INTRODUCTION

FOR the title which has been given to this book we are indebted to Fleury, who, writing of the first of the treatises of which it is composed, says, "It was then (i.e. in the year 1257) that he (St. Thomas) published the APOLOGY for the Mendicant Friars which he had read the preceding year before the Pope at Anagni. This work bears the heading: Against those who attack religion, that is, the religious profession. In it the holy Doctor answers, in detail, and with logical precision, the reasons and authorities which were brought forward by William of St. Amour." The learned Abbé adds, "St. Thomas exposes the injustice of all the accusations brought against the religious." As the secondary, or sub-title, explains, the work which is now offered to the English reader is a translation of two of the seventy-two Opuscula, or minor works, of the Dominican Divine, Saint Thomas Aquinas, who in the thirteenth century was, and, indeed, in every century since has been considered, one of the great theological lights of the Catholic Church.

             The book is divided into two parts, each part being one of the two tracts, or Opuscula. These treatises were not published by the author simultaneously, and, as they now appear, in book-form. They were given to the world separately, under special circumstances, to which I shall presently refer, and which called for each at a particular time, and to meet a particular need. After the death of the Saint, they were, with seventy other tracts or booklets, treating of a variety of subjects of varied interest, collected together, and published under the somewhat comprehensive heading of "Opuscula," or the Minor Works.

             The Opuscula on the religious life and calling have been translated, as far as I can ascertain, for the first time. They are now bound together between two covers, and to them an Index is added, for the convenience of the English reading world. This book, embodying, as it does, the two treatises in defence of the religious life, can hardly fail to be of interest to many at the present time, when, as in the thirteenth century, the religious orders--in France, in Spain, in Portugal, in Italy, and elsewhere--are passing through a crisis, which, though not a "new thing" in their annals, is, to say the least, searching and severe.

             The religious orders do not fear--nor need they--for the ultimate triumph of their cause. The times are crucial for them--of this there can be no doubt--but, their existence is assured. They may be tried, but they will come through their trial unscathed. They may pass through the water, but they will pass through dry-shod. They may be subjected to the ordeal of fire, but their garments will not be scorched by the flames. He who protected Israel will protect them. "And the water was divided. And the children of Israel went in through the midst of the sea dried up; for the water was as a wall on their right hand and on their left." He who watched over His servants of old, will not be wanting to His servants now. "And the nobles, and the magistrates, and the judges, and the great men of the earth being gathered together, considered these men, that the fire had no power on their bodies, and not a hair of their head had been singed, nor their garments altered, nor the smell of fire had passed upon them." What God did for Sidrach, Misach and Abdenago, He will do to-day, as He has done for His faithful children in all ages. He "hath sent His angel, and delivered His servants that believed in Him." "His signs . . . are great. His wonders . . . are mighty. His kingdom is an everlasting kingdom, and His power to all generations." The testimony of Nabuchodonosor is the testimony of all time.

             The past is the pledge of the present, and the present is the promise of the future. The flower and the fruit are in the seed. The seed may fall upon the ground, it may be buried in the earth, it may die. The death and the burial are the harbinger of a glorious resurrection. "Unless the grain of wheat fall into the ground, it alone remaineth. But if it die, it bringeth forth much fruit." This is true of all divine institutions. Seeming death is the forecast of life. Burial is followed by resurrection. The works of God thrive upon persecution. The temples of God's raising are built upon rocks which are indestructible. Waves, and winds, and storms only prove their indestructibility. All the efforts of men are vain, when directed against a divine design, which we may not ascribe even to an effort; for effort there is not in God.

             The criterion of Gamaliel, Pharisee though he was, may be taken as the test as to whether a work is the fruit of the prompting of the Divine Spirit or the outcome of a merely human inspiration. The criterion is applicable in all times, as well as in apostolic days. "And he said to them: Ye men of Israel, consider with yourselves what you are about to do with these men . . . now therefore, I say to you, refrain from these men and let them alone; for if this design or work be of men, it will fall to nothing; but, if it be of God, you are not able to destroy it: lest perchance you be found to oppose God. And they consented to him." The Orders are willing to be judged from this standpoint. After centuries of life, many times multiplied, they have not "fallen to nothing." After hundreds of years of almost unceasing effort on the part of their enemies, in one land or in another, they have not been able to "destroy them." Like the Hebrew slaves in Egypt, the more they have been persecuted and oppressed, the more they have increased and multiplied. The inference which the religious draw from this incontestable fact is--rightly or wrongly--that "the work is of God."

             This is why the religious orders have no sort of anxiety, amidst the trials of the present, about their eventual triumph in the future, be that future far or near. Here we have the secret of their assurance. They have already successfully passed through crises in the other countries of Christendom, notably in our own, and in some of these countries not once only but many times. The result has invariably been the same. The waters have cleansed them, instead of destroying them. The fire has only separated the dross from the gold. So will it be now. So will it be always. Whatever others may think or say, this is the view taken by the religious orders themselves. Hence their confidence in their final triumph.

             Persecution is the legacy of the Church, nay it is an entailed inheritance coming down to her, through the ages, from her Divine Founder. The entail has never been broken; nor will it be; nor can it be. She has to be purified in the crucible. She has to be "tried by fire as silver is tried." She has to "pass through fire and water." The legacy is incontestable. The inheritance is beyond dispute. It clearly comes from Jesus Christ. "He is like a refining fire, and like the fuller's herb: and He shall sit refining and cleansing the silver, and He shall purify the sons of Levi, and shall refine them as gold and silver, and they shall offer sacrifices to the Lord in justice." His promise and prophecy call for no gloss or comment, beyond the one written on every page of history. That page has been a veritable palimpsest, upon which the word PERSECUTION has been repeatedly rewritten, and then repeatedly erased, only to be written again.

             The Apostles were the first to inherit the promise. St. Paul bears witness to the inheritance in language which the religious may repeat to-day. "Even unto this hour we both hunger and thirst, and are naked, and are buffeted, and have no fixed abode . . . we are reviled, and we bless; we are persecuted, and we suffer it; we are ill spoken of, and we entreat; we are made as the refuse of this world, the offscorning of all even till now." The Apostle does not write to repine or complain; he only bears witness to a fact. We "bless," "suffer," "entreat," are words which imply not surprise, but resignation to the Master's Will, and faith in the reality of the divine and prophetic promise. "Remember my word that I said to you: the servant is not greater than his lord. If they have persecuted Me, they will also persecute you." The words are the words of Jesus Christ. He had already given the reason of this enmity. "If you had been of the world, the world would love its own; but because you are not of the world, but I have chosen you out of the world, therefore the world hateth you." "When they have persecuted you in this city, flee into another," is the advice of the Master to His disciples. Then comes the promise of unfailing life, "Amen I say to you, you shall not finish all the cities of Israel till the Son of Man come." These are words which have inspired confidence in the hearts of the persecuted for nearly twenty centuries. "In the world you shall have distress; but have confidence, I have overcome the world"; "Fear not, little flock, for it hath pleased your Father to give you a kingdom," are further words of hope, which guarantee to the persecuted ultimate and final victory.

             The religious orders of the Church have ever been in the forefront of the battle. They have ever been the spiritual uhlans, the advanced guard of the battalions of the Church. They, consequently, must expect to bear the brunt of the enemies' lance and spear. They must not be--they are not--surprised, they are not even disappointed, much less discouraged, when they become the targets of the fiercest arrows of the foe. The surprise, the disappointment, and the discouragement, would be the other way. It would be strange were it not so; nor would it be a sign of health and spiritual vigour. If persecution in a country did not begin with the religious orders, it would, probably, be an evidence that they had fallen away from their first charity, that they lacked energy and zeal, that they were wanting in the service of God.

             Sometimes persecution comes from within. "A man's enemies are those of his own household." Well-meaning, though badly advised, members of "the household of faith" have at times raised their voices against the Orders. We must admit, however, that it has not always been without a cause. "Religious" are not always religious. They do not at all times, and in all places, live up to their sacred calling. Cucullus non facit monacum. Practice and profession are not, invariably, one and the same, in any rank or station of life. A Judas in the college of the chosen twelve, a Nicolas amongst the deacons in apostolic days, a Julian in the early ages of the Christian faith, are historic instances, which have prepared us for the existence of occasional infidelity to the principles and practices of the higher life, amongst members of the religious orders. Religious men and women, like other men and women, are human. This evident truism is admitting much; and yet we cannot admit less. Men and women are changeable in their resolutions. So sometimes are men and women who are religious. They are not always true to their professions. Like all corporate bodies, the members do not, invariably, in the words of the prophet, "look to the rock from which (they) are hewn," nor "to the hole of the pit out of which they are dug." They forget "Abraham (their) father," and "Sara who begot (them)." Then persecution, whether from without or from within, is as cleansing water and purifying fire. The cleansing and the purifying are the work of God, "whose fan is in His hand; and He will thoroughly cleanse His floor, and gather His wheat into the barn, but the chaff He will burn."

             There have been times, there have been countries--there may be countries to-day--where the water and the fire and the fan were, and perhaps are, needed. It is better for the body that the cancer should be removed by the surgeon's knife. It is better for the wheat, that it should be winnowed, and so be separated from the chaff. A corporate body--whether religious, social, or political--gains by the expulsion, even though forcible, of those of its members who are working against its best and highest interests. Treason is always a crime. Traitors can claim no quarter. Men who profess a religious life, and wear the livery of a religious order; and yet, under the cloak of religion, are living a life of scandal, diametrically opposed to their calling and profession, are traitors. They are siding actively and aggressively with the enemy. They fall under the penalty due to treason. "Then will I visit their transgression with the rod, and their iniquity with stripes." Of one such as these Saint Augustine writes in his Rule: Sine causa est in monasterio, etiamsi inde non projiciatur. He is not a true monk, although he may not be ejected from his monastery. They, who, in their lives contradict their profession, have no cause to complain, either of the violence of the purification, or of the salutary result of the process of expiation. Dionysius puts it pithily: "It is not an evil thing to be punished: the evil is to deserve punishment" (De Div. Nom. Cap. IV.). They merit divine judgments, even though an Attila be the chosen "Scourge of God." We can only admit and regret the cause. We can neither palliate the offence, nor deprecate the penalty.

 "That he is mad 'tis true; 'tis true, 'tis pity;

 And pity 'tis 'tis true."

             There are, however, times when the Orders are attacked, even from within, unjustly. The cause of the attack is misunderstanding, misstatements, or misjudgment. The opposition may spring from motives which are of the world's prompting, and which come neither from the Spirit of God, nor from zeal in His cause. Jealousy was found in the home of the Apostles, of which Jesus Himself was the Head. Envy may enter into the very Sanctuary of the Lord. The spirit of the world may make its way into cloistered homes. Bolts and bars, grates and grilles, the walls of religious cells and monastic enclosures are not proof against "the spirits of darkness in the high places." The heart of a Christian is not an impregnable fortress. "The breastplate of justice," as worn by men, and the "shield of faith" in human hands, are not infallibly impervious to "the fiery darts of the most wicked one." The "higher paths" are not high enough to be beyond the reach of the spirit of "the world."

             These are some of the lessons that the reader will learn, if he reads between the lines, in the pages which follow these words. The pages were penned by a vigorous hand, and were directed against the unjust accusations of one, whose hand was only just less vigorous than his own, when it was moved by hatred of the religious orders--William of St. Amour. It has been said that, "there is but one step from envy to hate." We have an instance, in the historic controversy to which I am about to refer, of the truth of this saying.

             The volume now offered to the English reading public--which consists of the Nineteenth and Seventeenth of the Opuscula respectively -will probably prove to be of greater interest to the majority of readers, than the little book (already issued by the same publishers) on The Religious State, the Episcopate, and the Priestly Office. The treatises are full of vigour and life. They were inspired by an occasion which has made history, and which might have proved fatal to the very existence of the Order to which St. Thomas himself belonged. They were written at a time which was critical in the annals of the Orders; and, without question or doubt, they, more than anything else, were instrumental in piloting the threatened Orders through the storm. For, as all the world knows, they were the outcome of the historic controversy which arose in the year 1253, and which was championed, on the one side by William of St. Amour, and on the other by the Dominican Theologian to whom we owe this work. The controversy is an interesting one. The champions on either side were, each in their way, giants among intellectual men, each being "head and shoulders" above his fellows.

             William of St. Amour was the avowed and implacable enemy of the religious Orders, nay, of the first principles of the religious life. Especially was he bitterly opposed to that form of the religious life--the double life of contemplation and action, the union of the monastic life with the apostolic life of teaching and preaching--of which the newly established Orders of the Franciscans and the Dominicans were the embodiment.

             A word on the spirit and organisation of the "active orders" may not be out of place here. It will help the reader to appreciate the meaning of the struggle.

             In the earlier ages--perhaps up to the thirteenth century--the office of teaching in universities and in public schools had been, for the most part, confined to laymen, or to the members of the secular clergy. The monks taught and wrote, indeed, but in their monastic homes. Preaching was one of the duties of the Episcopal office; and, although at times, and for exceptional reasons, monks, like St. Bernard, exercised the sacred ministry of the Word, this was the exception and not the rule. The Friars--the Dominicans and Franciscans especially--were instituted for the express purpose of preaching. The former were called "the Preaching Friars," or the "Friars Preachers," and their Order received the name of "Ordo Praedicatorum," or "Order of Preachers." To the apostolate of preaching they united the monastic life. They lived by rule. They took the three vows of Voluntary Poverty, Perpetual Chastity, and Entire Obedience, in all things lawful, and "according to rule," to their superiors' will. The Franciscans were--as became the followers of "the poor man of Assisi"--extremely strict in their profession and practice of poverty. They were not allowed by rule, in the early days of their history, to "possess purse or scrip." They were forbidden to have revenues. Consequently they had to live upon alms. Hence the members of the new Orders were called "the Mendicant (or begging) Friars." Yet, withal, both Orders were to be actively engaged in apostolic and external work for souls. They were to come out of their churches, their sacristies, and their cloisters. They were to work in the world, as well as to pray in their monastic cells, for the spiritual welfare of their fellow-men.

             This was the "new thing," the novelty in the Church, which provoked the storm. It WAS a novelty, a new development, that is, of the religious life. The old principles were there; but the application of them to a new environment was novel. In days when men lived in grooves and walked in well-beaten paths, a new departure was calculated to cause a shock. The religious life was old as Christianity; but the form of the religious life which the new Orders called into being, was passing strange to the conservatism of an essentially conservative age. The needs of the times, however, demanded the change; and the Church, who brings out of her treasures "new things and old," sanctioned and approved, if she did not initiate, the evolution which responded so effectively, as events proved, to the crying need.

             The blending of the active life of the apostolate with the contemplative life of the monk, formerly secluded in the cloister, was a novelty--but it was a novelty which was a need. There were Monks in the Church, and had been for centuries before the thirteenth--men, who, in the interior of the cloister, studied, and taught, and wrote, and worked, and prayed. There were priests in the Church, in that age and before, priests who laboured and toiled in God's vineyard. But something was wanting, a need was felt. What was the need? Men, uniting in themselves the "double spirit"--the spirit of the cloister and yet the spirit of priestly zeal; monks who were to be monks and yet active priests; priests who were to be active and acting priests, and yet who at the same time were to be monks; men who were to pray and study in the cloister, and then to come out of the cloister, to carry the fruit of their prayer and study into the world. Apostles were needed who, like Elias and the Baptist John, were to come from the desert to preach. Preachers were wanted who were to practise first and then preach--who were to preach by their lives, and then by their words. Teachers were called for, who were to learn in solitude, and then to teach in the pulpit and in the professor's chair. Heresy was rampant, and an Elias had to cry, "How long halt ye between two sides?" Foxes were in the vineyard laying it waste, and a Samson had to arise to destroy them. Enemies were in the camp of the Lord, and a Gedeon had to come forth in his might and put them to flight.

             Such were Dominic and Francis, and such were to be the Dominicans and the Franciscans, the members, that is, of the Orders which they founded. They were to live in cloisters, recite office in choirs, study and pray in cells, fast and abstain and do penance at home. Then they were to come out, like Elias, like Samson, like Gedeon, and do battle by word and work, strengthened by fasting and prayer, against the enemies of the Lord God. This is what we mean by "the double spirit"--the "action" and "contemplation"--of the new institutions.

             Another word as to the organization of the "New Orders," as they were styled in St. Thomas's day, may be of help in preparing us for the controversy. As the Orders differ in the minor details of their "Constitutions," each according to the peculiar spirit breathed into it by its founder, and the distinctive work which is the characteristic of each, I will single out that of the Dominicans, of which, as I have said, St. Thomas was a distinguished member. The old monastic institutions were, for the most part, autonomous. Each monastery was, as a rule, independent of every other. There were exceptions, no doubt; but this was the general rule. The newly established Orders were, as their work demanded, founded upon a different basis. Each convent or priory was, in a sense, independent of the others; yet they were all united to a common centre, and all were dependent upon a common head. Each had its own superior; and yet a Common Superior ruled over all. The superiors were chosen by the subjects; the subjects owed obedience to the superiors whom they themselves had chosen.

             The organization of the Orders founded in the Middle Ages ought to appeal to the spirit of the present age, it ought to come home to the minds of English-thinking and English-speaking people. It is, in a word, democratic. Its spirit is liberal. Its government is elective. The Dominican Order, for instance, spread throughout the world, has everywhere the same rule and the same laws; but, for the purpose of government, it is divided into what are called provinces, which are ruled by Provincials, or National Superiors. At the present time there are twenty-five such divisions or provinces, governed by twenty-five Provincials. Most countries form one distinct province; but in some countries, where Dominicans are many, there are several provinces; as in France, where there are three, and in Italy, where there are five. Each Convent or Priory in a province is governed by a Prior, who, with his Community, is subject to the Provincial. Each province, with its Provincial, its Priors, and, indeed, all its members, is subject to one supreme head, who rules over all the provinces, who is called by the old-world title of "Master-General," and who resides habitually in Rome. The Priors are elected by the Fathers of their Community, subject to the approval of the Provincial. The Provincials are chosen by the Dignitaries of the province, by the Priors, and by representatives of each Priory or house, subject to the approval of the General. The General is elected by the Provincials and others, who are chosen by the members of each province for that purpose; the election of the General being subject to the approval of the Pope. The Provincial, at stated times, makes a Visitation of each Priory, to see that the rule of the Order is kept, and that the work of the Order is done; and the General, much less frequently, visits each province, for the same purpose.

             Hence, Unity is the proud boast of the Order to which St. Thomas belonged. Centralization is the essential element of its organization. Its centralization is the secret of its unity, even as its unity was, and is, the secret of whatever of good it may have been instrumental in bringing about in the world. In the Dominican Order we see the reflected unity of the Church, which is the mother. It is the glory of the Dominicans, that, like the robe of Christ, their Order has remained seamless and undivided for nearly seven hundred years, even as has the Church for well-nigh nineteen hundred. "Non scindamus eam," the soldiers said of our Lord's garment; "Let us not cut it and divide it, but let us cast lots as to whose it shall be." Dominicans have re-echoed that word, "Let us not divide it." They have had no schism, no division, no sections. They are, and have always been, one. They have had through the ages, and have now throughout the world, one General, or supreme head, under the Pope, the lineal successor of St. Dominic, their founder; one rule, the Rule of St. Augustine, supplemented everywhere by the same constitutions; one organization, whose centre has been in Rome, and from which the Order has extended into all lands; one spirit, the "double spirit," of contemplation at home and zealous action abroad; one end and one aim--the salvation of the souls of men.

             In the Dominican Order unity prevails. Why? For this reason--all are subject to authority: Friar to Prior; Friar and Prior to Provincial; Friar, Prior, and Provincial to General; Friar, Prior, Provincial, and General, all are subject, all are devotedly, unswervingly, loyal to the Vicar of Christ, the successor of Peter, the Pope who resides in Rome. Here is an object-lesson in unity. The secret of unity being that there is one supreme authority governing, and so uniting all, in one bond of fraternity and brotherly love, and in one system of earnest fruitful zeal.

             As with the Dominican, so is it with the other Orders founded in the Middle Ages, as well as with the Orders, formally approved by the Church, which have been established in later times, on the lines of the more ancient institutions. They reflect the Church's unity, as they carry on the Church's work. As the child resembles the mother; as the piece cut out of the rock is like the stone from which it is hewn; as the clay is of the same nature as the earth-pit out of which it is dug; so the Religious Orders bear a resemblance, a filial likeness, to the Church, their mother. They do her work. They carry her messages to men. She is the spring, they the rivulets coming from the spring to irrigate the earth, and to refresh the spiritual plants and flowers. She is the tree, and they the branches through which she gives fruit to the world. She is the sun, they the rays bearing her light to men. She is the centre of the great system which makes men wonder, more than they have wondered at the Pyramids of Egypt, the Walls of Babylon, the Temple of Diana at Ephesus, and the other great marvels of the world; the Orders radiate from her, and acknowledge her as the centre of all.

             That the supply answered to a demand, that is to say, that there was a distinct need for such Orders, combining the active with the contemplative life, with an organization such as was given to them by their founders, is evidenced by the success which followed their institution in the thirteenth century, by their marvellous growth throughout Christendom, and by their undying life through the ages. It is seen in their existence and work in the Catholic World today.

             We may take England as an instance--although in some other countries their growth was more rapid, and their influence more widespread. There can be no manner of doubt, that there was a definite want in the religious life of this country, which they were destined to supply.

             To confine ourselves again to the Dominicans. In his own lifetime St. Dominic sent his children to our fathers in this land, then so far away. They came in 1221, settling at Oxford, and, in the same year, or the year following, founded a Convent in London. Before the year 1277 there were forty Priories in England and Wales, and the number increased to fifty-two. In London they were established, in 1221 or 1222, in Holborn, on the site now known as Lincoln's Inn Gardens. Then in 1278 a new site was obtained, and a large Priory was built, which existed till 1638, on Ludgate Hill. We may form some idea of the size of this Convent when we remember that Parliaments were held there; and that it covered the ground now occupied by the Times Printing Office, the Apothecaries' Hall, and the City Station of the London, Chatham, and Dover Railway. It gave its name to a district, and the name still remains--Blackfriars. During the reign of Queen Mary, from December 1655 to July 1559, the members of the Order held the Church of St. Bartholomew in Smithfield, which has lately been restored.

             Nor must we forget, all the while, that these houses in England, although governed immediately each by its own Prior, and all by a National Superior called a Provincial, were, one and all, subject to a General Superior, who was the head of all the houses of every nation or province in the world. This subjection was not merely nominal; it was practical and real. The English Dominican Annals, preserved in the Record Office and the British Museum, bear witness to the union of the English branch with the other branches spread through the Catholic World, all the branches forming one tree with the stem which was planted in Rome. General Chapters of the entire Order were held in England under the presidency of the Master-General, who at other times, as well, exercised jurisdiction over all the houses in the land.

             Blessed Jordan of Saxony, the second General of the Order, came to England in 1230, and spent some time in London and Oxford. He evidently canonically established the Province of England; for in this year the first Provincial Chapter was held at Oxford, and the canonical election of Provincials began. In 1250 Father John Wilderhusen (commonly called John the Teutonic), who was the fourth General, held the thirtieth General Chapter of the Order in the Convent of Holborn. At this Chapter more than four hundred Friars assisted from all parts of Christendom, some coming even from the Holy Land. On the first day of the Chapter the King (Henry III.) dined with the Friars. Father Humbertus Burgundus de Romanis, the fifth General, in the year 1263 held the forty-second General Chapter in London, at which, according to some of his biographers quoted by Touron, St. Thomas Aquinas was present, to represent the Province of Rome. Father Joannes de Vercellis, the sixth General, presided over the fifty-ninth General Chapter, held at Oxford in the year 1280. King Edward I. honoured it with his presence, and the General admitted his consort, Queen Eleanor of Castille, to a participation in all the merits and good works of the Order. Father Berengarius de Landorra, the thirteenth General, held the ninetieth General Chapter in the Ludgate Convent, London, on May 26, 1314. Father Hugh de Vansseman, the sixteenth General, held the 110th General Chapter in London in the June of 1335. Thus has the Order been perpetuated, in one land or another, through the seven centuries, down to our own time. If in England there has been a break in the continuity, in other lands the hierarchical chain has remained unbroken. The system has ever been an organized system. The work has never flagged or failed. There has been no hiatus in the continuity, or continuous unity, of the work begun seven hundred years ago. This double historical fact of the continuous life and the unbroken unity of the Orders, dispenses with the need of arguments to prove that the new form of religious life, which dates from the thirteenth century, was called for by the exigencies of that and the succeeding ages.

             The reader having realised the spirit, the work, and the organization of the active Orders, and having formed his own opinion of their undoubted need in the Catholic World, will be the better able to understand the justice or injustice of the war which was waged against them.

             No one will attempt to deny, that, however unreasonable the opposition, it was not to be wondered at, that opposition there should be. The new development of religious life, was, undoubtedly, an innovation in the history of the Orders. It had, nevertheless,--and we must ever bear this in mind--the full approval of the Church. The Orders were "confirmed" by the Sovereign Pontiffs. Their rules and constitutions were sanctioned by the Holy See. They received their commission to "go and teach," and to "preach the Gospel," from the Vicar of Jesus Christ. The spirit of the motto of the Dominicans, Laudare, benedicere et praedicare (to praise, to bless, and to preach), which gave the keynote to their life, had the warmest approval of the Ecclesiastical Authorities of the time.

             It was an innovation, it is true; but the times called for an innovation. It was a revolution, if you will, but a revolution in the true sense of the word, and not in the sense in which it is often used in our own day. It was evolution--revolution without the r. We call a fundamental change in an organization or a government, or a radical change in a way or mode of life, a revolution. There are revolutions which are conducive to good, as well as revolutions which are upheavals, and which are subversive of order, and creators of anarchy and confusion. A revolution which is approved by legitimate authority, which is for the higher good of the community, which tends to the amelioration of society, which upholds the principles of morality, and which is subject to "the powers that be," is, without doubt, a good and not an evil. Such was the revolution to which we refer. It was an evolution of the Gospel maxims and precepts. It was a return to the apostolic times. "Go and teach"; "Preach the Gospel to every living creature"; "Go, sell all thou hast and give to the poor, and come and follow Me," were words which were spoken to priests in the first Age. They were spoken to priests again in the thirteenth. The priests were members of Religious Orders, but they were priests all the same. The revolution consisted in this, that the religious, in the expressive words of the Dominican rule, were not only to "contemplate," but they were in future "to give to others the fruits of their contemplation," because, as the great St. Gregory says, "Teaching and preaching are to be preferred to simple contemplation."

             It was against this change, ostensibly, though, in reality, it was against the fundamental principles of all religious life, that William of St. Amour, the gifted Doctor of the Sorbonne, raised his voice and devoted his pen, and made use of the influence which his position and undoubted, though probably exaggerated, talents gave him. Abelard, more than a century before, in the days of St. Bernard, had written against the Orders, but St. Amour went far beyond Abelard in his attacks upon them. The brilliant and erratic Abelard wore a religious habit, for a time, himself. He only attacked the Orders incidentally, as it were by a side thrust of his lance. Indeed it was principally against the abuses, and not the life itself, that he inveighed. But St. Amour, the violent and turbulent Doctor of the Sorbonne, aimed at the very heart of the religious system. He smote with a vengeance, and with a vengeance begotten of hate. His pen was of wormwood, his ink was of gall. His tongue was as a sword of fire. In his private conversations, and in his public utterances--notably in a sermon entitled, De Publicano et Pharisaeo (Of the Publican and the Pharisee)--his words were as words of fire. Were it possible, they would have burnt into the very vitals of the religious state. It was war to the death. St. Thomas, realising the deadly effort of the inveterate foe of the Orders, sums it up in the expressive words of the eighty-second Psalm, with which he begins his Apology or Defence. "For lo, thy enemies have made a noise: and they that hate thee have lifted up their head. They have taken a malicious counsel against thy people, and have consulted against thy saints. They have said: come and let us destroy them, so that they be not a nation; and let the name of Israel be remembered no more." And later on he cites the words of Queen Esther's plaintive prayer: "Our enemies resolve to destroy us and to extinguish thine inheritance."

             St. Amour wrote a treatise DE VALIDO MENDICANTE in which are to be found many errors, and misstatements, both of fact and of doctrine. His principal work, however, was one to which he gave the title "De Periculis Novissimorum temporum" (The Perils of the last times). This book, and his Collectiones Sacrae Scripturae, to which I shall presently refer (and which was only a réchauffé of the former work), together with his bitter, sarcastic words, were a determined attempt to destroy the recently established Orders, and especially that of the Dominicans. For, although he professed to treat the question of Religious Orders in the abstract, and, although he protested that he did not wish to condemn any Order approved by the Church, it is evident and beyond doubt, that his poisoned arrows were aimed at the Franciscans and Dominicans, the latter especially, who at that time had gained an undoubted influence amongst rich and poor, learned and illiterate, with the people, and even at royal courts.

             The popularity of the New Orders had appealed to the jealousy of many. The influence of the Friars, and the respect which they commanded, were the secret of the storm that was raised against them. It is the repetition of history. History repeats itself again today. The Friars had made their mark in the seats of learning, as well as in the villages and towns. They were occupying Professorial Chairs, and that too with distinction--chairs of philosophy, theology, Canon Law and Scripture--in the great universities of Catholic Christendom. Even in the lifetime of St. Dominic, we find them at the Universities of Paris, Oxford, Bologna, and Toulouse. Their lectures and sermons attracted large audiences.

             Besides their reputed learning, they had the charm of novelty.

 "Of all the passions that possess mankind,

 The love of novelty rules most the mind."

Men then, as now, and as in all times, made a fetish of novelty. The Athenians and the strangers were not singular, when, as we are told in the Acts of the Apostles, "they were employed in nothing else but either in telling or hearing something new." The search for novelty is a craving of nature. We may call it an inborn passion of the human mind. It is a moving principle. It is one of the secrets of progress.

 "Yea, from the table of my memory

 I'll wipe away all trivial fond records,

 All saws of books, all forms, all pressures past,

 That youth and observation copied there;

 And thy commandments all alone shall live

 Within the book and volume of my brain"

is the pledge of every age, not to the ghost of the past, but to the actuality of the present hour.

             Novelty, however, was not, by any means, the only recommendation of the Friars to the men of thought of the thirteenth century. They had learning. They had piety. There were amongst them distinguished men, men of mark, men who were giants amongst their fellows, men, who, to learning and science wedded sanctity of purpose, and holiness of life. They were known to be men of distinction, as well as holy men.

             Blessed Albert the Great, the master of St. Thomas, was called "the Great" even in his lifetime--"great in philosophy, greater in theology, greatest in natural science," as the old chronicler pithily puts it. It is on record, that, when he lectured in Paris, his audience outgrew the largest hall in the city; so that he had to address the multitude of his disciples in an open square, which, from this incident, was afterwards called "Place Maubert," i.e. the square of "Maître (Master) Albert." Raymund of Penafort, the venerable canonist, who, after Gratian, was the first to systematise the common, or canon-law, of the Church, was distinguished not merely by his wisdom and learning, but by his miracles and sanctity. He, thus, gained for himself not only the name of "the Counsellor of Kings," but the still nobler title of "Saint." The Franciscan, St. Bonaventura, who is called "the 'Seraphic' Doctor," as St. Thomas is called "the Angelic," by his brilliant eloquence, his learned writings, and the simplicity of his holy life, won, not only the minds, but the hearts of many. Of St. Thomas himself we need not speak. His learning, his clear yet subtle mind, his eloquence, and the charm of his saintly life were irresistible. Add to these well-known names, many others of the twin-orders, and it is not difficult to realise and explain the jealousy of the men, whose minor lights were dimmed by the brilliancy of the greater orbs. As St. Thomas expresses it, "Major lux offuscat minorem," the greater light obscures the lesser. The lesser light does not love the obscuration. Hinc illae lacrymae. They could not gainsay the teaching of the Friars; so they attacked, not their doctrine, not their life as religious, merely, but the very principles upon which the life was based. They essayed to sap the foundation upon which the new Orders rested. No one was more persistent in his efforts than William of St. Amour. He was, as we have seen, the chief and the champion of the enemies of the religious life and calling.

             Natalis Alexander, in his Historia Ecclesiastica, gives us a résumé of the principal propositions sustained by St. Amour in his chief work, "The perils of the last times." This summary will serve as a key to the line of argument adopted by the Angelic Doctor in the treatise in defence of the Orders. The title of St. Amour's book is, evidently, suggested by the words of St. Paul to Timothy, "Know also that, in the last days, shall come dangerous times: men shall be lovers of themselves, covetous, haughty, proud, blasphemers . . . having an appearance indeed of piety, but denying the power thereof. Now these avoid." "They are always learning, and never attaining to the knowledge of the truth." "They resist the truth; men corrupted in mind, reprobate as to the faith." These men are, according to St. Amour, the friars of the New Orders. He warns the faithful against them, as the Apostle warned his faithful disciple against the evil doers of the last times. He protests against the life they are leading, nay against the first principles of that life. They are aspiring to a work which is beyond their calling. They are leading a life of external apostolic work, which is incompatible with the duties of the religious state. Even though appointed by the Pope, and approved by Bishops, they have no right to preach, unless they are invited to do so by the people. Others may preach, but not religious; for this derogates from the rights of the ecclesiastical hierarchy. They are not "sent" by God; and "how can they preach unless they be sent?" They ought to live by the work of their hands, and not by preaching. Neither should they be mendicants. There is danger in this; they become flatterers, and worse. It is no sign of perfection to leave all for Christ, and then to follow Christ as mendicants. If they leave all for Christ, they must either remain in a monastery, or else support themselves, not by teaching and preaching, but by corporal work. Even though they be permitted by the Church to beg, it is unlawful so to do, being opposed to the teaching of the Apostle. If they receive alms in return for their preaching, they are guilty of simony. Neither must they lecture in places where laymen lecture (i.e. at the Universities), for they ought to follow the counsels; and one of the counsels given by Our Lord is, "Be not ye called Rabbi (or Master)." If, then, they disobey this counsel, they sin, and give scandal; and so they ought to be avoided. They must not wear common garments (evidently a reflection upon the Franciscans). The Roman Pontiffs cannot give leave to all the members of an Order to preach and hear confessions, anywhere and everywhere, without limit or condition. The See of Rome was (he said) unwise in approving of so many mendicant Orders. Finally, he accused the members of the Orders of being false preachers, hypocrites, and idlers.

             Such, in brief, was the teaching of William of St. Amour in his "De Periculis Novissimorum temporum." St. Thomas had no reason to complain when this work appeared, that the challenge with which he ends his tract "On the Perfection of the Spiritual Life" had not been accepted. "It will please me," he wrote, "if someone will answer what I have said. For, there is no more satisfactory way of teaching truth and of refuting error, than by discussion." He quoted the words of the Book of Proverbs, "Iron sharpeneth iron; so a man sharpeneth the countenance of his friend." The Saint adds, significantly: "God Himself will judge between us and them." The "answer" came and with it the opportunity "of teaching truth and refuting error by discussion." Iron sharpened iron, and a man sharpened the countenance of his friend.

             Happily for the Friars, there was a David at hand to meet this "Goliath from the camp of the Philistines." "David made haste and ran to the fight to meet the Philistine." "Let not any man's heart be dismayed (he said), I thy servant will go, and will fight against the Philistine." The David "was a young man, ruddy, and of comely complexion." "Young man" though he was, "dumb ox" though he had been called, he had already made his name. The forecast of the Great Albert had been realised--the bellowing of the dumb ox had been heard throughout Christendom. If William of St. Amour took up the pen which Abelard, a century and a half before, had, in the hour of his repentance, cast from him; St. Thomas wielded, with deadly effect, the pen which had fallen from the emaciated hand of the dying St. Bernard.

             The saintly King Lewis of France, a life-long friend and generous patron of the Friars, sent the work of St. Amour to the Holy See. He commissioned two doctors of theology to proceed to Anagni, where the Pope with the Papal Court was then residing, to protest against the errors it contained, and to defend the interests of the Religious Orders. St. Bonaventure went as the representative of the Franciscans. Several Dominicans were, also, deputed to take part in the discussion. Pope Alexander IV., who in the year 1254 had succeeded Innocent IV., appointed two commissions to examine, and report upon the work. One commission consisted of four Cardinals--viz. Hugh of St. Caro, Eudes de Châteauroux, John di Ursine, and John Francioge. The second commission was, by order of the Holy Father, to be composed of members of the Dominican Order. The General of the Order (Humbert de Romanis--the fifth in succession to St. Dominic) was instructed to see that St. Thomas Aquinas should be one of the body. Needless to say that William of St. Amour with a strong party of his followers, amongst them being an Englishman with the un-English name of Jean de Gectville, then Rector of the Paris University, set out for Anagni to defend himself and his work, and to ventilate his grievances against the Friars. They arrived, however, only in time to see the book of St. Amour in the fire.

             Till this moment, as far as I can ascertain, St. Thomas had taken no part in the controversy. He seems to have, designedly, kept aloof from the fray; for his tract on "the Perfection of the Spiritual Life," as the reader will have seen, is not of a controversial kind. Even when, on a certain Palm Sunday, the University beadle appeared in the Church of St. Jacques in Paris as the Saint was preaching, and, commanding him to be silent, read aloud a long list of complaints against the Religious, it is on record, that, when the reading was over, without referring to the interruption, he peacefully and calmly continued his sermon. But now, at the voice of obedience, he suspended his lectures and sermons, and immediately repaired to Anagni, to take his part in the historic commission, so vital in its consequences to the future of the Religious Orders.

             The account of this visit is given by Touron, to whom we are indebted for many of the interesting details in the history of this controversy. It reveals the sanctity at once and the simplicity, together with the deep learning, the wide reading, and the prodigious memory of the Angelic Doctor. Albert the Great and Saint Bonaventure were already at Anagni. A crisis was imminent; it was necessary to summon the great defenders of the Church. When St. Thomas arrived, the General of the Dominicans called the brethren together, for they had a Priory in the town. Singling out our saint from the rest, he thus addressed him, in the presence of the assembled brethren: "See, my son; the Order of St. Dominic is attacked by enemies who are most powerful. Its honour appears now to be entrusted to your light and your zeal. Take this book which has raised such a storm against us, and which seems to threaten the peace of the Church, and to prevent, in part at least, the fruits of our life of preaching, and the good example which we may show by a spotless life. Read it. Examine it. See, before God, what we are to say in reply, in order to put an end to this scandal. I unite my prayers to the command which comes to you from the Vicar of Jesus Christ."

             St. Thomas, taking the book from the General's hands, asked the prayers of the assembled Friars, and then retired to his cell. There he prayed for light, according to his wont. He made an act of humility before God. Then, with his keen, piercing intellect, he carefully examined it. He easily perceived the weak points, the arguments which were spurious, the reasoning which was wanting, the apparent conclusions which, in reality, did not result from the premises, and the fallacies and subtleties upon which the chief arguments of William of St. Amour were founded. When the Chapter assembled the following morning, St. Thomas reassured his anxious brethren. "Fear not (he said). Have confidence in God. The book which has so alarmed you, will not do the harm that you imagine. God has shown me how false, how captious, how full of errors it is. With the help of the Lord, we can clearly show its falsity, its speciousness, its errors, and its flagrant abuse of the words of Scripture and the writings of the Holy Fathers."

             "David made haste, and ran to the fight, to meet the Philistine." His sword was his pen, his shield the Word of God, his buckler the writings of the doctors of the Church. After a few days, we are told, he appeared before the Sovereign Pontiff and the Papal Court. He argued with such marvellous clearness, reasoned with such convincing closeness, dismissed the objections of St. Amour with such consummate skill, that the triumph of the cause of the Religious Orders, was, from that moment, assured. The members of the Commission of Cardinals, to which I have already referred, submitted the report of their discussions to the Holy Father. Natalis Alexander tells us, that this entirely coincided with the conclusions of St. Thomas. They informed the Sovereign Pontiff that there were in the "Perils of these latter days," many things against the power and authority of the Holy See, and the teaching of the Church. They assured His Holiness that it was a dangerous book, and one which must give scandal; and that it was calculated to do harm to souls.

             The next act was, practically, the final one in the drama. It ended, to all intents and purposes, the great controversy which had convulsed Catholic Europe. On the fifth day of October, 1256, Alexander IV. issued a Bull, in which he declared that, "We, by Apostolic Authority, hereby reprobate and condemn the book called TRACTATUS DE PERICULIS TEMPORUM NOVISSIMORUM as unjust, wicked, and execrable." He ordered that within eight days it should be burned; and he forbade its further publication. In a letter to King Lewis of France, the Holy Father informed him of the condemnation. He, at the same time, commended the Friars to his protection, begging of him "to receive them with his usual grace and kindness, as the well-proved and accepted ministers of Christ, and to guard them against all injuries and molestations." The Pope wrote, also, to several Bishops, and amongst them to the Bishop of Paris, desiring them to threaten and visit with suspension, excommunication, and deprivation of benefices any who should uphold the errors of William of St. Amour. The Friars were to be received at the Universities, St. Thomas and St. Bonaventure being mentioned by name, as Masters or Professors.

             William of St. Amour, on the other hand, "a quarrelsome man, and one who is obstinate in his perversity," was forbidden to teach at the Paris University, or even to enter France. In the year 1263, however, Pope Urban IV. withdrew the latter prohibition. It must be borne in mind by those to whom this command of the Pope may seem an extreme measure, hardly justified by the circumstances of the case, that St. Amour was a beneficed cleric, and, consequently subject to the Pope, and that his presence in France was, at the time, calculated to foment trouble and promote discord. Banishment from a kingdom is, after all, a salutary, as well as a penal measure. It would be well perhaps, for England, if, in punishment of certain offences which are subversive of social order--such as treason, anarchy, and the inciting to sedition and crime--the penalty in vogue in olden times were revived. Salus populi suprema lex. Aristotle says (12 Ethic), in words quoted by our author, that, "Punitive measures are, at times, remedial." We cut out a cancer from the body, we lop a rotten branch from a tree, to protect the body, and to save the tree. Nature's laws are God's laws. We shall not be far wrong if we frame our human laws according to the divine ideal. At any rate, William of St. Amour was, for a time, banished from the land in which he had sown the seeds of discord, lest he should perhaps sow where he had not as yet sown, or reap where he had already sown.

             After the condemnation of their leader, his followers, for the most part, left him. His influence waned. His power was broken. They subscribed to the conditions laid down by the Holy See. They pledged themselves no longer to oppose the Friars. They promised to receive them as Professors at the University. They accepted, as fully approved by the Church, and worthy of all respect, the twin-orders of St. Francis and St. Dominic. Peace was restored. The controversy seemed to be at an end.

             William of St. Amour, however, "the quarrelsome man, obstinate in his perversity," was, though silenced, not convinced. During his retirement in his family seat at St. Amour, a village of Burgundy, to which after his condemnation he repaired, he brooded over his failure. The fire of passion and hate had not gone out; it was still smouldering in his breast. "Ten years after," Touron tells us, "it seemed as though he were anxious to return to the fray." He presented to the Pope (Clement IV.) what professed to be another book on the subject of the Orders. The work bore the title "Collectiones Sacrae Scripturae." It was in reality his old book "De Periculis" under another name, and in a different form. If the hands were the hands of Esau, the voice was the voice of Jacob. Clement IV. wrote, in reply, to his "beloved son, Master William of Saint Amour," a letter dated, Viterbo the eighteenth of October 1266. In this epistle he quoted, and applied to St. Amour--or, at least, warned him against the possibility of their application--the words of Faustus to St. Paul, "Thou art beside thyself. Much learning hath made thee mad." "We have looked into the little book which you have sent to us (the Pope continues), which, although it occasionally varies from it, is really very like the old one (licet interdum alias oras circumeat, veterem tamen multum sapit)." The Pontiff goes on to say that, "although it is differently coloured, it is evident, that the substance of the first book is there." He promises to read the entire work, and to show it to other "lovers of truth"; and then to reply more fully.

             One of the "lovers of truth" to whom it was shown was St. Thomas. Having examined the new brochure, the Holy Dominican Doctor found nothing new in it except the form--no new argument which had not been met, no new objection which had not been solved, no new proposition which had not been weighed. And so, in the words of Touron, "he thought it sufficient to revise and republish the discourse which he had pronounced at Anagni in presence of Pope Alexander IV." Fleury is of opinion that it was published then for the first time. This discourse--probably amplified by the Saint after its delivery--is the tract "Against those who attack the Religious State," which makes up the first part of this volume.

             The treatise "Against those who deter others from entering the Religious Life," which constitutes the second part of this English translation, was, apparently, written shortly afterwards. In the former work, as will be seen, the nature of the religious life is explained, its work defined, its principles and practices defended, its external apostolate of teaching and preaching upheld, and the objections and difficulties of its enemies refuted. It is, as has been said, "An Apology" for the Religious Orders, especially of the "Active" Orders, as they are called, in contradistinction to the Monastic, or purely "Contemplative," Orders, the members of which live in monasteries a life of seclusion and prayer.

             Of the second work, the title suggests the object and scope. It is written in praise of the religious state. It treats of vocations to the religious life, and of those who may, and those who may not, embrace it. It answers several questions which sometimes puzzle directors and penitents in our own times, as to whether the young, whether recent converts, whether sinners who are, however, prepared to forsake their habits of sin, may become religious. The wisdom of binding oneself by vows is discussed; and the circumstances under which vows are either sanctioned and encouraged or disapproved and condemned, are laid down. Community or common-life, and religious poverty, are considered, with St. Thomas's usual precision, and calm, dispassionate reasoning. All this is done with a wealth of imagery, and an abundance of quotations from the Scriptures, the Fathers, and ecclesiastical hagiography, which are peculiar, even amongst the doctors of the Church, to the one who is called "the Angelic." The object of the treatise is, clearly, to encourage religious vocations, and to condemn those who would prevent Christians from entering the religious Orders of the Church. The tract ends, like the first one which appeared recently in an English translation, with a challenge. "These are the things which I have felt called upon to write against the erroneous and pestiferous doctrine of those who would hold people back from entering religion. If anyone wishes to contradict what I have said, let him not chatter (non garriat) before children; rather let him write and let him publish his writing, that men of intelligence may judge of the truth, and that the error, if such there be, may be corrected by the authority of truth."

             This is the subject matter, in brief, of the volume which is now offered to the thoughtful student, and to the unbiassed judgment of intelligent men and women of the English-speaking world. It is the Catholic résumé of Catholic teaching, upon a subject, which has ever had a fascination for the English-thinking mind. It is written, too, by one who speaks as one having both experience and authority, one of the lights of the Catholic Church as well as a member of a religious order.

             From the day when St. Augustine and his companions landed on our Kentish shores--perhaps even before--monks and nuns have ever found a home on English soil. In Ireland they have always entered into the very life and history of the people. Into the new world they came with Columbus. The ship that bore the great explorer to the far-off, and, till then, unknown, shores, carried the religious in like manner. A Dominican, a Franciscan, and a member of the Order of Mercy took possession of the Newfound-land, with the great Admiral who will be famous to all time. The life of the religious man and the religious woman has always appealed, with unfailing and unerring accuracy, to Saxon and Celt alike, and to all who speak and read our common mother-tongue. Many have embraced it; more have admired it; few, comparatively, have decried it. Our historians have written about it; our poets have sung its praise; our very novelists have found in it a prolific theme.

             This clear, and well-reasoned defence of that life and its principles, will be welcomed by many, especially at the present hour, when English-speaking people are opening their arms and their large generous hearts, in offering hospitality, once again, as they did in the early years of the past century and at the end of the preceding one, to those who are, once more, being driven from their own inhospitable shores. For, though the two treatises which make this a volume, were written nearly seven hundred years ago, they still have a living actuality which appeals to the present time. The religious life, like the Church which gave it birth, is as unchanged, as unchanging, and as unchangeable, as is its Mother. Its principles are the same. They vary neither jot nor tittle. The only variety is, in their application to the needs of the times, and to the varying conditions and circumstances of men.

             The words of St. Thomas will come home with special force, I venture to think, to our English-speaking race which boasts of its fairness, and professes to give "a fair field," even if it refuses its "favour." St. Thomas is nothing, if not fair. The late Most Reverend Roger Bede Vaughan, O.S.B., in his valuable life of the Saint, writes of him, "He confronts his adversary fairly in the field. He states their arguments with honesty and force. He slurs nothing over. He meets each allegation point by point. If a false principle be stated, he throws the light of truth upon it and exhibits all its hollowness. If a fallacy is advanced, he makes it collapse by touching it with the point of genuine logic. If error be pushed forward, dressed in the garb of truth, he applies his test, and, dividing each from each, rejects the one, and takes the other under his protection. And, finally, after having slain the enemy, he then proceeds to do what is still more important than mere destruction--to establish upon a deep and broad basis of truth, that system which he had undertaken to defend against attack." The student of the Works of St. Thomas will, unhesitatingly, endorse every word of this eloquent testimony. Every reader of the pages which follow these words, will, without doubt, subscribe to that endorsement, so far, at least, as this volume represents the mind and spirit of the Saint.

             The same biographer of St. Thomas, the learned Benedictine Archbishop, whose words I have just quoted, applies the general remark to the treatises--or rather to one of them--which are now introduced to the reader. I commend his words to anyone to whom the subject, or the subject matter, or the form in which it is presented, may, perchance, appear but little attractive. "In reading the 'Contra impugnantes'" (he writes) "it is impossible not to be struck by the completeness with which the Holy Doctor answered all the accusations--or, rather, calumnies and slanders--of his adversary. He not only reduced him to powder in his main reply, but he pursued him into all details and through all minutiae; and he does not let one argument escape thorough refutation and complete exposition. The knowledge of Scripture is here very remarkable. Students in those days were without the facilities which are possessed in these. St. Thomas could not refer to carefully composed concordances and dictionaries. Still, he is never at a loss. Then, his ingenuity of proof; his clear, deep incision of argument; his well-measured phrase; his calm unruffled advance; the grand balance of his mind which reigns throughout, speak of two things; they say that he is a doctor, and they say that he is a saint. Solidity, force, modesty, unimpassioned power, brilliancy, and depth are manifested here. He never says too much; and yet he has the constant art of not saying too little. It would repay any student who has a love for logic, to make himself master of the entire treatise."

JOHN PROCTER, O.P.