OW let us to the blind, external world descend, for some will say that we have hitherto seen only shadows of justice on ideal ground; yet, reader, after we shall have left the region of desires, and advanced some space along the path on which we are now entering, which seems with more realities beset, you will perhaps, at times, be well content to have incurred that charge. There may be moments in which you will feel like the pensive traveller at twilight hour, who journeys on through an obscure, cold forest, when he looks back with regret to the pleasant cloister's pale which had received him for a short space at noon; brings before his mind's eye the rich garniture of its sanctuary, and imagines that he still gazes upon each peaceful nook, which he had noted with such interest, remarking how sweetly it was for prayer and meditation meet; thinks too that he sees the solemn, hooded men, and their youthful disciples, assembled in angelic choir, leaving no place vacant, while rings aloud that quick melody,

"Te lucis ante terminum."

Your feelings perchance will resemble his, when he contrasts this scene of peace and order which he has left, with the desert

around him, dusk with horrid shades, and with his own wild state, solitary, wending he knows not whither-when o'er the broken passes, now each moment darker, there comes a gloomy sound, and a wind impetuous, sprung from conflicting vapours, drives all its might against the forest, plucks off the branches, hurling them afar, while beasts and shepherds fly.

"Beati qui esuriunt et sitiunt justitiam: quoniam ipsi saturabuntur;" truly mystic words of the Divine Ruler, which seem at first to promise no speedy consolation; for how can the natural thirst, ne'er quenched but from the well whereof the woman of Samaria craved, be ever satiated on that earth which is not his kingdom? It is true, a confidence in the ultimate triumph of justice characterized in a very remarkable manner the men of the middle ages. "One finds," says William of Jumiège, "in almost every page of Scripture that the son's house is overthrown by the iniquities of a wicked father, and also conversely, that it is rendered firmer by the merits of a good father."* Speaking again of the conquest of England by William, the same historian beholds only fresh proof of the justice of God. "The English," he says, "were punished for the murder of the innocent Alfred, and for their remorseless massacre of Toustain;

* Hist. Norman. Lib. VII. c. 1.

and on the following night God avenged them in causing a great slaughter of the Normands, because they had sought plunder, and their feet had been swift to shed blood.'"* Such observations are common in all writers at that time. Nevertheless, profoundly was it felt in the hearts of those thoughtful men that the beatitude arising from the spectacle of justice was not reserved for them here. Follow St. Bonaventura in his meditations on the Baptist's death: "O God, how didst thou permit this?" exclaims the seraphic doctor, "What is to be thought of this, that John should thus die, who was of such perfection and sanctity that he was thought to be Christ? Consider the greatness and excellence of John. Peter is crucified, and Paul is put to death with the sword, but yet the dignity remains to the precursor. Rome is purpled with the blood of Martyrs, but John is admirable above them all. Who so gloriously announced? Who thus filled with the Holy Ghost even in his mother's womb? Of what other man does the Church celebrate the nativity? It was he who first preached penance; it was he who baptized the King of Glory. John was a patriarch, but the chief and end of patriarchs. John was a prophet, but more than a prophet. John was an angel, but chosen among angels. John was an evangelist, but he first announced the Gospel. John was a martyr, but between the nativity and the death of Christ. He was the voice crying in the wilderness,' the precursor of the Judge, the herald of the Word. If now you contrast the excellence and dignity of John with the profound wickedness of those who slew him, you will have a just subject for astonishment; and, if it be allowable to say so, even of murmuring against God. For an executioner is sent to cut off his head, as if he were the vilest murderer. Behold him, then, reverently and with grief see how he offers his neck to the executioner, and bends his knees, and, giving thanks, to God, lays down his sacred head upon some block or stone, and patiently endures the stroke. Behold in what manner John departs the intimate friend and relation of our Lord Jesus."†

You perceive, reader, what strong language was permitted in the middle ages, in reference to the delay of justice, and you may conclude that it certainly was not

Hist. Norman. Lib. VII. 36. Meditat. Vitæ Christi, cap. 30.

by the beatitude of vision that just men expected to be satiated on earth. How, then, you will ask, did they interpret this divine promise?

It belongs not to an historian's part, to speak of its present and literal accomplishment in the heart's of men, by the operation of these ineffable mysteries of the Passion, designed by the Eternal Wisdom. to fill with divine justice the weak and fragile vessels of the human nature.* Only on what is visible to mortal eyes and productive of fruit on earth can he be required to speak; yet not less important is his evidence within just limits, to show how the sacred thirst of sweet desire might be at once partially allayed. Let us hear the gracious words again :

"Beati qui esuriunt et sitiunt justitiam." "Not the satiated, therefore," concludes Hugo de St. Victor, "but the thirsty are blessed; for," continues he, "all the good that mortal life can attain to, is to wish for good, since to possess it is reserved for the future life. If it had been blessed are the just,' who could have applied this to himself? But having regard to our imperfections, and compassionating our infirmity, the Divine Master pronounced those to be blessed who desired justice."+ Here a clue is given to relieve us from our embarrassment, and to encourage us to proceed in the present history; for, having pointed out the thirst or the desire intellectual, which animated men in the middle ages, and being about to speak of the effects discernible, we infer from it that there is no necessity for our undertaking the task which the objectors would lay upon us, desiring us to exhibit that fulfilment which is only to take place when the Divine glory shall be revealed to human eyes, where souls shall never more hunger or thirst, but enjoy that fulness of pure and everlasting joy which the prophet tells of, when he says, "Satiabor cum apparuerit gloria tua." No, excepting by the ardour of desire and the light of faith, that glory had not appeared during the times of which we trace the history, any more than to these latter ages, or than it will appear to those which will succeed while the present state of things endures; for whatever some vain speculators may suggest, from time to time, to entice and deceive unstable minds, the infallible page

Ludovic. Blos. Scriniolum. Spirituale.

+ Hugo de St. Victor, Eruditiones Theologica, Lib. I. tit. 133. Ps. 16.

forbids us to expect on earth the unresisted reign of justice-" Donec finiatur sæculum, sursum est Dominus."* It was in fact enough therefore, for our purpose, to have proved that the men of the middle ages felt sorrow at the spectacle of injustice, and bore that mystic and expressive sign which in old prophetic days was shown to the man of God.

No one, however, required to be told that the Church, by such indications of a spiritual thirst, understood something more than barren sighs or empty symbols. "Constitutum est," says an ancient author, "veram devotionem non tam in precationibus quam imitatione consistere." She knew of no justice towards God, which did not include analogous duties towards man; of no beatitude for those who were unwilling to combat, and who did not exert all their efforts to win by perseverance the celestial

crown.

"Non enim dormientibus divina beneficia," says St. Ambrose, “sed observantibus deferantur." The language which The language which she addressed every evening to her combatants, resembled that of a general to his troops when in an enemy's country, and might have been taken for a passage out of Thucydides, as that which gives the words of Nicias to his soldiers on the

retreat from Syracuse. "Be courageous, for there is no place near where you can with indolence and effeminacy be saved," ὡς μὴ ὄντος χωρίου ἐγγὺς ὅποι ἂν μαλακισθέντες σωθείητε.

In the middle ages, this necessity was forcibly and briefly expressed by the letter of the mystic branch first used with such signification of Pythagoras, and, in Christian times, adopted by St. Isidore in his Etymologies to represent human life; the stem signifying youth, uncertain as to its way, and the right arm most arduous to denote the laborious path of justice. Those will, indeed, have read the last book to little purpose, who will need much assurance here; for to love and worship the divinity, was, as the Church declared, to be just. She prayed to Him who sheweth the light of his truth to those who err, that they may return into the way of justice; that all who made profession of Christianity might avoid the things which were hostile to that name, and follow those

St. August. de Consec, dist. 2.
Instruct. novit, III. c. 4.
Hom. Lib. IV. in cap. 4 Lucæ.
Lib. VII. 77.

Isidori Etymolog. I. 3.

which were suitable to it.* It was, in short, an universal conviction during the middle ages, that neither desire nor sorrow, nor prayers, nor hymns, nor festivals, nor any exercise of religion, could be more than vain, unless accompanied with works of justice, in obedience to the divine laws. Every one knew that there were two ways, as John, the monk of Cluni, observes in writing the life of St. Odo, in which men could become apostates from God; "that each man might depart from his Creator either in faith or in works; and that, as he who departed in faith was an apostate, so he who returned to the works of sin without doubt was to be considered an apostate, although he might seem to hold faith."+

"Every Catholic," says Raban Maur, Fought to cultivate all virtues equally, that being nobly adorned within and without, he may be a worthy guest of the Eternal King, and being mounted in the spiritual chariot, may pass on to the everlasting country. He ought to study prudence, he ought to be filled with understanding and justice, to be religious and humble, with fortitude to possess magnanimity, confidence, patience, perseverance, and with temperance, to be clement and moderate; and above all these, he should have peace and charity, which is the bond of perfection." We have not, therefore, in the preceding book been conversing with airy visions, and unsubstantial reveries, for by the triple hunger and thirst which Bernardine of Sienna distinguishes as that of justice, of grace, and of glory, man gave three things to God, honour to his Creator, love to his Redeemer, and fear to his Judge; three things to himself, purity, watchfulness, and discipline; and three to his brethren, obedience, concord, and beneficence, according to the social relation in which he was placed towards them. § It belonged to the wonderful character of Catholicism, in consequence of the eucharistic faith, to unite the interests of the interior, for which the mysteries of the Church provided; and those of the social life, while each of these, perhaps, naturally tended to a separation, and to be satisfied at the expense of the other. This faith, as a modern philosopher remarks, united them indissolubly; for if this mystery,

* Third Sund. after Easter. Bibliotheca Cluniacensis, 49.

Rabani Mauri de Institutione Clericorum, Lib. III. c. 27.

§ S. Bernardini Senensis, Liv. III. de Beat. Serm.

which was itself only an initiation into the mysteries of the future existence, carried the soul beyond the present order, on the other hand, the disposition which was strictly necessary to every one who approached it, was the accomplishment of all the obligations of common life, and particularly of those which one was most disposed to disdain. Extending its vivifying influence to the two extremities of the moral world, it reached at once the most humble duties and ecstacy; and the same actions which made the soul enter into the angelic society, drew it back by the line of justice into the society of men.

In retracing the manners of the Christian Society of past ages, far be it from any disciple of the humble school, to imitate the style of those modern writers, who seem to consider their own personal judgment as an infallible tribunal, by which they may judge as with the balance of Omniscience, the thoughts and deeds of mortals, declaring where fell the just, and when was their fall irreparable.

There is nothing in common, between the Christian philosophy and this pretension to behold human affairs with the same eyes as those of Providence, and to judge them with the calm security of eternal justice, this high historical optimism, which shows truth and error as merely relative and never absolute,-these sonorous apologies of the victory according to which the present is always in the right, in short, this dramatic development of humanity, of which each act is to be represented in succession."*

Ah! who are we, to sit in judgment thus to determine what men were guilty, and what innocent, in these ancient times? "Nullo modo eorum innocentia coronamur, nullo modo eorum iniquitate damnamur," as St. Augustin said respecting the Donatists.+

What is to us the number of the just, or of the unjust, in past ages? It will be sufficient if we can say of all men with truth, in the words of the ancient poet; 'neque quæ recte faciunt culpo, neque quæ delinquunt amo." And yet with what caution and timidity should even this be uttered! For who is to judge them? The historians of the middle age never presume to explain the troubled course of the world, by tracing the secret sources of disorder, which they knew were often hidden from

the eyes even of contemporaries. Pascasius Radbert, in his life of Wala, speaking of the events which attended the dethronement of the emperor Louis, says, "there is no one who can believe, no one who can conceive, the things that were done, in what way they were done, or how many were done. There is no one who can understand why or how they happened; who were the authors of the evil, or who of the good."*

Men must wait for that burning day when the Supreme and Omniscient Judge will make inquiry, and will choose them as a man chooses his son who hath served him; and then O man, as a voice from heaven declareth, " videbitis quid sit inter justum et iniquum, et inter servientem Deo et eum qui non servit ei."

doubts

Modern historians have never any respecting the secret motives and causes of actions and events. All is unveiled to their eyes. Nothing is left obscure, and as there is more ingenuity required to discover a bad than a virtuous motive, it would be always easy to foresee, before consulting them, what view they would take of actions. Du Fresnoy says, that this alone should lead us to suspect Davilla and Varillas, and esteem their histories but slightly.

Even without weighing the historic difficulty, it is clearly absurd for any men to write as if they were themselves removed to an infinite distance above the wisest and greatest souls that were given to the times which they pass in review. Acute little men, but certainly neither humble nor wise, pass thus like beings of a different order from mortals, through the walks of history, as through those of real life, rashly judging rather from their own preconceived fantasies, than from any calm and cautious scrutiny of things, and then pronounce their sentence with a cool, incomparable assurance, that but ill conceals the fierce and turbulent passions which are often raging beneath the surface. St. Augustin well describes such men, styling them, "curiosum genus ad cognoscendum vitam alienam, desidiosum ad corrigendam suam."+

In proceeding to speak of the admirable fruits of justice which characterized the men of Catholic ages, I am prepared to witness the incredulity of many; for as Nicias said of the Athenians, respecting what had passed in Sicily, I know that + Confess. Lib. X. cap. 3.

* Lib. II.