(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."
[Illustration: S. THOMAS AQUINAS. After Cahier.
March 7.]
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.
Several bulls followed the deputies to Paris. The prudence and kindness
of S. Louis helped greatly to restore peace between the University and
the friars. The University seal was set to the summons addressed to
SS. Thomas and Bonaventura to take their doctor's degrees, which had
been delayed two years by the troubles. S. Thomas thought many other
Dominicans more deserving of the honour than himself. Whilst sadly
meditating on this, he thought an old man appeared to him, asking the
cause of his sadness. He replied, "It is not right that they should
force me to take rank among the doctors, a thing of which I am not
capable." The old man said, "The order thou hast received is assurance
enough; it destroys thy own will, and points to God's will in that
of thy superiors. Take as the text of thy thesis: '_He watereth the
hills from above: the earth is filled with the fruit of Thy works._
Ps. ciii. 13.'" On the morrow, after a struggle between S. Bonaventura
and himself for the last place, Thomas, as being the younger, gained
it. He preached from the text given him, and it has been regarded as
a prophecy of the influence which the new doctor was to exercise over
Christendom. The day on which he took his degree was the 23rd October,
1257.
The epoch on which we have now entered is the most glorious period
of our saint's life. The star of his genius mounted, without a cloud
to obscure it, in the firmament of the Church. In spite of all the
eulogies of his contemporaries, it is difficult for us to comprehend
now-a-days the extent of the power which Aquinas exercised over the men
and the ideas of his time.
S. Thomas now drew up his famous "Summa contra Gentiles." He begins
this treatise by stating that he will discuss all questions on the
ground of human reason, seeking therein a common ground on which to
combat his adversaries, or rather seeking in their natural intelligence
a point on which to rest that bridge which might lead them from human
reason to the truth of God; then he establishes the necessity of faith;
he shows next that reason affords ground for expecting a supernatural
revelation; lastly, he cements together reason and faith. Then he makes
his general division: he considers God in Himself, in relation to men,
and men in relation to God. To these three parts he joins a fourth,
viz., revelation properly so-called; therein he expounds the Trinity,
the Incarnation, with all the dogmas which attach themselves to it,
the whole destiny of man in the plan of Christianity. This we may call
the theological evolution of his great work. In that which may be
called its philosophical introduction he resolves all such difficult
questions; as the falsehood of pantheism, evil and its origin, its
nature, and its effects, which he turns into a proof of God's existence
in opposition to those unquiet spirits, who saw in it a reason for
doubting His existence.
This work was followed immediately by one upon all the Epistles of S.
Paul.
The question of the Eucharistic accidents was then much mooted in
the schools, especially in those of Paris. The question was, whether
those accidents had anything real, or were only an appearance, in
other words, whether the form under which Jesus hides Himself in the
Eucharist exists in the Sacrament itself, or in a false relation of the
senses? Wearied with a struggle to which they could foresee no end,
all the doctors determined to refer the question to the decision of
S. Thomas, and to accept that decision as conformable to the light of
reason and faith. The saint braced himself to the contemplation of this
subject, and having prayed, he wrote as the Spirit inspired him. He was
loth to take into the presence of the doctors and of the schools, the
fruit of his science and his prayer, before he had consulted Him of
Whom he was speaking, Whose aid he had implored.
He came to the altar, and placing before the tabernacle as before the
Master of masters, that which he had written on the subject of the
controversy, he raised his hands towards the image of Jesus crucified,
and prayed in this fashion: "O Lord Jesu, Who dost verily dwell in
this wonderful Sacrament, Whose works are incomprehensible marvels, I
humbly beseech Thee, if what I have written about Thee is agreeable to
the truth, grant that I may teach it, and persuade my brethren of it on
Thy behalf; but if, on the contrary, there be anything in this writing
which errs from the Catholic faith, make it impossible for me to bring
it before their eyes."
Now the doctor had been followed by his habitual companion and by
several other religious of our order, and they saw Jesus Christ
standing on the leaves which had been written by the hand of Thomas,
and saying to him, "Thou hast written worthily, my son, of the
Sacrament of My Body." And the doctor's prayer still continuing, he was
seen to raise himself nearly to the height of a cubit in the air.
The author who gives this account says he received it from a religious
who was at S. James's with S. Thomas. The members of the University
submitted to the decision, though given by a young man of only
thirty-two years of age.
Louis IX. had forced our saint to enter his council chamber. Whenever
an important affair was coming on for deliberation in the royal
council, the king caused brother Thomas to be instructed about it over
night, that he might reflect thereon in solitude, and might remember it
at the Sacrifice. He was consulted by the king not so much as the man
of genius, but as the man of God.
The saint, in spite of his earnest entreaties to be excused, was
sometimes compelled, both by loyalty and courtesy, to appear at the
royal table. For a while he would join in the general conversation,
soon to be withdrawn by his inward thoughts. Once, at dinner, after
a long silence, he smote the table smartly, exclaiming, "That is an
overwhelming argument against the Manichæans." His superior bade him
remember that he was in the king's presence. Thomas apologised for his
absence of mind. But the king, smiling, requested him to dictate to one
of his secretaries the argument which had engrossed his attention, that
it might lose none of the force which marks the thoughts of genius at
their first conception.
The Dominican Chapter, held at Valenciennes, in 1259, appointed Thomas,
Albertus Magnus, and Pierre de Tarentaise as a commission to establish
order and uniformity in all schools of the Dominicans.
Alexander IV. died at Viterbo, on May 25th, 1261. Jacques Pantalèon,
Latin patriarch of Jerusalem, who was at Viterbo imploring protection
for the Christians of the East, was, to his surprise, raised to the
pontifical throne, under the title of Urban IV. Wishing to unite into
one the divided portions of east and west Christianity, he summoned
S. Thomas to Rome to help him in realising his project. It was in the
same year that S. Thomas came to Rome in answer to this appeal. His
general gave him at once a chair of theology in the Dominican college
at Rome, where he obtained the like success that had gained at Cologne
and Paris. Here he wrote his literal commentary on Job, and the Catena
Aurea. The chain of comments from the fathers is so perfect, the links
of gold in it are so well rivetted to one another, that a biographer
says that, "He speaks with all, and all speak and explain themselves by
him." It was dedicated to the Pope, at whose solicitation it had been
undertaken.
In the midst of the toil these works must have cost him, he did not
forget the purpose for which he was summoned. All the time he was
thinking out and penning his treatise, "Contra errores Græcorum." In
his hands, and by the force of his irresistible logic, he showed that
the ancient Greek fathers unanimously agreed with those of the Latin
Church.[33]
[33] It is necessary to point out here that S. Thomas was misled by
forgeries in this treatise. A Latin theologian, who had resided among
the Greeks, composed a catena of spurious passages of Greek Councils
and Fathers, and in 1261 it was laid before Urban IV., who, entirely
deceived thereby, sent it to S. Thomas, who also accepted it without
the least suspicion of its not being genuine.
This work was sent by the pope at once to Michael, emperor of
Constantinople, as a message of peace. He had just returned to his
capital, which Latin princes had held for more than half a century. The
object of all his efforts was to reconstitute the power of the empire.
To this task he brought an energy, a perseverance, and talents hitherto
unknown among the sovereigns of that nation. He turned his eyes for
help towards the pope; but it was the politician, rather than the
Christian, that solicited the re-establishment of Catholic unity.
S. Thomas, at the request of an Eastern prince, wrote a treatise in
refutation of the errors that were rife in that part of the world.
Nothing could be more modest than the way in which he stated his
purpose, nothing more grand than the way in which he worked it out.
Urban wished to reward his distinguished services. The great wealth he
offered, the saint directed should be given to the poor. He declined
the offer of the patriarchate of Jerusalem, and, shortly after, the
honour of a cardinal's hat, for Thomas had thoroughly realized both
the mysterious treasures of voluntary poverty and the hidden force of
evangelical humility.
The pope, finding he could not attach our saint to his court by the
ties of honours or riches, bade him lecture at the various places where
he took up his abode, Viterbo, Orvieto, Perugia, Fondi. Everywhere a
prodigious number of pupils pressed around his chair. The churches were
too small to receive the numbers who flocked to hear him. Historians
only record one course of Lent sermons preached by him in Rome.
One Christmas-eve he held a disputation with two Jewish Rabbis at the
villa of a cardinal. After asking them to return in the morning, he
passed the whole night in meditation and prayer. The Rabbis returned in
the morning, but it was to ask for baptism.
In 1263, Thomas was sent to the Dominican general chapter, held in
London, as "definitor," in the name of the Roman province.
Soon after his return to Italy, S. Thomas proposed to Urban the
institution of a special festival throughout the Catholic Church in
honour of the Holy Sacrament. When Urban was archdeacon of Liége, in
the convent of Mont Cornillon, near one of the gates of the city, a
poor religious named Juliana (April 3rd), as she prayed had a vision
of the moon shining in all its splendour, but disfigured by one little
breach. She desired to know its meaning, and an inner voice told her
it was the Church, and that the breach represented the defect of a
festival in honour of the Blessed Sacrament. After a time, an office
in honour of the Blessed Sacrament was drawn up by a young religious.
Robert de Torote, bishop of Liége, in 1246, appointed Thursday, in the
octave of Trinity, for this feast.
Henry of Gueldres succeeded him as bishop, and treated the revelations
of Juliana as folly. She died on 5th April, 1258, and left as a legacy
to her friend Eve the duty of reviving this festival. Eve was a recluse
built up in a niche of a wall near the church of S. Martin, at Liége,
and through the hole by which she received light, air, and alms,
besought the canons as they passed to seek out the bishop and entreat
him to write to the pope on the subject of the proposed festival. The
bishop did not disdain this humble prayer, but transmitted her message
to the pope, who received at the same time the petition of the first
doctor in the Church to the same effect. He wrote a letter to the poor
recluse of S. Martin, in 1264, telling her of the issuing of a bull in
answer to her prayer, and transmitting a copy of the office which the
Angelical doctor had drawn up.
Clement IV. succeeded Urban on the 22nd of February, 1265. Shortly
after his elevation he issued a bull appointing S. Thomas archbishop of
Naples, and conferring on him the revenues of the convent of S. Peter
ad Aram. But the pope was induced to recall it by the prayers and tears
of our saint.
In this year we must place the first commencement of the "Summa
Theologiæ." This was the greatest monument produced by that age.
Disgusted, as S. Thomas says in his preface, at the exuberance, the
disorder, the obscurity of the scholastic treatises then extant, he had
conceived the plan of a methodical and luminous summary, which should
contain the whole of Christianity from the existence of God to the
least precept of morality, all the speculative and practical points of
revealed truth following in natural and logical order.
The saying current at the time, that "some proposition was true
according to the master, Aristotle, but false according to the Gospel,"
clearly shows the antagonistic attitude occupied by the two powers in
the opinion of the schools.
The "Summa Theologiæ" is divided into three great but unequal parts;
for the second, much larger than the other two, is divided into two
distinct sections.
The first part is a complete treatise on all existences, and
especially on all intellectual existences, from that intelligence which
is infinite in its nature as in its operations, to the intelligence
which is bounded and severed by matter. It treats of God, of the Holy
Angels, their qualities, and their abode, and of the Creation.
The first section of the second part contains a theory of man. It
treats of happiness, as man's final object, of the passions, and of
human acts, of the virtues in general, of sins, in their origin,
nature, and effects.
The second section is closely allied to the first. It treats of the
conditions of happiness and the moral laws, the three great virtues,
Faith, Hope, and Charity. The impulse given to the soul by these three
theological virtues communicates itself to the moral virtues as well;
in treating of them afresh S. Thomas forms a universal theory of human
duty.
The third part expounds the whole plan of Redemption. After having
studied the work of Redemption in itself, S. Thomas studies it in its
application to each individual. Thus he arrives at the theory of the
Sacraments. But death did not give him time to finish this part of the
work. It is interrupted where he treats on the fourth Sacrament, that
of penance. An attempt has been made to complete it by various extracts
from his other works, but one misses in this compilation the living
hand of genius.
Before quitting this great subject, one word must be added on S.
Thomas's method. It may be defined as geometry applied to theology. S.
Thomas states, first of all, the theorem he is about to develop, or the
problem which he proposes to solve. Then he considers the difficulties
and solves them. He follows this up with a train of sustentations
drawn from holy writ, tradition, and theological reason, and he ends
by a categorical answer to all the objections which were made at the
beginning. This order is invariably observed in every part of the work.
At the Council of Trent, on a table set in the midst of the council
chamber, was placed the "Summa," alongside of the Holy Scriptures and
the decrees of the popes. Well might Dante declare that the doctor
inhabits a sphere above the reach of praise, or, with Lacordaire,
exclaim, that "God alone can praise this great man in the eternal
council of the Saints."
The "Summa Theologiæ" occupied the last nine years of our saint's
life. The world was ignorant of the monument which was being raised in
silence. Thomas preached, lectured, wrote as before.
About this time William of S. Amour republished his attack upon the
religious orders, under the fresh title of "Collectiones S. Scripturæ;"
our saint replied to it by issuing a fresh edition of his defence of
the religious orders, and this silenced his foe.
During these nine years, Thomas visited several towns and convents of
Italy. At Milan he wrote an epitaph on S. Peter Martyr. At Bologna he
lectured with his usual success on theology.
In 1267, he published at Bologna a work on the duties of kings, but his
task was interrupted in the same year by the death of his royal pupil,
Hugo II., king of Cyprus.
Jean de Verceil had just sent to Thomas a famous tract in which the
efficaciousness of the sacrament of penance was denied. He refuted it
in a treatise called "De forma Absolutionis," with so much force and
clearness that the Council of Trent adopted his very words in framing
their canon.
About this time he was one day walking in the cloister of the convent
at Bologna, plunged in deep meditation, when a lay brother, who did
not know him, came up to him and said that he was obliged to go out on
some matters of business, and that the superior had given him leave to
take with him the first religious he met. S. Thomas, without excusing
himself on the score of lameness from which he was then suffering, or
of more serious engagements, went cheerfully with the lay brother;
but the latter walked so fast, that Thomas was often left behind. But
he was soon recognised, and the escort of citizens who respectfully
followed the saint, opened the eyes of the lay brother. When they
returned to the convent, the lay brother threw himself at the feet
of Thomas and begged his pardon. Thomas raised him from the ground,
saying, "It is not your duty, but mine to make an apology; for I ought
to have remembered that my sore leg would not let me walk as fast as
you wanted."
In 1269, Thomas was summoned to Paris, as "definitor" of the Roman
province, to attend the general chapter of his order. S. Thomas
prolonged his last sojourn in Paris for a year after the departure of
S. Louis on his ill-fated crusade, in 1270, and during the whole time
he continued to lecture, and to write his Summa.
S. Thomas was recalled to Bologna by his superiors early in 1271.
Shortly after his return thither, he brought the second part of his
Summa to a conclusion.
At the beginning of the year 1272, the chapter general of the order
received requests from nearly all the universities of Europe that S.
Thomas might lecture in them. The decision was in favour of Naples,
for which he started at once. He visited Rome on his way, and there he
began the last part of the Summa, and wrote his commentaries on several
books of Boetius. Whilst he was explaining that book which treats of
the Trinity, the candle which he held to light him, burnt down between
his fingers, and scorched them severely, before his attention was
aroused from his work.
After leaving Rome, Thomas and his inseparable friend Rainald were
entertained at the villa of Cardinal Richard, where the two Rabbis
were converted. Here Thomas fell ill, but the attack was slight, and
quickly passed away.
In spite of all the precautions of Christian humility, his entry into
Naples was a triumph. All classes, the lettered and the unlettered, the
great and the small, hurried to welcome him. An excited yet respectful
crowd accompanied him as far as the gates of that Dominican convent,
where he had embraced religion. What would Theodora have said if she
had seen her son entering in triumph that same house which she had
regarded as the tomb of his glory?
The king, Charles I., assigned him a monthly pension, rather as a token
of his royal favour, than as a reward for his services. The pilgrim
who visits the Dominican convent at Naples, sees at the entrance
of the great hall a representation of S. Thomas, and beneath it an
inscription, "Before thou enterest, venerate this image and this chair,
from which Thomas Aquinas uttered his oracles to a large number of
disciples for the glory and felicity of his age."
The cardinal-legate of the holy see, wished to have an interview with
our saint, and invited the archbishop of Capua, an old pupil of S.
Thomas, to accompany him. The saint on being told of their arrival,
went down into the cloister, but happening to be absorbed in thought,
he forgot the object for which he had been summoned, and gravely
continued his walk without taking any notice of them. The cardinal
was offended, but the archbishop explained the cause of the saint's
apparent rudeness. When Thomas woke from his reverie, he apologised,
laying the blame on his feebleness of mind, which had not allowed him
to find the solution of a theological difficulty without trouble and
delay. The cardinal-legate withdrew, not knowing which to admire most,
the learning, or the humility, of the doctor.
During the short space of a year and a half S. Thomas composed the 549
articles, which are all that we have of the last part of his Summa.
Some commentaries on divers passages of Holy Writ came from his pen at
the same time. The fleeting elements of this world faded gradually from
his thoughts; his eye was fixed on other horizons.
The transports which he had always experienced in prayer, became daily
more frequent.
Yielding to the entreaties of his friends, to the vow of obedience
which he had taken, contrary to the inclination to which his natural
humility led him, he revealed some of the supernatural favours which
Heaven had vouchsafed to him.
Whilst praying in the church at Naples one day, we are told that
Romanus, whom he had left in Paris as master of theology, stood before
him. S. Thomas approached his friend and said, "Welcome here, when
didst thou come?" "I have passed from this life," replied the figure,
"and am permitted to appear on thine account." The Angelical exclaimed,
"I adjure thee then to answer me these questions. How do I stand? Are
my works pleasing to God?" "Thou art in a good state, and thy works do
please God," was the reply. "Then what about thyself?" enquired the
Angelical. "I am now in Eternal Bliss, but I have been in Purgatory."
"Tell me," continued Thomas, "whether the habits which are acquired
in this life remain to us in heaven?" "Brother Thomas," was the
reply, "I see God, and do not ask for more." "How dost thou see God,"
rejoined the saint, "dost thou see Him immediately, or by means of some
similitude?" The other answered, "Like as we have heard, so have we
seen in the city of the Lord of Hosts," Ps. xlvii. 9, (xlviii. 8,) and
then instantly vanished.
While Thomas was writing his articles on the fourth Sacrament, he was
praying one day in a chapel dedicated to S. Nicolas, when, as the story
goes, the figure on the crucifix turned towards him and said, "Thomas,
Thou hast written well of Me; what reward desirest thou?" "Nought,
save Thyself, Lord," was the saint's spontaneous reply.
At length he became so absorbed in Divine things, that even the "Summa"
itself failed to interest him. He ceased to write, after a marvellous
rapture which seized him whilst celebrating mass in the chapel of S.
Nicolas. After this mass, he did not sit down to his desk, nor would
he consent to dictate anything. When Rainald urged him to finish the
"Summa," he replied, "I cannot, for everything that I have written
appears to me worthless compared with what I have seen, and what has
been revealed to me."
Gregory X. wishing to carry out the union of the Greek and Latin
churches, summoned S. Thomas, by special bull, to the Second Council of
Lyons, and requested him to bring his famous treatise with him.
Our saint set out with Rainald for Lyons, towards the end of January,
1274. His health was feeble, and his mind was still fixed on the
visions of another world. They travelled by way of the Campagna, and
called at the castle of Maienza, in the diocese of Terracina, where
Frances, wife of Hannibal Ceccano, niece of the Angelic Doctor,
resided. Here the saint became much weaker, and did not rally. He
wholly lost his appetite. After a while he felt himself a little
stronger. The rumour of his proximity reached the Benedictine Abbey of
Fossa Nuova, six miles from the castle. The monks came to invite him
thither, and he gladly accepted the invitation, saying, "If the Lord
means to take me away, it were better that I should die in a religious
house, than in the midst of seculars."
He rode in their midst to the abbey; the monks helped him to dismount,
and sustained him to the Church, where he knelt in silent adoration.
Then rising, the abbot conducted him through the church into the
cloister. Then the whole past seemed to break in upon him like a burst
of overpowering sunlight; the calm abbey, the meditative corridor,
the gentle Benedictine monks, recalled to him Monte Cassino, as in
his boyish days. Completely overcome by the memories of the past, he
turned to the monks accompanying him, and exclaimed, "_This_ is the
place where I shall find repose;" and to Rainald he said, "This shall
be my rest for ever and ever: here will I dwell, for I have a delight
therein." (Ps. cxxxi. 14, A.V., cxxxii. 15.)
His fever increasing, he was conducted to the abbot's cell, which
out of respect had been prepared for him. Here, during the whole of
his illness, which lasted about a month, the community watched over
him with the tenderness and reverence of sons towards a father. They
excluded all servants from waiting on him; even the wood to make his
fire was cut down in the forest by the hands of the brethren, and
borne on their willing shoulders to his hearth. They were overjoyed to
receive him into their home, and to minister to him of their choicest
and best. He, patient as a child, knew that he was amongst his own, and
yearned continually for his release, repeating continually the words
of S. Augustine: "So long as in me there is ought which is not wholly
Thine, O God, suffering and sorrow will be my lot. But when I shall
be Thine alone, then shall I be filled with Thee, and wholly set at
liberty."
Knowing how illumined this man of God was, concerning the union of the
soul with its Beloved, the monks, notwithstanding his feeble condition,
could not refrain from asking him to expound to them the Canticle of
canticles. Ever since his great vision, the saint had put aside his
pen. Still the monks implored him, reminding how blessed Bernard had
done the like. The Angelical Doctor looked at them with unutterable
gentleness, and said, "Get me Bernard's spirit, and I will do your
bidding." Finally he yielded to them, and surrounding the bed on which
he lay, they heard from the lips of the dying theologian, his last
lecture and sermon.
Growing still weaker, S. Thomas foresaw that his hour was drawing
nigh. He sent for Rainald, and with deep contrition and many sighs
made a general confession. Having done this, he begged the brethren to
bring him the Body of our Lord--that Lord, who from his infancy, had
been the mainstay of his life, and the one desire of his heart. The
abbot, accompanied by his community, came solemnly bearing the Blessed
Sacrament. Immediately the great Angelical perceived his Master's
presence, with the help of the brethren, he rose from the pallet, and
kneeling upon the floor, adored his King and Saviour; and amidst the
sobs of the monks, he made his act of faith in the Real Presence of
his Lord. When he had made an end, and the abbot was on the point of
administering the Saving Host to him, he exclaimed, in the hearing of
all the monks: "I receive Thee, the price of my soul's redemption,
for love of Whom I have studied, watched, and laboured. Thee have I
preached, Thee have I taught, against Thee never have I breathed a
word, neither am I wedded to my own opinion. If I have held ought
which is untrue regarding this blessed Sacrament, I subject it to the
judgment of the Holy Roman Church, in whose obedience I now pass out
of life." Then, as the abbot lifted up the spotless Host to administer
to him, with a torrent of tears he uttered his favourite ejaculation:
"Thou, O Christ, art the King of Glory: Thou art the everlasting Son
of the Father!" and received upon his tongue the Bread of Heaven. As
the end was approaching, the abbot with the brethren watched about his
bed; and those senses, which had served their Master with such generous
loyalty, were one by one anointed with sacred unction by loving
Benedictine hands at his request, whilst he, quite conscious of what
was going on, answered "Amen" to the prayers of the minister of God.
The brethren, with untold tenderness and reverence, followed his
countenance with their eyes, and watched life gradually ebbing away.
He was taken from exile in the early morning of the 7th of March, 1274,
in the prime of manhood, being scarcely forty-eight years of age.
The religious of Fossa Nuova committed all that was mortal of S. Thomas
to its resting place with the honour due to the remains of such a
saint, and such a genius. The whole country side followed him mourning.
The superior of the convent, a blind old man, was led to the side of
the corpse to pay it a last tribute of respect. Seized with a sudden
impulse of faith, he placed his sightless eyes to those of our saint,
and the blind eyes of the dead restored the vision of the living monk.
Rainald with tears, and choked with emotion, pronounced a funeral elegy
over his master and friend, before he was laid at rest in the convent
church. Many other miracles were wrought by his body.
On Sunday, Jan. 28th, 1369, his relics were deposited with great pomp
at Toulouse, where they still repose in the Church of S. Sernan.
The king, Charles V., wished his arm to be brought to Paris, and he
received it on his knees in the chapel royal, which he had built for it
at S. James's convent. This relic was at the French Revolution taken to
Italy.
March 8.
S. PONTIUS, _D. at Carthage, circ._ A.D. 262.
SS. PHILEMON AND APOLLONIUS, _MM. at Antinoe, in Egypt_, A.D. 305.
SS. CYRIL, _B.M._, ROGATUS, FELIX, AND OTHERS, _MM. in Africa_.
S. QUINTILLUS, _B.M. at Nicomedia_.
S. SENAN, _of Iniscatthy, B. Ab. in Ireland, circ._ A.D. 546.
S. FELIX, _B. among the East Saxons_, A.D. 654.
S. JULIAN, _B. of Toledo_, A.D. 690.
S. THEOPHYLACT, _B.C. at Nicomedia_, A.D. 845.
S. HUMPHREY, _B. of Therouane_, A.D. 871.
S. DUTHAC, _B. of Ross_, A.D. 1250.
S. JOHN OF GOD, _C. at Granada_, A.D. 1550.