Chapter XI: Some Bishops, Kings, Popes, and Inquisitors (2)

According to Matthew of Westminster, as King Canute, who died in 1035, was flourishing and magnificent in the kingdom of England which he had acquired by his bravery, he one day ordered his royal chair to be placed on the seashore, and then mounting, he sat down in it, and said in a threatening voice, "You are under my dominion, O sea, and the land on which I sit is mine, nor is there any one in it who can dare with impunity to resist my authority. I now command you not to come upon my land, nor to presume to wet my royal vestments." But as wave after wave rose up and disregarded his injunctions, and without any respect wetted the feet and legs of the King, he waited till it was almost too late to leap from his chair, and said, "Let all the inhabitants of the world know that the power of kings is vain and frivolous, and that no one is worthy of the name of king except Him in obedience to whose nod the heaven and earth and sea and all that is in them are subject to eternal laws." And from that time forth the King never wore his crown, but he always placed it on the head of the image of his crucified Master, and so gave a great example of humility to all future kings. He was buried at Winchester in the old monastery with all royal honour. Other historians relate that Canute sat on the shore of the river Thames at Westminster on the occasion referred to.

A KING DESCRIBING HIS VISIT TO THE POPE (A.D. 1031).

Canute, King of England and Denmark, in 1031 paid a visit to Rome, and wrote a long letter to the English archbishop and bishops, describing the honours paid to him. He said: "I have lately been to Rome to pray for the redemption of my sins and the salvation of my people. I had long since made a vow to do this. At Easter a great assembly of princes was present with Pope John and the Emperor Conrad, and all received me with honour and presented me with magnificent gifts. But more especially was I honoured by the Emperor with various gifts and offerings in gold and silver vessels, with palls and exceedingly costly garments. I spoke with the Emperor himself, and with our lord the Pope, and with the princes who were there, respecting the necessities of my people and their better security on their journeys to Rome, and their claim to freedom from harassing barriers and exactions. All the princes declared and assured me this should be attended to. I also complained to our lord the Pope that my archbishops were oppressed by the immense sums demanded from them on receiving the pall, and it was decreed that this should never again occur. All the princes willingly granted and confirmed their concessions by oaths, and with the attestation of four archbishops and twenty bishops and a numberless crowd of dukes and noblemen who were then present. I have humbly vowed to the Almighty God to reform my life in all things, justly and piously to govern my kingdom and the people who are subject to me. I call to witness and command my councillors to allow no injustice to be practised in any portion of my kingdom."

A PEASANT REBUKING A POMPOUS BISHOP (A.D. 1035).

Fulgosius gives a story how a peasant in the electorate of Cologne puzzled his bishop. The peasant was at work in his field, when he saw his bishop pass by, attended by a train more becoming a prince than a successor of the Apostles. He could not forbear laughing loud and long, which caused the bishop to ask the reason. The peasant answered, "I laugh when I think of St. Peter and St. Paul, and see you in your equipage. Sure, they were ill advised to trudge on foot when they were heads of the Christian Church, the lieutenants of Jesus Christ, the King of kings; and here is yourself, only a bishop, yet so well mounted and with such warlike attendance that thou resemblest a prince rather than a pastor of the Church." To this his reverence replied, "Nay, my friend, thou dost not consider that I am both a count and a baron as well as your bishop." The rustic laughed still louder at this, and added, "Yea, but when the count and the baron, which you say you are, shall be in hell, where will the bishop be?" This rather confounded the bishop, who rode off without answering a word.

ST. MARGARET OF SCOTLAND LEARNED IN THE SCRIPTURES (A.D. 1080).

St. Margaret, a great-niece of Edward the Confessor and granddaughter of Edmund Ironsides, married Malcolm, King of Scotland, in 1069. She was of a saintly mind, and showed a genius for self-mortification and fasting, and also for charity to the poor. The King was accustomed to offer coins of gold in the church at High Mass, but the Queen devoutly pillaged them and bestowed them on the beggars who besought her help. The Queen and the ladies of her Court were constantly employed in making vestments and other ornaments for Divine service, and her attendants were taught frequently to exercise themselves in works of piety and charity. She was not only a model mother of a family, but she had a wonderful gift of eloquence, and could teach the most learned doctors of her time out of the Holy Scriptures things that they never knew or had forgotten. Her views about the right way of observing the forty days' fast of Lent carried conviction to all the wise men, for before her time fewer Sundays used to be computed in the forty days, so that she added four days, and thereby made the Scotch conform to the rest of the world. She also taught her subjects to be more sound and rigid in observing Sunday, so that no one should on that day carry any burdens himself or compel others to do so. She was a great friend of the monasteries, and also of the hermits who lived in cells, and whom she often visited and begged to remember her in their prayers. As they would not on principle accept any gift from her, she begged them to bid her perform some alms deed or work of mercy, and she would do it forthwith. She erected some convenient dwellings to entertain the many pilgrims who visited the church of St. Andrews, and even chartered ships to bring the pilgrims from afar. She also rebuilt the monastery at Iona. She died in 1093, aged forty-seven, and in 1250 she was declared a saint and her body placed in a silver shrine in the abbey of Dunfermline.

ALAS FOR THE VANITY OF GREAT CONQUERORS! (A.D. 1087).

When William the Conqueror had reigned seventeen years, his Queen, Matilda, died in 1083, after a long sickness. She was buried in her own church at Caen, where her eldest daughter was already a professed nun, and William erected a tomb over her resting-place, rich with gold and gems. After this blow he never recovered his spirits. In 1087 he was resting at Rouen, under medical treatment for his corpulency, and King Philip made a jest of it by saying that William was only lying in! William, stung by this levity, swore that he would rise up again and have his revenge. He did rise, and set about harrying and devastating the vineyards and harvests of France, gladdening his sight with burning and demolishing castles, churches, and monasteries in his enemy's country. But one day his horse stumbled, and his heavy body fell among some burning cinders. He was carried a dying man to Rouen, and for quietness was tended for some weeks in the priory of St. Gervase. His physician gave him up. He made his will and spoke his last wishes, and many a crime of his earlier days rose up against him. One morning he heard a great minster bell sounding for prime; and after inquiring what it was, he commended his soul to the Holy Mother of God and passed away, aged sixty-three. No sooner was the breath out of his body than his trusty chiefs took to their horses and scampered home, foreseeing that anarchy was at hand and self-preservation their first duty. The weeping attendants took care to pillage the weapons, clothes, and furniture in his room, leaving his body to lie a day on the bare floor. An archbishop at last took on him to order the body to be borne to Caen, but all the household had vanished, each carrying off as much booty as he could stow away, and not a vassal was to be found ready to help. A strange Norman knight, moved by natural piety, at last volunteered to wash, anoint, and embalm the royal corpse, and to find a carriage to convey it. But as the bier approached the abbey of St. Stephen, where monks and clergy stood ready to receive it, and were singing the office of the dead, a fire broke out near hand, and the members of the procession had to leave and assist in that emergency. At last the Mass of the dead was sung, and a bishop mounted the pulpit to harangue the audience on the mighty deeds of the great King. No sooner had this concluded when a knight stood forth and claimed the ground in which the King's body was about to be laid, saying it was his property, of which he had been robbed by the King, and he challenged all and sundry to interfere with it, and swore that no robber's body should ever be covered with his mould. The company were staggered, and yet feared it was too true, so that the bishops and nobles deemed it prudent to make a bargain on the spot and to pay a suitable purchase money. But this was not all. Some unskilful workmen had made the coffin too small to hold the great mass of flesh which William left behind. The body burst in the process of handling, and a fearful stench filled the church. The rest of the holy office was therefore hurried over, and this was the end of all. It was afterwards left to William Rufus to erect a fitting monument and shrine to the mighty dead, with some verses from the archbishop, reciting how small a house was now enough for the great King William. The monk Orderic, a contemporary, thus moralises on this career: "O secular pomp, how despicable art thou, because how vain and transient! Thou art justly compared to the bubbles made by rain; for like them thou swellest for a moment to vanish into nothing. Survey this most potent hero, whom lately a hundred thousand knights were eager to serve, and whom many nations dreaded, now lying for hours on the naked ground, spoiled and abandoned by every one! The citizens of Rouen were in consternation at the tidings. Every one fled from his home and hid his property or tried to turn it into money, that it might not be identified."

AN ENGLISH KING MARRYING A NUN (A.D. 1100).

When Henry I. of England at the age of thirty-one suddenly succeeded to the crown on the death of William Rufus, he demanded in marriage Matilda of Scotland, daughter of King Malcolm and of his saintly Queen Margaret. It was rumoured that she was a nun, and Henry persuaded Anselm, Archbishop of Canterbury, to question her, and see if this scandal could be avoided. On inquiry she explained that the rumour had no foundation, and all that happened was that, when she was a girl of eight, her aunt one day put a piece of black cloth over her head, and she sometimes kept it on as an excuse for unsuitable marriages, and as a protection against the rudeness of the Norman nobles. This being deemed a satisfactory explanation, the chronicler William of Malmesbury thus described the wedding that took place in 1100 as follows: "At the wedding of Matilda and Henry I. there was a most prodigious concourse of nobility and people assembled in and about the church at Westminster, when, to prevent all calumny and ill report that the King was about to marry a nun, the Archbishop Anselm mounted into a pulpit and gave the multitude a history of the events proved before the synod and its judgment, that the Lady Matilda of Scotland was free from any religious vow, and might dispose of herself in marriage as she thought fit. The archbishop finished by asking the people in a loud voice whether any one there objected to this decision, upon which they answered unanimously with a loud shout that the matter was rightly settled. Accordingly the lady was immediately married to the King and crowned before that vast assembly." It was said that this virtuous Queen took a leading part in persuading Henry to grant Magna Charta. She died in 1118, aged forty-one.

AWAKING A BISHOP FOR EARLY MASS (A.D. 1100).

An old chronicler, Helmandus of Froidmont, about 1100, relates that "Philip, Bishop of Beauvais, once tarried with us--not, we suppose, for enjoying our hospitality, but for devotion. 'Now,' said the bishop, 'call me to hear early Mass.' On going to him on the morrow when primes had begun, I found him still sleeping, and none of his household dared to disturb him. But I drew near him, saying in joke, 'The sparrows have long risen to praise the Lord, and our bishops still snore in bed; listen, father, to the Psalmist: "Mine eyes prevent the night watches, that I meditate on Thy word." Upon that the gloss of Ambrose says, "It is indecent for a Christian to be found by the sun's rays lying slothful in bed."' The bishop, waking up, was confused and wroth for my reproving him so freely, and said angrily, 'Be off, you wretch, and kill your lice.' But I turned his anger into a joke, and forthwith rejoined, 'Beware, father, lest your worms kill you. It is the worms of the rich that kill the rich, but the poor kill theirs. Read the history of the Maccabees and Josephus, and the Acts of the Apostles, and you will find that the most powerful kings Antiochus and Herod Agrippa were eaten by worms.' Crushed by this reason and the authorities, the bishop straightway held his peace."

ANSELM, THE MONK ARCHBISHOP (A.D. 1093).

In the twelfth century the greatest theologian was said to be Anselm, bred a monk in the monastery of Bec, in Normandy. He soon became prior and afterwards abbot, and was the life and soul of all the best monkish work. He objected to the rigorous discipline to which monks were subjected. He also had an insight into the mode of educating children by kindly methods instead of brutalising them by tyrannical punishments. To show his mastery of this new method, he reclaimed one of the most stubborn and intractable boys, so that this youth, named Osbern, became greatly attached to his master, who in turn, when the youth contracted a fatal disease, nursed him night and day. In 1093 he was made Archbishop of Canterbury, but he became entangled in the contests of the time, as he thought the Church should be independent of kings; and incurring too much risk, he took refuge with the Pope, and travelled about France and Italy, always distinguishing himself by works of piety till he died in 1109. He retained through life his austere and self-mortifying habits as to food, so that Queen Matilda wrote to him a letter strongly pressing upon him the necessity of avoiding excessive abstinence as destructive to his powers of doing good. He was noted for his placidity of mind, and his constant attempts to meditate on the deeper problems of the Christian life. It is said that, on meditating about the gift of prophecy when he was prior of Bec, he awoke early, and he became so absorbed in this mystery that he at last himself actually saw through the wall all the preparations going on for Mass in the next building, and hence he said it was easy for God to reveal the future in the same way to chosen servants. On another occasion he fell into a trance, and during the celebration of vigils solved to his own satisfaction some mysteries that had long baffled his researches, he being for a time in a grand ecstasy of supernatural intuition. He also distinguished himself in his controversies with the schoolmen as the most expert and orthodox theologian of his age.

DEATHBED OF ARCHBISHOP ANSELM (A.D. 1109).

Before Archbishop Anselm died in 1109, at the age of seventy-six, he lay down in his last illness, and one of the priests who stood around his bed said to him, it being then Palm Sunday, "Lord father, it appears to us that, leaving this world, you are about to keep the passover in the palace of your Lord." The ambitious theologian replied, "If indeed this be His will, I gainsay it not. But if He should choose that I should yet remain among you at least long enough to settle the question which I am revolving in my mind concerning the origin of the soul, I should take it gratefully, because I do not know whether any one will be able to determine it after I am dead. If I could but eat I might hope to recover, for I feel no pain in any part, except that, as my stomach sinks for lack of food which it is unable to take, I am failing all over."

A SARACEN KING BY DIVINE RIGHT (A.D. 1130).

When El Mehedi, one of the Arab kings in Spain, died in 1130, his vizier, Abdelmumen Aben Ali, contrived to be named his successor, and vindicated his Divine right by the following artifice. The premier kept the King's death concealed for three years, and meanwhile taught a parrot to utter various little speeches. He also brought up a young lion to fawn upon him and caress him. He prepared a proper cage for the bird, and a proper hiding-place for the lion in a large hall, when he invited the chief nobles to meet and consult about the royal demise. He announced the death of the King, which gave rise to great lamentations, and then harangued them with great propriety and due acknowledgments of the Divine mercy in teaching the value of harmony and union against their enemies. He then remained silent, and the nobles being greatly perplexed and undecided, suddenly, as if by some Divine intuition, the bird spoke these words: "Honour, victory, and power to our lord the Caliph Abdelmumen, Prince of the Faithful; he is the defence and support of the Empire." At the same moment a fierce lion bounded out of a hole into the middle of the hall, lashing its tail and glaring at the company, to the terror of all, when the vizier, calmly advancing, faced the monster, which at once succumbed, and caressed him and licked his hands. The nobles were at once confounded; and treating these demonstrations as the voice of the Divine will, took the oath of allegiance. This king became one of the most illustrious in Spain, who brought nearly the whole country under his rule, as well as the dependencies in Africa, and he carried on the Holy War against the Infidels, as the Christian rebel princes were then called. He reigned thirty-three years, and died in 1164.

DEATHBED OF ARCHBISHOP TURSTIN (A.D. 1140).

Archbishop Turstin of York, in 1138, though so old and feeble that he had to be carried in a litter, had energy enough to rouse and summon the nobles of Yorkshire to resist an irruption of Scots under King David. After a fast of three days they all swore a solemn oath to fight, and they easily defeated the Scots. John of Hexham says that the archbishop adhered to monastic usages; he was frequent in prayers, and had from God the grace of tears in the celebration of Masses. He wore a shirt of haircloth, and amid frequent confessions did not spare himself from corporal castigation. He was the founder of the monastery of Fountains, and watched over the monks, and was bountiful in offerings to the church of York. Feeling at last in 1140 that the vigour of life was growing weak in him, he wisely set his house in order, paying his servants' wages, restoring what had been taken away, and taking thought about each separate matter. Having assembled in his chapel the priests of the church of York, and solemnly made confession before them, he stretched himself naked on the ground before the altar of St. Andrew, and received from them the discipline of corporal chastisement with tears flowing from a contrite heart; and mindful of the vow which as a young man he had made at Clugny, he went to the monks of the Clugniac order at Pontefract, the elders of the church of York and many of the laity accompanying him; and there he solemnly received the habit and benediction of a monk, and during the remaining days of his life he was intent on the salvation of his soul. At last, surrounded by religious men, as the hour of his summons drew near he himself celebrated nine vigils for the departed, and himself read the lesson, gave the verse of the response, _Dies illa, dies iræ_, laying a mournful and significant emphasis on each word; and at the end of lauds, the monks being all assembled, he yielded up his spirit. He was buried with becoming honour before the high altar. Many years after, the monks in carrying out repairs required to remove the stone over his tomb, and neither his corpse nor his vestments showed any appearance of corruption.

KING JOHN SHOCKING THE BISHOP IN CHURCH (A.D. 1199).

When King John succeeded to the English crown in 1199, he at once sent for Hugh, Bishop of Lincoln, and made much of him, promising to be guided by his directions. For two or three days John's conduct in public was very decorous; but the biographer of Hugh relates that the very next (Easter) Sunday John attended church, when the chamberlain, according to custom, put twelve pieces of gold in John's hand to be presented to the bishop. John, instead of giving it, held the coins in his hand, rattling them about, to the astonishment of the attendant nobles. Hugh indignantly asked why this noise was made, when John replied, "In truth, I am looking at these pieces of gold, and thinking that if I had got them a few days since, I should not have given them to you at all, but put them in my own purse." Hugh drew back, refusing to touch the gold, nor suffering his hand to be kissed by John, bidding him put the money in the offertory dish, and withdrew. After this, Hugh preached a long sermon containing much specially intended for John's benefit about good and bad princes. While all others acclaimed, John was exceedingly wearied. Three times he sent messages to Hugh, insisting on his coming to an end and allowing him to get away and break his long fast. He at last hurried away without partaking of the Sacrament, and it was said he had not received it since he had attained the years of discretion. John did the same thing at his coronation on Ascension Day.

MURDER OF ST. THOMAS À BECKET (A.D. 1170).

Fitzstephen, the secretary of Thomas à Becket, says that Thomas's countenance was mild and beautiful; he was tall of stature, had a prominent nose, slightly aquiline. He generally amused himself, not incessantly, but occasionally, with hawks, falcons, hunting dogs, or chess. His house and table were open to every rank. He never dined without the society of earls and barons whom he had invited. He ordered the hall to be strewn every day with fresh straw and hay in winter, and with green leaves in summer, that the numerous knights, for whom the benches were insufficient, might find the floor clean and neat for them to sit down on, and that their rich clothes and beautiful tunics might not be soiled and injured. His board shone with vessels of gold and silver, and abounded with costly dishes and precious beverages, so that whatever objects of food and drink were recommended by their rarity were purchased by his officers at exorbitant prices. But amid all this he was himself singularly frugal. When the King and he one day met a beggar, the King proposed to take Thomas's warm cloak and give to the poor man, while Thomas objected, and suggested the King should give something of his own, and they had a sharp struggle for the cloak, each holding and pulling it till a button gave way and remained in the King's hands. The King gave the button to the beggar, then told the story to his attendants, who burst into loud laughter, to the annoyance of the grave Thomas. When Thomas's dead body after the murder was stripped by the monks, they were not a little curious to discover whether he was really a monk. They found under his outer garments a hair shirt, and then they were half convinced he must have been a godly man. But when they found also hair drawers, and examined these garments, and saw their dirty state, surpassing belief, they were in raptures, and were then wholly convinced that Thomas was a true saint and worthy of unbounded veneration in all ages.

A KING'S PENANCE AT ST. THOMAS'S TOMB (A.D. 1174).

In 1174, when Henry II. crossed from France to visit the tomb of St. Thomas à Becket, he reached Southampton after a rough passage. Roger of Wendover says that the King then fasted on bread and water, and would not enter any city until he had fulfilled the vow which he had made to pray at the tomb of St. Thomas, Archbishop of Canterbury and glorious martyr. When he came near Canterbury he dismounted from his horse, and laying aside all emblems of royalty, with naked feet, and in the form of a penitent and supplicating pilgrim, arrived at the cathedral, and, like Hezekiah, with tears and sighs sought the tomb of the glorious martyr, where, prostrate on the floor and with his hands stretched to heaven, he continued long in prayer. Meanwhile, the Bishop of London was commanded by the King to declare in his sermon that he neither commanded, nor wished, nor by any device contrived the death of the martyr, which had been perpetrated in consequence of his murderers having misinterpreted the words which the King had hastily pronounced; wherefore he requested absolution from the bishops present, and, baring his back, received from three to five lashes from every one of the numerous body of ecclesiastics there assembled. The King then made costly offerings to the martyr, spent the remainder of the day in grief and bitterness of mind, for three days took no sustenance, giving himself up to prayer, vigils, and fasting--by which means the favour of the blessed martyr was secured, and God delivered into his hands William, King of Scots, who was forthwith confined in Richmond Castle.

A MONK DESCRIBES A PAPAL INTERDICT (A.D. 1137).

About 1137 Orderic says that "in the diocese of Séez, in Normandy, a Papal interdict was put in force over all the territories of William Zalvas. The sweet chants of Divine worship, sounds which calm and gladden the hearts of the faithful, suddenly ceased; the laity were prohibited from entering the churches for the service of God, and the doors were kept locked; the bells were no longer rung; the bodies of the dead lay in corruption without burial, striking the beholders with fear and horror; the pleasures of marriage were forbidden to those who sought them; and the solemn joys of the ecclesiastical ceremonies vanished in the general humiliation. The same rigorous discipline was extended to the diocese of Evreux, and enforced through all the lands of Roger de Toeni, in order to terrify and restrain the perverse and disorderly inhabitants. Meanwhile Roger himself lies fettered in close confinement, weeping and groaning for the loss of his liberty of action, and cursed by the Church for the use he insolently made of that liberty, when he had it, in the profanation of sacred things; and all his lands lie under a terrible interdict. Thus proud and desperate rebels are doubly crushed; but the hard hearts of those who witness such spectacles, alas! are not changed nor converted to amendment of their perverse designs."

THE POPE'S MODE OF PUNISHING KINGS AND KINGDOMS (A.D. 1199).

Pope Innocent III. in 1199 ordered Philip Augustus, King of France, to take back a discarded wife, which the King would not do. An interdict was then pronounced against France. At midnight, each priest holding a torch, the clergy of France chanted the _Miserere_ and the prayers for the dead, the last prayers which were to be uttered by them during the interdict. The cross on which the Saviour hung was veiled with black crape; the relics replaced within the tombs; the Host was consumed. The cardinal in his mourning stole of violet pronounced the territories of the King of France under the ban. All religious offices from that time ceased; there was no access to heaven by prayer or offering. The sobs of the aged, of the women and children, alone broke the silence. So, for the injustice of the King towards his Queen, the whole kingdom of France, thousands of immortal souls, were cut off from those means of grace which, if not absolutely necessary (the scanty mercy of the Church allowed the baptism of infants and the extreme unction to the dying), were so powerfully conducive to eternal salvation. For the King's personal sin a whole nation at least thought itself in danger of eternal damnation. The doors of the churches were watched, and the Christians driven away from them like dogs; all Divine offices ceased; the Sacrament of the body and blood of the Lord was not offered; no gathering together of the people at the festivals of saints; the bodies of the dead not admitted to Christian burial, but their stench infecting the air. There was a deep sadness over the whole realm, while the organs and the voices of those who chanted God's praises were everywhere mute. The King had to yield, or at least pretend to yield, within the space of a year. In like manner Pope Innocent III. ordered King John of England to accept Stephen Langton as archbishop, and for his refusal an interdict was levelled at England. From Berwick to the British Channel, from the Land's End to Dover, the churches were closed, the bells silent, the dead were buried like dogs in ditches or dung-heaps without prayer, without a tolling bell; yet King John, weak, tyrannical, and contemptible as he was, held out for four years. Had he been a popular king the barons and people would have stood by him. One consequence of the interdict and excommunication was, that his kingdom was declared to be forfeited, and any one might seize it, and Philip Augustus of France thought of attempting it. But before any regular encounter John made peace with the Pope, and received Stephen Langton as archbishop. And Stephen afterwards became a leader of the barons, and on June 15th, 1215, extorted Magna Charta at Runnymede, which became the great title deed of the British Constitution for all time thereafter. John complained to the Pope that the charter had been forced from him unreasonably, and the Pope professed to agree, and even ordered the rebellious barons to be excommunicated. While John was in despair and defending himself against the expected invasion of Philip, King of France, whose design was favoured by the barons, he was marching northward, and his carriages were cast away in crossing the river Ouse. This misfortune happened through the ignorance of the guides and the tide coming too fast upon them. And thus the regalia, the King's plate, and all his treasure were lost. This loss weighed heavily upon the King's spirits, and threw him into a fever, of which he died at Newark Castle a few days after. Some little time before he expired, forty of the barons sent him assurances of their submission, but he was in no condition to receive that satisfaction. The young King Henry III., aged ten, was crowned on October 28th, 1216.

A CANDID FRIEND TO THE POPE (A.D. 1200).

When John of Salisbury, the friend of Thomas à Becket, was sent by Henry II. to Pope Adrian in 1200, they had a confidential conversation, and the Pope said he wished he had never left the obscure retreat of the cloister for the Papal chair, as it was beset with thorns, and he asked John what people were saying of him and the Church of Rome. John says he answered thus: "What I have heard in many countries I will freely tell you. They say the Church of Rome shows herself not so much the mother of other Churches as their stepmother. Scribes and Pharisees have their seats in her, who lay grievous burdens on the shoulders of men, which themselves will not touch with one of their fingers. They domineer over the clergy without being an example to the flock; they heap together rich furniture and load their tables with gold and silver, whilst their hands are kept shut by avarice. The poor rarely find access to them unless when vanity may introduce them. They raise contributions on the Churches, and excite litigations, promote disputes between pastor and people, deeming it the best religion to procure wealth. With them everything is venal, and they may be said to imitate the devils, who, where they cease to do mischief, glory in their beneficence. From this charge a small number of exceptions may exist. The Pope himself is a burden to Christendom which is scarcely to be borne. The complaint is, that while the churches which the piety of our fathers erected are in ruins, and their altars neglected, he builds palaces and exhibits his person clothed not only in purple, but resplendent with gold. These things and more than these the people are heard to utter." The Pope listened patiently. "And what is your own opinion?" asked Adrian. "Your question distresses me," said John; "I wish neither to be a flatterer nor to give offence. I cannot presume to contradict a cardinal of your Church who says that the real source of all the evils is the fund of duplicity and avarice of its officers, and yet I know many living examples to the contrary. I will only say that your precept is better than your practice." Adrian smiled, and observed that it was like the old apologue of the stomach and the limbs.

HOW A MONK PUBLISHED THE EXCOMMUNICATION OF AN EMPEROR (A.D. 1238).

When the Emperor Frederick II., in his quarrels with the Pope, was excommunicated in 1238, and sentence was ordered to be published in all Christian countries, such was the impression of the power of the Emperor that no priest in Germany had the courage to declare it. At last a Jacobite Friar was discovered who ventured to make it known in the disguise of the following fable. "Sire," said the friar, "there was once a lion so fierce and strong that no beast durst attack him; but one hot summer day a fly placed itself between his two eyes and bit him severely. 'Who art thou,' said the lion, 'who darest to bite me?' 'I am a fly,' said the other. 'A fly,' said the lion, 'the most insignificant of beasts! bite on. If thou wert not so insignificant a beast, those shoulders would answer for it, but I disdain to revenge myself on thee.' And, sire," added the friar, "I compare your Majesty to the lion, and myself in my little condition to the fly, who pronounces upon you from our Holy Father the Apostle the sentence which you have incurred by your rebellion against the Holy Church." "Well," said the Emperor, "'tis true if it were not for your poor station you should certainly be made to repent this." It was also noticed that when, in the following year, 1239, the Emperor went to Padua, he was handsomely entertained for several months by the abbot of the monastery of St. Justina; and in spite of the thunders of the Vatican hurled at the Emperor, the latter was treated with becoming courtesy, was provided with a throne and a footstool, and all the necessary appurtenances of the most exalted rank.

THE EMPEROR RETALIATING ON THE POPE (A.D. 1239).

When Pope Gregory IX. in 1239 excommunicated the Emperor, the latter sent a circular letter to the King of England and his brother, beginning with the words, "Attend, ye sons of men; understand, ye nations;" and it contained these scornful sentences: "Moreover, we think him (the Pope) unworthy to be considered a vicar of Christ, a successor of Peter and regulator of the souls of Christians. We grieve at his sin and prevarication in the fact that, not content with spending money in order to gain over the nobles and chiefs of Romania to become his followers and adherents, he wasted the possessions of the Roman Church. Condole therefore, my good friend, with us as well as those dear to thee, and not only with us, but the Church which is the congregation of all faithful Christians; for its head is sick, its prince is in the midst like a roaring lion, its prophet mad and faithless, its priest polluting its sanctuary and unjustly acting against the law. We earnestly beg of you to consider the contumely heaped on us as your own injury, and to hasten to your own house with water when the fire is raging in the neighbouring houses. Without waiting for our decision or for our taking counsel of our advisers, he vomited forth against us the poison he had conceived. We for our own sake adjure you and ask your aid, and that of all of you, the magnates and princes of the whole world, not because our own strength is not sufficient to avert such injuries from ourselves, but that the whole world may know that the honour of all secular princes is touched when the person of one is offended." The Pope replied thus: "There has risen from the sea a beast full of words of blasphemy which, formed with the feet of a bear and the mouth of a raging lion, opens its mouth in blasphemies against God's name, and continually attacks His tabernacle and the saints who dwell in heaven," etc., etc.

HOW THE POPE'S CLERKS EXTORTED MONEY (A.D. 1241).

During 1241 Matthew Paris says the avarice of the Romans still continued unsatiated; for after the legate's departure two of the Pope's clerks remained in England, as if to fulfil the duty of the legate. These two were Peter, surnamed Le Rouge, and Peter de Supino--two indefatigable extortioners, who held a Papal warrant for exacting procurations, imposing interdicts, excommunicating, and extorting money by divers methods from the wretched English Church, as they stated, that the Roman Church, which was injured in manifold ways, might again breathe freely. The aforesaid Peter Le Rouge, who placed himself above the other one, conducted himself after the manner of the legate, wrote his letters to this and that abbot and prior, and the letter always ran thus: "Master Peter Le Rouge, familiar and relative of his Holiness the Pope, greeting," etc. On such authority he continued to exact and extort procurations and various other collections. His colleague, Peter de Supino, by permission of the King, went to Ireland on the part of the Pope, and bearing a warrant from him whereby he was assisted by secular power, he with great tyranny extorted money from all the prelates of that island. This Peter in the ensuing autumn took his way to Rome, carrying with him 1,500 marks (£1,000), and having his saddle-bags well filled.

HOW THE POPE'S EXTORTIONERS WERE PURSUED (A.D. 1241).

Matthew Paris says that these two clerks, Peter de Supino and Peter Le Rouge, with their saddle-bags thus well filled, proceeded under the escort of the monks of Canterbury to Dover, and suddenly and secretly set sail, for they had heard that the Pope was not expected to live. They therefore suddenly and clandestinely took flight with their booty, lest the King should hear of the Pope's death and confiscate it. Scarcely had they entered France, when lo! Master Walter de Oera, a messenger of the Emperor, arrived in all haste, with letters of credence from the Emperor and a message from the King to detain the booty as well as the robbers if to be found in England. The messenger was indignant at not having caught them, but followed their steps, carefully watching the meanderings of the foxes, in order to report the result to the Emperor. Meanwhile the Pope's agents, hearing that they were watched, spared not their horses, and secretly stowed away their money with relatives in secret places. The Emperor, however, ordered them and the relatives to be arrested and imprisoned, and to render a strict account of the money collected, which was committed to writing and circulated among the merchants of the chief cities and ultimately distributed. Thus these wretched ecclesiastics, who ought to have been protected under the wings of the Pope, were utterly despoiled, and the enemies of the Church more daringly oppressed them.

AERIAL MUSIC AT A BISHOP'S DEATH (A.D. 1253).

Matthew Paris says that Robert, Bishop of Lincoln, died in 1253 at Buckdon, in the night of St. Denis's day. During his life he had openly rebuked the Pope and the King; had corrected the prelates and reformed the monks; in him the priests lost a director, clerks an instructor, scholars a supporter. He had shown himself a persecutor of the incontinent, a careful examiner of the Scriptures, a despiser of the Romans. In the discharge of his Pontifical duties he was attentive, indefatigable, and worthy of veneration. That same night Faulkes, Bishop of London, then staying not far off, heard in the air above a wonderful and most agreeable kind of sound, the melody of which refreshed his ears and his heart and fixed his attention. It was a supernatural sound, like that of a great convent bell ringing a delightful tune in the air above. It at once struck the listener that his beloved and venerable brother of Lincoln was passing from this world to take his place in the kingdom of heaven, and this noise was a warning, for there was no convent near in which there was a bell of that sort and so loud. The Bishop of London inquired, and found out that at that very time the Bishop of Lincoln had departed from this world. This wonderful circumstance was told as a fact to Matthew Paris by Master John Cratchale, a confidential clerk to the bishop. On the same night also some brethren of the order of Minorites, in passing through the forest of Vauberge, having lost their way and wandering about, heard in the air sounds as of the ringing of bells, amongst which they clearly distinguished one bell of a most sweet tune, unlike anything they had ever heard before. This circumstance greatly excited their wonder, for they knew that there was no church of note near. Next morning at dawn, being directed by the foresters to the right road to Buckdon, and inquiring as they went about the reason of the solemn ringing of bells that had filled the air the night before, they were informed that at that very hour the Bishop of Lincoln had breathed forth his happy spirit.

A FOOL POSING THE THEOLOGIANS (A.D. 1284).

John of Peckham, about 1284, says that a fool was once in company with some theologians at Paris, and he asked them which was better--to do what a man knows, or to learn what he does not know. Thereupon the doctors argued together for and against, and the fool, listening to their altercations, looked on, waiting for their conclusion. At last their deliverance was, that it was better to do what a man already knows than to learn what he does not know, because, as says the apostle to the Romans, "For not the hearers of the law are just before God, but the doers of the law shall be justified." And Isidorus in _De Summo Bono_ says, "A zealous student will be more prompt to perform what he reads than to know, for it is a less sin not to know what you desire to know than not to perform what you do know." Then said the fool, "You are all mad, for you are working day and night only to learn what you do not know, and you do not care to act up to anything you do know."

A HERMIT FOR A POPE (A.D. 1294).

In 1294, after the cardinals had tried in vain for a year and a half to agree upon a Pope, and no one would give way to another, a sudden solution was found by their choosing a solitary monk named Peter of Morone, in the Neapolitan territory, then distinguished in the wilderness for his austerities. He seemed to outdo the famous anchorites of old. He wore haircloth with an iron cuirass, lived on bread and water and herbs. At the age of twenty, when he became an earnest monk, one day the Virgin and St. John both stood before him and chanted portions of the Psalter, and every night a celestial bell with sweetest tones aroused him to prayer. Angels often visited him, and showered roses on his head. God pointed out a great stone, under which he dug a hole in which he could neither stand nor stretch, but only crouch behind a grating, and the place abounded with lizards, serpents, and toads. Yet crowds came to see him, and hailed him as a kind of leader of a new brotherhood. Somehow a voice from heaven pointed out to the perplexed cardinals that here was a Pope ready to their hands, and he was fixed upon unanimously. A deputation went to his cell. They found he was an old man, with a long shaggy beard, sunken eyes, heavy brow, pale cheeks, and meagre limbs. But they fell on their knees before him. He thought it must be a dream. He protested he was unworthy and unfit. But the news spread, and the crowd increased and urged him on, and he could not but accept. He at first refused to put on the gorgeous Pontifical robes, but had to consent. He then went with them, riding on an ass, with a king on each side holding the bridle. Never was an election more popular, and he took the title of Celestine V. Two hundred thousand people crowded the streets as he approached, and he had to show himself now and then on a balcony and give his benediction. After a few months the cardinals, kings, and nobles began to think that this Pope was not to be a success. He was incapable of business. He lavished his dignities and offices, and was easily duped. He became weary of his burden. He contrived to make a cell in the palace, which shut out the sky. But this was not enough. He wanted to abdicate. This at first was thought impossible and illegal. But he did abdicate, and at once went off to his old hermitage. It was the first instance of an abdication, and all agreed that nothing became him so well as the leaving of the high office a few months after having entered upon it. All the other hermits praised this last act as one of transcendent humility enhancing his glory.

PHILIP THE FAIR RETALIATING ON THE POPE (A.D. 1303).

When Philip IV. of France offended the Pope, the latter harangued his council and boasted that, as his predecessors had already deposed three kings of France, he would depose Philip like a groom. The act was done in 1303. Two supporters of the King, William of Nogaret and Sciarra Colonna, with three hundred horsemen and infantry, made their way to Anagni, where Pope Boniface VIII. then was, and beset his palace, and after a short truce set fire to the doors of the church adjacent and made their way through the flames; and the crash so alarmed the Pope that he felt his hour was come, and resolved that he would die with dignity. He put on the Papal mantle and the imperial crown of Constantine, and sat on the throne with the pastoral cross in one hand and with the keys of St. Peter in the other. The assailants, though at first awed at this sight, dragged him from the throne, struck him on the face, and forced him to parade through the town on a vicious horse, with his face to the tail. A rescue party, however, surprised the guard, and carried the Pope to the market-place, where, famishing with hunger, his wants were supplied by willing hands, and he was sufficiently restored to pronounce absolution on all but the plunderers of the church. He was then conveyed by his friends to Rome, where a frenzy fever overcame him, and he was put under restraint, dying very soon at the age of eighty-two. Some say he was poisoned; others that he refused food, and like a mad dog bit his own flesh; others that he was found with the bedclothes stuffed in his throat, and his staff lying as if it had been gnawed by him in his rage. The saying was that "he entered like a fox, reigned like a lion, and died like a dog."

A POPE OF THE FOURTEENTH CENTURY (A.D. 1300).

Boniface VIII., at the beginning of the fourteenth century, carried Papal absolution and worldliness to its highest point. After procuring his predecessor Celestine V. to abdicate and be imprisoned and then taken off by poison, he saw a great advantage in the ushering in of 1300 as a means of satisfying his cupidity. He circulated an address that all persons visiting St. Peter's on January 1st, 1300, would obtain an extraordinary indulgence. Crowds flocked and left their offerings. Then he issued a bull offering the fullest indulgence to all who visited the cathedral at Easter, on the condition that they truly repented and confessed their sins. Attracted by his bull, multitudes repented and were allowed to see the handkerchief of St. Veronica, as many as two hundred thousand a day. The gain to the Church was vast. This Pope persecuted his enemies with uncommon zeal. He managed to ruin the powerful family of Colonna, which had opposed his election, demolishing their castles and confiscating their estates. Philip the Fair, King of France, his equal in avarice and ambition, had taxed the clergy, and a bull was issued excommunicating all princes and nobles who dared to demand tribute from the clergy, to which Philip replied with defiance, and sent a troop to arrest the Pope, which was done, as already narrated. The mob, after a few days, at last pitied his Holiness, and turned against the French, who retired. The excitement, however, threw him into a fever, and then into insanity, in which state he died. The Florentine historian recognised the judgments of God in thus punishing a Pope who was so worldly, and further in punishing such a king as was the instrument in the hands of Providence. King Philip made a tool of his own the next Pope, and kept him in France, and in 1309 began the seventy years' residence of the Popes in Avignon, while they lived in a state of servility to France.

WICLIFF THE REFORMER (A.D. 1324-1384).

Wicliff having been early disgusted at the worthless creatures who filled all the high offices of the Church, and joined some friends in trying to restore the simplicity and self-denying zeal of Apostolic times, was soon marked out as a heretic to be watched. Pope Gregory XI., in 1377, was advised to condemn Wicliff's doctrines, and directed that he should be imprisoned; but John of Gaunt and other powerful friends were resolved that at least a semblance of a hearing should be given to him first; and he managed without recanting anything to say nothing which his enemies could lay hold of. He published in 1380 his translation of the Scriptures into English. Wicliff was a determined enemy of the Mendicant Friars, as disturbing the parish priests in their more useful labours. Wicliff was cited by the Archbishop of Canterbury before a council, but an earthquake occurred at the time to interrupt this inquisition. He used to look on this earthquake council, as he called it, as a judgment of God in his favour.

THE TWO JOHN WICLIFFS (A.D. 1324-1384).