In all that regards the origin and first breaking out of the

Reformation, I wish to premise that all controversy on points of

dogma, all controversy on the merits or demerits of individuals, the

worthiness or unworthiness of persons, does not enter into the plan of

this work. My object is particularly to describe the various manner in

which the religious revolution commenced in the three or four

countries over which it exerted the most remarkable influence; as well

as the dissimilar form which it finally assumed in each of those

countries. I wish particularly to trace the influence of the

reformation on the progress of Christian states, and on European

literature and science; two things which constitute the main subject

of the last chapters of this Philosophy of History. But we must notice

briefly, and as far as is necessary to the elucidation of the subject,

the point of connection existing between persons and doctrines, and

the historical event which alone is the subject of our enquiries. In

the first place, it is evident of itself, that a man who accomplished

so mighty a Revolution in the human mind, and in his age, could have

been endowed with no common powers of intellect, and no ordinary

strength of character. Even his writings display an astonishing

boldness and energy of thought and language, united with a spirit of

impetuous, passionate, and convulsive enthusiasm. The latter qualities

are not indeed very compatible with a prudent, enlightened, and

dispassionate judgment. The opinion as to the use which was made of

those high powers of genius must of course vary with the religious

principles of each individual; but the extent of those intellectual

endowments themselves, and the strength and perseverance of character

with which they were united, must be universally admitted. Many who

did not adhere afterwards to the new opinions, still thought at the

commencement of the Reformation, that Luther was the real man for his

age, who had received a high vocation to accomplish the great work of

regeneration, the strong necessity of which was then universally felt;

for no well-thinking man then dreamed of a subversion of the ancient

faith. If at this great distance of time, we pick out of the writings

of this individual, many very harsh expressions, nay particular words,

which are not only coarse, but absolutely gross, nothing of any moment

can be proved or determined by such selections. Indeed the age in

general, not only in Germany, but in other very highly civilized

countries, was characterized by a certain coarseness in manners and

language, and by a total absence of all excessive polish and

over-refinement of character. But this coarseness would have been

productive of no very destructive effects; for intelligent men well

knew that the wounds of old abuses lay deep, and were ulcerated in

their very roots; and no one was therefore shocked if the knife,

destined to amputate abuses, cut somewhat deep. Luther acquired, too,

the respect of princes, even of those opposed to him. Thus when

shortly after the commencement of the Reformation, a general

insurrection of peasants broke out, which renewed all the excesses of

the Hussites; Luther so far from exciting the rebels, like some of the

new Gospellers, opposed them with all the powers of his commanding

eloquence, and all the weight of his high authority; for he was by no

means in politics an advocate for democracy, like Zuinglius and

Calvin, but he asserted the absolute power of princes, though he made

his advocacy subservient to his own religious views and projects. It

was by such conduct, and the influence which he thereby acquired, as

well as by the sanction of the civil power, that the Reformation was

promoted and consolidated. Without this, Protestantism would have sunk

into the lawless anarchy which marked the proceedings of the Hussites,

and to which the war of the peasants rapidly tended; and it would

inevitably have been suppressed, like all the earlier popular

commotions--for under the latter form, Protestantism may be said to

have sprung up several centuries before. And besides, none of the

other heads and leaders of the new religious party had the power, or

were in a situation to uphold the Protestant religion--its present

existence is solely and entirely the work and the deed of one man,

unique in his way, and who holds unquestionably a conspicuous place in

the history of the world. Much was staked on the soul of that man, and

this was in every respect a mighty and critical moment in the annals

of mankind, and the march of time. The real problem for the age would

have been to terminate this unhappy confusion of doctrines, that is to

say, that disorder and not unfrequent confusion in the relations of

the ecclesiastical and civil powers, (occasioned by the general state

of things in Europe, and by the circumstances which first promoted the

political and intellectual civilization of the West)--in a word, to

compose the old dispute between church and state, and bring it to a

just Christian settlement by a peaceful and amicable arrangement. Then

the many existing, though scattered, rays of true Christian piety,

humility, and self-denial, as well as the new discoveries in science

would have acquired a more intense and more extended power--an event

which was now entirely prevented by a great civil war between two

religious parties, and was not brought to a full accomplishment till a

much later period. But the total rejection of the traditions of the

past (and here was the capital vice and error of this Revolution),

rendered the evil incurable, and even for Biblical learning and

philology now so highly valued, the true key of interpretation, which

sacred tradition alone can furnish, was irretrievably lost, as the

sequel has but too well proved. And even if this were not the case,

how could mere learned institutes of Biblical philology, united with

popular schools of morality, constitute the spirit and essence of a

religion? This is no where so fully understood, and so deeply felt,

as in Protestant Germany at the present day--Germany, where lies the

root of Protestantism, its mighty centre, its all-ruling spirit, its

vital power, and its life-blood--Germany, where to supply the want of

the true spirit of religion, a remedy is sought sometimes in the

external forms of liturgy,[8] sometimes in the pompous apparatus of

Biblical philology and research, destitute of the true key of

interpretation[9]; sometimes in the empty philosophy of Rationalism,

and sometimes in the mazes of a mere interior Pietism.

Undoubtedly even within the pale of Catholicism, we meet occasionally

with individuals who adopt the same, or at least very similar systems,

who either give in to the principle of Rationalism, or to a false

theological illuminism (as in the recent period of Neology), or like

some of the Jansenists, indulge in the unsafe and illusive suggestions

of a sentimental mysticism. For the contests of two hostile parties

will not always prevent the imitation of defects, and the contagion of

errors; and this is only an additional reason, why in a work of this

kind, we should abstain from entering more closely and minutely into

the nature of these controversies. In contemplating the first steps of

this great Revolution; in considering the circumstances of that

period, we experience a feeling of regret, that the great problem of

that age, the arduous task which devolved on it, of accomplishing an

universal regeneration and real Reformation of the world, should have

remained unexecuted, from the very revolutionary turn which affairs

took--nay, that this task should not even have been understood or felt

by any of the leading characters of the time. The earlier disputes

between the spiritual and temporal powers had related to the dominion

over certain territories, or over Ecclesiastical property in general,

and especially to the jurisdiction of the state over the latter

species of property. The allurements which the confiscation of church

property held out to cupidity, must be ranked among the main causes

which contributed to the diffusion of Protestantism. Thus, for

instance, Prussia, the country of the Teutonic order, was now

converted into a secular dutchy; and in the interior of Germany, a

celebrated knight,[10] led away by the spirit of that age of feud,

invaded one of the Ecclesiastical electorates, thinking no doubt, that

that state, like every other Ecclesiastical domain, was the lawful

booty of the first comer. But independently of these partial changes

and minor transactions, (and in many Protestant countries, such as

England and Sweden, church property remained inviolate, and even

Episcopacy was retained,) the hostility of the German Reformers to the

church was of a different and more spiritual nature; and it was the

religious dignity of the priesthood which was more especially the

object of their destructive efforts. And this is the point, where

doctrinal controversy enters within the province of history; for the

priesthood stands or falls with faith in the sacred mysteries. The

rejection of these mysteries, by one half of the Protestant body in

Switzerland, France, England, and the Netherlands, Luther not only

discountenanced, but strenuously reprobated; yet it was only by a

subtle distinction he attempted to separate those mysteries from the

functions of the priesthood; and it was not difficult to foresee that

together with faith in the sacred mysteries, respect for the clergy

must sooner or later be destroyed, as indeed experience has

sufficiently demonstrated. For that great mystery of religion, on

which the whole dignity of the Christian priesthood depends, forms the

simple, but very deep internal keystone of all Christian doctrines;

and thus the rejection, or even the infringement of this dogma, shakes

the foundations of religion, and leads to its total overthrow. The

pacific conferences of learned and well-meaning men of both parties,

though often renewed, were not attended with real and ultimate success;

although sometimes, in looking at the language of such a man as the

mild Melancthon, we are almost perplexed to discover the few points

which do not coincide with the old Catholic doctrines--so nearly akin,

and almost identical do the two religious systems appear, when we

merely consider their separate parts. Equally fruitless were all those

honest attempts at pacification, incessantly made by the Emperor

Charles, who sought by his interim to create delay, while he indulged

a secret hope, that the agitated waves of anarchy,--all that mighty

tempest of opinion, would be allayed by time, and would finally be

stilled. But that interim has been of longer duration than was at

first calculated, and it still awaits the judgment of God for its

great day of termination.

When we consider Luther's original powers of mind, independently of

the use and employment which he made of those extraordinary powers,

(for even the greatest comet, though it should cover half the heavens

with the splendour of its light, can never possess, or be supposed to

possess, the sun's genial warmth;)--when I say, we consider the

intellectual endowments of this extraordinary man solely in

themselves; the boldness of his speculations and the vigour of his

eloquence will be found to form an epoch, not only (as is universally

acknowledged) in the history of the German language, but in the

progress of European science and European culture. After the first

period in the intellectual history of Europe, which I denominated the

scholastico-romantic epoch, and after the second, which I termed the

epoch of enthusiasm for Pagan Antiquity, and in which a Christian

simplicity of eloquence and a depth of scientific enquiry appear as

only happy and occasional exceptions; a third epoch now arose, which

from the general spirit of the age, and the tone of the writings,

which exerted a commanding influence over the times, cannot be

otherwise designated than as the era of a polemico-barbarous

eloquence. This rude polemic spirit which had its origin in the

Reformation, and in that concussion of faith, and consequently of all

thought and all science which Protestantism occasioned, continued,

down to the end of the seventeenth century, to prevail in the

controversial writings and philosophic speculations both of Germany

and England. This spirit was not incompatible with a sort of deep

mystical sensibility, and a certain original boldness of thought and

expression, such, for instance, as Luther's writings display; yet we

cannot at all regard in a favourable light the general spirit of that

intellectual epoch, or consider it as one by any means adapted to the

intellectual exigencies of that age. But with respect to the language

and literature of Germany, so far as these are of general interest, I

should wish to make one observation. Besides Thomas à Kempis, whom I

have already mentioned, I might cite several other religious writers

of the fifteenth century and even of an earlier period, who though

less known, were distinguished by a similar spirit, partly among those

who made use of the Latin language, then universally current, and

partly among those who, like Taulerus, for example, made the German

the vehicle of their thoughts. And indeed were we to compare the

gentle simplicity, the charming clearness of thought and expression

which reign in the works of these writers, with the productions of the

following age of barbarous polemic strife, we should then be furnished

with the best criterion for duly appreciating the earlier and the

later period.

With respect to those institutes of the church, which had early

devoted themselves to the task of the propagation of the gospel, or of

the defence and support of religion, and made this spiritual conflict

and holy engagement the business of their lives; it now happened, as

it had often occurred before, that the proper defenders of the church

arose at that moment, and adopted that course and mode of defence

which the circumstances of the church precisely required. The powerful

prelates of the old Episcopal sees, who had rendered such high and

imperishable services to the cause of European civilization, though

they might not be unfaithful to the original spirit of their calling,

and might be no strangers to science, were, however, much too

dependant on government, and mixed up in affairs of state. The more

popular and mendicant orders, from their very nature and character,

and their peculiar habits of life and modes of speech, were not always

calculated to exert due influence on government and the upper classes

of society, while their ardent zeal, unmindful of times and

circumstances, often transgressed the bounds of moderation. The great

want of the age was a religious order, which established in opposition

to Protestantism, should not be dependant on the state, but devoted

exclusively to the interests of the church; a religious order, which

well equipped with modern learning, science and accomplishment,

possessing a knowledge of the world, acquainted with the spirit of the

times, and pursuing the course which expediency dictated, with

prudence and circumspection, should undertake the defence of the

Catholic religion, and the propagation of the gospel in foreign

countries, and worthily and successfully prosecute this twofold

object. Such an order was the society of the Jesuits in its first

institution; and that among the founders and first members of this

order, there were men of undoubted piety and eminent sanctity, men

animated by the sublimest principles of Christian self-denial,

possessed of great intellectual endowments, and favoured by God with

high preternatural powers, no unprejudiced historical enquirer will

deny. Whether the reproaches which have been made to many members of

this order, of having exerted an undue political influence, and

displayed a spirit of intrigue and ambition in the history of this

period, be well-founded or not, I shall not stop to enquire; because

such charges at best can affect individuals only, and not the society,

whose very name indeed has become in our times the watch-word of party

strife and contention. The severest condemnation of the Jesuits

proceeds from a quarter where we clearly discern the most implacable

hostility to Christianity and to all religion; and this circumstance

ought to furnish the Jesuits with an additional claim to our good

opinion; but any judgment on the merits of this society, as this is a

question which more immediately regards the present age, is quite

foreign to the purpose of the present work. If some members of the

order adopted at this period those absolute maxims and principles of

policy and government, which in general characterized that age; and if

the writings of others were distinguished by that rude polemic tone

and spirit spoken of above, and which was equally characteristic of

those times; it would be unjust to lay to the charge of the order, or

even of particular members, failings and defects which were common to

the age, and a perfect exemption from which is the most rare of human

excellencies.

A violent insurrection can be put down only by forcible means; but

every system of terror, of whatsoever nature, is sure to provoke,

sooner or later, a re-action equally terrible. And if the dangerous

disease be checked by means merely external, and no healing remedy be

applied to the root and principle of the disorder, nor used to

renovate the impaired organs of life--if the fire be smothered in its

own flames--it will lie concealed beneath the ashes, and will burn in

secret, till the first casual and unlucky spark shall kindle it anew

into a fiercer blaze. Such, in my opinion, are the plain and obvious

principles which the historian should bear in mind, while passing in

review periods of revolution like the one under consideration;

principles, which even now are susceptible of no very remote

application.

In that first period of ferment which marked the birth of the

reformation, the revolt of the peasants had been put down with amazing

promptitude and vigour. It was but ten years later, when in the north

of Germany, a new insurrection broke out, which from its religious

complexion, seemed still more revolting, whose adherents sought to

establish on earth the invisible empire of God by fire and sword, and

whose new spiritual monarch, John of Leyden, made his triumphant entry

into Munster, amid many and dreadful excesses; till at last this

savage fanaticism was crushed, and (as invariably happens in similar

cases), met with a bloody end.

But the most singular phenomenon at this momentous epoch was Henry

VIII. of England: a prince who while he adhered to the Catholic

doctrines, and zealously asserted them against Luther, yet severed

his kingdom from the church, declared himself its spiritual head, and

by that monstrous and unchristian combination of the two powers,

appeared in the midst of Christendom, like the Caliph of England.

When, too, we take into consideration the private life of this Prince,

his endless series of divorces, and the execution of his Queens; his

conduct was a greater scandal to his contemporaries, and fixes a

deeper stain on the history of his age, than any other earlier example

in Italy, or elsewhere, several of which have been already mentioned.

The executions on account of religion which took place under Henry,

and which, as he was opposed to both Catholics and Protestants,

affected the two parties alike, were of a peculiarly odious and

blood-thirsty character. On this subject I wish to make one

observation. From the connection which then subsisted between church

and state, a case might easily arise, where a religious error would

become a political crime. When an insurrection originating in a

religious cause, breaks out and threatens the peace of society, like

the religious war of the Hussites, and the revolt of the German

peasants, no other resource remains but to put down force by force.

But when the first violence has subsided, another and a better and a

truly moral remedy should, if possible, be applied to the evil; and

this remedy was not always administered in a right, benign, and truly

Christian form. Strange and fanciful have been, in all times and

places, the offsprings of human error. Thus even in the most modern

times, and in a peaceful and civilized country, examples still occur,

where religious errors lead their unhappy dupes to violent attempts on

their own lives, or the lives of others; and a wise legislation and

humane judicature should rather treat these errors as mental diseases,

than judge them according to the rigid letter of criminal law. How

much more should not this be the case, when religious error is

confined to the sphere of speculation, and is not attended with any

practical consequences. It is often perhaps not easy to draw the line

of demarcation between measures of wise precaution against the

assaults of a dangerous fanaticism, and unchristian modes of

punishment. But certainly the criminal process of Ecclesiastical

tribunals at that period, was not only opposed to the spirit of

Christianity, but at utter variance with the express and ancient

canons of the church, and urgent admonitions of the Fathers, that the

church should strenuously avoid the shedding of blood. Men sought to

evade this wise and beautiful law, by abandoning all executions to the

secular arm; but except in the punishment of actual crimes, and in the

necessary defence against open insurrection, we must admit that the

spirit of this law was grievously violated. A vindictive criminal

jurisprudence, which was then dictated by the mutual rage of

contending parties, and which was made still more revolting to

Christian feelings by the religious colouring it assumed, remains a

stigma on that age; for it was the work not of one, but of both

religious parties, or to speak more properly, of members of both

parties. The commencement, indeed, of this great disorder--of this

great departure from the law of love--is to be found in the middle

age, during the strife of exasperated factions; but how small are

those beginnings when compared with the excesses of subsequent times.

When we hear the middle age called barbarous, we should remember that

that epithet applies with far greater force to the truly barbarous era

of the Reformation, and of the religious wars which that event

produced, and which continued down to the period when a sort of moral

and political pacification was re-established, apparently at least, in

society and in the human mind.

[7] The Prince.

[8] Schlegel here alludes to the Ordinances promulgated

a few years ago by the King of Prussia, for the reform

of the Protestant Liturgy.

[9] The author here refers to that mania for Biblical

criticism, long prevalent in Protestant Germany, and

which however it may inform our reason, and gratify a

laudable curiosity, is in itself no guide to the

knowledge of religious truth.--_Trans._

[10] Schlegel here alludes to Prince Albert of

Brandenburgh.

END OF LECTURE XV.

LECTURE XVI.

Further developement and extension of Protestantism, in the

period of the religious wars, and subsequently thereto.--On

the different results of those wars in the principal European

countries.

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