1827.] Historical and L iterary. 605 



to similar disputo. Beyond all doubt, that rescript orders the clergy, who 

 nourish their hair, to be shaved, in spite of all their remonstrances, by their 

 archdeacons. But the question is, whether the original rescript did not 

 extend the shaving powers of the archdeacons to those who nourished their 

 beards too. It is said to be thus worded : " Clerici, qui comam et barium 

 nutriunt, etiam inviti, a suis archidiaconis tondeantur." It is contended 

 that the words I have printed in italics are the interpolation of some lite- 

 rary beard-scraper, like myself; and Pierius is very indignant that any 

 scholar should venture to defend them as genuine. Leaving curious eritics 

 and pious polemists to settle this question as they may, 1 shall merely 

 observe, that whatever might be the practice of the Greek clergy in the 

 east, it was a settled point among the Romish clergy of the west of Europe, 

 in the tenth and eleventh centuries, if not earlier, that beards were a secu- 

 lar vanity, and ought to be left as such to the laity alone. In proof of this 

 assertion, I refer to the report which Harold's spies brought him from the 

 Norman camp, that William's army consisted chiefly of priests an opinion 

 which it is supposed that they formed from a sight of his archers, whose 

 beards were shaved off to allow them to draw their bows more conveniently 

 in time of battle. In the reign of Henry the First, both the French and 

 English clergy ventured to reprobate the wearing of beards even by laymen. 

 All the different monastic orders which were formed at that time, or in a 

 few years afterwards, followed the example of the regular clergy, with the 

 exce'ption of the Cistercians. These latter monks clung with the most obsti- 

 nate attachment to their beards, and were, on that account, sometimes 

 called " Fratres Barbati," or the Bearded Brotherhood. Their conduct, 

 in this respect, excited the indignation of the other monks, and gave rise to 

 several satires and lampoons against them, which have survived to our 

 times. I subjoin a rough translation of one of them, which is written in 

 rhyming Latin hexameters, as a specimen of the theological venom "of the 

 twelfth century : 



" Attend : I'll paint you a Cistercian monk. 



With well-kempt beard reclining on his breast, 



He wanders forth, a shagg'd and frightful monster 



In looks, in words, in deeds, a very goat ; 



And, 'cause he finds the gale of public favour 



Blows kindly on such men, he moulds himself 



Into an image of sour gravity, 



And speaks like sage and solemn oracle. 



Observe the caitiffmeet the foolish lord 



Of numerous acres ! like a snake he crawls 



And coils around his victim then exclaims, 



' The grace of God be with you, my fair son ! 



Our order fondly loves you, and each day 



Repeats its pater-nosters for your welfare.' 



And then he sweeps the pavement with his beard, 



Making a hundred congees, which he swears 



Shall cost his wealthy worship each a ducat. 



Shun you, my friend, this hollow hypocrite 



This canting, cogging, servant of the Lord ! 



This lecherous, treacherous, sighing, lying knave ! 



Who only seeks your friendship for your ruin ! ' 



To such attacks as these, the Cistercians replied by declaring that their 

 assailants were distinguishable from the laity by their shaven beards, but 

 blended with them by the profligacy of their lives. The Templars, who 

 were more monastic than military in their origin and institutions, were, 



