CHAPTER V.

I. SECOND VISIT OF ERASMUS TO ENGLAND (1505-6).

[Sidenote: Erasmus again is More’s guest.]

Towards the close of 1505, Erasmus arrived in England, to renew his

intimacy with his English friends.[310] He had not this time to visit

Oxford in order to meet them. Colet, Grocyn, Linacre, More, and his friend

Lilly, all were ready to receive him with open arms in London. He seems,

for a time at least, to have been More’s guest.[311]

Since Erasmus had last seen him, the youth had matured into the man. He

had passed through much discipline and mental struggle. But his grey eye

sparkled still with native wit, and a hasty glance round his rooms was

enough to assure his old friend that his tastes were what they used to

be--that in heart and mind, in spite of all that had befallen him, he was

the same high-toned and happy-hearted soul he always had been.

[Sidenote: More’s wife.]

More’s young and gentle wife, fresh from the retirement of her father’s

country home, was too uncultured to attract much notice from the learned

foreigner; but he tells us More had purposely chosen a wife whom he could

mould to his own liking for a life companion. Both were young, and she was

apt to learn. Whilst, therefore, he himself found time to devote to his

favourite Greek books and his lyre, he was imparting by degrees to her his

own fondness for literature and music.[312]

[Sidenote: More’s epigrams.]

Erasmus found him writing Latin epigrams and verses, in which the pent-up

bitter thoughts of the past year or two were making their escape. Some

were on priests and monks--sharp biting satires on their evil side, and by

no means showing abject faith in monkhood.[313]

Nor was he courting back again the favour of offended royalty by melodious

and repentant whinings. Rather his pen gave vent to the chafed and untamed

spirit of the man who knew he had done his duty, and was unjustly

suffering for it. His unrelenting hatred of the king’s avarice and tyranny

may be read in the very headings of his epigrams.[314]

[Sidenote: Translations from Lucian.]

[Sidenote: Fascination of Erasmus for More.]

Erasmus joined More in his studies.[315] He was translating into Latin

some of Lucian’s Dialogues and his ‘Declamatio pro Tyrannicidâ.’ At More’s

suggestion they both wrote a full answer to Lucian’s arguments in favour

of tyrannicide, imitating Lucian’s style as nearly as possible; and

Erasmus, in sending a copy of these essays to a friend, spoke of More in

terms which show how fully he had again yielded to the fascination and

endearing charms of his character. As he had once spoken of the youth, so

now he spoke of the man. Never, he thought, had nature united so fully in

one mind so many of the qualities of genius--the keenest insight, the

readiest wit, the most convincing eloquence, the most engaging manners--he

possessed, he said, every quality required to make a perfect

advocate.[316]

Such a man, with fair play and opportunity, was sure to rise into

distinction. But as yet he must bide his time, waiting for the day when he

could pursue his proper calling at the bar without risk of incurring royal

displeasure.

II. ERASMUS AGAIN LEAVES ENGLAND FOR ITALY (1506).

Erasmus seems to have spent some months during the spring of 1506 with his

English friends, busying himself, as already mentioned, in translating in

More’s company portions of Lucian’s works, and, so far as his letters show

at first sight, not very eagerly pursuing those sacred studies at which he

had told Colet that he longed to labour.

[Sidenote: Erasmus longs to visit Italy, but wants funds.]

Nor was there really anything inconsistent in this. The truth was that, in

order to complete his knowledge of Greek, without which he had declared he

could do nothing thoroughly, he had yet to undertake that journey to Italy

which had been the dream of his early manhood, and the realisation of

which six years ago had only been prevented by his unlucky accident at

Dover. This journey to Italy lay between him and the great work of his

life, and still the adage of Plautus remained inexorable, ‘Sine pennis

volare haud facile est.’

It was therefore that he was translating Lucian. It was therefore that he

dedicated one dialogue to one friend, another to another.[317] It was

therefore that he paid court to this patron of learning and that. It was

not that he was importunate and servilely fond of begging, but that, by

hook or by crook, the necessary means must be found to carry out his

project.

It was thus that we find Grocyn rowing with him to Lambeth to introduce

him to Archbishop Warham, and the two joking together as they rowed back

to town, upon the small pecuniary result of their visit.[318]

[Sidenote: Erasmus leaves for Italy, with two pupils.]

Funds, it appeared, did not come in as quickly as might have been wished,

but at length the matter was arranged. Erasmus was to proceed to Italy,

taking under his wing two English youths, sons of Dr. Baptista, chief

physician to Henry VII. A young Scotch nobleman, the Archbishop of St.

Andrew’s, was also to be placed under the scholar’s care.[319] By this

arrangement Erasmus was, as it were, to work his passage; which he

thankfully agreed to do, and set out accordingly. With what feelings he

left England, and with what longings to return, may be best gathered from

the few lines he wrote to Colet from Paris, after having recovered from

the effects of the journey, including a rough toss of four days across the

Straits:--

_Erasmus to Colet._

‘Paris: June 19, 1506.

[Sidenote: Letter to Colet from Paris.]

‘When, after leaving England, I arrived once more in France, it is

hard to say how mingled were my feelings. I cannot easily tell you

which preponderated, my joy in visiting again the friends I had before

left in France, or my sadness in leaving those whom I had recently

found in England. For this I can say truly, that there is no whole

country which has found me friends so numerous, so sincere, learned,

obliging, so noble and accomplished in every way, as the one City of

London has done. Each has so vied with others in affection and good

offices, that I cannot tell whom to prefer. I am obliged to love all

of them alike. The absence of these must needs be painful; but I take

heart again in the recollection of the past, keeping them as

continually in mind as if they were present, and hoping that it may so

turn out that I may shortly return to them, never again to leave them

till death shall part us. I trust to you, with my other friends, to do

your best for the sake of your love and interest for me to bring this

about as soon and as propitiously as you can.

‘I cannot tell you how pleased I am with the disposition of the sons

of Baptista: nothing could be more modest or tractable; nor could they

be more diligent in their studies. I trust that this arrangement for

them may answer their father’s hopes and my desires, and that they may

hereafter confer great honour upon England. Farewell.’[320]

[Sidenote: Letter to Linacre.]

To Linacre, too, Erasmus wrote in similar terms. He alluded to the

unpleasant consequences to his health of his four days’ experience of the

winds and waves, and wished, he said, that Linacre’s medical skill were at

hand to still his throbbing temples. He expressed, as he had done to

Colet, the hope that he soon might be able to return to England, and that

the task he had undertaken with regard to his two pupils, might turn out

well; and he ended his letter by urging his friend to write to him often.

Let it be in few words, if he liked, but he must write.[321]

III. ERASMUS VISITS ITALY AND RETURNS TO ENGLAND (1507-10).

At length Erasmus really was on his way to Italy, trudging along on

horseback, day after day, through the dirt of continental roads,

accompanied by the two sons of Dr. Baptista, their tutor, and a royal

courier, commissioned to escort them as far as Bologna.

[Sidenote: Erasmus on his way to Italy.]

[Sidenote: German inns.]

It is not easy to realise the toil of such a journey to a jaded delicate

scholar, already complaining of the infirmities of age, though as yet not

forty. Strange places, too, for a fastidious student were the roadside

inns of Germany, of which Erasmus has left so vivid a picture, and into

which he turned his weary head each successive night, after grooming his

own horse in the stable. One room serves for all comers, and in this one

room, heated like a stove, some eighty or ninety guests have already

stowed themselves--boots, baggage, dirt and all. Their wet clothes hang on

the stove iron to dry, while they wait for their supper. There are footmen

and horsemen, merchants, sailors, waggoners, husbandmen, children, and

women--sound and sick--combing their heads, wiping their brows, cleaning

their boots, stinking of garlic, and making as great a confusion of

tongues as there was at the building of Babel! At length, in the midst of

the din and stifling closeness of this heated room, supper is spread--a

coarse and ill-cooked meal--which our scholar scarcely dares to touch, and

yet is obliged to sit out to the end for courtesy’s sake. And when past

midnight Erasmus is shown to his bedchamber, he finds it to be rightly

named--there is nothing in it but a _bed_; and the last and hardest task

of the day is now to find between its rough unwashed sheets some chance

hours of repose.

[Sidenote: Journey over the Alps.]

So, almost in his own words,[322] did Erasmus fare on his way to Italy.

Nor did comforts increase as Germany was left behind. For as the party

crossed the Alps, the courier quarrelled with the tutor, and they even

came to blows. After this, Erasmus was too angry with both to enjoy the

company of either, and so rode apart, composing verses on those

infirmities of age which he felt so rapidly encroaching upon his own frail

constitution.[323] At length the Italian frontier was reached, and

Erasmus, as Luther did three or four years after,[324] began the painful

task of realising what that Italy was about which he had so long and so

ardently dreamed.

[Sidenote: Erasmus in Italy.]

[Sidenote: Erasmus returns to England.]

It is not needful here to trace Erasmus through all his Italian

experience. It presents a catalogue of disappointments and discomforts

upon which we need not dwell. How his arrangement with the sons of

Baptista, having lasted a year, came to an end, and with it the most

unpleasant year of his life;[325] how he took his doctor’s degree at

Turin; how he removed to Bologna to find the city besieged by Roman

armies,[326] headed by Pope Julius himself; how he visited Florence[327]

and Rome;[328] how he went to Venice to superintend a new edition of the

‘Adagia;’ how he was flattered, and how many honours he was promised, and

how many of these promises he found to be, as injuries ought to be,

written on sand;--these and other particulars of his Italian experience

may be left to the biographer of Erasmus. In 1509, on the accession of

Henry VIII. to the English throne, the friends of Erasmus sent him a

pressing invitation to return to England,[329] which he gladly accepted.

For our present purpose it were better, therefore, to see him safely on

his horse again, toiling back on the same packhorse roads, lodging at the

same roadside inns, and meeting the same kind of people as before, but his

face now, after three or four years’ absence, set towards England, where

there are hearts he can trust, whether he can or cannot those in Rome, and

where once again, safely housed with More, he can write and talk to Colet

as he pleases, and forget in the pleasures of the present the toils and

disappointments of the past.[330]

[Sidenote: ‘_Praise of Folly._’]

For what most concerns the history of the Oxford Reformers is this--that

it was to beguile these journeys that Erasmus conceived the idea of his

‘Praise of Folly,’ a satire upon the follies of the times which had grown

up within him at these wayside inns, as he met in them men of all classes

and modes of life, and the keen edge of which was whetted by his recent

visit to Italy and Rome.[331] What most concerns the subject of these

pages is the mental result of the Italian journey, and it was not long

before it was known in almost every wayside inn in Europe.

IV. MORE RETURNS TO PUBLIC LIFE ON THE ACCESSION OF HENRY VIII. (1509-10).

But little can be known of what happened to Colet and More during the

absence of Erasmus in Italy.

That Colet was devoted to the work of his Deanery may well be imagined.

[Sidenote: More thinks of fleeing from England.]

As to More; during the remaining years of Henry VII.’s reign, he was

living in continual fear--thinking of flying the realm[332]--going so far

as to pay a visit to the universities of Louvain and Paris,[333] as though

to make up his mind where to flee to, if flight became needful.[334]

[Sidenote: Empson and Dudley.]

[Sidenote: Henry VII.’s exactions.]

[Sidenote: Henry VII. dies.]

Nor were these fears imaginary. More was not alone in his dread of the

King. Daily the royal avarice was growing more unbounded. Cardinal

Morton’s celebrated fork--the two-pronged dilemma with which benevolences

were extracted from the rich by the clever prelate--had been bad enough.

The legal plunder of Empson and Dudley was worse. It filled every one with

terror. ‘These two ravening wolves,’ writes Hall, who lived near enough to

the time to feel some of the exasperation he described, ‘had such a guard

of false perjured persons appertaining to them, which were by their

commandment empannelled on every quest, that the King was sure to win

whoever lost. Learned men in the law, when they were required of their

advice, would say, “to agree is the best counsel I can give you.” By this

undue means, these covetous persons filled the King’s coffers and enriched

themselves. At this unreasonable and extortionate doing noblemen grudged,

mean men kicked, poor men lamented, preachers openly at Paul’s Cross and

other places exclaimed, rebuked, and detested, but yet they would never

amend.’[335] Then came the general pardon, the result, it was said, of the

remorse of the dying King, and soon after the news of his death.

[Sidenote: Accession of Henry VIII.]

Henry VIII. was proclaimed King, 23rd April, 1509. The same day Empson and

Dudley were sent to the Tower, and on the 17th of August, in the following

year, they were both beheaded.

More was personally known to the new King, and presented to him on his

accession a richly illuminated vellum book, containing verses of

congratulation.[336] These verses have been disparaged as too adulatory in

their tone. And no doubt they were so; but More had written them evidently

with a far more honest loyalty than Erasmus was able to command when he

wrote a welcome to Philip of Spain on his return to the Netherlands. More

honestly did rejoice, and with good reason, on the accession of Henry

VIII. to the throne. It not only assured him of his own personal safety;

it was in measure like the rise of his own little party into power.

[Sidenote: The Oxford Reformers in favour with the King; but no mere

courtiers.]

Not that More and Colet and Linacre were suddenly transformed into

courtiers, but that Henry himself, having been educated to some extent in

the new learning, would be likely at least to keep its enemies in check

and give it fair play. There had been some sort of connection and sympathy

between Prince Henry in his youth and More and his friends; witness More’s

freedom in visiting the royal nursery. Linacre had been the tutor of

Henry’s elder brother, and was made royal physician on Henry’s

accession.[337] From the tone of More’s congratulatory verses it may be

inferred that he and his friends had not concealed from the Prince their

love of freedom and their hatred of his father’s tyranny. For these

verses, however flattering in their tone, were plain and outspoken upon

this point as words well could be. With the _suaviter in modo_ was united,

in no small proportion, the _fortiter in re_. It would be the King’s own

fault if, knowing, as he must have done, More’s recent history, he should

fancy that these words were idle words, or that he could make the man,

whose first public act was one of resistance to the unjust exactions of

his father, into a pliant tool of his own! If he should ever try to make

More into a courtier, he would do so at least with his royal eyes open.

[Sidenote: More made under-sheriff of London.]

How fully Henry VIII. on his part sided with the people against the

counsellors of his father was not only shown by the execution of Dudley,

but also by the appointment, almost immediately after, of Thomas More to

the office of under-sheriff in the City, the very office which Dudley

himself had held at the time when, as speaker of the House of Commons, he

had been a witness of More’s bold conduct--an office which he and his

successor had very possibly used more to the King’s profit than to the

ends of impartial justice.

The young lawyer who had dared to incur royal displeasure by speaking out

in Parliament in defence of the pockets of his fellow-citizens, had

naturally become a popular man in the City. And his appointment to this

judicial office was, therefore, a popular appointment.

[Sidenote: More’s tested high principle.]

The spirit in which More entered upon its responsible duties still more

endeared him to the people. Some years after, by refusing a pension

offered him by Henry VIII., he proved himself more anxious to retain the

just confidence of his fellow-citizens, in the impartiality of his

decisions in matters between them and the King, than to secure his own

emolument or his Sovereign’s patronage.[338] The spirit too in which he

_re_entered upon his own private practice as a lawyer was illustrated both

by his constant habit of doing all he could to get his clients to come to

a friendly agreement before going to law, and also by his absolute refusal

to undertake any cause which he did not conscientiously consider to be a

rightful one.[339] It is not surprising that a man of this tested high

principle should rapidly rise upon the tide of merited prosperity. Under

the circumstances in which More was now placed, his practice at the bar

became rapidly extensive.[340] Everything went well with him. Once more he

was drinking the wine of life.

[Sidenote: More’s domestic happiness.]

There was probably no brighter home--brighter in present enjoyment, or

more brilliant in future prospects--than that home in Bucklersbury, into

which Erasmus, jaded by the journey, entered on his arrival from Italy. He

must have found More and his gentle wife rejoicing in their infant son,

and the merry voices of three little daughters echoing the joy of the

house.[341]

V. ERASMUS WRITES THE ‘PRAISE OF FOLLY’ WHILE RESTING AT MORE’S HOUSE

(1510 OR 1511).

For some days Erasmus was chained indoors by an attack of a painful

disease to which he had for long been subject. His books had not yet

arrived, and he was too ill to admit of close application of any kind.

[Sidenote: The ‘Praise of Folly,’ written in More’s house.]

To beguile his time, he took pen and paper, and began to write down at his

leisure the satirical reflections on men and things which, as already

mentioned, had grown up within him during his recent travels, and served

to beguile the tedium of his journey from Italy to England. It was not

done with any grave design, or any view of publication; but he knew his

friend More was fond of a joke, and he wanted something to do, to take his

attention from the weariness of the pain which he was suffering. So he

worked away at his manuscript. One day when More came home from business,

bringing a friend or two with him, Erasmus brought it out for their

amusement. The fun would be so much the greater, he thought, when shared

by several together. He had fancied Folly putting on her cap and bells,

mounting her rostrum, and delivering an address to her votaries on the

affairs of mankind. These few select friends having heard what he had

already written, were so delighted with it that they insisted on its being

completed. In about a week the whole was finished.[342] This is the simple

history of the ‘Praise of Folly.’

It was a satire upon follies of all kinds. The bookworm was smiled at for

his lantern jaws and sickly look; the sportsman for his love of butchery;

the superstitious were sneered at for attributing strange virtues to

images and shrines, for worshipping another Hercules under the name of St.

George, for going on pilgrimage when their proper duty was at home. The

wickedness of fictitious pardons and the sale of indulgences,[343] the

folly of prayers to the Virgin in shipwreck or distress, received each a

passing censure.

[Sidenote: Grammarians and schools.]

Grammarians were singled out of the regiment of fools as the most servile

votaries of folly. They were described as ‘A race of men the most

miserable, who grow old in penury and filth in their schools--_schools_,

did I say? _prisons! dungeons!_ I should have said--among their boys,

deafened with din, poisoned by a fœtid atmosphere, but, thanks to their

folly, perfectly self-satisfied, so long as they can bawl and shout to

their terrified boys, and box, and beat, and flog them, and so indulge in

all kinds of ways their cruel disposition.’[344]

[Sidenote: The scholastic system.]

After criticising with less severity poets and authors, rhetoricians and

lawyers, Folly proceeded to re-echo the censure of Colet upon the dogmatic

system of the Schoolmen.

[Sidenote: Scholastic science.]

She ridiculed the logical subtlety which spent itself on splitting hairs

and disputing about nothing, and to which the modern followers of the

Schoolmen were so painfully addicted. She ridiculed, too, the prevalent

dogmatic philosophy and science, which having been embraced by the

Schoolmen, and sanctioned by ecclesiastical authority, had become a part

of the scholastic system. ‘With what ease do they dream and prate of the

creation of innumerable worlds, measuring sun, moon, stars, and earth as

though by a thumb and thread; rendering a reason for thunder, wind,

eclipses, and other inexplicable things; never hesitating in the least,

just as though they had been admitted into the secrets of creation, or as

though they had come down to us from the council of the Gods--_with whom,

and whose conjectures, Nature is mightily amused_!’[345]

[Sidenote: Scholastic theology.]

[Sidenote: Foolish questions.]

From dogmatic science Folly turned at once to dogmatic theology, and

proceeded to comment in her severest fashion on a class whom, she

observes, it might have been safest to pass over in silence--divines.[346]

‘Their pride and irritability are such (she said) that they will come down

upon me with their six hundred conclusions, and compel me to recant; and,

if I refuse, declare me a heretic forthwith.... They explain to their own

satisfaction the most hidden mysteries: how the universe was constructed

and arranged--through what channels the stain of original sin descends to

posterity--how the miraculous birth of Christ was effected--how in the

Eucharistic wafer the accidents can exist without a substance, and so

forth. And they think themselves equal to the solution of such questions

as these:--Whether ... God could have taken upon himself the nature of a

woman, a devil, an ass, a gourd, or a stone? And how in that case a gourd

could have preached, worked miracles, and been nailed to the cross? _What_

Peter would have consecrated if he had consecrated the Eucharist at the

moment that the body of Christ was hanging on the Cross? Whether at that

moment Christ could have been called a man? Whether we shall eat and drink

after the resurrection?’[347] In a later edition[348] Folly is made to say

further:--‘These Schoolmen possess such learning and subtlety that I fancy

even the Apostles themselves would need another Spirit, if they had to

engage with this new race of divines about questions of this kind. Paul

was able “to keep the faith,” but when he said, “Faith is the substance of

things hoped for,” he defined it very loosely. He was full of _charity_,

but he treated of it and defined it very illogically in the thirteenth

chapter of the first epistle to the Corinthians.... The Apostles knew the

mother of Jesus, but which of them demonstrated so philosophically as our

divines do in what way she was preserved from the taint of original sin?

Peter received the keys, and received them from Him who would not have

committed them to one unworthy to receive them, but I know not whether

_he_ understood (certainly he never touched upon the subtlety!) in what

way the _key of knowledge_ can be held by a man who _has no knowledge_.

They often baptized people, but they never taught what is the formal, what

the material, what the efficient, and what the ultimate cause of baptism;

they say nothing of its delible and indelible character. They worshipped

indeed, but _in spirit_, following no other authority than the gospel

saying, “God is a Spirit, and they that worship Him must worship Him in

spirit and in truth.” But it hardly seems to have been revealed to them,

that in one and the same act of worship the picture of Christ drawn with

charcoal on a wall was to be adored, as well as Christ _himself_....

Again, the Apostles spoke of “grace,” but they never distinguished between

“gratiam gratis datam,” and “gratiam gratificantem.” They preached

charity, but did not distinguish between charity “infused” and “acquired,”

nor did they explain whether it was an accident or a substance, created or

_un_created. They abhorred “_sin_,” but I am a fool if they could define

scientifically _what we call sin_, unless indeed they were inspired by the

spirit of the Scotists!’[349]

[Sidenote: There are some who hate the scholastic method.]

After pursuing the subject further, Folly suggests that an army of them

should be sent against the Turks, not in the hope that the Turks might be

converted by them so much as that Christendom would be relieved by their

absence, and then she is made quietly to say:[350]--‘You may think all

this is said in joke, but seriously, there are some, even amongst divines

themselves, versed in better learning, who are disgusted at these (as they

think) frivolous subtleties of divines. There are some who execrate, as a

kind of sacrilege, and consider as the greatest impiety, these attempts to

dispute with unhallowed lips and profane arguments about things so holy

that they should rather be adored than explained, to define them with so

much presumption, and to pollute the majesty of Divine theology with cold,

yea and sordid, words and thoughts. But, in spite of these, with the

greatest self-complacency divines go on spending night and day over their

foolish studies, so that they never have any leisure left for the perusal

of the gospels, or the epistles of St. Paul.’[351]

Finally, Folly exclaims, ‘Are they not the most happy of men whilst they

are treating of these things? whilst describing everything in the infernal

regions as exactly as though they had lived there for years? whilst

creating new spheres at pleasure, one, the largest and most beautiful,

being finally added, that, forsooth, happy spirits might have room enough

to take a walk, to spread their feasts, or to play at ball?’[352]

With this allusion to the ‘empyrean’ heavens of the Schoolmen, the satire

of Folly upon their dogmatic theology reaches its climax. And in the notes

added by Lystrius to a later edition, it was thus further explained in

terms which aptly illustrate the relation of theology and science in the

scholastic system:--

[Sidenote: Dogmatic theology and dogmatic science.]

‘The ancients believed ... in seven spheres--one to each planet--and to

these they added the one sphere of the fixed stars. Next, seeing that

these eight spheres had two motions, and learning from Aristotle that only

one of these motions affected all the spheres, they were compelled to

regard the other motion as _violent_. A superior sphere could not,

however, be moved in its violent motion by an inferior one. So outside all

they were obliged to place a ninth sphere, which they called “primum

mobile.” To these, in the next place, _divines added a tenth_, which they

called the “empyrean sphere,” as though the saints could not be happy

unless they had a heaven of their own!’[353]

And that the ridicule and satire of Erasmus were aimed at the dogmatism of

both science and theology is further pointed out in a previous note, where

the presumption of ‘neoteric divines’ in attempting to account for

everything, however mysterious, is compared to the way in which

‘astronomers, not being able to find out the cause of the various motions

of the heavens, constructed eccentrics and epicycles on the spheres.’[354]

Thus were the scholastic divines censured for just those faults to which

the eyes of Erasmus had been opened ten years before by his conversation

with Colet at Oxford, and words of more bitter satire could hardly have

been used than those now chosen.

[Sidenote: On Monks.]

_Monks_ came in for at least as rough a handling. There is perhaps no more

severe and powerful passage anywhere in the whole book than that in which

Folly is made to draw a picture of their appearance on the Judgment Day,

finding themselves with the goats on the left hand of the Judge, pleading

hard their rigorous observance of the rules and ceremonies of their

respective orders, but interrupted by the solemn question from the Judge,

‘Whence this race of new Jews? I know only of one law which is really

mine; but of that I hear nothing at all. When on earth, without mystery or

parable, I openly promised my Father’s inheritance, not to cowls, matins,

or fastings, but to the practice of faith and charity. I know you not, ye

who know nothing but your own works. Let those who wish to be thought more

holy than I am inhabit their newly-discovered heavens; and let those who

prefer their own traditions to my precepts, order new ones to be built for

them.’ When they shall hear this (continues Folly), ‘and see sailors and

waggoners preferred to themselves, how do you think they will look upon

each other?’[355]

[Sidenote: On kings, &c.]

Kings, princes, and courtiers next pass under review, and here again may

be traced that firm attitude of resistance to royal tyranny which has

already been marked in the conduct of More. If More in his congratulatory

verses took the opportunity of publicly asserting his love of freedom and

hatred of tyranny in the ears of the new King, his own personal friend, as

he mounted the throne, so Erasmus also, although come back to England full

of hope that in Henry VIII. he might find a patron, not only of learning

in general but of himself in particular, took this opportunity of putting

into the mouth of Folly a similar assertion of the sacred rights of the

people and the duties of a king:--

[Sidenote: Duties of princes.]

[Sidenote: Their practice.]

‘It is the duty (she suggests) of a true prince to seek the public and not

his own private advantage. From the laws, of which he is both the author

and executive magistrate, he must not himself deviate by a finger’s

breadth. He is responsible for the integrity of his officials and

magistrates.... But (continues Folly) by my aid princes cast such cares as

these to the winds, and care only for their own pleasure.... They think

they fill their position well if they hunt with diligence, if they keep

good horses, if they can make gain to themselves by the sale of offices

and places, if they can daily devise new means of undermining the wealth

of citizens, and raking it into their own exchequer, disguising the

iniquity of such proceedings by some specious pretence and show of

legality.’[356]

If the memory of Henry VII. was fresh in the minds of More and Erasmus, so

also his courtiers and tools, of whom Empson and Dudley were the

recognised types, were not forgotten. The cringing, servile, abject, and

luxurious habits of courtiers were fair game for Folly.

From this cutting review of kings, princes, and courtiers, the satire,

taking a still bolder flight, at length swooped down to fix its talons in

the very flesh of the Pope himself.

[Sidenote: On the Pope.]

The Oxford friends had some personal knowledge of Rome and her pontiffs.

When Colet was in Italy, the notoriously wicked Alexander VI. was Pope,

and what Colet thought of him has been mentioned. While Erasmus was in

Italy Julius II. was Pope. He had succeeded to the Papal chair in 1503.

[Sidenote: Pope Julius II.]

Julius II., in the words of Ranke, ‘devoted himself to the gratification

of that innate love of war and conquest which was indeed the ruling

passion of his life.... It was the ambition of Julius II. to extend the

dominions of the Church. He must therefore be regarded as the founder of

the Papal States.’[357] Erasmus, during his recent visit, had himself been

driven from Bologna when it was besieged by the Roman army, led by Julius

in person. He had written from Italy that ‘literature was giving place to

war, that Pope Julius was warring, conquering, triumphing, and openly

acting the Cæsar.’[358] Mark how aptly and boldly he now hit off his

character in strict accordance with the verdict of history, when in the

course of his satire he came to speak of popes. Folly drily observes

that--

[Sidenote: On the folly of war.]

‘Although in the gospel Peter is said to have declared, “_Lo, we have left

all, and followed thee_,” yet these Popes speak of “_St. Peter’s

patrimony_” as consisting of lands, towns, tributes, customs, lordships;

for which, when their zeal for Christ is stirred, they fight with fire and

sword at the expense of much Christian blood, thinking that in so doing

they are Apostolical defenders of Christ’s spouse, the Church, from her

enemies. As though indeed there were any enemies of the Church more

pernicious than impious Popes!... Further, as the Christian Church was

founded in blood, and confirmed by blood, and advanced by blood, now in

like manner, as though Christ were _dead_ and could no longer defend his

own, they take to the sword. And although war be a thing so savage that it

becomes wild beasts rather than men, so frantic that the poets feigned it

to be the work of the Furies, so pestilent that it blights at once all

morality, so unjust that it can be best waged by the worst of ruffians, so

impious that it has nothing in common with Christ, yet to the neglect of

everything else they devote themselves to war alone.’[359]

[Sidenote: Pope Julius II. and his fondness for war.]

And this bold satire upon the warlike passions of the Pope was made still

more direct and personal by what followed. To quote Ranke once

more:--‘_Old as Julius now was_, worn by the many vicissitudes of good and

evil fortune, and most of all by the consequences of intemperance and

licentious excess, in the extremity of age he still retained an

indomitable spirit. It was from the tumults of a general war that he hoped

to gain his objects. He desired to be the lord and master of the game of

the world. In furtherance of his grand aim he engaged in the boldest

operations, risking all to obtain all.’[360] Compare with this picture of

the old age of the warlike Pope the following words put by Erasmus into

the mouth of Folly, and printed and read all over Europe in the lifetime

of Julius himself!

‘Thus you may see even decrepid old men display all the vigour of youth,

sparing no cost, shrinking from no toil, stopped by nothing, if only they

can turn law, religion, peace, and all human affairs upside down.’[361]

In conclusion, Folly, after pushing her satire in other directions, was

made to apologise for the bold flight she had taken. If anything she had

said seemed to be spoken with too much loquacity or petulance, she begged

that it might be remembered that it was spoken by _Folly_. But let it be

remembered, also, she added, that

A fool oft speaks a seasonable truth.

She then made her bow, and descended the steps of her rostrum, bidding her

most illustrious votaries farewell--_valete, plaudite, vivite, bibite_!

[Sidenote: Editions of the ‘Praise of Folly.’]

Such was the ‘Praise of Folly,’ the manuscript of which was snatched from

Erasmus by More or one of his friends, and ultimately sent over to Paris

to be printed there, probably in the summer of 1511, and to pass within a

few months through no less than seven editions.[362]

[Sidenote: Erasmus settled at Cambridge.]

Meanwhile, after recruiting his shattered health under More’s roof,

spending a few months with Lord Mountjoy[363] and Warham,[364] and paying

a flying visit to Paris, it would seem that Erasmus, aided and encouraged

by his friends, betook himself to Cambridge to pursue his studies, hoping

to be able to eke out his income by giving lessons in the Greek language

to such pupils as might be found amongst the University students willing

to learn,--the chance fees of students being supplemented by the promise

of a small stipend from the University.[365]

It seems to have been taken for granted that the ‘new learning’ was now to

make rapid progress, having Henry VIII. for its royal patron, and Erasmus

for its professor of Greek at Cambridge.

The Oxford Reformers: John Colet, Erasmus, and Thomas More · 第 5 / 18 章