xed him, as, on the one hand, he feared to pass for a
flatterer, if he went contrary to public opinion, and on the other, to
give offence, if he spoke the truth. Nevertheless, as cardinal Guido
Clement had bore witness in favour of the people, he, John of
Salisbury, dared not contradict him. For the cardinal had said that
the Church of Rome contained a world of avarice and deceit, from which
every evil sprung. This he had not said in a corner, but before all
his brethren, in presence of Pope Eugenius; and yet he, John of
Salisbury, would not hesitate to declare that, as far as his
experience went, he had never seen anywhere clergymen of greater
virtue, or more opposed to avarice, than those of Rome. Such was the
gravity and modesty of many of them, that in those respects they
equalled Fabricius, while, in possessing the true faith, they had the
advantage over him. Then, with regard to the pope himself,--as his
Holiness insisted on being plainly spoken to,--he would say, that,
inasmuch as the Holy Ghost could not err, so whatever his Holiness
might teach, must be followed; though, what his Holiness might do, was
not always to be imitated. His Holiness was styled Father and Lord of
all: but why, if he was the Father, did he require presents from his
children? and why, if he was the Lord, did he not strike awe into the
Romans, curb their insolence, and reclaim them to their duty? At all
this the pope laughed heartily, and expressed himself well pleased at
having found a man so honest and plain spoken; adding, that if ever he
should hear anything further to the same purpose, by no means to omit
reporting it. Adrian then proceeded to pass his own conduct in review,
said many things for and against himself, and made reflections on the
arduousness of the papal office, affirming that no other was so full
of cares, and that no man was more wretched than a Roman Pontiff: "for
his throne was set with thorns, his mantle pierced with sharp points,
and so heavy as to weigh the strongest shoulders to the ground." Much
sooner would he prefer never to have left his native English soil, or
to have remained for ever hidden in his cell at St. Rums, than to have
entered such straits; but the divine dispensation had called him, and
he dared not disobey. He further said, that it had always been the
Lord's pleasure, that he should grow between the hammer and the anvil;
that now he prayed the Lord would be pleased to put his hand under the
burde