This philosophy is thought by some to have originated with Boodh, and to have been the grand moving principle which, for so long a period, has peopled South-eastern Asia with recluses and fanatics of various names. Others attribute its origin to the Persian and Chaldean Magi; and think that Zoroaster gave it form and system, about 700 years before Christ. It had spread into Egypt, corrupted the Alexandrian Jews, and sent into the deserts great numbers of Therapeuts and Essenes, previous to the coming of our Saviour. It was in Egypt that this specious philosophy first began its work of corruption upon the fair fabric of Christianity; and here it was that the Christian ascetics and recluses first made their appearance. The material body was degraded and abused; marriage was discouraged; celibacy, extolled; and those who, in the attempt to extricate themselves from the corrupting influence of matter, fled into deserts, or immured themselves in sepulchres and caverns, were held in the highest honor.

There was another principle of the oriental philosophy, which it held in common with the Grecian, and which had an effect in the same direction. It was, that this world is controlled, in great measure, by evil spirits or demons; that they infest it every where; that they poison the soul, through the medium of the body; and that those who would be delivered from their malicious power must curtail the influence, and narrow the dimensions of the body, as much as possible.

The oriental philosophy was incorporated with the Grecian in the second century, through the influence of the celebrated Ammonius Saccus, and came forth from the amalgam, under the imposing title of the New Platonic. In this form, it greatly corrupted the church, and gave a new impulse to the monastic spirit, which was now every where rising into notice and favor. Ammonius urged the initiated among his followers, not only to elevate their souls, by divine contemplations, above all earthly scenes and things, but so to weaken and emaciate their bodies, by means of hunger, thirst, labor, and other austerities, that they might attain, in this world, to a visible intercourse with spiritual beings; and ascend, active and unencumbered, after death, to the universal Parent of good. These precepts of Ammonius had the more influence with Christians, because he had been educated among the Christians, and was accustomed to set forth his doctrines in language borrowed from the sacred Scriptures.

A theory, kindred to the one here described, and probably originating from the same source, was obtruded on the church in the third century, under the name of the mystic theology. The mystics taught, that reason in man is an emanation from God, and comprehends within itself the elements or first principles of all truth. They taught, also, that the best method of assisting reason, so as by means of it to arrive at a knowledge of the truth, was not to study, investigate, and dispute, but to dwell in silence, inaction, solitude, repose. They taught that the avoidance of all active scenes, and the mortification and subjugation of the body, tended to excite the internal word or reason to put forth its hidden energies, and thus to instruct men in divine things. Those individuals, they said, who neglect all human, affairs, and withdraw their senses from the contagious influence of material objects, do in this way return to God; and being united with him, they not only possess much spiritual enjoyment, but they see truth, in its native purity; whereas to others, it appears only in a vitiated and deformed state. By reasoning such as this, great numbers were induced, in the third and fourth centuries, to retire into deserts, and to emaciate their bodies by fastings and hardships.

The cause of the mystics (and with it that of the monastics) was greatly promoted, in the fourth century, by the writings of a fanatic who called himself Dionysius, the Areopagite. He earnestly insisted, that communion with God can only be enjoyed, by mortifying the senses, withdrawing the thoughts from all external objects, subduing the body by hunger and hardships, by living in a kind of holy indolence, and keeping the mind upon God and eternal things. Under the influence of these writings, which were thought to possess an almost apostolical authority, vast multitudes of monks and holy virgins soon spread themselves over the Christian world. The East, in a special manner, swarmed with such persons; who, abandoning the occupations and conveniences of life, and all intercourse with society, pined away, amidst hardships and sufferings, in order to attain to a more close communion with God and the angels.

Another cause of monastic austerities which must not be overlooked, was the desire (if it were possible) of making some amends, some expiation for sin. This is a natural and perhaps universal desire. All men are conscious that they

are sinners; and few have done such violence to their moral nature, as not to dread the consequences of their sins. They desire, if possible, to make some expiation,-to do something to recover that divine favor which they have lost, and to restore peace to their guilty souls. The idea of an expiation by means of self-inflicted sufferings, is thought by some to be of Braminical origin. It is, at any rate, a very prevalent idea, in the land of the Bramins, and has filled that dark land with the habitations of cruelty. At a pretty early period, it crept into the church of Christ, where it originated that whole system of penance, which has so long prevailed among the Romanists. It also originated many of those austerities and cruelties, which deluded monastics have been induced to inflict upon themselves. Under a sense of guilt, men have shut themselves up in gloomy caverns and cells; they have lacerated themselves with whips and lancets; they have voluntarily subjected themselves to the extremest tortures of which their natures were capable; in the vain hope of expiating sin, quieting conscience, and restoring themselves to the lost favor of heaven.

Among the prominent causes of monasticism, are to be reckoned the almost universal popularity of the system, and the distinguished favor which was shown to those who excelled in their devotion to it. Of the more distinguished fathers in the church, during the first six or seven centuries, no one lifted his voice against it; but all were unanimous in its praise. And although, at a later period, the enormities of the system sometimes raised up enemies to it, yet the bishops of Rome, and most of the other great ecclesiastics, were its uniform, undeviating patrons and friends.

Of the popularity enjoyed by some of the more fanatical and extravagant of the monks, we can hardly form an adequate conception. Admiring multitudes flocked after them, and thronged around their pillars, or their cells. Their words were regarded as the responses of an oracle. The refuse of their garments, and the very offal of their persons, were esteemed as treasures of the greatest value. And when they died, their relics were not only admired, but well nigh adored. By means of them, it was believed that the greatest evils might be averted, and the most astonishing miracles performed. Such being the state of the public mind in regard to this subject, it is not strange that great mul12

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titudes flocked to the standard of the monks. It is not strange that disappointed and fanatical individuals should act extravagantly; since the more wildly and extravagantly they did act, the more sure they were to attract attention and to gain applause. Beyond all others, this was the high road to fame; and it is not strange that vast numbers were disposed to frequent it.

After the monasteries had become established and enriched, it is likely that numbers were drawn into them from motives more sordid than even the love of fame. The opportunities they afforded for a life of ease, of pleasure, of carnal indulgence, as well as for the gratification of worldly ambition, rendered them objects of attraction to selfish minds, and filled them often with the basest of characters.

I shall only adduce, farther, among the causes of monasticism, the necessities of the Romish church. The monks were the regular train-bands of the hierarchy, every where devoted to its interests, prepared and equipped, at all times, to fight its battles and advance its claims. And, in repeated instances, the hierarchy was brought into such a state, that new recruits were absolutely needed for these important purposes. It was the necessities of the church, or of some portions of it, during the crusades, which brought into existence the several military orders. But more emphatically is it true of the mendicant orders, that they originated in the necessities of the church. The increasing light of the eleventh and twelfth centuries, together with the increasing deformities of the church, occasioned discontents, and stirred up heresies, such as had not been witnessed for a long period. And to allay or overcome these evils, no adequate instrumentality was at hand. The settled or secular clergy, relaxed by habitual indolence, and disgraced by immoralities, rather increased the disaffection, than subdued it. And the existing orders of monks, become sluggish from wealth and indulgence, wanted the activity and the zeal which were required of them. To meet the exigencies of the case, a new order was demanded, -active, unflinching, persevering, impudent,—such as the mendicants, for the next three centuries, proved themselves to be.

A similar remark might be extended to the Jesuits, who arose about the middle of the sixteenth century, were it not that they can hardly be considered as monks, and of course

do not fall within our present inquiry. It is strictly true, however, that this order originated in the necessities of the church. Dispossessed by the Reformation of the better half of its European vassals, there was an absolute necessity, if the Romish church was to exist at all, that special efforts should be made, to recover what had been lost; to repair what had been injured; to fortify and guard what of its ancient domain was yet entire; and to extend its power and influence in new directions. It was to accomplish these necessary purposes, that the society of Jesus was originated; a society bound by the closest ties to the pontifical throne, and entirely devoted to its interests; the members of which stood ready to go any where, and do any thing, right or wrong, good, bad, or indifferent, to aggrandize the church, and to increase its power.

But I will not dwell longer on the causes of monasticism. I have merely touched on some of the more prominent causes, those which are supposed to have had the greatest effect and the widest influence, in bringing about that singular state of society which has been described.

It only remains that I notice, as proposed, the more obvious results of the monastic institutions. And here it will be my endeavor to treat these institutions fairly. I cannot regard or speak of them as exclusively evil in their results. At certain periods, and in some particular states of society, they may have been productive of good.

Among the Cœnobites in Egypt, and in the earlier Benedictine monasteries, a certain portion of each day, as I have before stated, was required to be devoted to labor; and the labor thus performed was often of a useful character. The Cœnobites, we are told, earned a subsistence, by making mats and baskets; or by laboring as catlers, fullers, and weavers; insomuch that their establishments, in some instances, resembled manufactories, more than places of religious seclusion.

The first Benedictines are represented as a virtuous and useful people. They drained morasses, cleared away forests, reared cattle, and pursued the various labors of the field. Wherever they set up their establishments, they soon converted the wilderness into a fruitful country. They were of great advantage, in this view, to Europe generally, and more particularly to Germany. Cities, in some instances, grew up