saint or bishop here and there caught a futile vision of a world of
peace. Every man was armed against possible trouble with his neighbour;
every noble had his retainers and kept them well exercised; every prince
was free, as far as the spiritual authorities were concerned, to covet
and bloodily exact the lands of his neighbour. The noble, of either sex,
found supreme delight in jousts which the modern sentiment finds as
inhuman as a sordid quarrel of _Apaches_ over a mistress; the peasants
found a corresponding pleasure in the play of quarter-staves or the
combats of dogs and cocks.

It is, as I said, little use to speculate about the chances of a gospel
of humanity in such a world. The overwhelming majority of priests and
prelates made no effort whatever to restrain the prevailing violence.
The elementary duty of any profound moral agency was to protest without
ceasing, even if the protest was unavailing. It is not at all clear that
it would have been unavailing. The power of the Popes was beyond that
of any other hierarchy known to history, and at least the moral
education of Europe would have proceeded less slowly, and war would have
been abolished centuries ago, if there had been any serious, collective,
and authoritative enforcement of Christian principles. There was not,
and to this silence of the clergy during those long ages of their power
we owe the maintenance in Europe to-day of the regime of violence. They
were so far from enjoying moral inspiration in this respect that they
were amongst the first to bless the banners and swell the coffers of an
aggressive monarch, and they gave the military system a final
consecration by employing it repeatedly in the interests of the Church.

All that one can plead in mitigation of this deep historical censure of
the medieval Church is that the frontiers of Christendom were for
centuries threatened by the Turk and the Saracen. The old need of