be met with in Dupin's Ecclesiastical History. His Latinity is pure and elegant, and his erudition vast considering the period in which he lived. To the Greek and Latin he is said to have joined an acquaint ance with the Hebrew tongue, which would seem to have formed a part of scholastic study sooner than is generally imagined. In his scientific writings he sometimes ventured to break through the pedantic formalities of established systems. Two of his treatises he has thrown into a dialogue between himself and his illustrious pupil Charlemagne. Sir John Hawkins has remarked, that he was particularly well-versed in music, as appears by his tract on the use of the Psalms, and by his preface to Cassiodorus on the Seven Disciplines.' He also wrote an Essay on Music, which is lost. The formidable catalogue of Alcuin's numerous works, comprehend homilies, lives of saints, commentaries on various parts of scripture, letters, poems, and books on the different sciences. His theological writings include a Discourse on the Words in Genesis, "Let us make man after our own image,”An Epistle on Solomon's Threescore Queens,-Questions concerning the Trinity,-Seven Books on the Incarnation against Bishop Felix, and Four Books concerning Images,-Commentaries on the Proverbs, Canticles, and Epistles of St Paul. The saints whose lives he has written are, St Martin of Tours, St Vedast of Arras, St Willibrord of Utrecht, and St Riguier the Priest. His poems consist of Hymns and Epigrams,Stanzas on a Cuckoo,—and a heroic poem on the Bishops and Saints of the Church of York, containing 1700 verses; though some are of opinion that this last, from its barbarous style, was not written by Alcuin, but by a Benedictine monk of the following century. The varied and prolific talents of those dark ages must not seduce us into too magnificent ideas of the depth or solidity of their attainments. Their merits, as Wharton has observed, were in a great measure relative. circle of reading was contracted, their systems of philosophy jejune; and the lectures of the schools served rather to stop the growth of ignorance, than to produce any positive or important improvements in knowledge. They aspired to no higher acquisitions than the prescribed curriculum or course of study; for the art of making excursions from the narrow path of scientific instruction into the spacious and fertile regions of liberal and original thinking was then unknown.

Asser.

DIED A. D. 910.

Their

ASSER, or Aysserius, was a learned monk of St David's, and a writer of considerable celebrity, though some points in his personal history are involved in uncertainty. He was of British extraction, probably a native of Pembrokeshire, and educated in the monastery of St David's, in Latin called Menevia, and hence his surname of Menevensis. His tutor or instructor is said to have been Johannes Patricius, one of the most renowned scholars of his age. Here also he was on terms of intimacy with the archbishop of that see, who was his relation. This

has given rise to a mistake which has converted Asser into two other individuals of the same name,- -an archbishop of St David's, and a reader in the university of Oxford. Bale, Godwin, Cave, and Hearne, affirm that our monk was secretary or chancellor to this archbishop, but erroneously, as there is every probability that the different persons alluded to were one and the same. Besides, he tells us himself that the name of his relation was an Archbishop Novis, though it does not appear that he was either his secretary or chancellor. Novis held that honour from 841 to 873, when he died.

From St David's Asser was invited to the court of Alfred the Great, merely from the great reputation of his learning. On his journey he met with that prince at the town of Dean, in Wiltshire, who received him with great civility, and even evinced for him the strongest marks of favour and affection, insomuch that he recommended him not to think of returning or residing at St David's, but rather continue with him as domestic chaplain, and assist him in his studies.3 Asser hesitated to accept this flattering proposal, and seemed to prefer the place where he had been educated and received the order of priesthood, to the honourable promotion offered him by the king. Alfred then expressed his desire that he would at least divide his time equally between the court and the monastery, and devote six months of the year to his society. To this request Asser replied by soliciting permission to consult his brethren, which was readily granted; but unfortunately in his journey to St David's he fell sick at Winchester of a fever, which confined him upwards of twelve months, much to the regret and disappointment of Alfred. On his recovery he repaired to St David's, and having taken the advice of his brethren on the king's offer, they unanimously agreed that he should accept it, only requesting that his change of residence should be quarterly instead of half-yearly. In this resolution private interest had some weight, for the monastery and parish of St David's had often been plundered, and their archbishops sometimes expelled by Hemeid, a petty prince of South Wales. From the favour and friendship of one of their members with Alfred, the pious monks hoped to derive great advantages in the repression of those violent inroads to which they were exposed. When Asser returned he found the king at Leoneforde, who received him with great kindness and civility. His first visit continued for eight months, during which time he read and explained to the prince whatever books were in his library. Their mutual esteem increased with their acquaintance; and on the Christmas-eve following, Asser received a gift of the monasteries of Ambrosbury in Wiltshire, and Banwell in Somerset, with a silk pall of great value. The royal bounty was accompanied with the generous compliment that "these were but small things, and by way of earnest of better that should follow them." promise was soon fulfilled, for the bishopric of Exeter, and, not long after, that of Sherborne was bestowed on him. The latter of these preferments he seems to have relinquished in 883, a circumstance which has misled Matthew of Westminster, and other writers, to place his death in that year. He was succeeded in the see of Sherborne by Sighelm, who was employed by Alfred to carry his alms to the Christians of St Thomas in India; but the Saxon Chronicle clearly proves that Asser Biog. Brit. I. 408. Asser. Menev. Ed. Oxon. 1722. p 47. Asser Menev. Ed. Oxon. 1722. p. 50.

The

survived his quitting that bishopric for seven and twenty years, though he always retained the title,- -a fact which will account for the supposition of his decease at the time when his successor was appointed. From this period he was a constant attendant at court, and is named by Alfred in his testament-which must have been written some time before the year 885-as a person in whom he had particular confidence. He is also mentioned by the king in the prefatory epistle prefixed to his translation of Gregory's Pastoral,' addressed to Wulfig bishop of London, wherein he acknowledged the assistance he had received from him and others in that undertaking. The method used by Alfred in translating, we learn both from himself and his instructor, was to give the sense and substance of his author rather than the exact words.

It seems to have been the near resemblance of their genius which gained Asser so great a share in the royal confidence, and which very probably was the occasion of his drawing up those memoirs of the life of Alfred, dedicated and presented by him to the king, and which are still extant. In this work there is a very curious and minute account of the manner in which that prince and our author spent their time together. Asser tells an anecdote, that being at the feast of St Martin, and having quoted accidentally in conversation a passage from some famous writer, the king was so highly pleased with it, that he wished him to note it down on the margin of a book which he usually carried in his breast. Finding there was no room in the book to record the favourite passage, he asked the king, whether he should not provide a few leaves in which to set down such remarkable things as occurred either in reading or conversation. Alfred, who was indefatigable in the acquirement of knowledge, was extremely delighted with the idea, and directed Asser to put it in immediate execution. From this hint sprung the Enchiridion of Golden Sayings,' for by constant additions their collection began to accumulate, till at length it reached the size of an ordinary psalter; and this compilation is what Asser calls the Enchiridion, and Alfred his ‘HandBook' or 'Manual.' In all probability this learned monk continued at court during the whole reign of Alfred, and perhaps for several years after; but when or where he died has been the subject of some controversy. The Saxon chronicle positively fixes his death to the year 910, and to this statement it does not appear that any just objection can be made.

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We have already mentioned the confusion of certain authors with regard to the personal identity of Asser. To expose their mistakes by argument or history would be a tiresome and needless labour. It is sufficient merely to observe, that Asser the monk, and Asser the bishop of Sherborne, are proved on the authority of Matthew of Westminster, and Florence of Worcester, to be the same person; and that he was afterwards archbishop of St David's, appears from the annals of that monastery, as well as from the list of Giraldus Cambrensis, who sets him down after Etwal the successor of Novis. The Saxon chronicles, moreover, never mention two Assers, though they speak copiously of one. On the whole, therefore, we may conclude, that our author was the individual who composed the Annals of Alfred, though the story of his teaching at Oxford is either unfounded or applied to a different person. And in regard to his several promotions, it would appear that from being a monk of St David's he became parish-priest, afterwards

abbot of Ambresbury and Banwell, then bishop of Sherborne, which he held for a very short time; next archbishop of St David's, probably in the year 883; and lastly, primate of Wales in 909, through the kindness of Edward the Elder, the son and successor of Alfred. There is no less controversy about the works of Asser than about his life and preferments, for some allege that he never wrote any thing except the annals of king Alfred; whereas Pits gives the titles of five other books, and adds that he wrote many more.5 Of these one is a Commentary on Boece, which is mentioned by Leland. The Annales Britannica' has been published by Dr Gale, though it bears internal evidence of not being the work of Asser; his 'Golden Sentences' are a monument of his learning and industry; a book of Homilies, and another of Epistles, are also ascribed to him, though the authenticity of these two volumes can only be presumptive, as no ancient author says a word about them. The statement of Bishop Godwin, that Asser was buried in the cathedral church of Sherborne,6 rests on no other foundation than his holding that see,—a mode of argument which would apply with equal truth and more force of reasoning to St David's, as the place of his sepulture. On one point there is no disagreement:-that this excellent man was one of the most pious, learned, and modest prelates of the age in which he lived.

Dunstan.

BORN A. D. 925.—died a. D. 988.

DUNSTAN, a famous saint in the Romish calendar, and archbishop of Canterbury, was born of noble parents, whose names were Heorstan and Cynethryth, near Glastonbury in Somersetshire, in the year 925. He was a character formed by nature to act a distinguished part in the drama of life, and his progress affords instances of great talents perverted by an injudicious education and inordinate ambition. It is alleged that, in the old British church at Glastonbury, which he frequently visited, he had a vision of his future greatness; and that a venerable phantom pointed out the place where he was to build a superb monastery. His parents encouraged his taste for books; and his superior abilities enabled him to excel his companions, and to run with easy rapidity through the course of his studies. A fever interrupted his advancement, and, in a fit of temporary frenzy, he leaped from his bed, eluded his nurse, and seizing a stick which was near him, he ran over the neighbouring plains and mountains, fancying that wild dogs were pursuing him. His wanderings led him, towards night, near the church, the roof of which was undergoing repair. Dunstan ran rudely up the scaffold which the workmen had erected, roamed over the top, and with that good luck which delirium sometimes experiences, he got unconsciously to the bottom of the church, where he fell into a profound sleep. He awoke in the morning with returned intellect, and was naturally surprised at his new situation. As the church-doors had not been opened, both he and the neighbours wondered how he got De Præsul Angl. p. 385.

De Illust. Angl. Script. p. 170.

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there. His misadventure was converted by the monastic biographer of Dunstan into a notable miracle of angels descending to protect him from the devil, bursting the roof of the church and landing him safely on the pavement. His parents obtained for him an introduction into the ecclesiastical establishment of his native place, where he continued his application to study. There were at the time some Irish priests employed at Glastonbury in teaching the liberal sciences to the children of the nobility; and to their instructions Dunstan attached himself, and diligently explored their books. His youth was thus devoted to the laborious cultivation of his mind; and he seems to have attained all the knowledge to which it was possible for him to gain access. He mastered such of the mathematical sciences as were then taught; he excelled in music; he accomplished himself in writing, painting, and engraving; he acquired also the manual skill of working in gold and silver, and even in copper and iron. These arts at that day had not reached any high state of perfection, but it was uncommon that a man should practise himself in them all. When his age admitted, he was, through the interest of his uncle, the archbishop of Canterbury, who had taken particular care of his education, recommended to the patronage of King Athelstan, who invited him to court, and was often delighted and recreated by his musical talents. His surprising attainments were deemed supernatural, and he was accused of demoniacal arts. Such charges give evidence not only of the ignorance of the age, but of the superior genius and knowledge of the individual so accused. The charge of magic was, of all others, the most dangerous, because the most difficult to repel. Dunstan's enemies were successful; the king was influenced against him, and he was driven from court,—the Eden of his aspiring hopes. Not content with his disgrace, his rivals insulted as well as supplanted him; they pursued him and threw him into a miry bog, from which he extricated himself, and took shelter in a friend's house. Checked at the outset of his career, Dunstan turned his eye from the tempestuous height of courtly jealousy and ambition, to the quietude of domestic happiness. The aspirations of his mind took a new direction, and sought gratification in legitimate wedlock; but the rigours of monastic penance had denounced these pleasures, and Dunstan's passion was ascribed to diabolical suggestions. His relatives opposed this honourable attachment, they opened the batteries of their superstitious eloquence against the heinous sin of matrimony, conjuring him, as he hoped for salvation, to restrain nature and become a monk. Dunstan defended his propensities on the score both of morality and public utility. His friends set before him the terrors of future damnation, urging the necessity of extinguishing the fires of unhallowed passion, and avoiding its incitements by withdrawing from the world. These importunities unhinged the mind of Dunstan; he was terrified at the idea of eternal punishment, but was unable to tear himself from the raptures of love, and those exquisite delights which he anticipated in the connubial state. His health was unequal to this tumult of contending passions; a dangerous disease attacked him before he could decide whether to abandon his wife, or his hopes of felicity in another world, and his life was despaired of; at length he recovered, but he rose from the bed of sickness with an altered mind. In the struggle between carnal and spiritual enjoyment, superstition gained the mastery,