Baring-Gould’s sources: Roman Martyrology. Canonized by Gregory IX. in 1233, and his festival appointed for August 5. Paul III., however, threw it back to August 4, so as not to interfere with the feast of Our Lady of the Snows. Authorities: — 1. Jordan of Saxony wrote the first life of S. Dominic before his canonization, r233; 2. an encyclical letter on the translation of the blessed Dominic, also by Jordan of Saxony, written about I234 J 3- the Acts of Eoiogna, containing the evidence of nine of his disciples concerning his miracles and virtues, dated August 30, r233; 4. the Acts of Toulouse, containing the testimony of twenty-six persons to his acts during the twelve years he was in Languedoc; 3. the Life of the Blessed Dominic, by Constantine de’ Medicis, B. of Orvieto, written between 1242 and 1247; 6. a Life written by the Blessed Humbert, general of the order, written before 1234; 7. the Chronicle of the Friars Preachers, by the same Humbert, June, 1202 — 1234; 8. a Life by Bartholomew of Trent, written between 1234— r2Si; 9. Lives of the Friars of the Order of Preachers, by Gerard de Frachet, drawn up by order of the general chapter at Paris, in 1236; 10. the Narrative of Sister Cecilia, one of the nuns under the direction of S. Dominic. Cecilia related all the particulars of the saint that she could remember to Sister Angelica, who wrote them down under her eye; n. the Vatican Chronicle from the beginning of the order to 1263; 12. “The Seven Gifts of the Spirit,” by Stephen de Bourbon, who died a.d. 1261, contains many anecdotes of S. Dominic; r3. the Life of S. Dominic, by Rodriquez de Cerrati, written about A.D. 1266; 14. a Life by Thierry d Apolda in 1288. It is unnecessary to mention later lives. A list of all available sources of information will be found at the end of the P&re Lacordaire's Life of S. Dominic.] In a dream one night Innocent III., it is reported,' saw the great edifice of the Church tottering to its fall. Then S. Dominic.
…suddenly there emerged from obscurity two men, one in grey, rope-girdled, the other in white with black cloak, and held up the falling building. He recognised afterwards in.the faces of S. Francis of Assisi, and S. Dominic, the stays of the Church. And, to all appearances, the Church was crumbling down when they arose, springing up from different quarters, without concert, to avert the threatening ruin.
The Church was rich; ecclesiastics were well fed; their ■flocks starved for the bread of life. Preaching was the prerogative of the bishops; it was not entrusted to priests. And the bishops lived only in cities, in the midst of ■splendour, mixed up with political concerns-, • too careless or too busy to teach. The sacraments of the Church may have been, and probably were, minisitred with regularity in the parish churches, but there was no irktruction to make men value them, no heart-stirring appeals to their conscience to make them repent of sin and turn to God. The crying scandal and want of the times were — the scandal of the wealth, luxury, indolence of the clergy, and the want of instruction. Francis of Assisi founded an order of Mendicants, of men full of zeal for poverty, hating riches, shunning idleness; Dominic of Caraloga instituted a Society of Preachers. The scandal and the want indicated had caused deep disaffection in Languedoc and Northern Italy. The cruel persecution of the Manichaeans by the Eastern emperors had sent successive waves of these heretics into Western Europe. They penetrated it in two streams, one by way of Bohemia, where the Bulgarians, Beghards, formed obscure, yet dangerous sects, the centres of activity whence sprang the great revolt of the Hussites in later days; the others came by way of the sea, and inundated Lombardy and Languedoc; in Lombardy they were known as the Patarines, in Languedoc as the Albigenses. Their zeal, pure morals, earnest preaching, and the simplicity of their system drew multitudes to them, and the Church in the south of France trembled to find itself outnumbered by sectaries, who, if they taught strange doctrine, lived good lives; if they were not Christians — as they certainly were not — yet put to shame those who were.
How was this devastating heresy to be met ? Man had his scheme; God had one very different. The Pope summoned a crusade, and the pleasant fields of Toulouse and Provence became a slaughter-house, from which the smoke of blood went up to Heaven; but He who promised to be ever with His Church, who warned His disciples not to gather up the tares out of the field lest they should pluck up the wheat with them, He met the evil otherwise. “The Spirit of God breatheth where He wills, and thou canst not tell whence He cometh or whither He goeth.” From Italy and Spain God called up two men to the work, very different in character, but one in earnestness of purpose and grasp of the situation.
Dominic was born in ir7o, at Caraloga, half-way between Aranda and Osma, in Old Castile. His parents were of noble name, that of Guzman, if not of noble race. His mother— so runs the legend — dreamed before his birth that she bore a dog with a torch in his mouth, which set the w°rld on fire. But this was an after fable, originating in the fact that the Dominicans, by a pleasant pun, were styled, or styled themselves, Domini-canes, the Lord’s dogs. And when the Inquisitorial power, with its terrors and tragedies, was lodged in their hands, the torch which kindled so many pyres and consumed so many heretics, became an intelligible adjunct to their symbolical animal.
His votaries borrowed also the old classical fable; the bees settled on his lips, foreshowing his exquisite eloquence. Even in his infancy, his severe nature, among other wonders began to betray itself. He crept from his soft couch to lie on the hard ground.
The first part of his education Dominic received from his uncle, a churchman, at Gamiel d’lzan. At fifteen he was sent to the university of Palencia,, where he studied, chiefly theology, for ten years. Two stories are recorded of this period, which show the dawn of religious strength in his character. During a famine he sold his clothes, more precious still, his books covered with his annotations, to feed the poor. When remonstrated with, “ How can I peruse dead parchment when breathing men are perishing ?” was his noble answer.
He met a woman weeping because her brother was a slave among the Moors [the Muslims of North Africa and Spain]: his enthusiastic charity would have made him sell himself to purchase his redemption, had not his friends interfered. Simple and pure of heart, he found pleasure in the bright prattle of young girls, rather than in the querulous gossip of old women, but the sweet flower of his childlike modesty was never injured, as it never need be, by such association.1 This is all we know of the youth of Dominic. A few precious fruit, which the late gleaner finds on the trees, after the harvest is passed — according to the graceful thought of Lacordaire.
The Bishop of Osina had changed his chapter into regular canons, those who lived in common, and under a rule approaching to a monastic institute. Chrodegang of Metz had first thus transformed his chapter, and the example spread through the West. Without rule, the clergy attached to a cathedral were under no discipline, and took advantage of their liberty to neglect their duties. The bishop 1 Ubi semetxpsum asserit in integritate carnis divina gratia conservation, nondum illam imperfectionem evadere potuisset, quia magis afficiebatur juvencularum colloquiis quam affatibus vetularum." This passage was carefully erased from the life of the saint by the chapter of his order. See Acta Sanct. Aug. 4, Vit. S. Dominic, c. x. ^appointed as his prior Diego de Azevedo, and conferred a canonry on Dominic, when twenty-five years old. “ Then,” says Jordan of Saxony, “he began to shine among the canons, his brethren, as a torch that burns, the first in sanctity, the last by his humility, shedding around him the odour of a life-giving life, a fragrance like the incense tree in the summer weather.... He spent night and day in the church, watching, without rest, with prayer, scarcely showing himself outside the cloister, lest he should lose leisure for his contemplations. God had given to him grace to pray for sinners, the unfortunate and the afflicted; he carried their sorrows into the inner sanctuary of his compassion, and this sad love, oppressing his heart, broke forth in tears. It was his habit, rarely interrupted, to pass the night in prayer and communion with God, his door closed. Sometimes his voice was heard in low moanings coming from his troubled heart. His incessant prayer was for a true charity, a love which would be ready to sacrifice everything for the good of other men, for he was well persuaded that he could not be a true member of Christ unless he devoted himself with all his powers to win souls.” Dominic remained at Osma nine years, devoid of incident Diego de Azevedo had succeeded to the Bishopric of Osma (a.d. i 201). He was a prelate of great ability, and of strong religious enthusiasm. He was sent to Denmark to negotiate the marriage of Alfonso VIII. of Castile with a princess of that kingdom. He chose the congenial Dominic as his companion. No sooner had they crossed the Pyrenees, than they found themselves in the midst of the Albig'ensian heresy; they could not close their eyes to the contempt into which the clergy had fallen, or to the prosperity of the sectaries; their very host at Toulouse was an Albigensian. Dominic sat up all night with him, controverting his doctrines, enlightening him on the great truths of the Christian religion; •S'. Dominic.
and he did not' leave till the man had submitted to acknow-. ledge his errors and re-enter the fold of the Church. The mission of the bishop in Denmark was frustrated by the unexpected death of the princess.
Before he returned to Spain Azevedo, with his companion, resolved upon a pilgrimage to Rome. The character of the Bishop of Osma appears from his proposal to Pope Innocent. He wished to abandon his bishopric, and devote himself to the perilous life of a missionary in Hungary. That Dominic would have been his companion in this adventurous spiritual enterprise none can doubt. Innocent commanded the bishop to return to his diocese. On their way, the bishop and Dominic stopped at Montpellier. There they encountered,, in all their pomp, the three Legates of the Pope, Abbot Arnold of Citeaux, the Brother Raoul, and Peter of Castelnau. They had been invested by the Pope with extraordinary powers to suppress heresy and punish the excesses of the clergy. They deposed the Bishop of Venders, and suspended the Bishop of Beziers for refusing to excommunicate at their command the magistrates of his city. They ordered the Count of Toulouse to expel all heretics out of the land. The Papal Legates travelled through the country in the utmost splendour and luxury, with a vast cavalcade of horses and sumpter mules, and a retinue in rich attire. Their exhortations and their sermons were met with derision. At Toulouse, on their return from the circuit, they were met by Diego de Azevedo and Dominic, and to them lamented their want of success. They could neither convince the sectaries, nor induce their sovereign to expel or exterminate them. “ How expect success with this secular pomp ?” replied the Spaniards. “ Sow the good seed as the heretics sow tares. Cast off these gorgeous robes,', renounce these richly caparisoned palfreys; go barefoot* without purse or scrip, like the Apostles,; out-labour, out-fast, out-discipline these false teachers.’' The Spaniards were not content with these stern admonitions; the Bishop of Osma and his faithful Dominic sent back their own horses, stripped themselves to the modest monastic gaberdine, and led the way on the spiritual campaign. The Legates were constrained to follow. Arnold of Citeaux, the abbot of abbots, was a man whose heart was sheathed with the triple iron of pride, cruelty, and bigotry. Of his sayings one has been preserved by a brother Cistercian [strict Benedictine reform begun at Cîteaux in 1098]. When the crusaders, under his direction, were massacring with every conceivable atrocity Catholics as well as Albigensians, in the memorable infamous taking of Beziers a messenger came running to record this indiscriminate butchery, and ask for orders. “ Kill all,” answered the abbot, “ God will know his own.”1 Brother Raoul was an obsequious follower. Peter of Castelnau was perhaps made of better stuff. At least, he died courageously enough for his faith, and dying forgave his murderers. After his mission among the heretics had failed, the Abbot of Citeaux departed for Burgundy, making the excuse that he had a chapter of his order to attend; but the two other legates, Don Diego and Dominic, set forth on foot for Narbonne and Toulouse. They tarried in the towns and villages, preaching in the churches till they had made some impression, holding public conferences with the heretics in the market-places.
But the party suffered a further diminution. Peter of Castelnau found this new system of conducting a mission irksome; and under the excuse that it was dangerous for him to expose his life among exasperated heretics, he also withdrew.
The story is told that, in one of the conferences, each party appeared with their arguments written out in full on parchment. Neither party would plead conviction by the reasoning 1 Caisarius Heisterb. Dial. Mirac. Dist. v c\ ax. of the other, and it was decided to throw both documents into a fire. It is said that the arguments of the heretics were consumed in the flame, but those of Dominic exhibited miraculous incombustibility. But on the whole the mission was a failure. Great results were not to be expected all at once; scandals were too recent, neglect of their duties too common, among the clergy to be forgotten immediately. Churchmen became impatient. The pomp of the Papal Legates had not dazzled, the enthusiasm of Diego and Dominic had not convinced, the Albigenses. Raymond of Rabesten was Bishop of Toulouse; his tolerant and easy disposition rendered him an unfit person to occupy such a distinguished position when sharp measures of unusual severity were meditated. Upon the charge of simony he was deposed by a decree of the Pope, and Foulques of Marseilles was elevated in his room. This man had been a gay troubadour — his amorous poems in Provengal have been preserved. He was a married man, but formed an ardent attachment for Azalais, the wife of Barral de Baux, Seigneur of Marseilles. The lady, finding that the gallant Foulques showed ardour in the pursuit of another lady, Laura de Saint; Jorlan, the sister of her husband, dismissed him. In a fit of despondency, Foulques took monastic vows in the Cistercian Monastery of Toronet, and was elected abbot in 1200, when he was about thirty-five years old. Five years after, he was fixed upon as a suitable person to succeed Raymond de Rabesten1. His licentious fires blazed forth in a fury of religious intolerance. There is no act of 1 Hist. Littdraire de la France, xviii. p. 586, &c. “Apr&s avoir donnd la moitid de sa vie & la galanterie, il livra sans retenue l'autre moiti£ h la cause de tyrannie, du meurtre, et de spoliation, et malheureusement il en profita.” “Your holiness is greatly deceived in the Bishop of Toulouse,” said the Count de Foix to Pope Innocent; “under show of good faith and amity he is always concerting treachery: his actions are devilish: through his malignity the city of Toulouse has suffered ruin, waste, and robbery: more than ten thousand men have perished through him.” Documents inddits sur l'Hist. de France; Fauriel, la Chronique des Albigeois, treachery or cruelty throughout the war in which the Bishop of Toulouse was not the most forward, sanguinary, unscrupulous.
The murder of Peter of Castelnau occasioned the summons of Pope Innocent III. to all Christian princes in the West to unite in crusade against the luckless Albigeuses.. Into the history and horrors of that, the most atrocious war which has stained the page of Christian history, we are fortunately not called to enter. There is absolutely no evidence that S. Dominic had any part in counselling or encouraging the massacres. His presence in that infamous drama is not noted by a single contemporary writer. It was not till a century after his death that his sterner followers boasted of his presence, if not his activity, in exciting the brutal crusaders in the day of battle, leading them, cross in hand, to victory and butchery.
So, too, the presence of S. Dominic on the tribunals where the unhappy heretics were tried for their lives, and given over to be burned by hundreds, rests on late and untrustworthy testimony, on that of Dominicans, when, they were inquisitors, and sought to establish as their sanction the example of their founder. All that can be proved is that, on one occasion, Dominic was employed in addressing, pleading with, and endeavouring to convince some Albigenses, who, if obstinate in their heresy, were destined for the fire. That he may have endeavoured on many other occasions to convert a heretic, and rescue him from his dreadful fate, is more than probable. On one occasion we know that he delivered an Albigensian from his chains on his way to execution.
Dominic established a convent at Prouille (a.d. 1206),' thinking, and wisely thinking, that devoted, religious women were as necessary in the midst of the heretics as were seifdenying and holy men. Many miracles are recorded of this period of Dominic’s life.1 Thierry d’Apolda relates an incident. A bishop, probably Foulques of Toulouse, was about to visit a part of his diocese in all the threatening panoply of war, and the splendours of wealth. “ It is not thus,” said the humble servant of God, “ that the adversaries of the Faith are to be subjugated. Arm yourself, not with the sword, but with prayer; wear not the magnificence of the world, but be clothed with humility.” Near Toulouse lived some noble ladies whom the austerity of the lives of the heretical teachers, contrasting gloriously with the luxury and laxness of the Catholic priests and prelates, had alienated from the Faith. Instead of compassing their ruin by denouncing them to the inexorable bishop, Dominic, at the beginning of Lent [the forty days of fasting before Easter], asked of them hospitality. It was accorded him. He entered into no controversy with them, but all Lent he ate but bread and water. The first night they made comfortable beds for Dominic and his companion; he declined them, and asked for two hard boards, and on these the apostles lay till Easter. The silent example of these loving, meek souls touched the hearts of their hostesses, and they were restored to the true fold. One day, in conversing with an Albigensian, the poor man told him that it was only his dire poverty which held him from reconciliation with the Church. Dominic bade the man sell him as a slave, and live on the proceeds in comfort and orthodoxy. But the sacrifice was not accomplished, money was placed at his disposal without having recourse to this extremity.
1 Nine noble ladies entreated him to show them whether their Manichasan doctrines were really evil. He prayed, and lo l the spirit of Manicheeism appeared as a great black cat, and ran up the hell rope. A lady of extreme beauty wished to leave her monastery, and resisted all the preacher’s arguments. She blew her nose, and it came off in her handkerchief. Horror-stricken, she implored the prayers of Dominic. He put her nose on again, and the lady consented to remain in the convent. VOL. IX. 4 Lives of the Samts.
The Albigensian war, by its duration, seemed to place an invincible obstacle in the way of Dominic, whose constant design was to found a religious Order consecrated to the ministry of preaching. Peace was the incessant object of his prayers, when the sickening atrocities of the crusade might be at an end, and he might labour for the truth with a better weapon than the sword. In the meantime he is thought to have established the devotion of the Rosary. The object was twofold. By dividing the circle of the Rosary into fifteen sections, each commemorating an incident in the life of our Lord or of the Blessed Virgin, he, hoped to impress the Gospel history deeply on the hearts of those who used this devotion, and thereby to make the Incarnation a reality to their souls. The Albigensians disbelieved in the Incarnation. Their doctrine was that of a perpetual conflict between spirit and body, and their ethical system consisted in an exaltation of the spirit to complete emancipation from the flesh, whose every appetite and function was gross and sinful. The dignity of man’s body, the value of the sacraments, the future destiny of the flesh, risen through Christ, were denied by the Albigensians, who allowed that Christ was indeed a teacher of morality, but disdained to believe in his Resurrection and Ascension. But the institution of the Rosary had another object., Dominic designed that it should serve not only to deepen faith, but also to build up a habit of devotion. The poor and ignorant could not use manuals of prayer, could not join in the liturgy of the Church conducted in a language unintelligible to them. Their rude efforts at prayer were liable through ignorance to become incoherent, purposeless, and even profane. No elaborate forms of prayer would suit these simple souls. Dominic gave them only two the Lord’s Prayer and the Hail Mary, to be used in commemoration of the great mysteries of the Christian faith S. Dominic.
and to be directed to such objects as at the time engrossed the mind or distressed the heart of the worshipper. The Rosary was at once the most elastic and the simplest system of prayer ever devised. Of the incalculable advantage it has been to myriads of souls it is impossible to speak too highly. That it is liable to degenerate into formalism is true of it as of every other religions exercise. But to the ignorant it has proved an admirable manual of faith and devotion, as testified by the experience of seven centuries. In 1215 Dominic visited Rome to obtain from Innocent III. his approbation of the Order of Preachers he had founded, or was in process of founding. Innocent hesitated about committing to other tongues than those of consecrated bishops, the liberty to preach to the people. ' It was a revolution in the practice of the Church he was asked to sanction, and before permitting it he reasonably sought delay in which he might consider its advisability. He could not but see that the bishops, mixed up as they were with political controversies, absent from their dioceses for months, years, on legations, or at the head of their troops in the camps of emperors, kings, or crusaders, could not dispense to the people the bread of the word of life with regularity. Nor were they often men of sufficient theological ■ training, or devotional bent of mind, to be able to instruct the poor and convert the sinner. The ministry of apostleship seemed to be dying out of the Church when Domiuic appeared and boldly asked that the Holy Father would permit an Order to undertake the great work in which the bishops had failed. A timely vision, so it is said, his own common sense, certainly, warranted Innocent in giving his sanction to the work of Dominic.
What Innocent approved, Honorius III. ratified, and Gregory IX. canonized. The Society of Preachers went forth with full authority to preach the word in season and out of season, and everywhere. In a few years it had spread throughout the West. Spain, France, Germany, Poland, and England were invaded by the noble company of Preachers. “ How beautiful on the mountains are the feet of them that bring good tidings, that publish peace, that bring good tidings of good, that publish salvation.”1 It is worthy of observation that the Order, founded for the suppression of heresy by preaching in Languedoc, was hardly organized before it left the chosen scene of its. labours. Instead of fixing on Toulouse, or any of the cities of Provence as the centre of his operations, Dominic — four years after the battle of Muret, which finally prostrated the Albigenses — for ever abandoned Languedoc. Such conduct is the best evidence on the feelings with which Dominic t regarded the crusade. On plains, reeking with the odours of carnage, he could glean no harvest. If the heretics were subdued, those who survived were too deeply wounded by wrongs, treachery, robbery, murder, debauchery wrought under the banners of the cross of Christ and the keys of S. Peter, to be amenable to the influence of holy example and gentle words. Generations must pass, the great crimes of that iniquitous war must be forgotten, before the dove of peace could revisit that land, and hearts would open to the gentle influences of the loving Spirit.
At Rome, on the visit made by Dominic to receive the confirmation of his Order, he met S. Francis, that other pillar holding up the tottering Church. One night, so runs the legend, being in prayer, he saw in vision the mother of God presenting two men before her son. In one he recognised himself, he saw the other next day in beggar’s garb in a church. He ran to him, clasped him in his arms, and said, 11 My companion, we will walk together, let us hold together, and none can overcome us.”
1 Isaiah lii. 7. S. Dominic. The kiss of S. Dominic and S. Francis has been transmitted from generation to generation. Every year, on the feast of S. Dominic, carriages leave Santa Maria sopra Minerva, at Rome, the head quarters of the Dominicans, and go to the convent of the Ara Cceli, for the General of the Franciscans, and a number of his brethren. The brown Capuchins are met in the church by the White Friars; in parallel lines they advance from the porch to the choir, and the sons of S. Francis sing the office of the friend of their founder in the church of the sons of S. Dominic. After the conclusion of the office they adjourn to the refectory, break bread together, and separate with an embrace.
After abandoning the field in Languedoc, Dominic came to Rome (a.d. 1217), where he was appointed by Honorius III. to be Master of the Sacred Palace — an office since perpetuated among his spiritual descendants. He was held in the highest honour by the aged Cardinal Ugolino, the future Pope Gregory IX. In the year 1220, three years after he had left Languedoc, he stood, as the General of his Order, at the head of an assembly at Bologna. Italy, Spain, Provence, France, Germany, Poland, had now their Dominican convents; the voices of Dominican preachers had penetrated into every land.
In 1218 a yearning had come over the heart of Dominic to revisit Spain, his dear native Castile. He left Rome in the autumn. Brother Albert, who accompanied him, afterwards told odd stories of the journey; how, when Dominic had his serge habit tom by a dog, he sealed up the rents with little dabs of clay; how, when a voluble and abusive hostess stormed at them for refusing to eat the meat she had cooked for the travellers’ dinner, Dominic imposed silence on her by a word, and the woman’s tongue did not wag again for eight months; till Dominic, on his way back, at her mute appeal, to the despair of her husband, restored its glibness to the paralysed member.
Dominic tarried at Segovia, where he founded a convent. Every night he spent in the church. The indelicate curiosity of some of his friars prompted them to pry into his privacy, and watch the secret communions of his soul with God. In the church alone,.as he thought, he could pour out his heart without restraint. The spies saw him in ecstasy of devotion before each altar, the words of David pouring from his lips: “My soul cleaveth to the dust, quicken me, O Lord, according to thy word l” “ Lord, I have cried unto thee, turn not far from me, keep not still silence, refrain not thyself, O God !” “ Lord, hear me, when I cry unto thee, whilst I lift up my hands in thy holy place !” “ I stretch forth my hands unto thee; my soul gaspeth unto thee as a thirsty land. Hear me, O Lord, and that soon, for my spirit waxeth faint; hide not thy face from me, lest I be like unto them that go down into the pit.” And anon, through the dark aisles would sound the convulsed sobbing of Dominic, as he numbered his failures, his shortcomings in that lofty walk, the close treading in the footsteps of his Saviour. Sometimes a passing moonbeam, or the light of the sanctuary lamp exhibited the white form of Dominic prostrate before an altar, or kneeling up with arms widespread in prayer, or standing on tiptoe in tremulous rapture and self-unconsciousness, like a seraph poised ready for flight. But we may be thought to partake of the vulgar inquisitiveness of those who intruded on these sacred scenes, if we attempt to describe them. There are moments in every life which it is sacrilege to intrude on and unveil.
From Segovia he went to Madrid, where he founded a convent for women, and then started for Paris. He was deserted on his road by all the brethren he had chosen to accompany him, except three. As they travelled they fell August in with bands of pilgrims, who fed them, and in return were edified by the pious exhortations of Dominic. When the rain fell Dominic sang. aloud the “ Ave Maris Stella,” or the “Veni Creator.” The Gospel of S. Matthew and the Epistles of S. Paul he carried ever with him, and on reaching an inn, or resting under the trees, would open them and read. His companions were often surprised and touched to see the play of emotion in his face as he read the sacred page; and sometimes the fixedness of his eyes, and air of abstraction, showed that his soul had passed from study to meditation, or by the movement of his lips, they judged, to prayer. When he had done reading, he reverently kissed the book, as though to thank it for the blessed lessons it had given him..On his road, whenever he had an opportunity to address the peasants, he preached with fervour. “ What books do you study?” asked a young man, after one of these sermons, which had touched and melted many rough hearts. “ Above all, the book of charity,” answered Dominic. “ Look at those roofs,” he would say sometimes to his companions, as they saw far off the red tiles of some little village. “ What sorrows and cares, what sins and difficulties they cover. Oh ! to lighten and remit some of them as we pass by.” In the summer of 1219 Dominic descended for the last time the flanks of the white Alps, and saw basking in the sunlight, and extending blue to the horizon, the plains of Italy. He returned to Rome by Bologna and Florence. He had not forgotten the good sisters of S. Sixtus, a convent he had founded at Rome, during his long absence. He brought them from Spain a number of ebony spoons, which he had carried about with him in his long round by way of Paris, on his shoulders. In 1220 the first chapter of the Order was held at Bologna, as has been already related. On his way to attend it Dominic visited S. Francis of Assisi at Cremona. Whilst the two patriarchs were conversing together, some Franciscans approached and said: “ Our convent is without good water; we pray you, servants of God, to intercede with the Lord, that He may bless our muddy well and make it limpid.” It had been newly sunk. The two patriarchs looked at one another, each inviting the other to reply. Then Dominic said to the friars, “ Draw some of the water, and bring it ns.” A bowl was produced full of the turbid fluid. A spring had been tapped, but it had not as yet purified itself.
Dominic said to Francis, “ Father, bless this water in the name of the Lord.” Francis replied, “ Father, you must bless it, for you are greater than I am.” Dominic took the bowl, made the sign of the cross over the water, and bade it be poured back into the well, whose waters were healed immediately.
One night, on his way, probably at Columba, near Parma, Dominic and his companions arrived at a monastery gate after all the monks had gone to bed. One of his attendants would have knocked. “Do not wake them/ said Dominic; “we can sleep on the step.” At what time Dominic instituted his Third Order is not exactly known. He, as well as S. Francis, saw the necessity of widening the influence of their Order, and of uniting seculars in a common bond, by some new organization. Both patriarchs accordingly instituted Tertiaries, a third order in connexion respectively with the Society of S. Dominic or of S. Francis. The members lived in the world, in the midst of their secular Avocations, their families, bound by no monastic vows but deeply imbued with the corporate spirit. They were organized, each under his own prior, and were taught to cultivate personal holiness, and to labour, each in his station, to advance the faith and combat heresy and immorality. The Third Order, whether of S. Dominic or S. FranAugust cis, spread, not merely by its own perpetual influence and unwearied activity, it had everywhere a vast host of votaries wedded to its interests, full of enthusiasm, ready to advance the cause both of Christ and of S. Dominic or S. Francis. These lay coadjutors, these Tertiaries, as they were called in the Society of S. Francis, Soldiers of Jesus Christ, as they were designated in the Society of S. Dominic, took the place which had been occupied by the heretics. The heretics • had been often men and women affecting a more pious, exclusively holy life than the generality of their neighbours, bound together by some common rule, and falling into heresy only because neglected by the Church. Now the Church extended, through Dominic or Francis, her hands to this class of people, took them to her, and enrolled them in her army. One great attraction presented by the heretical communities was wrested from them, and the orthodox Societies approved by the Holy See enlisted in the cause of the Church.
S. Dominic fell sick of fever and dysentery at Venice, in July, 1221; he would not go to bed, but sat up in his white serge habit, silent and patient. He felt he was dying, and sent for his friars, to give them his last exhortations. At the advice of the doctors he was moved to S. Maria degli Monte, near Bologna. He began to sink rapidly. He heard a rumour that the religious of S. Maria had resolved on retaining his body, after his death, for their church. “God forbid that I should rest anywhere but among my friars,” said he; “ carry me into my own vineyard, that I may die therein.” He was transported to Bologna, in the arms of his friars, who feared he would die at each step. There was no spare cell in the convent there. Brother Moneta gave up his own. His habit must be changed. Moneta pulled off his own tunic, and gave it to the dying patriarch [the title of the bishops of the great ancient sees: Rome, Constantinople, Alexandria, Antioch, Jerusalem]. Brother Rudolf held Dominic’s head on his ft * bosom, and gently wiped the sweat away with a handkerchief. A ring of brothers stood round weeping. “ Do not weep,” said Dominic; “ I may be more useful to you where I am going than I could be here.” Some one asked him where he would like to be buried. “ Under the feet of my friars,” he answered. “ Now make ready.” They prepared to administer to him the last sacrament. “ Begin.” They recited the recommendation of a departing soul. His lips moved till they came to the words, “ Come to his aid, saints of God ! come, angels of the Lord, and bear his soul into the presence of the Most High !” when his lips ceased to move. His hands rose towards heaven. His body reposes in the church of his Order at Bologna. In art he is represented with a star on his brow, because in legend it is said that his nurse once saw one shining over his head as he slept.
