Chapter XLVI · THE SERMON.

Stephen, prior of Cluny, entered the Pope's chamber; the Abbot Hugo had been deposed the same day by the Chapter, on account of his schismatical tendencies, and the prior had just been informed that the Count of Champagne had placed guards at all the doors of the cloister.

"The Count is much interested in our affairs," said Alexander. "You perceive how faithful he is to his master; why then should we be less so to ours? Is every thing ready for the council?"

"Your orders have been executed, Holy Father."

"I will administer the holy sacrament, and then receive the Count of Champagne. Is there anything else, my son?" asked the Pope, seeing that Stephen still waited with a restless and uneasy expression on his features.

"Holy Father, are you then decided to allow yourself to be made prisoner by these impious men?" asked the good prior, with an emotion which touched his hearer. "All the doors are guarded, but you can get out in the disguise of a monk and escape! I have prepared everything."

"Stephen," answered the Pope, in a tone of reproach, "you have been busy about many things, when there was but one important;" then, with a milder voice, he continued: "The hour is at hand, my son; take care that everything be ready."

"The hour is at hand!" repeated the prior as he withdrew; "our blessed Redeemer said those words when they came to lay hands on him. Woe is me! Cluny has become a Mount of Olives, and the Holy Father will leave it to go to prison, and perhaps to death."

As has already been observed, the church of Cluny was the largest in the world. The roof was supported by gigantic columns, measuring eight feet each in circumference; the whole building was ornamented with pictures and sculpture; a magnificent mosaic pavement covered the floor of the choir, and the walls were hung with invaluable works of art, representing the life of Jesus Christ and the Saints, and scenes from the Old Testament. Gold and silver candlesticks stood upon the altar, and in front hung a chandelier of four branches, wrought in solid silver, with lanterns studded with precious stones.

As soon as Stephen had ascertained that Alexander's orders had been carried out, he proceeded to the cloister, where the Count of Champagne and thirty men-at-arms had just entered.

Without vouchsafing a glance at the works of art around them, these advanced boldly into the very house of God, and drew up in line before the pulpit at the entrance to the chancel. With helmets on, clothed in complete mail, and their swords drawn, they resembled the horde of barbarians who had come to pursue Christ in the holy temple of God.

The moment fixed upon by Alexander was approaching. The door of the sacristy opened, and the procession entered the chancel. At the head walked the monks and lay brothers, robed in white; then came the abbots, bishops, and cardinals, in rich costumes, wearing the mitre, and with cross in hand; last of all, the Pope, in red vestments, and all the pomp of solemn ceremony.

"Red! the color of the holy martyrs," thought Stephen, as he remarked the color which had been selected by the Pontiff; "and there are the executioners!" he added, looking at the soldiers. The holy sacrifice began. The Pope, entirely absorbed in his devotions, thought of nothing which was going on around him. The prelates were kneeling upon scarlet cushions; the monks and lay brothers upon the pavement.

As soon as the office was terminated, and without laying aside his pontifical robes, the Pope entered the chancel and ascended his throne, around which were seated the cardinals, bishops, and abbots. The monks stood in line waiting, with anxious faces, for the end. About three paces in front stood a table, covered with parchments, at which two clerks were seated, in order to copy the proceedings. The men-at-arms, led by Henry of Champagne and the fierce Count of Nevers, advanced boldly towards the Pontiff.

"Sir Pope," said Henry, "we have been sent to invite you, in the name of our sovereign lord and king, to appear before an ecclesiastical council, which is to meet at an early day in Besançon. We can take no excuse, as your refusal might plunge France and Germany into a bloody war. Our king has pledged himself by oath that you will be present at the assembly, and he means to keep his word. You must, then, accept the invitation graciously, if you do not wish to compel us to resort to violence."

This harangue, so devoid of all courtesy, excited the openly expressed disapproval of the audience.

"Count of Champagne!" exclaimed the pious but impetuous Maurice, Archbishop of Paris; "you not only act contrary to all custom, but you are also wanting in the respect which you owe to the Head of the Church. How can you dare to address such words to the Vicar of Christ in the very temple of God? Would you have us to suppose that the great vassals of the French crown surpass in irreligion the slaves of the schismatic Barbarossa?"

Maurice would have continued, but Alexander III. interfered.

"My lord Count," he said, "it is not obstinacy, but duty, which dictates our refusal to this invitation. We will certainly repair to Besançon, but not as a culprit. Who convoked the assembly? Men who are forgetful of their duties, and almost without exception under the ban of ecclesiastical censure. We cannot submit our cause to any earthly tribunal, least of all to one acting only under the orders of the Emperor. Frederic has violated all laws, human and divine, in placing the Council above the Pope, and the Emperor above the Council. We rebuke this injustice, and we are ready, in the discharge of our duty, to suffer every torture, and even death itself."

Alexander paused, and then rose from his seat with an expression of such majesty upon his features that even Count William himself was impressed.

The Vicar of Jesus Christ resumed, with a calm, dignified energy which carried conviction to the minds of all.

"My dear brethren," he said, turning towards the prelates, "it is most probable that we are about to be again called to tread the road on which our Lord and Saviour has preceded us, and in which many of our predecessors have followed Him to martyrdom! Yes, the way of the Cross alone leads to victory, and to a better world! You have long known the drift of the Emperor's designs. Misled by the false glitter of Pagan Imperialism, Frederic aims at ruling over both Church and State. The Head of Christendom is for him a mere instrument of his own will, and our holy religion only a means of attaining his ends. We are amazed that such ideas should have taken possession of a prince whom God has gifted with so many noble qualities. You are aware, my brethren, that the Emperor has nominated to all the vacant Sees of his Empire, men who are unworthy of such positions, without either the learning which is indispensable, or the spirit of piety which should animate the shepherds of God's flock. And yet the Apostle has said, 'For a bishop must be without crime, not proud, not subject to anger, not given to wine, no striker, nor greedy of filthy lucre; but given to hospitality, gentle, sober, just, holy, continent.' And yet, he would make the bishops nothing but the Emperor's slaves! We feel grievously afflicted at the sight of such grave misconduct. What misfortunes are they not preparing for the Church! The ecclesiastical spirit is less and less valued every day; the liberty of the Church no longer exists except in name, and her property is at the mercy of impious hands. But in the midst of this deluge of injustice, the Holy See has been established, by divine Providence, like the rock of order, against which storms and tempests will spend their fury in vain. So, we solemnly announce to you, in the name of God, that the Cardinal Octavian, falsely styled Pope Victor, is excommunicated and put under the ban of ecclesiastical censure. We declare, in advance, all the proceedings and resolutions of the Council of Besançon to be null and void. If, until to-day, we have refrained from launching the thunders of the Church against the scourge of Christendom, it is because our Lord Jesus Christ has taught us to pardon. And, although the time for speaking has come at last, we still pardon the Emperor for all the misery and pain which he has caused us. You will repeat this discourse, my brethren, in the pulpits of all your parishes, and you will circulate it, by every possible means, in order that the Christian world may not be misled into error. As regards ourselves, we pray God ceaselessly, that he may prevent the success of the enemies of the Holy Church; may He protect her with His mighty arm! May he lead to repentance and contrition the souls which have strayed from her fold!"

"Amen, amen!" repeated the prelates.

"Amen, amen!" said the witnesses.

And the crowd throughout the Church exclaimed, "Amen!"

The Count of Champagne stood amazed. Thoroughly convinced of the justice of Alexander's claims, ambition alone had united him to the Imperial faction, and he had been impressed by the discourse of the Holy Father; for it seemed to him as though God himself had spoken.

"Holy Father," he said, "I appreciate your reasoning and the resolution with which you wish to discharge the sacred duties of your ministry. But my personal opinions have naught to do with the execution of the order which is intrusted to me. I await then, Holy Father, until it may please you to notify me of the hour which you have fixed for your departure for Laon."