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Cranmer sat on the Chair, which had been that of an Augustine, a Dunstan, a Lanfranc, an Anselm, and a Thomas a Becket. If our holy Martyr and Archbishop had looked through the then existing generation of his Brethren, he would, indeed, have found one, who followed his example and died a Martyr—John Fisher:—but he was the only one; and his sacrifice, glorious as it was, had not power to save his country. The Liberty of the Church had long before then been destroyed;—Faith was sure to die out.
The Mass and Vespers are as on the Feast, page 351.
We here insert the third Sequence written by Adam of Saint-Victor in honour of the glorious Primate of the Isle of Saints.
Our Eliseus turns the bitter waters into sweet, by putting into them a new vase of salt; and by the seasoning of fresh meal, removed the bitterness from the pot of poisonous herbs;
He is slain, as a sheep that dies to save the flock, or as a child that is sacrificed, that the mother may be spared. He rises as a new Sun in a night-covered world, promising a long year of J jubilee.
Aquas plenas amaritudine
Novi farris sanat pinguedine
Novus vervex pro grege mo-
Et pro matre proles occidi-
In obscuris sol novus oritur
In these our days, by a Abel novum Cayn malitia, wicked plot, a new Abel has Novum Jacob Seir saevitia,
holy deeds, and for the courage of his upright mind.
And now, from heaven, he works so many miracles! He heals leprosy, he puts devils to flight, he gives sight to the blind, he makes the lame walk, he gives speech to the dumb, he obtains a cure for every sickness.
Pro sincere mentis constantia,
Vita, salus, et lux aetherea
Condonatur. Abhinc ruulta facit prodigia; Lepram curat, fugat Daeinonia;
Caecis visum, claudis vestigio,
Verba riiutis, aegris remedia Imprecatur.
A son of Belial, who had poured out blasphemies against the Saint, was struck blind; and, whereas he desisted not from his mad fury, he met with a wretched death.
A man who had great devotion to the Saint, had, through a false zeal, lost his sight: he recovered it immediately, on praying to the Saint, and went his way singing joyfully his praises to God.
Vir Belial luit blasphemias Quas in Sanctum arsit in
jurias; Visu dempto, tristes exse
Maturando nefandas furias,
Terminavit. Vir devotus in Sanctum Domini,
Zelo pravo sustractus lumini,
Sed mox datus visus acumini,
Laudes laetus divino nomini Decantavit.
Crosses, made by an Angel's hand, are often known to have a heavenly power, by the powerful prayer of the loving Pastor. The dust from round his sepulchre is known to heal paralysis.
Two lamps had been presented to his Shrine, as a votive offering; they were lit by a light from heaven. A man who had attempted to profane the holy spot, was found out by the breaking of a vase.
Cruces, factae manu angelica,
Pii Patris prece benefica, Crebro pollent virtute ccelica;
Far fit humi, quod paralytica Membra sanat.
Immolentur lucernae gemime
Accenduntur ccolesti lumine;
Declaratur in vasis fragmine
Locum sanctum fraudes molimine Qui profanat.
Cake puer qui matrem lae
Poenitendo calcem absciderat;
Mox, ut opem Sancti petierat,
Bipedalem gressum meru
erat, Res stupenda! Nauta potens in navi mys
Nostra, Thoma, laudes et
cantica Summo Regi prece gratifica Et eidem prece magniiica Nos commends
A boy had kicked his mother, and repenting of his deed, had maimed himself. No sooner has he begged the prayers of the Saint, then, oh! wonderful miracle! he recovers the use of both his feet.
O Thomas ! thou skilful pilot in the mystic Bark ! let thy prayers give worth to our praises and hymns, that they be pleasing to the King, our God; and, bjr thy powerful intercession, commend us to the same!
Our readers will not regret our giving insertion to the following beautiful Prose, taken from the ancient Missals of Liege.
Laureata novo Thoma, Sicut suo Petro Roma, Gaude Cantuaria!
Immo tota sit devota, Pia laudum solvens vota, Hilitans Ecclesia.
Thomas iste dum tuetur Legem Dei, promeretur Iram regis Angliae.
Ergo pulsus urbe cedit, Et transcurso mari, credit Sese regi Franciae.
Quem gratanter et condigne,
Tam devote quam benigne, Sicut patrem visitat.
Rejoice, O Canterbury! adorned with thy late Martyr, Thomas, as Rome is with her Peter.
Nay, let the whole Church Militant be devout to thy Saint, and pay him the holy tribute of her praise.
This is the Pontiff, who draws on himself the anger of England's king, because he defends the law of God.
For which reason he is sent into banishment, and crossing the sea, seeks protection from the King of France.
The king receives him gladly, as he well-deserved; and visits the Pontiff, devoutly and affectionately, as he would a father.
In France, Thomas, like a young novice, serves the King of kings with wonderful fervour.
At length, when peace was restored, though it was but the crafty show of peace, he returns to his country.
He asserts the Church's right, and serves his God; wherefore, the king, his artful enemy, grows mad with rage and wantons in his wrath.
Now like a cunning fox, and now like a savage tigress, he tries each door, each scheme:
At one time, threats; at another, flattery; but Thomas is nothing moved, unflinching as at first.
The king finding that the champion of the truth was not to be moved, and that his resolve was inflexible;
He turns all men against the Pastor, and whispers murder to a minion troop.
The parricides have understood the king; crafty and faithless, they enter the Church, that they may make away with the Champion of Liberty, and usurp his throne.
The Pontiff was at prayer in the sanctuary; he comes forth, heeding not the enemy. The serenity of his soul is ruffled not with fear of the raging troop; he goes to meet them.
The head of that saintly Priest, which had been fondly caressed on a mother's breast.
Now feels the edge of deadly steel; the blood gushes forth; and there, in the
Ubi, velut novus tyro, Thomas, in fervore miro, Regi regum militat.
Tandem pace reformata, Pace dolis palliata, Regressus ad propria.
Jura servans, Deo servit; Inde saevit et protervit, Hostis arte varia.
Nunc ut vulpes fradulen-
Nunc ut tygris virulenta,
Virum assertorem veri,
Omnes armat in Pastorem, Cohortatur ad cruorem Cohortem satellitum.
Ergo nequam patricidae Tam in f raude quam in fide, Libertatis ut Patronum Tollant et usurpent thro
num, Ruunt in Ecclesia.
Praesul orans in secreto, Palam prodit, hoste spreto; Nec turbat quies mentis Turbae metu saevientis, Sed procedit obviam.
Sancti caput Sacerdotis, Exoptatum mille votis Suae matris gremio,
Ferrum bibit, cruor manat,
Et ibidem coecos sanat