and forged his weapons and gathered together his forces.  Nor would he waste time by idle negotiations; it was necessary to act with promptness and vigor.  No matter how great the danger; no matter how powerful his enemies.  The Church was in peril; and he resolved to come to the rescue, cost what it might.  What was his life compared with the sale of God’s heritage?  For what was he placed in the most exalted post of the Church, if not to defend her in an alarming crisis?’

In resolving to separate forever the spiritual from the temporal power, Hildebrand followed in the footsteps of Ambrose.  But he had also deeper designs.  He resolved to raise, if possible, the spiritual above the temporal power.  Kings should be subject to the Church, not the Church to the kings of the earth.  He believed that he was the appointed vicar of the Almighty to rule the world in peace, on the principles of eternal love; that Christ had established a new theocracy, and had delegated his power to the Apostle Peter, which had descended to the Pope as the Apostle’s legitimate successor.

I say nothing here of this monstrous claim, of this ingenious falsehood, on which the monarchical power of the Papacy rests.  It is the great fraud of the Middle Ages.  And yet, but for this theocratic idea, it is difficult to see how the external unity of the Church could have been preserved among the semi-barbarians of Europe.  And what a necessary thing it was—­in ages of superstition, ignorance, and anarchy—­to preserve the unity of the Church, to establish a spiritual power which should awe and control barbaric princes!  There are two sides to the supremacy of the popes as head of the Church, when we consider the aspect and state of society in those iron and lawless times.  Would Providence have permitted such a power to rule for a thousand years had it not been a necessity?  At any rate, this is too complicated a question for me to discuss.  It is enough for me to describe the conflict for principles, not to attempt to settle them.  In this matter I am not a partisan, but a painter.  I seek to describe a battle, not to defend either this cause or that.  I have my opinions, but this is no place to present them.  I seek to describe simply the great battle of the Middle Ages, and you can draw your own conclusions as to the merits of the respective causes.  I present the battle of heroes,—­a battle worthy of the muse of Homer.

Hildebrand in this battle disdained to fight with any but great and noble antagonists.  As the friend of the poor man, crushed and mocked by a cold and unfeeling nobility; as the protector of the Church, in danger of being subverted by the unhallowed tyranny and greed of princes; as the consecrated monarch of a great spiritual fraternity,—­he resolved to face the mightiest monarchs, and suffer, and if need be die, for a cause which he regarded as the hope and salvation of Europe.  Therefore he convened another council, and prohibited, under the terrible penalty of excommunication,—­for that was his mighty weapon,—­the investiture of bishoprics and abbacies at the hands of laymen:  only he himself should give to ecclesiastics the ring and the crozier,—­the badges of spiritual authority.  And he equally threatened with eternal fire any bishop or abbot who should receive his dignity from the hand of a prince.