EIGHTH CENTURY. BEDA, OR BEDE. Born A.D. 672 or 673, died about A.D. 735, aged 62-3. Te deprecor, ut cui propitius donasti verba tuæ scientiæ dulciter haurire, dones etiam benignus aliquando ad Te fontem omnis scientiæ pervenire, et parere semper ante faciem tuam. BEDA. AUTHOR of an Ecclesiastical History of England, and many other very early and invaluable works, the brighest ornament of the eighth century, and one of the most eminent Fathers of the English Church, whose talents and virtues have procured him the surname of The Venerable. The last stage of his disorder was an asthma, which he supported with great firmness of mind, although in much weakness and pain for six weeks, during which he continued his usual pious labours among the youth in the monastery; and occasionally prosecuted some of his writings, that he might be able to leave them complete. In all the nights of his sickness, in which, from the nature of his disease, he had little sleep, he sung hymns and praises. His last days were partly employed on his translation of the Gospel of St. John into the Saxon language, and some passages he was extracting from the works of St. Isidore. The day before his death, he passed the night as usual, and continued dictating to the person who wrote for him, who observing his weakness, C said, "there remains now only one chapter, but it seems very irksome for you to speak;" to which he answered, “it is easy, take another pen, dip it in the ink, and write as fast as you can." About nine o'clock he sent for some of his brethren, to divide among them some incense, and other things of little value, which were in his chest. While he was speaking to them, the young man, Wilberch, who wrote for him, said, "there is now, master, but one sentence wanting," upon which he bid him write quick; and soon after the young man said, "it is now done;" to which he replied, "well! thou hast said the truth, it is now done. Take up my head between your hands, and lift me, because it pleases me much to sit over against the place where I was wont to pray, and where now sitting I may yet invoke my Father." Being thus seated, according to his desire, upon the floor of his cell, he said, "Glory be to the Father, Son, and Holy Ghost;" and as he pronounced the last word, expired *. As it is not improbable that the reader may be desirous to learn some further particulars respecting the last hours of Bede, I have translated the following account from the Biography affixed to some of his works, in which another account may be found, by an anonymous and very old writer. When, therefore, he (Bede) had published these works, and that with the most indefatigable dili * Alexander Chalmers. gence, he died on the 7th of June, in Gyrwe, and was there buried: but, after the lapse of many years, his bones were transferred thence, and were deposited beside the body of the holy Father Cuthbert, which was even yet undecayed. The Venerable Bede died on the anniversary of our Lord's ascension. His decease is better described in the words of Cuthbert his scholar, who thus writes to a fellow student. A LETTER CONCERNING THE SICKNESS AND DEATH OF THE VENERABLE Bede. "Cuthbert a fellow disciple in God: eternal salvation to his fellow student Cutherin, beloved in Christ. The little present which thou didst send me I thankfully accepted, and with much satisfaction read thy pious and learned epistles, in which I found exactly what I would desire, that the masses and religious discourses by our beloved Father in God and master, Bede, were highly extolled by thee: whence I shall be delighted from the love I bore him, to describe in a few lines the manner in which he departed this life, especially since I learn that such is thy desire and request. He was oppressed by a very quick breathing unattended with pain, for a fortnight preceding the anniversary of our Lord's ascension. In this state he lived with joy and gladness, returning thanks to the Supreme Being every day and every night, indeed every hour until the 7th of June, the anniversary of our Lord's ascension. Daily he was engaged in giving lectures to us, his disciples, and whatever portion of time remained he spent in chaunting psalms: he dedicated the whole night to joy and gratitude, unless when some short slumber prevented him. On waking, he immediately resumed his pious frame of mind, and with expanded hands ceased not to return thanks to God; I declare that I never beheld or heard any other person so diligently returning thanks to the living God. Oh truly happy man! He would sing the verse of the blessed St. Paul," it is dreadful to fall into the hands of the living God," and many other passages from holy Scripture, in which he admonished us to awake from the death of the soul by meditating beforehand on our last hour. And in our own language, that is in the English, in which he was well skilled, he repeated some things in our poetry. For even then, composing in English verse, he would say with much feeling what may thus be rendered, consider before the soul departeth hence what good or evil it hath done, and how it will be adjudged hereafter. He would also chaunt the responses according to his custom, and our own, of which the following is one. 'Oh King of Glory, Lord of Virtues, who as on this day didst triumphantly ascend above the highest heavens, leave us not orphans, but send the promised Comforter to us, even the Spirit of Truth, Alleluia !' When he came to the expression, leave us not orphans,' he burst into tears and wept bitterly. An hour afterwards he began to repeat what he had before spoken, and when we heard him thus express himself we wept with him. At one time we read, at another we wept, and whenever we did read our reading was interrupted with tears. In this manner we spent the time preceding the day above mentioned. He frequently rejoiced and gave thanks to God, in that, he had deserved this affliction. He referred to, and frequently would repeat the passage, 'God chasteneth every son whom he receiveth,' and many other sentences from the holy Scriptures ; another also from St. Ambrose, 'I have not so lived, that I am ashamed to live among you, but neither do I fear to die, for we have a good Lord.' In those days he was endeavouring to make two small works, well worth remembering, from which and the psalms, our lectures were taken which we received from him, namely, for the benefit of our church he translated the Gospel of St. John into our language, until he came to the passage in which it is said, but what are these among so many? and made extracts from the writings of Isidore, saying, I am unwilling that my disciples should read a lie, and after my death labour without avail. But when the third day before the anniversary of our Lord's ascension arrived, he began to be more seriously afflicted with asthma, and a little swelling appeared in his feet. But the whole of that day he spent in cheerfully dictating to the scribe, and among other things, he occasionally said, 'Acquire knowledge without delay. I know not |