his thunderbolts are perpetual powers, since they still alarm the
fears of men.

Still, his personal history is not uninteresting. Born of humble
parents in Italy in the year 1020, the son of a carpenter, he rose
by genius and virtue to the highest offices and dignities. But his
greatness was in force of character rather than original ideas,--
like that of Washington, or William III., or the Duke of
Wellington. He had not the comprehensive intellect of Charlemagne,
nor the creative genius of Peter of Russia, but he had the sagacity
of Richelieu and the iron will of Napoleon. He was statesman as
well as priest,--marvellous for his activity, insight into human
nature, vast executive abilities, and dauntless heroism. He
comprehended the only way whereby Christendom could be governed,
and unhesitatingly used the means of success. He was not a great
scholar, or theologian, or philosopher, but a man of action,
embracing opportunities and striking decisive blows. From first to
last he was devoted to his cause, which was greater than himself,--
even the spiritual supremacy of the Papacy. I do not read of great
intellectual precocity, like that of Cicero and William Pitt, nor
of great attainments, like those of Abelard and Thomas Aquinas, nor
even an insight, like that of Bacon, into what constitutes the
dignity of man and the true glory of civilization; but, like
Ambrose and the first Leo, he was early selected for important
missions and responsible trusts, all of which he discharged with
great fidelity and ability. His education was directed by the
monks of Cluny,--that princely abbey in Burgundy where "monks were
sovereigns and sovereigns were monks." Like all earnest monks, he
was ascetic, devotional, and self-sacrificing. Like all men
ambitions to rule, "he learned how to obey." He pondered on the