Now when we consider that there was no central power in Europe at this time, that the barbaric princes were engaged in endless wars, and that a fearful gloom was settling upon everything pertaining to education and peace and order; that even the clergy were ignorant, and the people superstitious; that everything was in confusion, tending to a worse confusion, to perfect anarchy and barbaric license; that provincial councils were no longer held; that bishops and abbots were abdicating their noblest functions,—­we feel that the spiritual supremacy which Leo aimed to establish had many things to be said in its support; that his central rule was a necessity of the times, keeping civilization from utter ruin.

In the first place, what a great idea it was to preserve the unity of the Church,—­the idea of Cyprian and Augustine and all the great Fathers,—­an idea never exploded, and one which we even in these times accept, though not in the sense understood by the Roman Catholics!  We cannot conceive of the Church as established by the apostles, without recognizing the necessity of unity in doctrines and discipline.  Who in that age could conserve this unity unless it were a great spiritual monarch?  In our age books, universities, theological seminaries, the press, councils, and an enlightened clergy can see that no harm comes to the great republic which recognizes Christ as the invisible head.  Not so fifteen hundred years ago.  The idea of unity could only be realized by the exercise of sufficient power in one man to preserve the integrity of the orthodox faith, since ignorance and anarchy covered the earth with their funereal shades.

The Protestants are justly indignant in view of subsequent encroachments and tyrannies.  But these were not the fault of Leo.  Everything good in its day is likely to be perverted.  The whole history of society is the history of the perversion of institutions originally beneficent.  Take the great foundations for education and other moral and intellectual necessities, which were established in the Middle Ages by good men.  See how these are perverted and misused even in such glorious universities as Oxford and Cambridge.  See how soon the primitive institutions of apostles were changed, in order to facilitate external conquests and make the Church a dignified worldly power.  Not only are we to remember that everything good has been perverted, and ever will be, but that all governments, religious and civil, seem to be, in one sense, expediencies,—­that is, adapted to the necessities and circumstances of the times.  In the Bible there are no settled laws definitely laid down for the future government of the Church,—­certainly not for the government of States and cities.  A government which was best for the primitive Christians of the first two centuries was not adapted to the condition of the Church in the third and fourth centuries, else there would not have been bishops.  If we take a narrow-minded