided into a number of branches, which all looked up to
Benedict as their founder; and, although it would be a sad mistake to
wish for any revival of monkery in our own days, we ought, in justice,
to see and to acknowledge that through God's providence these monks
became the means of great benefits to mankind. Not only were their
services important for the maintenance of the Gospel where it was
already planted, and for the spreading of it among the heathen, but they
cleared forests, brought waste lands into tillage, and did much to
civilize the rude nations among whom they laboured. After a time,
learning began to be cultivated among them, and during the troubled ages
which followed, it found a refuge in the monasteries. The monks taught
the young; they copied the Scriptures and other ancient books (for
printing was as yet unknown); they wrote histories of their times, and
other books of their own. To them, indeed, it is that we are mainly
indebted for preserving the knowledge of the past through many
centuries.

CHAPTER XXX.

END OF THE SIXTH CENTURY.

PART I.

We must not suppose that the conversion of the western barbarians was of
any very perfect kind. They mixed up a great deal of their own barbarism
with their Christianity, and, besides this, they took up many of the
vices of the old and worn-out nations, whose countries they had
conquered and occupied. Much heathen superstition lingered among them:
it was even a common saying in Spain, that "if a man has to pass between
heathen altars and God's Church, it is no harm if he pay his respects to
both." The clergy were very wealthy and prosperous, but did not venture
to interfere with the vices of the great and powerful; or, if they did,
it was at their peril. For instance, when a bishop of Rouen had offended
the Frankish queen Fredegund, she caused him to be murdered in his own
cathedral, at the most solemn service of Easter-day.

Religion became a protection to crime; murderers were allowed to take
refuge in churches, and might not be dragged out until after an oath had
been made that their lives should be safe. It had been the ancient
custom of the Germans to let all crimes be atoned for by the payment of
money: if, for example, a person had killed another, he had no more to
do than to pay a certain sum to the dead man's relations. And this way
o