but he served the purpose of his mighty mother. He did, even by his
follies, just what she wanted done; and she is justified of all her
children.

This may sound like optimism: but it also sounds like truth to any
one who has fairly studied that fantastic page of history, the
contrast between the old monks and our own heathen forefathers. The
more one studies the facts, the less one is inclined to ask, 'Why was
it not done better?'--the more inclined to ask, 'Could it have been
done better?' Were not the celibate clergy, from the fifth to the
eighth centuries, exceptional agents fitted for an exceptional time,
and set to do a work which in the then state of the European races,
none else could have done? At least, so one suspects, after
experience of their chronicles and legends, sufficient to make one
thoroughly detest the evil which was in their system: but sufficient
also to make one thoroughly love many of the men themselves.

A few desultory sketches, some carefully historical, the rest as
carefully compiled from common facts, may serve best to illustrate my
meaning.

The monk and clergyman, whether celibate or not, worked on the
heathen generally in one of three capacities: As tribune of the
people; as hermit or solitary prophet; as colonizer; and in all three
worked as well as frail human beings are wont to do, in this most
piecemeal world.

Let us look first at the Hermits. All know what an important part
they play in old romances and ballads. All are not aware that they
played as important a part in actual history. Scattered through all