Chapter X: S. Xystus, Pope 489 (5)

In the mean time, Perpetua and Felicitas had been exposed to a wild cow; Perpetua and Felicitas were the first attacked, and the cow having tossed the former, she fell on her back. Then putting herself in a sitting posture, and perceiving her clothes were torn, she gathered them about her in the best manner she could, to cover herself, thinking more of decency than her sufferings.[30] Getting up, not to seem disconsolate, she tied up her hair, which was fallen loose, and perceiving Felicitas on the ground much hurt by a toss of the cow, she helped her to rise. They stood together, expecting another assault from the beasts, but the people crying out that it was enough, they were led to the gate Sanevivaria, where those that were not killed by the beasts were despatched at the end of the shows by the confectores. Perpetua was here received by Rusticus, a catechumen. She seemed as if just returning out of a long ecstasy, and asked when she was to fight the wild cow. When told what had passed, she could not believe it till she saw on her body and clothes the marks of what she had suffered. She called for her brother, and said to him and Rusticus, "Continue firm in the faith, love one another, and be not distressed at our sufferings." All the martyrs were now brought to the place of their butchery. But the people, not yet satisfied with beholding blood, cried out to have them led into the middle of the amphitheatre, that they might have the pleasure of seeing them receive the last blow. Upon this, some of the martyrs rose up, and having given one another the kiss of peace, went of their own accord into the arena; others were despatched without speaking, or stirring out of the places they were in. S. Perpetua fell into the hands of a very timorous and unskilful apprentice of the gladiators, who, with a trembling hand, gave her many slight wounds, which made her languish a long time. Thus, says S. Augustine, did two women, amidst fierce beasts and the swords of gladiators, vanquish the devil and all his fury. The day of their martyrdom was the 7th of March, as it is marked in the most ancient martyrologies, and in a Roman Martyrology as old as the year 554. S. Prosper says they suffered at Carthage, which agrees with all the circumstances. Their bodies were preserved in the great church of Carthage, in the 5th century, as Victor of Utica relates. The body of S. Perpetua is said to be preserved at Bologna, in the Church of the Franciscans, but it is very questionable whether it is that of the S. Perpetua of Carthage, whose passion has just been narrated.

[30] Does not this remind the classic scholar of the description of the death of Polyxena, by Talthybius, in the Hecuba, "She even in death showed much care to fall decently."

S. EUBULUS, M.

(A.D. 308.)

[By the Greeks on Feb. 3rd, in conjunction with S. Adrian; but by the Roman Martyrology on this day, and S. Adrian on March 5th. Authority:--Eusebius, Hist. Eccl. lib. viii., c. 11.]

In the persecution in Palestine, carried out under the ferocious governor Firmilian, Adrian and Eubulus, natives of Manganæa, suffered. They came to Cæsarea, and were asked the cause of their coming, as they entered the gates of the city. They confessed that they had come to see and minister to the martyrs of Jesus Christ. They were at once apprehended and brought before Firmilian. He ordered them to be scourged and torn with hooks, and then to be devoured by the beasts. After the lapse of two days, on the third of the nones of March, Adrian was cast before a lion, and afterwards slain with the sword. Eubulus was also reserved to the nones of March, and was then cast to the beasts. He was the last to suffer for the faith at Cæsarea in that persecution.

S. PAUL THE SIMPLE, H.

(4TH CENT.)

[Greek Menæa and Roman Martyrology on the same day. But some Latin Martyrologies on Dec. 18th, others on Jan. 11th. Authorities:--Palladius, in his Hist. Lausiaca; Ruffinus, in his Lives of the Fathers of the Desert; and Sozomen, Hist. Eccles., lib. i., c. 13.]

Paul the Simple was one of the first disciples of S. Antony. He did not embrace the religious life till he was sixty, and then it was in consequence of the bad conduct of his wife. He had been a labourer in a village of the Thebaid, and was very ignorant. He came to S. Antony, but the patriarch of hermits refused to admit him, thinking him too old to adopt the monastic life. Paul, however, remained three days and nights outside the cell of Antony, and would not leave. Antony then came forth, and found that the man had no food; he, therefore, received him for a while, hoping to disgust him with the life of a hermit by the severity of his discipline. He set Paul to pray outside his door, and told him not to desist till he was released. The simple old labourer obeyed, and Antony observed him, unseen, praying with the blazing sun shining down on his head at noon-day, and the moon looking on him at night, as rigid and immoveable as one of the date palms of the desert. He then brought him into his cave, and gave him some platting to do. When it was accomplished he rebuked Paul for his having doing it badly, and bade him undo his work again. The postulant did as ordered without a murmur. Then Antony brought bread, and set the table in order for supper, and called the hungry Paul to it; then he said, "Before we eat, let us recite twelve psalms and twelve prayers," and he did so; and when the psalms and prayers were done, Antony said, "We have looked on the bread, that will suffice for supper; now let us retire to rest." Yet Paul murmured not; so Antony saw that he was qualified to be a monk.

Once, as Antony and some of his guests were discoursing on spiritual matters, Paul asked very simply, "Were the prophets before Jesus Christ, or Jesus Christ before the prophets?" Then Antony reddened, and bade him keep in the background, and hold his tongue. Now Paul at once obeyed, and remained for some time silent, and out of sight, and they told Antony of it. Then he said, "Oh, my brethren! learn from this man what our obedience towards God ought to be. If I say anything, he does it instantly and cheerfully, and we--do we thus behave towards our God?"

S. THOMAS AQUINAS, D., O.P.

(A.D. 1274.)

[The oldest notices of S. Thomas are found in Gerard de Fracheto; in Thos. Cantipratensis; Stephen de Salanacho; Tocco, a Dominican, who had seen S. Thomas, and heard him preach, left an account of his life and miracles, this work formed the basis of the labours of the Inquisition into our saint's miracles, held in 1319. This, and the bull of his canonization, issued by John XXII., in 1323, is the foundation of the first part of Guido's life and acts of S. Thomas; the latter part contains the miracles substantiated at the second Inquisition, or those told on trustworthy authority. There are many other lives, as also histories of the translations of his body. John XXII. ordered his festival to be kept as that of a confessor, on March 7th; Pius V., in 1567, ordered it to be honoured in the same manner as were the feasts of the Four Doctors of the Church.]

"The age of S. Thomas Aquinas," says Bareille, "was that of Innocent III., and of S. Louis, of Albert the Great, and of Roger Bacon, of Giotto, and of Dante. That age witnessed the birth of the cathedral of Cologne, and the Summa Theologiæ, of the Divine Comedy, and La Sainte Chapelle, of the Imitation of Jesus Christ, and the cathedral of Amiens. It was so fruitful in great men and great monuments, that it would need an entire volume to give a complete list of both. When we wander amidst the marvels of the thirteenth century, we are astonished at the injustice done to it through the ignorance of mankind.

"This astonishment is increased when we consider more attentively the vast movement which was then going on in the bosom of mankind. This was the age in which the Universities of Oxford and Paris were founded, in which S. Louis established his kingdom on a legitimate basis; in which the barons wrung the Magna Charta from king John; in which the great religious orders of S. Dominic and S. Francis sprung up; in which gunpowder was invented, the telescope discovered, the laws of gravitation recognized; in which the principles of political representation and of parliamentary debate sprang into fresh life; in which, lastly, the great nationalities of modern times were settling themselves decisively into their places. In the middle of this century S. Thomas appeared. This man sums up in his own person all that was purest and strongest in his age; he is a personification of that power which subjugates all other powers to its sway--the power of great ideas.

"Hitherto men have seen in S. Thomas nothing but the pious cenobite, or, at best, the saintly and profound theologian, who theorises in his cloister, scarce deigning to bestow a glance on the age in which he lives. But if we study the real facts of his history, if we put his works in connection with his actions, we see in him one of those active and impressionable minds which keep an anxious watch over the ideas of their time, either to array against them all the fulness of their power, as a dam against their disorderly movements, or to dash into their midst and to master them by guiding them. His was, indeed, an extraordinary genius, whose power contemporary minds were forced to recognize, whether they came to bruise themselves against his logic, or whether they came to submit themselves to his direction. He reigned in both ways, but more by seconding, than by checking, the movements of his age."

S. Thomas, "the most saintly of the learned, and the most learned of the saints," sprang from a noble race. His mother, Theodora, was descended from the Caraccioli, a Norman family, and was countess of Hano in her own right. Her ancestors had left Normandy 200 years before, and having driven the Saracens and Greeks out of the plains of Southern Italy, had established themselves at Naples and Messina, and having made prisoner the Roman pontiff, had received the crown from his trembling hands.

Landulf, Theodora's husband, of the house of Sommacoli, otherwise called Counts of Loreto, Ditcerra, and Belcastro, belonged to one of the most remarkable families of middle Italy. His father, Thomas, achieved so high a military reputation, that the emperor, Frederick Barbarossa, nominated him Lieutenant-General of the Holy Roman empire, and gave him his sister, Frances of Suabia, to wife. His ancestors had been Dukes of Capua, but when their inheritance was wrested from them, they assumed the title of Aquino, and settled themselves between the Volturno and the Garigliano. In the reign of Otto III., one of these rough warriors took Rocca Sicca from the abbot of Monte Cassino, and levelled it with the ground (996). Thus S. Thomas was nephew of Frederick the First and Henry the Fourth, and cousin of Frederick the Second, and could claim connection with the royal houses of Arragon, Sicily, and France. Yet, noble and illustrious as he was by birth, he was to be made nobler and more illustrious still by the brightness of his virtues and by the splendour of his intellect.

The saint's father seems to have combined a martial spirit with a firm devotion to the faith. Theodora, a woman of immense energy of character, kept herself in control by severe fasts and frequent vigils. The little town of Aquino occupies the centre of a vast and fertile plain, commonly called Campagna Felice. One of the rugged mountains which hem it in on all sides pushes forward a spur, called Rocca Sicca; on the summit of this crag still stand the ruins of the castle of the Aquinos. It was in a chamber of this castle that a Dominican friar appeared to Theodora, and exclaimed, "Rejoice, O lady, for thou art with child, and thou shalt bring forth a son, whom thou shalt call Thomas; both thou and thy husband will think to make him a monk in the monastery of Monte Cassino, where the body of blessed Benedict rests, hoping to obtain possession of the great income of that monastery by his elevation, but God has ordained otherwise concerning him, for he will become a brother of the Order of Preachers, and famous for his knowledge and the sanctity of his life."[31] She replied, "I am not worthy to bear such a son; but may the will of God be done!" In due course Theodora gave birth to him, who was afterwards called the Angelic Doctor, in the same year that S. Louis became king, and S. Francis of Assisi died. The date, however, is contested. Most trustworthy authorities put it at the year 1227. Some say it took place at Rocca Sicca, some at Aquino, others at Belcastro. Theodora had two other boys, both of whom adopted a military life; and three daughters: the eldest became a nun, and died an abbess; the second married Count San Severino; the youngest, when an infant, was sleeping with Thomas and his nurse, when a fork of lightning shot through the castle window, burnt the little girl to death, but left S. Thomas uninjured in his nurse's arms.

[31] Such is the legend, but possibly it may have been coined after the death of S. Thomas.

At the age of five, S. Thomas was sent to Monte Cassino, his parents hoping, in spite of the prophecy, if the prophecy had ever been really uttered, that he would eventually join the order, and become master of those vast possessions which were under the dominion of its abbots. The monastery in the early days of S. Thomas was the most distinguished school of letters in the land. The little child was doubtless dedicated to God, as others were; he was brought into the sanctuary in the arms of his parents, he spoke by their mouth, as at the font, he put out his tiny hand for the sacred corporal to be wrapped round it, and thus vowed himself to God. The education of the child was committed to a large-hearted and God-fearing man, whose chief object was to fill his soul with God. As a result of this training it came to pass that S. Thomas's constant question to his teachers was, "What is God?" Doubtless, they answered him in the apostle's words, "God is love." The personal appearance of the young S. Thomas indicated the presence of a governing spirit; not the command of brute force, but the command of intellect. He possessed that rare class of spiritual beauty which tells of gentleness, purity, and power. His massive head betokened strength; his broad tranquil brow, his meditative eyes, produced the impression, not so much of quickness and vivacity, as of breadth and command. He seemed to live in a sort of spiritual light,--as the sunbeam striking upon a landscape naturally beautiful invests it with a kind of transfiguration. Though he seldom spoke, when he did speak, he set hearts beating faster; and often, whilst thus conversing with his companions, the monks would approach the little gathering by stealth, to listen to the precocious wisdom of this extraordinary child.

After seven years quiet study, S. Thomas was forced to take refuge with his family from the violence of the imperial soldiers, who had sacked the abbey, and made a prey of all its wealth in plate and gems, the legacies of emperors, kings, and knights. The change to the feudal castle of Loreto must have been a violent one for the young saint. The tramp of armed men, the free carousing, the shouts and songs of mirth, must have been sources of temptation to a boy of twelve, whose life had hitherto been passed in the silence of the cloister, or amid the sacred songs of the monks, but the holy impressions already made on his soul shielded it from corruption.

An anecdote is related of him at this period which shows how full his young heart was of charity. During his sojourn at Loreto, a terrible famine ravaged Southern Italy. The Aquinos were extremely charitable to the poor, and Thomas acted as his father's almoner. But not satisfied with this, he sometimes stole secretly into the kitchen, filled his cloak with whatever came to hand, and hurried to the castle gate to divide his spoils amongst the famishing people. Having been reprimanded for doing so, he still persisted; but one day, as he was carrying his cloak full of provisions, he met his father unexpectedly, and was commanded to show what he was hiding with so much care. The child let fall his burden, but in the place of bread, a shower of flowers hid the feet of the boy, and the old man, Landulf, burst into tears, and, embracing his son, bade him follow at liberty the inspirations of his charity.

His parents determined to send S. Thomas to the University of Naples, which was then at the height of its prosperity. Tasti states that he commenced the study of theology under the profound Erasmus, the Benedictine professor of that science in the University. Tocco states, however, that the abbot of Monte Cassino advised his removal from Monte Cassino, and his being placed at the University of Naples, where he studied grammar and logic under Martin, and natural science under Peter de Hibernia.

It was the custom for the students, after the professor had delivered his lecture, to present themselves at a stated time, and deliver what they had heard before their companions in the schools. When it came to S. Thomas's turn, he repeated the lectures with greater depth of thought, and greater lucidity of method, than the learned professor himself was able to command.

A youth, who was a more brilliant expositor of truth than its professors, would surely, during his stay in the gay centre of Southern Italy, have observed with interest the various phases of the period in which he lived; he must have felt, too, that an organized power alone could meet the world. He saw what an immense power monasticism had been in the age which was passing away. But he also perceived that the world had changed. The efforts of the solitaries and contemplatives had not been able to direct its course. Citeaux and Clairvaux had done a work indeed, but it was not the work of directing the stream of human thought. They had not perceptibly affected the world. The old methods seemed to have dropped out of use. Discovery, and travel, and enterprise excited the imagination of the men of that age; they loved activity better than meditation. They congregated in towns, and the teaching of the monastery gave way to the excitement and uproar of university life.

What then? Thomas would ask himself, is the instrument, or the organization adapted to oppose the powers of the world?

The Order of S. Francis, and that of S. Dominic, were created by the Church for resisting the mighty pressure. The former, in its characteristics of poverty and love, the latter, in its specialities of eloquence and learning, were designed to manifest the perfection of Christianity in a world full of the pomp of riches and the maddening influences of pantheistic mysticism. These two Orders had chairs at Naples. Probably young Aquino was struck by the devotedness and ability of the Dominican professors. The special scope of the Order, its love for learning, its active ministrations to humanity, while still retaining the self-restraint of solitaries, and the humility of monks, must have struck a new chord, or an old chord in a new fashion, in the heart of the saint. Anyhow, he soon became intimate with the Fathers of the Order, and especially with his dear friend, John à Sancto Facundo.

In the end, S. Thomas, who was then either sixteen or seventeen years old, petitioned for the habit of S. Dominic. The fathers determined to put his perseverance to the proof. They required him to make the demand in public. On the day appointed, from a very early hour, the church was flooded by a great crowd, amongst which might be observed persons of the highest distinction in the city. The religious of the house ranged themselves in the choir. Thomas advanced into the midst of these two clouds of witnesses, and received from the Superior, Fra Tomaso d'Agni di Lentino, the badges of penance and subjection. When S. Thomas entered the order, John of Germany was general (1239-1254), and a constellation of famous men shone with a steady light from the Corona Fratrum. In Germany there was Albertus Magnus. Hugh of S. Caro edified all France by his sanctity; and Peter of Verona, and John of Vicenza, were its ornaments in Italy.

It may be imagined that Theodora was not pleased when she heard of the ceremony from the lamentations of some of her vassals, who had seen the young count dressed up as a Dominican friar. She forthwith hastened to Naples with a large retinue. No sooner did the Dominicans learn that she was on her way, than they hurried the boy off,--some say at his own request--with several companions, to Rome, by a different route from that usually followed by travellers.

Theodora speedily followed him to Rome. In vain she tried to obtain a sight of him by entreaties the most imploring, and by threats the most indignant. She then bewailed her hard lot amongst the Roman nobility, and denounced to the pope the rapacity of the friars, who had robbed her of her boy.

The Dominicans, dreading her influence in the city, sent S. Thomas to Paris. Theodora, hearing of his departure, sent off a courier to his two brothers, who were ravaging Lombardy with a band of Frederick's soldiers, beseeching them to secure the fugitive. They set guards to watch the passes through which the Dominicans could escape. As the friars lay resting under a tree, near Acquapendente, they were surrounded by armed men, and Thomas found himself a prisoner in the hands of his brothers. The two young soldiers behaved with great brutality to the saint, and forcing him on horseback, they carried him to San Giovanni.

His mother made use of every argument she could invent to turn him from his purpose; she brought into play all the passions of her nature, her tears, her entreaties, her threats, her love; but without effect. Perceiving that he remained unmoveable, she threw him into prison, and set guards to watch outside. His sisters seconded their mother; they alone were allowed to wait on him, and they practised all their arts to turn him from his vocation. But in the end, his calm deportment, his resignation and tenderness, won them over. They put him in a position to communicate with the brethren. The saint procured a Bible, the Book of the "Sentences," and some of the works of Aristotle, and learned them by heart. Thus it was that he prepared himself for his mighty labours in the future.

His brothers persevered in their attempts to force him from religion. They were furious when they found that, far from being changed himself, Thomas had converted both his sisters. They forbade the girls to approach him; and bursting in upon him, insulted him with brutal jests, and ended by tearing his habit, piece by piece, from off his back. Then Brother John of S. Giuliano brought another habit for him from Naples, which he had concealed beneath his own. This made his brothers more enraged than before. They formed the infamous expedient of hiring a prostitute, and shutting her up in the cell with Thomas. While waiting the issue, a fearful shriek proceeding from the prison, summoned the two brothers; they arrived in time to see the girl rushing away in an agony of terror, and the young man chasing her with a blazing brand, which he had plucked out of the fire. Even the brutality of the young soldiers was overcome by this; and from that day forth, they ceased their persecutions.

Before his death, the saint told his familiar friend, Rainald, that no sooner had the girl been driven out, than he made a cross with the charred brand upon the wall, and casting himself upon his knees before it, made a vow of chastity for life. Whilst thus praying, he fell into a calm sleep, and was vouchsafed a vision. He saw angels descending from the clouds, who bound his loins with the girdle of continence, and armed him for life as the warrior of Heaven. This girdle is said to have been given after his death to the Dominicans of Vercelli, who refused to part with it at the command of a pope.

Still his relations kept him in confinement, some say for two years, and would have detained him longer, had it not been for the influence of the Dominicans with the pope. The holy father was roused. He not only brought the case before the emperor, but he ordered him to set the prisoner free, and threatened to visit the perpetrators of the outrage with condign punishment. Frederick, having latterly been humiliated by the _Viterbesi_, and having, in consequence, been abandoned by some of his supporters, was not sorry for an opportunity of gratifying the pontiff. Orders were at once sent to Landolf and Rainald to set the captive free. Still these stubborn soldiers with their haughty mother would take no active steps to give Thomas his liberty. However, his sisters informed John of S. Giuliano of the position of affairs, and he at once hurried to the castle accompanied by one or two companions. And finally, the girls let their brother down, through the window, like another S. Paul, into the hands of his delighted brethren below, who at once hurried him off to Naples.

Tocco says that John of S. Giuliano, others that Tomaso d'Agni di Lentino, was Superior of the Convent, and received our saint's profession. Theodora, repenting that she had let him escape, applied to the pope to annul his vows. The holy father sent for S. Thomas, and questioned him in the presence of the court. He, with his natural modesty, and yet with gentle firmness, told the pope how unmistakeable was the voice which had called him to religion, and implored the holy father to protect him. Innocent, and the prelates about him, could not suppress their emotion. The pope acted with great benevolence. Knowing Theodora's weakness, he proposed to make Thomas abbot of Monte Cassino, whilst still allowing him to wear the habit of S. Dominic, and to partake of the privileges of the friars. His mother and his brothers implored Thomas to accept the tempting offering. But he was inexorable. He besought the pope to leave him to abide in his vocation. Thenceforward his mother no longer worried him, and his brothers left him alone to pursue his own course.

From the first, the Dominicans seem to have had a kind of fore-knowledge of the great combat that would have to be waged in the arena of human reason. From the first, with prudence, forethought, and wise economy, they prepared a system for turning the abilities of their members to the fullest account. With them no intellect was lost. Power was recognised, trained, and put in motion. Those who were less gifted, were set to less intellectual employments: those who had great powers were fitted to become lights of the world and ornaments of the Order. With such an intellectual capital as our saint possessed, he might fairly have been set to work in the active ministrations of his Order. But, fortunately, his superiors were men who looked into the future, and knew how a present sacrifice would be repaid. Thus, instead of looking on S. Thomas's education as finished, they considered it as only just begun. Who was to be his master to ripen his active mind?

This question John of Germany, 4th General of the Dominicans, must have asked himself. At last he set out with S. Thomas on foot, from Rome to Paris, and from Paris to Cologne, where Albertus Magnus then was. It is related that as they descried the beauty of Paris in the distance, the general turned to Thomas and said, "What would you give to be king of that city?" "I would rather have S. Chrysostom's treatise on S. Matthew," replied the young man, "than be king of the whole of France."

S. Thomas met his match in Albertus Magnus. Nothing is a greater blessing for a master-mind than to come in contact with another master-mind, more highly educated, and with a more matured experience than itself. Albert was born of noble family at Lavingen, in Suabia, (1193 A.D.) Some say that, like S. Isidore, he was dull as a boy. At Padua, where he was studying medicine and mathematics, he was drawn by Brother Jordan's eloquence to join the Dominicans. He was sent to Bologna, then the second centre of the intellectual world. Next he began to teach. As a lecturer he was unrivalled: all classes thronged into the hall of this extraordinary man. The logic, ethics, and physics of Aristotle, and portions of Holy Writ, were the subject matter of his lectures. After settling at Cologne, he was summoned to Paris in 1228, to put the studies on a footing to meet the requirements of the age. Then he returned to Cologne. It was at this period that he first met S. Thomas, who became his favourite disciple, and to whom, in private, he opened the stores of his capacious mind.

The companions of S. Thomas in Albert's school, were men filled with the impression that to exert the reasoning faculties in debating scholastic questions, was one of the principal ends of all philosophy. It is not extraordinary that such men as these, when they saw young Aquino so silent, should imagine that nothing occupied his thoughts; especially when they perceived that he was equally reserved in school. They soon came to the conclusion that he was a naturally obtuse lad. What is more strange is this,--that Albert at first held him to be deficient. He was called by master and pupils, "the great dumb Sicilian ox." Once, when studying in his cell, he heard a voice crying to him, "Brother Thomas, here! quick, look at this flying ox!" When S. Thomas went to the window, he was received with shouts of derision. In explanation he said incisively: "I did not believe an ox could fly, nor did I, till now, believe that a religious could tell a lie."

A companion one day offered to assist him in his lesson. S. Thomas assented; presently his friend came to a hard passage, which was beyond his depth, the saint took the book from him, and explained the passage with great clearness. Albert had selected a difficult question from the writings of Dionysius the Areopagite; this the scholars passed to S. Thomas; he took it to his cell; and first stating all the objections that could be made against it, he then answered them. A brother picked up this paper, and carried it to Albert. His master ordered him to defend a thesis the next day before the whole school. Thomas spoke with such clearness, established his thesis with such dialectical skill, saw so far into the difficulties of the case, and handled the whole subject in so masterly a manner, that Albert exclaimed, "Thou seemest to me not to be defending the case, but to be deciding it." "Master," he replied, "I know not how to treat the question otherwise." Albert, to test him further, started objections, but Thomas solved every difficulty so successfully, that Albert cried out, "We call this youth 'Dumb Ox,' but the day will come when the whole world will resound with his bellowing."

In 1245, it was determined by the Dominican Chapter that Albert should leave Cologne for Paris, and that Thomas should finish his three years under him there.

The one absorbing science of the middle ages was theology. Learning, in all its branches, pointed to the study of religion as the great terminus of the human mind, and the one right road from heaven to earth. The liberal arts were but a careful and laborious preparation for philosophy or logic; logic, in turn, was only valuable inasmuch as it was an instrument for the ordering, defending, and proving the great truths of revelation. The great object of life was to know God. Jacques de Vitry beautifully says, "All science ought to be referred to the knowledge of Christ." It may be laid down roughly that the Scriptures, Peter Lombard's Book of Sentences, and Aristotle, were the three great bases on which the active intellect of the 13th century rested in its development and analysis of truth.

The students of the Paris University may be divided into three classes: those who lived in seminaries, those who lived in monasteries, and those who lived as best they could. Some were destitute, living on charity, or in _hospitia_; others were rich and lordly, great spendthrifts and swaggerers, studying out of mere curiosity, or pure conceit.

John of S. Alban had founded a _hospitium_ for pilgrims, with a chapel dedicated to S. James; this he handed over to the Dominicans, which gift the University confirmed on condition that mass was said for its living and dead members twice a year. Thus the Dominicans came in contact with the University. From the first they attended the theological schools of the Church of Paris. S. Louis built them a convent, and at his death left them a part of the library he had collected at the Sainte Chapelle. Novices were taught Latin and logic; and disputations echoed in the cloister. Meditation was made to counterbalance the excitement of study.

The lectures were given in large halls. In the middle stood the chair of the master, with another seat below, and in front of him a stool for the bachelor who was going through his training. If there was not room on the benches, the students sat on the straw which covered the floor. The teaching was principally done by question and answer, by exposition, repetition, and disputation. No book was used, the teacher might have the text before him, and sometimes the students took notes in shorthand, which they wrote out at their leisure.

Nothing has been handed down, of any moment, regarding the studies of S. Thomas at Paris during this period. Albert was at the height of his reputation. His lecture-hall was so crowded, that he was forced to lecture in a square, near Notre Dame, known as the Place Maubert.

The same year in which S. Thomas finished his studies (1248), a general chapter of Dominicans was held at Paris. Here it was ruled that four new schools should be started on the model of that at Paris. Bologna for Lombardy; Montpellier for Provence; Oxford for England; Cologne for Germany. Albert was to take the chair at Cologne, re-arrange the studies, and be regent; whilst Thomas, who was not twenty-three, was to be second professor, and "Magister Studentium." Albert's old reputation attracted crowds. Thomas was not long before he also acquired a brilliant reputation.

His distinctions, even compared with those of Albert, were so new, his arguments so ingenious, that all were dazzled at his great ability. It was at Cologne that he first gave evidence as a teacher, of that depth, balance, and expansion, which, in after life, made him the weightiest of authorities on the most momentous of religious questions. In his treatment of the Scripture and of the Sentences, he had ample opportunity for displaying his many-sided gifts.

Nor did he confine himself to teaching in the schools. He preached and wrote. His first pieces were "De Ente et Essentia," and "De Principiis Naturæ." These two works contain the germ of a future system, and were remarkable productions for a youth of twenty-two.

The saint's practice in teaching, and the accuracy he acquired by writing, from an early age, were of great assistance to him in developing his powers. He possessed, moreover, a gift--most valuable at all times--calmness and self-possession, which was the result, partly of education, greatly of character; partly of breadth of mind, and chiefly of grace. Under the most trying provocation he was never known to lose his self-control.

His humility and sweetness came out strikingly when arguing in the schools. Though his opponent, in the heat of disputation, might forget himself, Thomas never did.

Once, when a young student arrogantly defended a thesis of which he knew the saint did not approve, he was suffered to proceed in silence. But the next day, when he continued his argument with still greater arrogance, the saint with infinite sweetness, but crushing power, put a few questions, made a few distinctions, and upset the student with such ease, first on one point, then on another, that the whole school was in an uproar of admiration. Both the youth and his fellows were taught a lesson which they did not easily forget. Again, while he was preaching at S. James's, an official of the University walked up the church, and beckoned the saint to stop, and then read out an offensive document, drawn up by the secular party, in opposition to the Friars' Preachers. When the congregation had somewhat recovered from their surprise, S. Thomas proceeded with his sermon with undisturbed composure.

Conrad De Guessia, his intimate friend, declared him to be: "A man of holy life and honest conversation, peaceful, sober, humble, quiet, devout, contemplative, and chaste; so mortified that he cared not what he ate or what he put on. Every day he celebrated with great devotion, or heard, one or two masses; and except in times proper for repose, he was occupied in reading, writing, praying or preaching."

"His science, says Rainald, was not acquired by natural talent, but by the revelation and the infusion of the Holy Ghost, for he never set himself to write without having first prayed and wept. When he was in doubt, he had recourse to prayer, and with tears he returned, instructed and enlightened in his uncertainty."

It was about this time that S. Thomas was ordained priest. It is mortifying that no certain information can be procured regarding the time at which it took place. All his biographers lay stress on his great devotion while celebrating. He was frequently rapt in spirit whilst at mass, when the tears would spring to his eyes, and flow copiously. After mass, he prepared his lectures, and then went to the schools. Next, he wrote or dictated to several scribes; then he dined, returned to his cell, and occupied himself with Divine things till time for rest; after which he wrote again, and thus ordered his life in the service of his Master.

The duty of preaching also fell upon him. A man so filled with the Spirit of God would, almost of necessity, manifest the passion which ruled supreme. His reputation even at this period was great enough to draw a large congregation into the Dominican Church.

The language in which at this period sermons were preached was the vernacular. Even when written in Latin, and this was generally the case, they were delivered to the people in the vernacular.

The biographers of S. Thomas speak of the simplicity of his sermons. Once, in a discourse on the Passion, during Lent, he so vividly brought home to the congregation the sufferings of the cross, and drew so touching a picture of the compassion, mercy, and love of Christ, that his words were interrupted by the passionate crying of the people. On Easter Day, his sermon on the Resurrection filled the congregation with such jubilant triumph that they could scarcely be restrained from giving public expression to their feelings.

In manner he was gentle, calm, self-possessed. Tocco says that preaching at Naples on the text, "Hail, Mary!" he was seen to keep his eyes closed in the pulpit, and his head in a position as if he were looking into heaven: he tells us also that the people reverenced his word as if it came from the mouth of God.

In the two hundred and twenty-five skeleton sermons which he has left, he divides his subject into three or four grand divisions, which are again sub-divided into three or four sections.

After four years at Cologne our saint received orders to take his degree at Paris, (1248.) The Dominicans wished to place their most promising subjects there, that the Order might maintain its credit. Albert and Cardinal Hugh of S. Charo were instrumental in his removal: the former saw that the saint possessed all the needed qualifications for a professorship; a work requiring something more than learning--tact and temper.

Thomas, when he heard of it, was much concerned. His distaste for honour and position made him wish to be left alone. Nevertheless, in obedience to authority, he set out to beg his way to Paris. He passed through Brabant and Flanders, and preached before the Duchess Margaret. The learned men of Paris had heard of his successes at Cologne, and he was received by them with marks of unusual distinction.

The Dominican professors of theology at this time were Hugh of Metz and Elias Brunetus. It was as teacher in the school of Elias that the saint began to expound Holy Writ, and the writings of Peter Lombard. His influence over young men far surpassed that of any other master. They were conscious that his teaching had something about it of another world; and the feeling crept over all, and finally mastered them, that he spoke as one "having authority." The opinions he then formed, he committed to writing, and held them and defended them with little change in his maturer years. From his youth he had dedicated himself to Wisdom as his spouse. Only one thing he asked for--that was wisdom. Rainald said, "One thing I know of him, that it was not human talent, but _prayer_, which was the secret of his great success. This was his daily prayer: 'Grant me, I beseech Thee, O merciful God, prudently to study, rightly to understand, and perfectly to fulfil that which is pleasing to Thee, to the praise and glory of Thy Name.'" When a child, if conversation did not turn on God, or on matters which tended to edification, the Angelical Doctor would go away; he used to wonder how men, especially religious men, could talk of anything but God or holy things. He wept for the sins of others, as if they had been his own.

Though ever dwelling in the unseen kingdom, he was keenly alive to the tendency of the intellectual world around him. His saintliness, and his great ability, seem to have pointed him out as destined to sway the philosophical and theological tendencies of an age in which the human mind was in a condition of flux. The corroding rationalism of the school of Abelard, and the dissolving mysticism of the East, had to be faced, and to be withstood. Thomas fixed himself, therefore, on the immoveable basis of authority, and grounded his teaching on the monastic methods of the "Sentences." Doubtless the surprise caused by his distinctions, and the admiration created by his novelty in argument, proceeded in great measure from his vivid apprehension of the work he had to do, of the enemy he was contending with, and of the powers by which alone that enemy could be overthrown. He followed Albert, but his teaching was more incisive, more definite, more strictly to the point.

Many of his disciples became distinguished men. S. Thomas assisted others beside his own pupils. Sovereigns, cardinals, bishops, superiors of orders, and professors, wrote to him for advice, and for solutions of their difficulties. The Opusculum on the difference between the Divine and human word; and the somewhat larger treatise, on the nature of the intellectual word, are full of close reasoning; and state principles which are fundamental regarding the method of human knowledge.

One of the most important of his treatises is that addressed "ad Fratrem Rainaldum," on the nature of the Angels. It was begun during his bachelorship, but he never got beyond the 30th chapter. It shows his grasp of some of the cardinal questions of the day, and how masterfully he dealt with errors of the most promising minds in the Paris schools.

But whilst thus engaged upon the Scriptures and the Lombard, S. Thomas was frequently in the pulpit, and he regularly delivered lectures to crowded halls. His versatility, his power of abstraction, his astonishing memory, his zealous husbanding of time, carried him with ease through works which would have broken the spirit of any ordinary man. He possessed that marvellous gift which Origen and Cæsar are said to have had, of being able to dictate to three or even four scribes on different and difficult subjects at the same time, and that, too, without losing the thread of each argument.

Frigerius says that, as Professor, he elucidated the Sentences with such sublimity of thought that he seemed rather the author of the work than its expositor. Tocco, "that he surpassed all the masters of the University, and by the lucidity of his expositions drew, beyond all others, the intelligences of his disciples towards a love of science." Students from every part of Europe flocked around his chair.

In touching on S. Thomas's commentary on the "Sentences," the influence of Alexander Hales must not be forgotten, but he far eclipsed the Minorite in his proofs of the non-eternity of the world--a question of momentous importance in the Middle Ages, as well as in his discussion of the possibility and fitness of the Incarnation. Thomas carried his teaching on Grace to such perfection that in the Middle Ages it was always received as a standard authority.

If judged by its bulk, this "Commentary" would seem sufficient to have occupied a life. It fills over 1250 pages of the large quarto Parma edition, printed in double columns. It is a monument of ceaseless labour, great skill, and patient thought.

The work of the Lombard is a confusion compared with the lucid style and admirable arrangement of the saint. In place of the crabbed inverted language of Peter, we have the simple, logical, direct use of words, which go straight to the point, and express the complete idea. He has these weighty words on the subject of theology, "Since the end of all philosophy is contained within the end of theology, and is subservient to it, theology ought to command all other sciences, and turn to its use those things which they treat of." He adds, "The more sublime knowledge is, so much greater is its unity, and so much wider the circle of its expansion, whence the Divine intellect, which is the most sublime of all, by the light, which is God Himself, possesses a distinct knowledge of all things." He also shows how the intellect becomes illuminated when led by faith, illustrating the motto of the monastic school, "Nisi credideritis, non intelligetis." And he shows that theology is _deduction_, and philosophy _induction_; and that the basis of theology must be authority, _i.e._, a Revelation.

During the Lent of 1250 or 1253, the city patrol came in collision with a party of students, killed one of them, wounded three others, and carried them off to prison. The secular professors of the University refused to lecture, until the beadles were punished, but the Dominican and Franciscan teachers went on with their lectures. When redress had been granted to the University for the outrage, that body drew up an oath to observe all the laws of the University, which it was intended should be taken by all persons before taking the degree as master. The regulars refused to take it; then the University issued a decree, declaring the friars excluded from its body, and deprived of their chairs. The latter appealed to Rome. The pope commissioned the bishop of Evreux, and Luke, canon of Paris, to re-establish the friars in their chairs, which was done. This pope dying, his successor issued a bull, binding all to stop teaching in case of insult, but re-establishing the friars. The king, returning home, stopped the execution of the papal briefs. The pope issued another bull more stringent than the first. Since 1256, S. Thomas had been lecturing as licentiate. At the same time he was enjoying the friendship of S. Bonaventura, who was lecturing under the Franciscan professor. Both men exhibited, in a striking manner, the fundamental quality of the order to which they respectively belonged. Bonaventura loved to look into the placid, earnest soul of Thomas, as into a deep sea, with its marvellous transparency, and awful stillness; whilst Thomas was roused and brightened by the ardent gushing nature of his friend. S. Thomas was angelical; S. Bonaventura was seraphic--the one, the deep thinker; the other, the tender poet. Thomas was famous in the schools for the keenness of his thought, and for his depth and clearness; Bonaventura for his eloquence and vivacity in exposition; the former was a child of contemplation, the latter of activity. Once S. Thomas asked S. Bonaventura to show him the books out of which he got his sublime thoughts. "There is the book," replied S. Bonaventura, pointing to the crucifix. During this time S. Thomas wrote his "Exposition on the Apostles' Creed, the Lord's Prayer, the Angelic Salutation, the Ten Commandments, and the Law of Love." Another work on the "Articles of the Faith and the Sacraments" falls within this period, as well as a commentary on Isaiah.

Meanwhile, William of S. Amour, the celebrated philosopher and doctor of the University, was endeavouring to turn the mendicant Orders out of Paris by getting people to withhold their alms, and by forbidding the members of these Orders to attend the secular lectures.

He also endeavoured to fix the authorship of an heretical work, called "The Everlasting Gospel," on the Franciscans and Dominicans.

But he himself had written a book, called "Perils of the last times." This the king sent by two doctors of theology for the pope's examination. The University sent a deputation to make the Holy Father acquainted with "The Everlasting Gospel." William was leader of this deputation. S. Thomas was sent to defend his order; S. Bonaventura that of S. Francis. S. Thomas, after examining the "Perils," reported to the Dominican chapter that "God had given him grace to discover whatever is false, captious, erroneous, impious in it, and that after the holy See had pronounced judgment on it, the faithful would only notice it to condemn it." In a few days the saint prepared his defence of the order, and his answer to the "Perils." He pleaded before the pope and sacred college with such success as to gain their applause.

When he had done, the four cardinals gave in their report on the "Perils," which stated that it was full of false doctrine, injurious to the authority of the pope and the bishops, and to the honour of several religious orders approved by the holy See. After examining the report, the pope condemned the "Perils" by a bull, dated October 5th, 1256, and ordered the book to be burnt. The deputation from the University arrived after the work of their leader had been burnt. They endeavoured to obtain a revocation of the condemnation, but, instead, they were compelled to take pen and themselves subscribe it. They swore, moreover, to receive into the body of the University the Dominicans and Franciscans, especially SS. Thomas and Bonaventura. William of S. Amour refused to comply, and being forbidden to enter France, retired to his estate in Burgundy. A few years later he was allowed to return to Paris. He died in 1270. It was partly in reply to William's attack on the religious orders, that S. Thomas wrote his Opusculum, "Against those who attack religion and the worship of God," and that "Against those who hinder men from entering religion," which are the best defence and exaltation of monastic principles ever penned.[32]

[32] For this part of the history of S. Thomas, treated at greater length, see "The Life and Labours of S. Thomas of Aquin," by the Very Rev. R. B. Vaughan.

S. Thomas having been recalled by his superiors before the winter of the same year (1256), embarked on board a ship bound for France. The vessel was overtaken by a furious storm; the pilot and sailors tried every artifice to escape the shoals, on which they were being driven by wind and wave. Thomas, like a second S. Paul, preserved his confidence, and prayed God to give him all the souls that were with him. His prayer was heard: the aspect of nature changed, and the ship pursued her course in safety.