whom he encountered, and then, to prevent all further complaint and suits, paid the sum appointed in the law. The prætors being informed of this shameless audacity, abrogated the ancient ordinance, and decreed that for all personal offences a penalty should be awarded proportioned to the circumstances of the deed and the quality of the injured.

And who amongst the children of the Church may justly claim the honour of resembling this Neratius? Such, doubtless, as deliberately offend, relying upon that means of reconciliation always at their disposal, flattering themselves that, by their repeated confessions, and the trifling satisfaction imposed, all will again be right. But who does not see how foolish is their confidence? Their crime may either violate their neighbour's right or not, yet is it always a transgression of the Divine law, and offence of God, an infinite enormity. God has indeed, in confession, appointed a means of reconciliation, of infinite, because of sacramental power; yet when this is misused to a constant repetition of offence, God, enraged at such mockery, revokes His determination, recalls this means, otherwise so availing. When we pray, "Forgive us our trespasses," we cannot pervert these words to such evil import, as though they meant, Liberate us from our criminality, free us from our duties to Thee, and to our neighbour.' As well might he who has despoiled his neighbour of his possessions, in place of thinking of restitution, rest satisfied with a pious sigh, and exclaim, 66 Forgive us our trespasses." Whilst this petition would encourage us to cherish a trustful confidence in God's mercy, it would remind us of His justice

and His truth, with which alone we can properly be reconciled.

Towards the middle of the tenth century, it happened that Joseramnus, the eldest son of Lidericus, Count of Flanders, was, with his brother, indulging in childish sports beyond the drawbridge in the neighbourhood of the castle. A woman, poor, and weighed down with care and want, offered him a basket containing fruit, begging for some little money, that she might obtain food for her children in the then prevailing famine. Joseramnus purchased her little treasure, and, not having with him any money, he desired her to remain a few minutes, until he should return with the payment. He hastened back to the castle, and distributed the fruit amongst his mother's maids. In return, they entered with him into so many playful sports, that he quite forgot the destitute creature who stood without. In great anguish she awaited his coming, and constantly turned her eyes to the castle; with each quarter of an hour her anxiety increased, for she thought of the infants who languished for her assistance; often did she raise her foot to hasten to her hut, and then resolved to wait one quarter more; at length the night broke in, and the hopeless woman turned away. Weary and exhausted with hunger and her long and fruitless expectation, and yet more forlorn at the sorrowful thought that she brought no bread for her children, she tottered to her hovel, and, with palpitating heart, passed the threshold. On the floor, worn out by hunger, lay her lifeless infants. The night she passed in bitter tears, which soon gave way to loud complaints, which again were conquered by burning desires of revenge. The

morning dawned; she seized her infants in her arms, bore her doleful burden to the castle, and demanded with such earnestness to see the Count, that she was admitted into his presence. With compassion he asked her request; when she laid her children on the ground, fell on her knees, and exclaimed, Wouldst thou, O mighty ruler of Flanders, prove thyself truly a prince, it behoves thee this day to pass severe judgment, to have no respect of persons, nor to yield to paternal love. Dost thou inquire the subject of my complaint? Behold these infants. Dost thou ask the cause of their death? Well can I tell thee. To name the culprit may to me prove dangerous. Yet, what have I to lose? He eats at thy table; he is one of thy own family; it is Joseramnus!' Lidericus, in consternation, caused her to narrate the whole event, and having heard his son's account, and made strict inquiry, he hastened privately to Tournay; and there, not mentioning persons, he laid the case before the Senate, and left with them the decision. They adjudged that the youth was guilty of the death of the children, and had therefore forfeited his life. Lidericus consented that his son should be beheaded.

This excessive, this untimely severity, would be little conformable to our present notions; for the youth had offended merely through want of consideration, not with evil design; no crime could be laid to his charge. But, independently of this, and considering the misfortune he had occasioned, who amongst us can tell with certainty, where and how he has injured his neighbour? How often do we view ourselves as guiltless, when, though perhaps without design, we have rent

our neighbour's heart? If we consider how many human actions proceed from evil views, with what boldness injustice, usury, deceit, or violence crush the poor, the innocent, and helpless, well shall we understand those dreadful words: "Verily, I say unto you, You shall not depart hence until you have paid the last farthing."

The fifth petition would, therefore, remind us of the justice of God; not that we may challenge it forth, but render it satisfaction, and no longer abide in rebellion, which is the death of the soul. It would tell us too of the Divine mercy, since we address our words to a loving Father, who no sooner sees that we have renounced our opposition, than He gladly removes the guilt which we have drawn on our heads, and remits the chastisement deserved; not so much because we petition Him, but because our petition is based on a rightful confidence in that infinite merit which Christ has purchased. Who has ever returned to God in sorrow, unless awakened by his Redeemer speaking to his soul? How could the remission of his infinite guilt be attained, had not the Saviour offered for all mankind His mediating satisfaction?

Thus, then, we pray for the remission of that personal guilt which we have contracted after our baptism, and for our readmission into the favour of Christ; and as in the fourth petition we implored our daily bread, so in this do we beg for a daily forgiveness, since we daily fall into venial, or less grievous sins. We pray, moreover, in the name of all men, "Forgive our trespasses;" because fraternal charity obliges to this form of prayer; and because, through the huma

nity of Christ, we are all brethren, and members of one body. We also hereby acknowledge, that no one may claim, in his own person, an exemption from this petition; as though he addressed it, not for himself, but in the name of others. For where is the mortal who, like his Redeemer, can stand forth and demand, "Which of you can convince me of sin?"

It is related in the history of Alphonsus king of Arragon, that the council of Catalonia had determined, in consideration of the youthful age of their new sovereign, to select for him a certain number of advisers to assist him in the government of the kingdom. They accordingly went to the young monarch, and having acquainted him with their design, stated that they had chosen seven approved men, who were accustomed to have God always before their eyes, to observe justice with the greatest rigour, to hold their passions in the greatest restraint, and to remain immovable against praise, flattery, and all other allurements. Alphonsus extolled their wise proposal, and had but one remark to make. · If, my friends,' he replied, 'you have discovered, I do not say seven, but even one such man, I not only desire to receive him as my counsellor, but am ready to give to him the entire government and the kingdom."

Was this declaration thoughtless or extravagant? Let the Scriptures reply: "There is no just man upon earth who does only good, and never fails." (Eccles. vii.) Who can declare, " My heart is pure and free from all sin?" (Prov. xx.) And thus teaches the Apostle: "If we say we have no sin, we deceive ourselves, and the truth is not in us."

But he does not merely say this,