child in his place; but Maurice, who was too noble to allow of such a sacrifice, disclosed the pious deception to the murderers. He died like a Christian hero, repeating the words of the psalm, "Thou, O Lord, art just, and all Thy judgments are right." This massacre did not satisfy Phocas, who sacrificed the empress and her three daughters, the brother of Maurice, and a multitude of others in his train. The monster then sent his own image and that of his wife to Rome, where the senate and people received them with rejoicings. Gregory unfortunately joined in these mean acclamations. He carried these images of his new masters, bathed in innocent blood, into the oratory of the Lateran palace. Afterwards, he addressed extraordinary congratulations to Phocas, not in the surprise of the first moment, but seven months after the crime. This is the only stain upon the life of Gregory. We do not attempt either to conceal or to excuse it. It can scarcely be explained by recalling all the vexations he had suffered from Maurice, annoyances of which he always complained energetically, though he did not fail to do justice to the undeniable piety of the old emperor. Perhaps Gregory adopted this means to secure the help of Phocas against the new incursions of the Lombards, or to mollify beforehand the already threatening intentions of the tyrant. It must also be remembered that these flatteries were in some sort the official language of these times; they resulted from the general debasement of public manners, and from the tone of the language invariably used then at each change of reign. His motives were undoubtedly pure. Notwithstanding, a stain remains upon his memory, and a shadow upon the history of the Church, which is so consoling and full of light in this age of storm and darkness. But among the greatest and holiest of mortals, virtue, like human wisdom, always falls short in some respect.