a powerful voice might well exclaim, "The ecclesiastical state is
opposed to God and to his glory. The people well know this, and but
too well do they show it, by the many songs, proverbs, and jests,
against priests, which are current among the lower classes, and by all
those caricatures of monks and priests which we see on all the walls,
and even on playing cards. Every man feels disgust when he sees or
when he hears of an ecclesiastic." These are Luther's words.[43]
[43] Da man an alle Wände, auf allerley zedel, zuletzt auf den
Kartenspielen, Pfaffen, und Munche malete.--(L. Ep. ii, 674.)
The evil had spread through all ranks. A spirit of error had been sent
to men, corruption of manners kept pace with corruption of faith, and
a mystery of iniquity lay like an incubus on the enslaved Church of
Jesus Christ.
There was another consequence which necessarily resulted from the
oblivion into which the fundamental doctrine of the gospel had fallen.
Ignorance was the companion of corruption. The priests having taken
into their own hands the distribution of a salvation which belongs
only to God, deemed this a sufficient title to the respect of the
people. What occasion had they to study sacred literature? Their
business was not to expound the Scriptures, but to give diplomas of
indulgence--a ministry which called not for the laborious acquisition
of extensive knowledge.
In the rural districts, says Wimpheling, the persons selected for
preachers were miserable creatures, who had been previously raised
from beggary, cast-off cooks, musicians, huntsmen, grooms, and still
worse.[44]
[44] Apologia pro Rep. Christ.
The higher clergy were often sunk in deep ignorance. A Bishop of
Dunfeld congratulated himself that he had never learned either Greek
or Hebrew, while the monks contended that all heresies sprung out of
these languages, and especially out of the Greek. "The New Testament,"
said one of them, "is a book full of briers and serpents. "The
Greek," continued he, "is a new language recently invented, and of it
we ought specially to beware. As to Hebrew, my dear brethren, it is
certain that all who learn it, that very instant become Jews." We
quote from Heresbach, a friend of Erasmus, and a respectable writer.
Thomas Linacer, a learned and celebrated ecclesiastic, had never read
the New Testament. In the last days of his life, (in 1524,) he caused
a copy of it to be brought, but immediately dashed it from him with an
oath, because, on opening it, he had lighted on these words, "I say
unto you, Swear not at all." Now he was a great swearer. "Either this
is not the gospel," said he, "or we are not Christians."[45] Even the
Theological Faculty of Paris did not hesitate at this time to say, in
presence of the Parliament, "It is all over with religion if the study
of Greek and Hebrew is allowed." If, among ecclesiastics, there were a
scattered few who had made some attainments, it was not in sacred
literature. The Ciceronians of Italy affected great contempt for the
Bible because of its style. Men calling themselves priests of the
Church of Jesus Christ, translated the writings of holy men inspired
by the Spirit of God into the style of Virgil and Horace, in order to
adapt them to the ears of good society. Cardinal Bembo, instead of
_the Holy Spirit_, wrote _the breath of the heavenly zephyr_; instead
of to _forgive sins_,--to _bend the manes and the Sovereign God_; and
instead of _Christ the Son of God_,--_Minerva sprung from the forehead
of Jupiter_. Having one day found the respectable Sadolet engaged in
translating the Epistle to the Romans, he said to him, "Leave off this
child's play; such trifling ill becomes a man of gravity."[46]
[45] Müller's Reliq. tom. iii, p. 253.
[46] Felleri, Mon. ined., p. 400.
Such are some of the consequences of the system under which
Christendom then groaned. Our picture, undoubtedly, proves both the
corruption of the Church and the necessity of a Reformation; and it
was this we proposed in sketching it. The vital doctrines of
Christianity had almost entirely disappeared, and with them the light
and life which constitute the essence of genuine religion. The
strength of the Church had been wasted, and its body, enfeebled and
exhausted, lay stretched almost without life, over the whole extent
which the Roman empire had occupied.
CHAP. IV.
Imperishable nature of Christianity--Two Laws of
God--Apparent Power of Rome--Hidden
Opposition--Decay--Threefold Opposition--Kings and
Subjects--The Pope judged in Italy--Discoveries by Kings and
Subjects--Frederick the Wise--His Moderation--His
Anticipation.
The evils which then afflicted Christendom, viz., superstition,
infidelity, ignorance, vain speculation, and corruption of
manners--all natural fruits of the human heart--were not new upon the
earth. Often had they figured in the history of states. In the East,
especially, various religions which had had their day of glory, but
had become enervated, had been attacked by them, and, yielding to the
assault, had fallen under it, never again to rise. Is Christianity to
experience the same fate? Will she be destroyed like these ancient
popular religions? Will the blow which gave them death be strong
enough to deprive her of life? Is there nothing that can save her?
Will those hostile powers that now oppress her, and which have already
overthrown so many other forms of worship, be able to seat themselves
without opposition on the ruins of the Church of Jesus Christ?
No! There is in Christianity what there was not in any of those
popular religions. It does not, like them, present certain abstract
ideas, interwoven with traditions and fables, destined to fall, sooner
or later, under the attacks of human reason. It contains pure truth,
founded on facts capable of standing the scrutiny of every upright and
enlightened mind. Christianity does not aim merely at exciting certain
vague religious sentiments, which, when they have once lost their
charm, cannot be again revived. Its end is to satisfy, and it, in
fact, does satisfy, all the religious wants of human nature, whatever
the degree of refinement to which it may have attained. It is not the
work of man, whose labours fade and are effaced; it is the work of
God, who sustains what he creates; and the pledge of its duration is
the promise of its divine Head.
It is impossible that human nature can ever rise so high as to look
down on Christianity, or if, for a time, human nature do think herself
able to dispense with it, it soon appears with renewed youth and life,
as alone fit for curing souls. Degenerate nations then return with new
ardour to those ancient, simple, and powerful truths, which, in the
hour of their infatuation, they had turned from with disdain.
Christianity, in fact, displayed in the sixteenth century the same
regenerating power which it had exerted in the first. After fifteen
centuries the same truths produced the same results. In the days of
the Reformation, as in those of Paul and Peter, the Gospel, with
invincible force, overthrew the mightiest obstacles. Its sovereign
power was manifested from north to south among nations differing most
widely from each other in manners, character, and intellectual
development. Then, as in the days of Stephen and James, it lighted up
the fire of enthusiasm and devotedness in nations which seemed almost
extinguished, and exalted them even to the height of martyrdom.
How was this revival of the Church and of the world accomplished?
The observer might then have seen the operation of two laws by which
God governs the world at all times.
First, as He has ages to act in, he begins his preparations leisurely,
and long before the event which He designs to accomplish.
Then, when the time is come, he produces the greatest results by the
smallest means. It is thus he acts in nature and in history. When he
wishes an immense tree to grow, he deposits a little grain in the
earth; and, when he wishes to renew his Church, he employs the
humblest instrument to accomplish what emperors and all the learned
and eminent in the Church were unable to perform. By and by we will
search for and we will discover this little seed which a Divine hand
deposited in the earth in the days of the Reformation; but at present,
let us endeavour to ascertain the various means by which God prepared
this great event.
At the period when the Reformation was ready to burst forth, Rome
appeared to be in peace and safety. One would even have said that
nothing could disturb her triumph after the great victories which she
had gained. General Councils--those Upper and Lower Houses of
Catholicity--had been subdued. The Vaudois and the Hussites had been
suppressed. No University, with the exception, perhaps, of that of
Paris, which sometimes raised its voice when its kings gave the
signal, doubted the infallibility of the oracles of Rome. Each seemed
to have accepted his alloted share in her power. The higher clergy
deemed it better to give a distant chief the tenth part of their
revenues, and quietly consume the other nine, than to hazard all for
an independence which would cost much and yield little. The lower
clergy, decoyed by the perspective of rich benefices, which ambition
made them fancy and discover in the distance, were willing, by a
little slavery, to realise the flattering hopes which they
entertained. Besides, they were almost everywhere so oppressed by the
chiefs of the hierarchy, that they could scarcely struggle under their
powerful grasp, far less rise boldly and hold up their heads. The
people knelt before the Roman altar, and kings themselves, though they
began in secret to despise the Bishop of Rome, durst not venture to
attack his power with a hand which the age would have deemed
sacrilegious.
But opposition, if it seemed externally to have slackened, or even
ceased, when the Reformation burst forth, had more inward strength. A
nearer view of the edifice will disclose to us more than one symptom
which presaged its downfall. General Councils, though vanquished, had
diffused their principles throughout the Church, and carried division
into the enemy's camp. The defenders of the hierarchy were divided
into two parties, viz., those who maintained the system of absolute
Papal domination, on the principles of Hildebrand, and those who were
desirous of a constitutional Papal government, offering guarantees and
giving liberty to the churches.
Nor was this the whole. Faith in the infallibility of the Roman bishop
was greatly shaken among all parties; and, if no voice was raised in
opposition to it, it was because every one rather desired anxiously to
retain the little faith in it which he still had. The least shock was
dreaded, because it might overturn the edifice. Christendom held in
its breath; but it was to prevent a disaster by which its own
existence might have been endangered. From the moment when man
trembles at the thought of abandoning a long venerated belief, it has
lost its influence over him, and even the appearance of respect which
he may be desirous to keep up will not be long maintained. The
Reformation had been gradually prepared in three different worlds--the
political, the ecclesiastical, and the literary. Political bodies,
private Christians, and theologians, the literary and the learned, all
contributed to the revolution of the sixteenth century. Let us take a
survey of this triple opposition, concluding with the literary class,
though, at the period immediately preceding the revolution, it was
perhaps the most powerful of all.
First, among political bodies, Rome had lost much of its ancient
credit. Of this the Church herself was the primary cause; for,
properly speaking, it was not the errors and superstitions which she
had introduced into Christianity that gave the fatal blow. Before
Christendom could have been able to condemn her on this account, it
must have stood higher than the Church, in respect of intellectual and
religious development. But there was a class of things which the
laity well understood, and it was by these they judged the Church. She
had become of the "earth, earthy." The sacerdotal empire, which
tyrannised over the nations, existed solely by the illusions of its
subjects; and having a halo for its crown, had forgotten its nature,
and left heaven, with his spheres of light and glory, to plunge into
the vulgar interests of burghers and princes. Though representing
those who are born of the Spirit, the priests had exchanged the Spirit
for the flesh. They had abandoned the treasures of knowledge, and the
spiritual power of the Word, for the brute force and tinkling of the
age.
The thing happened naturally enough. At first the Church pretended
that her object was to defend spiritual order. But in order to protect
it from the opposition and assaults of the people, she had resorted to
earthly means, to vulgar weapons, which a false prudence had induced
her to take up. When the Church had once begun to handle such weapons,
her spirituality was at an end. Her arm could not become temporal
without rendering her heart temporal also. The appearance presented
soon became the reverse of what it had been at the outset. At first
she had thought proper to employ the earth in defending heaven; now
she employed heaven to defend the earth. Theocratic forms became in
her hands merely a mean of accomplishing worldly interests. The
offerings which the people laid at the feet of the sovereign pontiff
of Christendom were expended in maintaining the luxury of his court
and the soldiers of his armies. His spiritual power served him as a
ladder on which to climb, and then put the kings and nations of the
earth under his feet. The charm broke, and the power of the Church was
lost as soon as the men of the world could say, "She is become as one
of us."
The great were the first to examine the titles of this imaginary
power.[47] This examination might, perhaps, have been sufficient to
overthrow Rome; but, happily for her, the education of princes was
everywhere in the hands of her adepts. These inspired their august
pupils with sentiments of veneration for the Roman pontiff. The rulers
of the people grew up within the sanctuary, and princes of ordinary
capacity could never entirely quit it. Several even had no other
ambition than to be found in it at the hour of death. They preferred
to die under a cassock rather than a crown.
[47] Adrien Baillet. Hist. des Demêlés de Boniface VIII avec Philippe
le Bel.--(Paris, 1708.)
Italy, that apple of discord in Europe, perhaps contributed most to
open the eyes of kings. Having occasion to communicate with popes on
matters which concerned the temporal prince of the States of the
Church, and not the Bishop of bishops, they were greatly astonished
when they saw them ready to sacrifice rights which appertained to the
pontiff, in order to secure certain advantages to the prince. They
discovered that these pretended organs of truth had recourse to all
the petty wiles of politics, to deceit, dissimulation, and
perjury.[48] Then, at length, the bandage, which education had tied
upon the eyes of princes, fell off. Then wily Ferdinand of Arragon
tried stratagem against stratagem. Then the impetuous Louis XII caused
a medal to be struck with this inscription, "Perdam Babylonis
nomen."[49] And honest Maximilian of Austria, grieved to the heart on
learning the treachery of Leo X, declared openly, "Henceforth this
pope, too, is to me nothing better than a villain; now I can say that
throughout my life not one pope has kept faith with me, or been true
to his word. If it please God, I hope that this one will be the
last."[50]
[48] Guicciardini. History of Italy.
[49] I will destroy the name of Babylon.
[50] Scultet. Annal. ad. an. 1520.
Kings and states began, moreover, to feel impatient under the heavy
burden which the popes imposed on them, and to demand that Rome should
free them from contributions and annats which wasted their resources.
Already had France opposed Rome with the pragmatic sanction, and the
heads of the empire claimed to share in it. In 1511 the emperor took
part in the Council of Pisa, and had even at one time an idea of
seizing the popedom for himself. But, among the rulers of the people
none were so useful to the Reformation as the prince in whose states
it was to commence.
Of all the Electors of that period, the most powerful was Frederick of
Saxony, surnamed the Wise. Having succeeded, in 1487, to the
hereditary states of his family, he had received the electoral dignity
from the emperor, and in 1493 undertook a pilgrimage to Jerusalem,
where he was dubbed "Knight of the Holy Sepulchre." His power and
influence, his riches and liberality, raised him above all his equals.
God chose him to be the tree under whose shelter the seed of truth
might be able to push forth its first blade, without being uprooted by
storms from without.[51]
[51] "Qui prœ multis pollebat princibus aliis auctoritate, opibus,
potentia, liberalitate, et magnificentia.--(Cochlœns. Acta 1. p. 3.)
He surpassed many other princes in authority, wealth, power,
liberality, and magnificence.
No man was better fitted for this noble service. Frederick possessed
the general esteem, and, in particular, had the entire confidence of
the emperor, whom he even represented in his absence. His wisdom
consisted not in the dexterous arts of a wily politician, but in an
enlightened and foreseeing prudence, the first maxim of which was
never to offer violence, from interested motives, to the laws of
honour and religion.
At the same time, he felt in his heart the power of the word of God.
One day when Staupitz, the Vicar-General, was with him, the
conversation turned upon those who entertained the people with vain
declamation. "All discourses," said the Elector, "which are filled
only with subtleties and human traditions, are wondrously cold,
nerveless, and feeble. It is impossible to advance one subtlety which
another subtlety cannot destroy. The Holy Scriptures alone are clothed
with such power and majesty, that, destroying all our learned logical
contrivances, they press us home, and constrain us to exclaim, 'Never
man so spake.'" Staupitz having signified that he was entirely of this
opinion, the Elector shook him cordially by the hand, and said,
"Promise me that you will always think so."*
Frederick was just the prince required at the outset of the
Reformation. Too much feebleness on the part of its friends might have
allowed it to be strangled, while too much haste might have caused the
storm, which at the very first began with hollow murmuring sound to
gather against it, to burst too soon. Frederick was moderate but
strong. He had that Christian virtue which God always requires in
those who would adore his ways--he waited upon God. He put in practice
the wise counsel of Gamaliel, "If this counsel or this work be of men,
it will come to nought; but if it be of God ye cannot overthrow it."
Acts, v, 38, 39. "Matters," said this prince to Spengler of Nuremberg,
one of the most enlightened men of his time; "matters are come to such
a point, that there is nothing more which men can do in them; God
alone must act. To His mighty hand, therefore, we commit these great
events, which are too difficult for us." Providence made an admirable
choice in selecting such a prince to protect his work in its infancy.
CHAP. V.
The People--The Empire--Providential Preparations--Impulse
of the Reformation--Peace--Middle Classes--National
Character--Yoke of the Pope--State of the Empire--Opposition
to Rome--The Burghers--Switzerland--Valour--Liberty--Small
Cantons--Italy--Obstacles to
Reform--Spain--Obstacles--Portugal--France--Preparations--Hopes
Deceived--Netherlands--England--Scotland--The
North--Russia--Poland--Bohemia--Hungary.
The discoveries made by kings had gradually extended to their
subjects. The wise began to habituate themselves to the idea that the
Bishop of Rome was only a man, and sometimes even a very bad man. They
had a suspicion that he was no holier than the bishops, whose
reputation was very equivocal. The licentiousness of the popes roused
the indignation of Christendom, and hatred of the Roman name rankled
in the heart of the nations.[52]
[52] "Odium Romani nominis, penitus infixum esse multarum gentium
animis opinor, ob ea, quæ vulgo de moribus ejus urbis jactantur."
(Erasm. Ep., lib. xii, p. 634.) The hatred of the Roman name, which
rankles in the minds of many nations, is owing, I suspect, to the
prevailing rumours respecting the morals of μετανοιαthat city.
Numerous causes concurred in facilitating the deliverance of the
different countries of the West. Let us glance at these countries.
The empire was a confederation of different states, with an emperor at
their head, each state having supreme authority within its own
territory. The Imperial Diet, composed of all the princes or sovereign
states, legislated for the whole Germanic body. It belonged to the
emperor to ratify the laws, decrees, or resolutions of the assembly,
and to see them applied and carried into execution, while the seven
most powerful princes under the title of Electors, had the disposal of
the imperial crown.
The north of Germany, inhabited chiefly by the ancient Saxon race, had
acquired the greatest degree of freedom. The emperor, incessantly
attacked by the Turks in his hereditary possessions, was obliged to
court those princes and bold nations whose aid was then necessary to
him. Free towns in the north, west, and south of the empire, had, by
their trade, their manufactures, and exertions of every description,
risen to a high degree of prosperity, and thereby of independence, but
the powerful house of Austria, then invested with the imperial crown,
held the greater part of the southern states of Germany under its
control, and closely watched their movements. It was preparing to
extend its dominion over the whole empire, and even beyond it, when
the Reformation interposed a mighty barrier to its encroachments, and
saved the independence of Europe.
As Judea, when Christianity arose, was in the centre of the ancient
world, so Germany was in the centre of Christendom, looking at once
toward the Netherlands, England, France, Switzerland, Italy, Hungary,
Bohemia, Poland, Denmark, and all the North. It was in the heart of
Europe that the principle of life was to be developed, and the
beatings of this heart were to circulate through all the arteries of
the body the noble blood which was to give animation to all its
members.
The particular constitution which the empire had received conformably
to the dispensation of Providence, favoured the propagation of new
ideas. Had Germany been a monarchy properly so called, like France or
England, the arbitrary will of the monarch might have been able long
to arrest the progress of the gospel. But it was a confederation.
Truth attacked in one state might be received with favour in another.
The internal peace which Maximilian had just secured for the empire
was not less favourable to the Reformation. For a long time the
numerous members of the Germanic body had taken pleasure in tearing
each other. Nought had been seen but trouble and discord, war
incessantly renewed, neighbour against neighbour, town against town,
and noble against noble. Maximilian had given a solid basis to public
order, by erecting the Imperial Chamber, with power to decide in all
questions between different states. The inhabitants of Germany, after
all their troubles and disquietudes, saw the commencement of a new era
of security and repose. Nevertheless, when Luther appeared, Germany
still presented to the observing eye that kind of motion which
agitates the sea after long protracted storms. The calm was uncertain.
More than one example of this will be seen as we proceed. By giving an
entirely new impulse to the Germanic nations, the Reformation put an
end for ever to all the former causes of agitation. Destroying the
system of barbarism, which had till then been paramount, it put Europe
in possession of a new system.
Christianity had, at the same time, exercised a peculiar influence on
Germany. The middle classes had made rapid improvement. Throughout the
different quarters of the empire, and more especially in the free
towns, were numerous institutions well fitted to improve the great
mass of the population. In these arts flourished. The burghers,
devoting themselves in security to the calm toils and sweet relations
of social life, became more and more accessible to knowledge, and in
this way were continually acquiring new influence and authority. The
foundation of the Reformation in Germany was not to be laid by
magistrates, who must often shape their conduct according to political
exigencies, nor by nobles fired with the love of military glory, nor
by a greedy and ambitious clergy, working religion for profit, as if
it were their exclusive property. The task was reserved for the
citizens, the commonalty, the great body of the people.
The national character of the Germans was specially fitted to adapt
itself to a religious Reformation. No spurious civilisation had
enervated it. The precious seed, which the fear of God deposits in the
bosom of a people, had not been thrown to the winds. Ancient manners
yet existed, displaying themselves in that integrity and fidelity,
that love of labour, that perseverance, that serious temper, which is
still to be seen, and gives presage of greater success to the gospel,
than the jeering levity, or boorish temper of some other European
nations.
The people of Germany were indebted to Rome for the great instrument
of modern civilisation, viz., faith, polish, learning, laws, all save
their courage and their arms, had come from the sacerdotal city, and,
in consequence, Germany had ever after been in close alliance with the
Papacy. The one was a kind of spiritual conquest by the other, and we
all know to what purposes Rome has invariably applied her conquests.
Nations which were in possession of faith and civilisation before a
Roman pontiff existed, always maintained in regard to him, a greater
measure of independence. Still the more thorough the subjugation of
the German, the more powerful will the reaction be when the period of
awakening shall arrive. When Germany does open her eyes, she will
indignantly break loose from the chains which have so long held her
captive. The bondage she has had to endure will make her more sensible
of her need of deliverance; and freedom, and bold champions of the
truth, will come forth from this house of hard labour and bondage, in
which all her people have, for ages, been confined.
There was, at that time, in Germany, what the politicians of our days
call a "see-saw system." When the emperor was of a resolute character,
his power increased; when, on the contrary, he was of a feeble
character, the influence and power of the princes and electors were
enlarged. Never had these felt themselves stronger in regard to their
chief than in the time of Maximilian, at the period of the
Reformation; and as he took part against it, it is easy to understand
how favourable the circumstance of his comparative weakness must have
been to the propagation of the gospel.
Moreover, Germany was tired of what the Romans derisively styled "the
patience of the Germans." They had indeed, shown much patience from
the days of Louis of Bavaria, when the emperors laid down their arms,
and the tiara was placed, without opposition, above the crown of the
Cæsars.
The contest, however, had done little more than change its place, by
descending several steps. The same struggles which the emperors and
popes had exhibited to the world were soon renewed on a smaller scale,
in all the towns of Germany, between the bishops and the magistrates.
The burghers took up the sword which the emperors had allowed to drop
from their hands. As early as 1329 the burghers of Frankfort on the
Oder had intrepidly withstood all their ecclesiastical superiors.
Excommunicated for having continued faithful to the Margrave Louis,
they had been left for twenty-eight years without mass, baptism,
marriage, or Christian burial; and, when the monks and priests made
their re-entry, they laughed at it as a comedy or farce,--sad
symptoms, doubtless, but symptoms of which the clergy were the cause.
At the period of the Reformation this opposition between the
magistrates and ecclesiastics had increased. The privileges of the
former, and the temporal pretensions of the latter, were constantly
causing jostling and collision between the two bodies.
But burgomasters, councillors, and secretaries of towns, were not the
only persons among whom Rome and the clergy found opponents. Wrath was
at the same time fermenting among the people, and broke out as early
as 1502, when the peasantry, indignant at the grinding yoke of their
ecclesiastical sovereigns, entered into a combination which goes under
the name of the Shoe-Alliance.
Thus everywhere, both in the upper and lower regions of society, a
grumbling sound was heard,--a precursor of the thunder which was soon
to burst. Germany seemed ripe for the work which the sixteenth century
had received as its task. Providence, which moves leisurely, had every
thing prepared, and the very passions which God condemns were to be
overruled by his mighty hand for the accomplishment of his designs.
Let us see how other nations were situated.
Thirteen small republics, placed with their confederates in the centre
of Europe among mountains, forming, as it were, its citadel, contained
a brave and simple people. Who would have gone to those obscure
valleys in quest of persons who, with the sons of Germany, might be
the deliverers of the Church? Who would have thought that petty
unknown towns, just emerging from barbarism, hid behind inaccessible
mountains, at the extremity of nameless lakes, would, in point of
Christianity, take precedence of Jerusalem, Antioch, Ephesus, Corinth,
and Rome? Nevertheless, it so pleased Him who wills that one spot of
earth be watered with dew, and that another spot on which the rain has
not descended shall remain parched, (Amos.)
There were other circumstances besides which might have been expected
to throw numerous obstacles in the way of the Reformation among the
Helvetic Republics. If, in a monarchy, the impediments of power were
to be dreaded, the thing to be feared in a democracy was the
precipitation of the people.
But Switzerland had also had its preparations. It was a wild but noble
tree, which had been preserved in the bosom of the valleys, in order
that a valuable fruit might one day be engrafted on it. Providence had
diffused among this new people principles of independence and freedom,
destined to display their full power whenever the signal for contest
with Rome should be given. The pope had given the Swiss the title of
Protectors of the Liberty of the Church; but they seem to have taken
the honourable appellation in a very different sense from the pontiff.
If their soldiers guarded the pope in the vicinity of the ancient
Capitol, their citizens, in the bosom of the Alps, carefully guarded
their religious liberties against the assaults of the pope and the
clergy. Ecclesiastics were forbidden to apply to a foreign
jurisdiction. The "Letter of the Priests" (Pfaffenbrief, 1370) was an
energetic protestation of Swiss liberty against the abuses and power
of the clergy. Amongst these states, Zurich was distinguished for its
courageous opposition to the pretensions of Rome. Geneva, at the other
extremity of Switzerland, was at war with its bishop. These two towns
particularly signalised themselves in the great struggle which we have
undertaken to describe.
But if the Swiss towns, accessible to every kind of improvement, were
among the first to fall in with the movement of reform, it was
otherwise with the inhabitants of the mountains. The light had not yet
travelled so far. These cantons, the founders of Swiss freedom, proud
of the part which they had performed in the great struggle for
independence, were not readily disposed to imitate their younger
brethren of the plains. Why change the faith with which they had
chased Austria, and which had by its altars consecrated all the scenes
of their triumph? Their priests were the only enlightened guides to
whom they could have recourse. Their worship and their festivals gave
a turn to the monotony of their tranquil life, and pleasantly broke
the silence of their peaceful retreats. They remained impervious to
religious innovation.
On crossing the Alps, we find ourselves in that Italy which was in the
eyes of the majority the Holy Land of Christendom. Whence should
Europe have expected the good of the Church if not from Italy, if not
from Rome? Might not the power which by turns raised so many different
characters to the pontifical chair, one day place in it a pontiff who
would become an instrument of blessing to the heritage of the Lord? Or
if pontiffs were to be despaired of, were there not bishops and
councils, who might reform the Church? Nothing good comes out of
Nazareth; but out of Jerusalem, out of Rome!... Such might be the
thoughts of men, but God thought otherwise. He said, "Let him who is
filthy, be filthy still," (Rev., xxii,) and abandoned Italy to her
iniquities. This land of ancient glory was alternately a prey to
intestine wars and foreign invasion. The wiles of politics, the
violence of faction, the turmoil of war, seemed to have sole sway, and
to banish far away both the gospel and its peace.
Besides, Italy, broken, dismembered, and without unity, seemed little
fitted to receive a common impulse. Each frontier was a new barrier
where truth was arrested.
And if the truth was to come from the North, how could the Italians,
with a taste so refined, and a society in their eyes so exquisite,
condescend to receive any thing at the hands of barbarous Germans?
Were men who admired the cadence of a sonnet more than the majesty and
simplicity of the Scriptures, a propitious soil for the seed of the
divine word? But be this as it may, in regard to Italy, Rome was still
to continue Rome. Not only did the temporal power of the popes dispose
the different Italian factions to purchase their alliance and favour
at any price, but in addition to this, the universal ascendancy of
Rome presented various attractions to the avarice and vanity of the
ultramontane states. The moment that the question of emancipating the
rest of the world from Rome should be raised, Italy would again become
Italy; domestic quarrels would not prevail to the advantage of a
foreign system. Attacks on the head of the Peninsular family would at
once revive affections and common interests which had long been in
abeyance.
The Reformation had therefore little chance in that quarter. And yet
there did exist, beyond the mountains, individuals who had been
prepared to receive the gospel light, and Italy was not entirely
disinherited.
Spain had what Italy had not--a grave, noble, and religiously-disposed
people. At all times has it numbered men of piety and learning among
its clergy, while it was distant enough from Rome to be able easily to
shake off the yoke. There are few nations where one might have more
reasonably hoped for a revival of that primitive Christianity which
Spain perhaps received from St. Paul himself. And yet Spain did not
raise her head among the nations. She was destined to fulfil the
declaration of Divine wisdom, "The first shall be last." Various
circumstances led to this sad result.
Spain, in consequence of its isolated position, and its distance from
Germany, must have felt only slight shocks of the great earthquake
which so violently heaved the empire. It was moreover, engrossed with
treasures very different from those which the word of God then offered
to the nations. The new world eclipsed the eternal world. A land
altogether new, and apparently silver and gold, inflamed all
imaginations. An ardent desire for riches left no room in a Spanish
heart for nobler thoughts. A powerful clergy, with scaffolds and
treasures at its disposal, ruled the Peninsula. The Spaniard willingly
yielded a servile obedience to his priests, who, disburdening him of
the prior claims of spiritual occupation, left him free to follow his
passions, and to run the way of riches, discoveries, and new
continents. Victorious over the Moors, Spain had, at the expence of
her noblest blood, pulled down the crescent from the walls of Grenada,
and many other cities, and, in its place, planted the cross of Jesus
Christ. This great zeal for Christianity, which seemed to give bright
hopes, turned against the truth. Why should Catholic Spain, which had
vanquished infidelity, not oppose heresy? How should those who had
chased Mahomet from their lovely country allow Luther to penetrate
into it? Their kings did even more. They fitted out fleets against the
Reformation, and in their eagerness to vanquish it, went to seek it in
Holland and England. But these attacks aggrandised the nations against
which they were directed, and their power soon crushed Spain. In this
way, these Catholic regions lost, through the Reformation, even that
temporal prosperity which was the primary cause of their rejection of
the spiritual liberty of the gospel. Nevertheless, it was a brave and
generous people that dwelt beyond the Pyrenees. Several of their noble
sons with the same ardour, but with more light than those who had shed
their blood in Moorish dungeons, came to lay their life, as an
offering, on the faggot piles of the Inquisition.
It was nearly the same with Portugal as with Spain. Emmanuel the Happy
gave it an age of gold, which must have unfitted it for the
self-denial which the gospel demands. The Portuguese, rushing into the
recently discovered routes to the East Indies and Brazil, turned their
backs on Europe and the Reformation.
Few nations might have been thought more disposed than France to
receive the gospel. Almost all the intellectual and spiritual life of
the middle ages centred in her. One would have said that the paths
were already beaten for a great manifestation of the truth. Men who
were the most opposed to each other, and who had the greatest
influence on the French people, felt that they had some affinity with
the Reformation. St. Bernard had given an example of that heart-felt
faith, that inward piety, which is the finest feature of the
Reformation, while Abelard had introduced into the study of theology
that reasoning principle, which, incapable of establishing truth, is
powerful in destroying falsehood. Numerous heretics, so called, had
rekindled the flames of the word of God in the French provinces. The
University of Paris had withstood the Church to the face, and not
feared to combat her. At the beginning of the fifteenth century, the
Clemangis and the Gersons had spoken out boldly. The pragmatic
sanction had been a great act of independence, and promised to prove
the palladium of the Gallican liberties. The French nobility, so
numerous and so jealous of their precedence, and who, at this period,
had just seen their privileges gradually suppressed to the extension
of the influence of the crown, must have felt favourably disposed
towards a religious revolution, the effect of which might be to
restore a portion of the independence which they had lost. The people,
lively, intelligent and open to generous emotions, were accessible to
the truth in a degree as great, if not greater, than any other people.
The Reformation might have promised to be, in this nation, the birth
that was to crown the long travail of many ages. But the Church of
France, which seemed for so many generations to have been rushing in
the same direction, turned suddenly round at the moment of the
Reformation, and took quite a contrary direction. Such was the will of
Him who guides nations and their rulers. The prince who then sat in
the chariot and held the reins, and who, as a lover of letters, might
have been thought likely to be the first to second reform, threw his
people into another course. The symptoms of several centuries proved
fallacious, and the impulse given to France struck and spent itself on
the ambition and fanaticism of its kings. The Valois took the place
which she ought to have occupied. Perhaps, if she had received the
gospel, she would have become too powerful. God was pleased to take
the feeblest nations, nations that as yet were not, to make them the
depositaries of his truth. France, after having been almost reformed,
ultimately found herself again become Roman Catholic. The sword of
princes thrown into the scale, made it incline towards Rome. Alas!
another sword, that of the reformed themselves, completed the ruin of
the Reformation. Hands habituated to the sword, unlearned to pray. It
is by the blood of its confessors, and not by that of its enemies,
that the gospel triumphs.
At this time the Netherlands was one of the most flourishing countries
in Europe. It contained an industrious population, enlightened by the
numerous relations which it maintained with the different quarters of
the world, full of courage, and zealous to excess for its
independence, its privileges, and its freedom. Placed on the threshold
of Germany, it must have been one of the first to hear the sound of
the Reformation. Two parties, quite distinct from each other, occupied
these provinces. The more Southern one was surfeited with wealth, and
submitted. How could all those manufactures, carried to the highest
perfection--how could that boundless traffic by land and sea--how
could Bruges, the great entrepot of the trade of the North--how could
Antwerp, that queen of commercial cities, accommodate themselves to a
long and sanguinary struggle for points of faith? On the contrary, the
northern provinces defended by their sands, the sea, and their inland
waters, and still more, by the simplicity of their manners, and their
determination to lose all sooner than the gospel, not only saved their
franchises, their privileges, and their faith, but also conquered
their independence, and a glorious national character.
England scarcely seemed to promise what she has since performed.
Repulsed from the Continent, where she had so long been obstinately
bent on conquering France, she began to throw her eye towards the
ocean, as the domain which was to be the true scene of her conquests,
and which was reserved for her inheritance. Twice converted to
Christianity, once under the ancient Britons, and the second time
under the Anglo-Saxons, she very devoutly paid to Rome the annual
tribute of St. Peter. But she was reserved for high destinies.
Mistress of the ocean, and present at once in all the different
quarters of the globe, she, with the nations that were to spring from
her, was one day to be the hand of God in shedding the seeds of life
over the remotest islands and the largest continents. Already several
circumstances gave a presentiment of her destiny. Bright lights had
shone in the British Isles, and some glimmerings still remained. A
multitude of foreigners, artists, merchants, and mechanics, arriving
from the Netherlands, Germany, and other countries, filled their
cities and their sea-ports. The new religious ideas must have been
conveyed easily and rapidly. In fine, the reigning monarch was an
eccentric prince, who, possessed of some knowledge and great courage,
was every moment changing his projects and ideas, and turning from
side to side, according to the direction in which his violent passions
blew. It was possible that one of the inconsistencies of Henry VIII
might prove favourable to the Reformation.
Scotland was at this time agitated by factions. A king five years old,
a queen regent, ambitious nobles, and an influential clergy, kept this
bold nation in constant turmoil. It was, nevertheless, one day to hold
a first place among those that received the Reformation.
The three kingdoms of the North, Denmark, Sweden, and Norway, were
united under a common sceptre. These rude and warlike nations seemed
to have little in common with the doctrine of love and peace. And yet,
by their very energy, they were, perhaps, more disposed than the
people of the South to receive the evangelical doctrine in its power.
But, the descendants of warriors and pirates, they brought, it would
seem, too warlike a character to the Protestant cause; at a later
period, their sword defended it with heroism.
Russia, retired at the extremity of Europe, had few relations with
other states, and belonged, moreover, to the Greek communion. The
Reformation effected in the Western exerted little or no influence on
the Eastern Church.
Poland seemed well prepared for a reform. The vicinity of the
Christians of Bohemia and Moravia had disposed it to receive, while
the vicinity of Germany must have rapidly communicated, the
evangelical impulse. So early as 1500, the nobility of Poland Proper
had demanded the cup for the laity, appealing to the usage of the
primitive Church. The liberty enjoyed by its towns, and the
independence of its nobles, made it a safe asylum for Christians
persecuted in their own country, and the truth which they brought
thither was received with joy by a great number of its inhabitants. In
our days, however, it is one of the countries which has the smallest
number of confessors.
The flame of reformation, which had long gleamed in Bohemia, had been
almost extinguished in blood. Nevertheless, precious remains which
had escaped the carnage, still survived to see the day of which John
Huss had a presentiment.
Hungary had been torn by intestine wars under the government of
princes without character and without experience, and who had at last
yoked the fate of their people to Austria, by giving this powerful
House a place among the heirs of the crown.
Such was the state of Europe at the beginning of the sixteenth
century, which was destined to produce so mighty a transformation in
Christian society.
CHAP. VI.
Roman Theology--Remains of Life--Justification by
Faith--Witnesses for the Truth--Claude--The Mystics--The
Vaudois--Valdo--Wickliffe--Huss--Prediction--Protestantism
before the Reformation--Arnoldi--Utenheim--Martin--New
Witnesses in the Church--Thomas Conecte--The Cardinal of
Crayn--Institoris--Savonarola--Justification by Faith--John
Vitraire--John Laillier--John of Wessalia--John of
Goch--John Wessel--Protestantism before the Reformation--The
Bohemian Brethren--Prophecy of Proles--Prophecy of the
Franciscan of Isenach--Third Preparative--Literature.
Having pointed out the state of nations and princes, we now proceed to
the preparation for Reform, as existing in Theology and in the Church.
The singular system of Theology which had been established in the
Church must have powerfully contributed to open the eyes of the rising
generation. Made for an age of darkness, as if such an age had been to
exist for ever, it seemed destined to become obsolete and defective in
all its parts as soon as the age should have improved. Such was the
actual result. The popes had from time to time made various additions
to Christian doctrine. They had changed or taken away whatever did not
accord with their hierarchy, while any thing not contrary to their
system was allowed to remain till further orders. This system
contained true doctrines, such as redemption, and the influence of the
Holy Spirit; and these an able theologian, if any such then existed,
might have employed to combat and overthrow all the rest. The pure
gold, mingled with the worthless lead in the treasury of the Vatican,
made it easy to detect the imposition. It is true, that when any bold
opponent called attention to it, the fanner of Rome immediately threw
out the pure grain. But these very proceedings only increased the
confusion.
This confusion was unbounded, and the pretended unity was only a heap
of disunion. At Rome there were doctrines of the Court, and doctrines
of the Church. The faith of the metropolis differed from the faith of
the provinces; while in the provinces, again, the variation was
endless. There was a faith for princes, a faith for the people, and a
faith for religious orders. Opinions were classed as belonging to such
a convent, such a district, such a doctor, such a monk.
Truth, in order to pass peacefully through the time when Rome would
have crushed her with an iron sceptre, had done, like the insect which
with its threads forms the chrysalis in which it shuts itself up
during the cold season. And strange enough, the instruments which
divine truth had employed for the purpose were the so much decried
schoolmen. These industrious artisans of thought had employed
themselves in unravelling all theological ideas, and out of the
numerous threads had made a veil under which the ablest of their
contemporaries must have found it difficult to recognise the truth in
its original purity. It seems a sad thing, that an insect full of
life, and sometimes glowing with the most brilliant colours, should
enclose itself, apparently without life, in its dark cocoon; and yet
it is the shroud that saves it. It was the same with truth. Had the
selfish and sinister policy of Rome, in the days of her ascendancy,
met the truth in naked simplicity, she would have destroyed, or at
least tried to destroy it, but disguised as it was, by the theologians
of the time, under subtleties and endless distinctions, the popes
either saw it not, or thought that, in such a state, it could not do
them harm. They accordingly patronised both the workmen and their
work. But spring might come, and then forgotten truth might lift her
head, and throw aside her shroud. In her seeming tomb, having acquired
new strength, she might now again prove victorious over Rome and all
its errors. This spring arrived. At the moment when the absurd
trappings of the schoolmen were falling off under the attack of
skilful hands, and amid the jeers of the new generation, truth made
her escape, and came forth all young and beautiful.
But not merely did the writings of the schoolmen bear powerful
testimony in favour of truth. Christianity had everywhere imparted a
portion of her own life to the life of the people. The Church of
Christ was like a building which had fallen into ruin; in digging
among its foundations, a portion of the solid rock on stitutions,
which dated from the pure times of the Church, were still existing,
and could not fail to suggest to many minds evangelical ideas utterly
at variance with the prevailing superstitions. Moreover, the inspired
writers and ancient doctors of the Church, whose writings were extant
in many libraries, occasionally sent forth a solitary voice; and may
we not hope that this voice was listened to in silence by more than
one attentive ear? Let us not doubt, (and how sweet the thought!)
Christians had many brothers and many sisters in those monasteries, in
which we are too ready to see nothing but hypocrisy and dissoluteness.
The Church had fallen in consequence of having lost the grand doctrine
of Justification by faith in the Saviour; and hence, before she could
rise, it was necessary that this doctrine should be restored. As soon
as it was re-established in Christendom, all the errors and
observances which had been introduced, all that multitude of saints,
pious works, penances, masses, indulgences, etc., behoved to
disappear. As soon as the one Mediator and his one sacrifice were
recognised, all other mediators and other sacrifices were done away.
"This article of justification," says one whom we may regard as
divinely illumined on the subject,[53] "is that which creates the
Church, nourishes, builds up, preserves, and defends her. No man can
teach well in the Church, or successively resist an adversary, unless
he hold fast by this truth. This," adds the writer from whom we quote,
"is the heel which bruises the Serpent's head."
[53] Luther to Brentius.
God, who was preparing his work, raised up during the revolution of
ages a long series of witnesses to the truth. But the truth to which
those noble men bore testimony, they knew not with sufficient
clearness, or at least were unable to expound with sufficient
distinctness. Incapable of accomplishing the work, they were just what
they should have been in order to prepare it. We must add, however,
that if they were not ready for the work, the work was not ready for
them. The measure was not yet filled up. Ages had not accomplished
their destined course, and the need of a true remedy was not generally
felt.
No sooner had Rome usurped power than a powerful opposition was formed
against her,--an opposition which extended across the middle ages.
In the ninth century, Archbishop Claude of Turin, and in the twelfth
century, Peter of Bruges, his disciple Henry, and Arnold of Brescia,
in France and in Italy endeavour to establish the worship of God in
spirit and in truth. Generally, however, in searching for this
worship, they confine it too much to the exclusion of images and
external observances.
The Mystics, who have existed in almost all ages, seeking in silence
for holiness of heart, purity of life, and tranquil communion with
God, cast looks of sadness and dismay on the desolation of the Church.
Carefully abstaining from the scholastic brawls and useless
discussions under which true piety had been buried, they endeavoured
to withdraw men from the vain mechanism of external worship, and from
the mire and glare of ceremonies, that they might lead them to the
internal repose enjoyed by the soul which seeks all its happiness in
God. This they could not do without coming at every point into
collision with accredited opinions, and without unveiling the sores of
the Church. Still they had no clear view of the doctrine of
justification by faith.
The Vaudois, far superior to the Mystics in purity of doctrine, form a
long chain of witnesses to the truth. Men enjoying more freedom than
the rest of the Church, appear to have inhabited the heights of the
Alps in Piedmont from ancient times; and their numbers were increased,
and their doctrine purified, by the followers of Valdo. From their
mountain tops the Vaudois, during a long series of ages, protest
against the superstitions of Rome.[54] "They contend for the living
hope which they have in God through Christ, for regeneration, and
inward renewal by faith, hope, and charity, for the merits of Jesus
Christ, and the all-sufficiency of his righteousness and grace."[55]
[54] Nobla Leyçon.
[55] Treatise of Antichrist, of the same age as the Nobla Leyçon.
Still, however, this primary truth of a sinner's justification, this
capital doctrine, which ought to have risen from the midst of their
doctrines, like Mont Blanc from the bosom of the Alps, has not due
prominence in their system. Its top is not high enough.
In 1170, Peter Vaud, or Valdo, a rich merchant of Lyons, sells all his
goods and gives to the poor. He, as well as his friends, seem to have
had it in view practically to realise the perfection of primitive
Christianity. He, accordingly, begins in like manner with the
branches, and not the root. Nevertheless, his word is powerful,
because of his appeal to Scripture, and shakes the Roman hierarchy to
its very foundations.
In 1360, Wickliffe appears in England, and appeals from the pope to
the word of God, but the real internal sore of the Church is, in his
eyes, only one of the numerous symptoms of disease.
John Huss lifts his voice in Bohemia, a century before Luther lifts
his in Saxony. He seems to penetrate farther than his predecessors
into the essence of Christian truth. He asks Christ to give him grace
to glory only in his cross, and in the inestimable weight of his
sufferings, but his attention is directed less against the errors of
the Roman Church, than the scandalous lives of its clergy. He was,
however, if we may so speak, the John Baptist of the Reformation. The
flames of his martyrdom kindled a fire in the Church, which threw
immense light on the surrounding darkness, and the rays of which were
not to be so easily extinguished.
John Huss did more; prophetic words came forth from the depth of his
dungeon. He had a presentiment, that the true Reformation of the
Church was at hand. So early as the period when chased from Prague, he
had been forced to wander in the plains of Bohemia, where his steps
were followed by an immense crowd of eager hearers, he had exclaimed,
"The wicked have begun to lay perfidious nets for the Bohemian
goose;[56] but if even the goose, which is only a domestic fowl, a
peaceful bird, and which never takes a lofty flight into the air, has,
however, broken their toils, other birds of loftier wing will break
them with much greater force. Instead of a feeble goose, the truth
will send eagles and falcons, with piercing eye."[57] The Reformers
fulfilled this prediction.
[56] In Bohemian, Huss means "goose."
[57] Epist. J. Huss, Tempore Anathematis Scriptæ.
And after the venerable priest had been summoned before the Council of
Constance, after he had been thrown into prison, the chapel of
Bethlehem, where he had proclaimed the Gospel and the future triumphs
of Jesus Christ, occupied him more than his defence. One night, the
holy martyr thought he saw, in the depth of his dungeon, the features
of Jesus Christ, which he had caused to be painted on the walls of his
study, effaced by the pope and the bishops. The dream distresses him,
but next day he sees several painters employed in restoring the
pictures in greater number and splendour. Their task finished, the
painters, surrounded by a great multitude, exclaim, "Now, let popes
and bishops come, they never shall efface them more." John Huss adds,
"Many people in Bethlehem rejoiced, and I among them." "Think of your
defence, rather than of dreams," said his faithful Friend, Chevalier
de Chlum, to whom he had communicated the dream. "I am not a dreamer,"
replied Huss; "but this I hold for certain--the image of Christ will
never be effaced. They wished to destroy it, but it will be painted
anew in men's hearts by far abler preachers than I. The nation which
loves Jesus Christ will rejoice; and I, awaking among the dead, and,
so to speak, rising again from the tomb, will thrill with joy."[58]
[58] Huss. Ep. sub. Temp. Concuii Scriptæ.
A century elapsed, and the torch of the Gospel, rekindled by the
Reformers, did, in fact, illumine several nations which rejoiced in
its light.
But in those ages, a word of life is heard not only among those whom
Rome regards as its adversaries; Catholicity itself--let us say it for
our comfort--contains in its bosom numerous witnesses to the truth.
The primitive edifice has been consumed; but a noble fire is
slumbering under its ashes, and we see it from time to time throwing
out brilliant sparks.
It is an error to suppose that, up to the Reformation, Christianity
existed only under the Roman Catholic form, and that, at that period
only, a part of that church assumed the form of Protestantism.
Among the doctors who preceded the sixteenth century, a great number,
doubtless, inclined to the system which the Council of Trent
proclaimed in 1562, but several also inclined to the doctrines
professed at Augsburgh in 1530 by the Protestants; the majority,
perhaps, vibrated between the two.
Anselm of Canterbury lays down the doctrines of the incarnation and
expiation as of the essence of Christianity.[59] And in a treatise in
which he teaches how to die, he says to the dying person, "Look only
to the merits of Jesus Christ." St. Bernard with powerful voice
proclaims the mystery of redemption. "If my fault comes from another,"
says he, "why should not my righteousness also be derived? Certainly,
it is far better for me to have it given me, than to have it
innate."[60] Several schoolmen, and after them chancellor Gerson,
forcibly attack the errors and abuses of the Church.
[59] Cur Deus homo?
[60] "Et sane mihi tutior donato quam innata." (De Erroribus Abelardi,
cap. 6.) And it is certainly safer to me given than innate.
But, above all, let us think of the thousands of obscure individuals
unknown to the world, who, however, possessed the true life of Christ.
A monk named Arnoldi, daily in his quiet cell utters this fervent
exclamation, "O Jesus Christ my Lord! I believe that thou alone art my
redemption and my righteousness."[61]
[61] "Credo quod tu, mi Domine Jesu Christe, solus es mea justitia et
redemptio."... (Leibnitz, Script. Brunsw. iii, 396.)
Christopher of Utenheim, a pious bishop of Bâsle, causes his name to
be written on a picture painted on glass, and surrounds it with this
inscription, that he may have it always under his eye, "The cross of
Christ is my hope; I seek grace, and not works."[62]
[62] "Spes mea crux Christi; gratiam, non opera quæro."
Friar Martin, a poor Carthusian, wrote a touching confession, in which
he says, "O most loving God! I know there is no other way in which I
can be saved and satisfy thy justice, than by the merit, the spotless
passion, and death of thy well-beloved Son. Kind Jesus! All my
salvation is in thy hands. Thou canst not turn the arms of thy love
away from me, for they created, shaped, and ransomed me. In great
mercy, and in an ineffable manner, thou hast engraved my name with an
iron pen on thy side, thy hands, and thy feet," etc. Then the good
Carthusian places his confession in a wooden box, and deposits the box
in a hole which he had made in the wall of his cell.[63]
[63] "Sciens posse me aliter non salvari, et tibi satisfacere nisi per
meritum," etc. (For these and similar quotations, see Flacius, Catal.
Test. Veritatis; Wolfii. Lect. Memorabiles; Miller's Reliquien, etc.)
The piety of Friar Martin would never have been known had not the box
been found, 21st December, 1776, in taking down an old tenement which
had formed part of the Carthusian Convent at Bâsle.
But this touching faith these holy men had only for themselves, and
knew not how to communicate to others. Living in retreat, they might
more or less say, as in the writing which Friar Martin put into his
box, "Et si hæc prædicta confiteri non possim lingua, confiteor tamen
corde et scripto." "And these things aforesaid, if I cannot confess
with the tongue, I, however, confess with the heart and in writing."
The word of truth was in the sanctuary of some pious souls, but, to
use a Scripture expression, it had not "free course" in the world.
Still, if the doctrine of salvation was not always confessed aloud,
there were some in the very bosom of the Church of Rome who, at least,
feared not to declare openly against the abuses which dishonoured it.
Scarcely had the Councils of Constance and Bâsle, which condemned Huss
and his followers, been held, than the noble series of witnesses
against Rome, to which we have been pointing, again appears with
greater lustre. Men of a noble spirit, revolting at the abominations
of the Papacy, rise up like the prophets under the Old Testament, like
them sending forth a voice of thunder, and with a similar fate. Their
blood reddens the scaffold, and their ashes are thrown to the wind.
Thomas Conecte, a Carmelite, appears in Flanders, and declares, "that
abominations are done at Rome, that the Church has need of
reformation, and that, in the service of God, one must not fear the
excommunications of the pope."[64] Flanders listens with enthusiasm,
but Rome burns him in 1432, and his contemporaries exclaim that God
has exalted him to heaven.[65]
[64] Bertrand d'Argentré, Histoire de Bretaigne, Paris, 1618, p. 788.
[65] "Ille summo vivit Olympo." (Baptista Mantuanus, de Beata Vita, in
fin.) He lives in the highest heaven.
André, Archbishop of Crayn, and a Cardinal, being at Rome as the
ambassador of the emperor, is amazed when he sees that the holiness of
the pope, in which he had devoutly believed, is only a fable; and in
his simplicity he addresses evangelical representations to Sextus IV.
He is answered with mockery and persecution. Then (1482) he wishes a
new Council to be assembled at Bâsle. "The whole Church," exclaims he,
"is shaken by divisions, heresies, sins, vices, iniquities, errors,
and innumerable evils, so much so, that it is on the eve of being
swallowed up by the devouring abyss of condemnation.[66] This is my
only reason for proposing a General Council for the Reformation of the
Catholic faith, and the amendment of manners." The Archbishop of Bâsle
was thrown into the prison of that town, and there died. Henry
Institoris, the inquisitor, who first moved against him, used these
remarkable words, "The whole world is crying out and demanding a
council; but no human power can reform the Church by means of a
Council. The Almighty will find another method, which is now unknown
to us, though it is at the door; and, by this method the Church will
be brought back to its primitive condition."[67] This remarkable
prophecy, pronounced by an inquisitor, at the very period of Luther's
birth, is the finest apology for the Reformation.
[66] "A sorbente gurgite damnationis, subtrahi." (J. H. Hottingeri,
Hist. Eccl. Sæcul. xv, p. 347.)
[67] "Alium modum Altissimus procurabit, nobis quidem pro nunc
incognitum, licet heu præ foribus existat, ut ad pristinum statum
Ecclesia redeat." (J. H. Hottingeri, Hist. Eccl. Sæcul. xv, p. 413.)
The Dominican, Jerome Savonarola, shortly after he had entered the
order at Bologna in 1475, devotes himself to constant prayer, fasting,
and macerations, and exclaims, "O thou who art good, in thy goodness
teach me thy righteousness."[68] Translated to Florence in 1489, he
preaches with effect; his voice is thrilling, his features animated,
his action beautifully attractive. "The Church," exclaims he, "must be
renewed." And he professes the grand principle which alone can restore
life to it. "God," says he, "forgives man his sin, and justifies him
in the way of mercy. For every justified person existing on the earth,
there has been an act of compassion in heaven; for no man is saved by
his works. None can glory in themselves; and if in the presence of
God, the question were put to all the righteous, 'Have you been saved
by your own strength?' they would all with one voice exclaim, 'Not
unto us, O Lord, but unto thy name be the glory.' Wherefore, O God, I
seek thy mercy, and I bring thee not my own righteousness: the moment
thou justifiest me by grace, thy righteousness belongs to me; for
grace is the righteousness of God. So long, O man, as thou believest
not, thou art, because of sin, deprived of grace. O God, save me by
thy righteousness, that is, by thy Son, who alone was found righteous
among men."[69] Thus the great and holy doctrine of justification by
faith gladdens the heart of Savonarola. In vain do the prelates of the
Church oppose him;[70] he knew that the oracles of God are superior to
the visible church, and that he must preach them with her, without
her, or in spite of her.--"Fly far from Babylon," exclaims he. It is
Rome he thus designates. Rome soon answers him in her own way. In 1497
the infamous Alexander launches a brief at him, and in 1498 torture
and faggot do their work on the Reformer.
[68] "Bonus es tu, et in bonitate tua doce me justificationes tuas."
(Batesius, Vitæ Selectorum Virorum. Lond. 1681, p. 112.)
[69] Meditationes in Psalmos; Prediche sopra il Salmo. Quam bonus
Israel, etc. Sermones supra Archam Noe, etc.
[70] "Inter omnes vero persecutores, potissimum Ecclesiæ præsides."
But among all persecutors, chiefly the prelates of the Church.
(Batesius, p. 118.)
A Franciscan, named John Vitraire, of Tournay, whose monastic spirit
seems not of a very elevated description, nevertheless, declaims
forcibly against the corruption of the Church. "It were better for a
man," says he,[71] "to cut his child's throat than put it into a
religion not reformed. If your curate, or any other priest, keep women
in his house, you ought to go and drag the women by force, or in any
other way, pell-mell, out of the house. There are some persons who say
prayers to the Virgin Mary, in order that, at the hour of death, they
may see the Virgin Mary. Thou shalt see the devil, and not the Virgin
Mary." The monk was ordered to retract, and he did so in 1498.
[71] D'Argentré, Collectio Judiciorum de Novis Erroribus, II, p. 340.
John Laillier, a Doctor of Sorbonne, declares, in 1484, against the
tyrannical domination of the hierarchy. "All ecclesiastics," says he,
"have received equal power from Christ. The Roman Church is not the
head of other churches. You ought to keep the commandments of God and
the Apostles; and, in regard to the command of all the bishops and
other lords of the Church, care no more for it than you would for a
straw; they have destroyed the Church by their tricks.[72] The priests
of the Eastern Church sin not in marrying; and, believe me, neither
shall we in the Western Church if we marry. Since St. Sylvester the
Church of Rome has been, not a church of Christ, but a church of State
and money. We are no more bound to believe the legends of the saints
than the Chronicles of France."
[72] Ibidem.
John of Wessalia, a doctor of theology at Erfurt, a man of great
spirit and intellect, attacks the errors on which the hierarchy rests,
and proclaims the holy Scriptures to be the only source of faith. "It
is not religion" (that is, the monastic state) "that saves us," says
he to some monks, "but the grace of God. God has from all eternity
kept a book in which he has entered all his elect. Whosoever is not
entered there will not, through eternity; and whosoever is, will never see
his name erased. It is solely by the grace of God that the elect are saved.
He whom God is pleased to save, by giving him grace, will be saved,
though all the priests in the world were to condemn and excommunicate
him. And he whom God sees meet to condemn, though these should all wish to
save him, will be made to feel his condemnation.[73] How audacious in
the successors of the apostles to order, not what Christ has
prescribed in his holy books, but what they themselves devised, when
carried away, as they now are, by a thirst for money, or a rage for
power. I despise the pope, the Church, and the Councils, and I extol
Jesus Christ." Wessalia, who had gradually arrived at those
convictions, boldly announces them from the pulpit, and enters into
communication with deputies from the Hussites. Feeble, bent with age,
and wasted by disease, the courageous old man, with tottering step,
appears before the Inquisition, and, in 1482, dies in its dungeons.
[73] "Et quem Deus vult damnare, Si omnes vellent hunc salvare, Adhuc
iste damnaretur."
Who is condemned by God's decree, Assuredly condemned shall be,
Whoe'er they be would save him.
(Paradoxa Damnata, etc., 1749, Moguntiæ.)
About the same time, John de Goch, prior at Malines, extolled
Christian liberty as the soul of all the virtues. He charged the
received doctrine with Pelagianism, and surnamed Thomas Aquinas the
"Prince of Error." "Canonical Scripture alone," said he, "deserves
full faith, and has an irrefragable authority. The writings of the
ancient fathers are of authority only in so far as they are
conformable to canonical truth.--There is truth in the common byword,
'What a monk dares undertake, Satan would blush to think.'"
But the most remarkable of the forerunners of the Reformation was
undoubtedly John Wessel, surnamed "The Light of the World," a man full
of courage and love for the truth, who taught theology successively
at Cologne, Louvain, Paris, Heidelberg, and Gröningen. Luther said of
him, "Had I read his works sooner, it might have been said, Luther has
drawn everything from Wessel; so much do his spirit and mine
accord."[74] "St. Paul and St. James," says Wessel, "say different but
not contrary things. Both hold that the just live by faith, but a
faith which works by love. He who understanding the gospel believes,
desires, hopes, confides in the good news, and loves Him who justifies
and blesses him, gives himself entirely to Him whom he loves, and
attributes nothing to himself, knowing that in himself he has
nothing.[75] The sheep should distinguish between the things on which
they feed, and avoid a hurtful food, though it should be offered by
the shepherd. The people ought to follow their shepherds to the
pastures, but when they lead them to what is not pasture, they are no
more shepherds; and because they are not in their duty, the flock is
no longer bound to obey them. Nothing is more effectual in destroying
the Church than a corrupt clergy. All Christians, even the meanest and
simplest, are bound to resist those who destroy the Church.[76] The
commands of prelates and doctors ought to be performed only in the
manner prescribed by St. Paul, (1 Thess., v, 21;) namely, in so far
as, sitting in the chair of Moses, they speak according to Moses. We
are the servants of God, and not of the pope, according as it is said,
'Thou shalt worship the Lord thy God, and him only shalt thou serve.'
The Holy Spirit has reserved to himself to foster, quicken, preserve,
and enlarge the unity of the Church, and not abandoned it to the Roman
Pontiff, who often gives himself no concern about the matter. Even sex
does not hinder a woman, if she is faithful and prudent, and has love
shed abroad in her heart, from feeling, judging, approving, and
concluding, by a judgment which God ratifies."
[74] "Antiquorum Patrum scripta tantum habent auctoritatis quantum
canonicæ veritati sunt conformia." (Epist. Apologet. Anvers, 1521.)
[75] "Adeo spiritus utriusque concordat." (Farrago Wesseli, in Præf.)
[76] "Extentus totus, et propensus in eum quem amat, a quo credit,
cupit, sperat, confidit, justificatur, nihil sibi ipsi tribuit, qui
scit nihil habere ex se." (De Magnit. Passionis, cap. xlvi, Op. p.
553.)
Thus, as the Reformation approaches, the voices which proclaim the
truth are multiplied. One would say the Church is bent on
demonstrating that the Reformation had an existence before Luther.
Protestantism was born into the Church, the very day that the germ of
the Papacy appeared in it, just as in the political world conservative
principles began to exist the very moment that the despotism of the
great or the disorders of the factious showed open front.
Protestantism was even sometimes stronger than the Papacy in the ages
preceding the Reformation. What had Rome to oppose to all these
witnesses for the truth at the moment when their voice was heard
through all the earth?
But this was not all. The Reformation existed not in the teachers
only; it existed also among the people. The doctrines of Wickliffe,
proceeding from Oxford, had spread over Christendom, and had preserved
adherents in Bavaria, Swabia, Franconia, and Prussia. In Bohemia, from
the bosom of discord and war, ultimately came forth a peaceful
Christian community, which resembled the primitive Church, and bore
lively testimony to the great principle of Evangelical opposition,
viz., "That Christ himself, not Peter and his successor, is the rock
on which the Church is built." Belonging equally to the German and
Slavonian races, these simple Christians had missionaries among the
different nations who spoke their tongues, that they might without
noise gain adherents to their opinions. At Rostoch, which had been
twice visited by them, Nicolas Kuss began in 1511 to preach publicly
against the pope.[77]
[77] "Nemo magis Ecclesiam destruit, quam corruptus clerus.
Destruentibus Ecclesiam omnes Christiani tenentur resistre." (De
Potestate Eccles. Op. p. 769.)
It is important to attend to this state of things. When wisdom from
above will with loud voice deliver her instructions, there will
everywhere be intellects and hearts to receive it. When the sower, who
has never ceased to walk over the Church, will come forth for a new
and extensive sowing, the earth will be ready to receive the grain.
When the trumpet, which the Angel of the covenant has never ceased to
blow, will cause it to sound louder and louder, many will make ready
for battle.
The Church already feels that the hour of battle is approaching. If,
during the last century, more than one philosopher gave intimation of
the revolution with which it was to close, can we be astonished, that,
at the end of the fifteenth century, several doctors foresaw the
impending Reformation which was to renovate the Church?[78]
[78] Wolfii Lect. Memorab. ii, p. 27.
André Prolés, provincial of the Augustins, who, for more than half a
century, presided over this body, and with unshaken courage maintained
the doctrines of Augustine within his order, when assembled with his
friars in the Convent of Himmelspforte, near Wernigerode, often
stopped during the reading of the word of God, and addressing the
listening monks, said to them "Brethren, you hear the testimony of
holy Scripture. It declares, that by grace we are what we are--that by
it alone we have all that we have. Whence, then, so much darkness, and
so many horrible superstitions?... Oh! brethren, Christianity has
need of a great and bold reformation, and I already see its approach."
Then the monks exclaimed, "Why don't you yourself begin this
reformation, and oppose all their errors?" "You see, my brethren,"
replied the old provincial, "that I am weighed down with years, and
feeble in body, and possess not the knowledge, talent, and eloquence,
which so important a matter requires. But God will raise up a hero,
who, by his age, his strength, his talents, his knowledge, his genius,
and eloquence, will occupy the first rank. He will begin the
reformation, he will oppose error, and God will give him such courage
that he will dare to resist the great."[79] An old monk of
Himmelspforte, who had often heard these words, related them to
Flacius. In the very order of which Prolés was provincial, the
Christian hero thus announced by him was to appear.
[79] "Excitabit Dominus heroem ætate viribus...." (Flacii, Catal.
Test. Verit., p. 843.)
In the Franciscan Convent at Isenach, in Thuringia, was a monk named
John Hilten. He was a careful student of the Prophet Daniel, and the
Apocalypse of St. John; he even wrote a Commentary on these Books, and
censured the most crying abuses of monastic life. The enraged monks
threw him into prison. His advanced age, and the filthiness of his
dungeon, bringing on a dangerous illness, he asked for the friar
superintendant, who had no sooner arrived, than, without listening to
the prisoner, he began to give vent to his rage, and to rebuke him
harshly for his doctrine, which (adds the chronicle) was at variance
with the monk's kitchen. The Franciscan, forgetting his illness, and
fetching a deep sigh, exclaims, "I calmly submit to your injustice for
the love of Christ; for I have done nothing to shake the monastic
state, and have only censured its most notorious abuses. _But_,"
continued he, (this is the account given by Melancthon in his _Apology
for the Confession of Augsburg_,) "_another will come in the year of
the Lord one thousand five hundred and sixteen; he will destroy you,
and you will not be able to resist him._"[80] John Hilten, who had
announced the end of the world in the year 1651, was not so much
mistaken in the year in which the future Reformer was to appear. He
was born not long after at a short distance from Hilten's dungeon,
commenced his studies in the same town where the monk was prisoner,
and publicly engaged in the Reformation only a year later than the
Franciscan had mentioned.
[80] "Alius quidem veniet...." (Apologia Conf. Aug. xiii. De Votis
Monasticis.)
CHAP. VII.
Letters--Revival--Remembrance of Antiquity in
Italy--Influence of the Humanists--Christianity of
Dante--Valla--Infidelity in Italy--Platonic Philosophy--Rise
of Literature in Germany--Youth in
Schools--Printing--Character of German Literature--Literati
and Schoolmen--A New World--Reuchlin--Reuchlin in Italy--His
Works--His Influence in Germany--Mystics--Struggle with the
Dominicans.
Thus princes and people, the living members of the Church, and the
theologians, laboured, each in their sphere, to prepare the work which
the sixteenth century was about to carry into effect. But there was
another auxiliary which was to lend its aid to the Reformation,--I
mean Literature.
The human mind was expanding--a circumstance which must of itself have
led to its emancipation. If a small seed fall close to an old wall, as
it grows into a tree it will push down the wall.
The Pontiff of Rome had become tutor to the nations, and his superior
intelligence had made the task easy to him. He had long kept them in a
state of minority, but resistance now broke forth on all sides. This
venerable tutelage, which had been primarily established by the
principles of eternal life, and of civilisation which Rome had
imparted to barbarous nations, could no longer be exercised without
opposition. A formidable adversary had met her in the face, and was
prepared to control her. The natural tendency of the human mind to
expand, to investigate, and acquire knowledge, had given birth to this
new power. Man opened his eyes, and at every step questioned the
proceedings of that long respected guide under whose direction, while
blindfolded, he had moved on without saying a word. In regard to the
nations of new Europe, the age of infancy had passed away, and that of
manhood had begun. To the childlike simplicity, which believed
everything, had succeeded a spirit of curiosity, an intellect not to
be satisfied without sifting everything to the utmost. It was asked
for what end God had spoken to the world, and whether men had a right
to station themselves as mediators between God and their brethren.
There was only one thing which could have saved the Church, and this
was to raise herself still higher above the people. To keep on a level
with them was not enough. But so far from this, she was even found to
be far beneath them, having begun to descend at the same time that
they began to rise. At the period when mankind began to ascend to the
regions of intellect, the priesthood was grovelling below among
earthly pursuits and worldly interests. This phenomenon has repeatedly
appeared in history. The wings of the eaglet were full fledged, and
what hand was high enough to prevent it from taking its flight?
The human mind made its first start in Italy.
Scholasticism and romantic poetry had at no time reigned unopposed.
Italy never entirely lost the remembrance of antiquity; and this
remembrance having been strongly awakened towards the end of the
middle ages, soon gave the mind a new impulse.
Even in the fourteenth century, Dante and Petrarch restored the honour
of the ancient Roman poets, at the same time that the former gave the
most powerful popes a place in his hell, and the latter boldly
protested for the primitive constitution of the Church. At the
beginning of the fifteenth century, John of Ravenna taught Latin
literature with applause at Padua and Florence, while Chrysoloras, at
Florence and Pavia, interpreted the beautiful writers of Greece.
While in Europe light was thus coming forth from the prisons in which
it had been confined, the East was sending new beams to the West. The
standard of the Osmanlis, planted in 1453 on the walls of
Constantinople, had put the learned to flight. They had, in
consequence, transported the literature of Greece into Italy, where
the torch of the ancients rekindled minds which had lain smothered for
so many ages. George of Trebisond, Argyropolos, Bessarion, Lascaris,
Chalcondylas, and many others, inspired the West with their love of
Greece and its noblest productions. The patriotic feelings of the
Italians were thus stimulated, and a great number of learned men
appeared in Italy. Of these, the most illustrious were Gasparino,
Aretin, Poggio, and Valla, who strove to restore the honour of Roman
antiquity, and place it on a footing with that of Greece. In this way,
a great flood of light had appeared, and Rome could not but suffer by
it.
The passion for antiquity, which took possession of the _Humanists_,
had a great effect in weakening the attachment to the Church in minds
of the highest order; for "no man can serve two masters." At the same
time, the studies in which the learned were engaged put them in
possession of a new class of instruments, which were unknown to the
schoolmen, and by means of which they could test and decide upon the
lessons of the Church. Finding that beauties which charmed them in
classical authors existed in profusion in the Bible, and not in the
works of theologians, the _Humanists_ were quite prepared to give the
Bible precedence before the Doctors. By reforming taste, they
prepared a reformation in faith.
The Literati, it is true, loudly protested that their pursuits were
not at variance with the belief of the Church; but yet they had
assailed the schoolmen long before the Reformers began to do it, and
played off their wit on these barbarians--those "Teutons who living,
lived not."[81] Some even proclaimed doctrines of the gospel, and
assailed Rome in the objects of her dearest affection. Already Dante,
while adhering to many Roman dogmas, had proclaimed the power of faith
in terms similar to those which the first Reformers employed. "It is
true faith," he said, "that makes us citizens of heaven.[82] Faith,
according to the gospel doctrine, is the principle of life; it is the
feeble spark which, spreading always wider and wider, at length
becomes a living flame, and shines within us like a star in heaven.
Without faith, no good works, no honesty of life, can give us aid. How
great soever our sins may be, the arms of divine grace are greater
still, and wide enough to embrace whatever turns towards God.[83] The
soul is not lost by the anathema of the pontiffs; and eternal love can
always reach it, so long as there remains one bloom of hope.[84] From
God, from God alone, through faith our justice comes." And speaking of
the Church, Dante exclaims, "O my bark! how ill loaded thou art! O
Constantine! what mighty evil was engendered, I will not say by thy
conversion, but by that offering which the rich father then received
from thee!"
[81] "Qui ne viventes quidem vivebant." (Politiani, Ep. ix, 3.)
[82] Parad., xxiv, 44.
[83]
Orribil furon li peccati miei;
Ma la bontà infinita ha si gran braccia
Che prende ciò che si revolve a lei.
(Purgator. iii, 121-124.)
[84]
Per lor maladizion si non si perde.
Che non possa tornar l'eterno amore,
Mentre che la speranza ha fior del verde?
(Ibid., 134-136.)
At a later period, Laurentius Valla, applying the study of antiquity
to the opinions of the Church, denies the authenticity of the
correspondence between Christ and King Abgarus, rejects the tradition
as to the origin of the Apostles' Creed, and saps the foundation of
the pretended inheritance which the popes held of Constantine.[85]
[85] De ementita Constantini donatione declamatio ad Papam." (Op.
Basil., 1543.)
Still, however, the great light which the study of antiquity threw out
in the fifteenth century, was fitted only to destroy, and not to build
up. The honour of saving the Church could not be given either to Homer
or Virgil. The revival of letters, sciences, and arts did not found
the Reformation. The Paganism of the poets, on reappearing in Italy,
rather strengthened the Paganism of the heart. The scepticism of the
school of Aristotle, and a contempt of everything not connected with
philology, took possession of many of the Literati, and engendered an
infidelity which, while it affected submission to the Church, in
reality attacked the most important truths of religion. Peter
Pomponatius, the most famous representative of this impious tendency,
taught at Bologna and Padua, that the immortality of the soul and
providence are only philosophical problems.[86] John Francis Pica,
nephew of Pica de la Mirandôla, tells of a pope who did not believe a
God,[87] and of another who, having confessed to one of his friends,
that he did not believe in the immortality of the soul, appeared one
night after his death to the same friend, and said to him, "Ah! the
eternal fire that consumes me, makes me but too sensible of the
immortality of that soul, which, according to the view I held, was to
die with the body." This reminds us of the celebrated words which Leo
X is alleged to have said to his Secretary Bembo, "All ages know well
enough of what advantage this fable about Christ has been to us and
ours."[88]... Frivolous superstitions were attacked, but their place
was supplied by infidelity, with its disdainful sneering laugh. To
laugh at things, however sacred, was fashionable, and a proof of wit;
and if any value was set on religion, it was merely as a mean of
governing the people. "I have a fear," exclaimed Erasmus in 1516, "and
it is, that, with the study of ancient literature, ancient Paganism
will re-appear."
[86] De Immortalitate Animæ, de Predestinatione et Providentia, etc.
[87] Qui nullum Deum credens." (J. F. Pici de Fide, Op. ii, p. 820.)
Who believing in God.
[88] "Ea de Christo fabula." (Mornæi, Hist. Papatus, p. 820.)
It is true that then, as after the sarcasms of the age of Augustus,
and as in our own times, after those of the last century, a new
Platonic philosophy sprung up and attacked that irrational
incredulity, seeking, like the philosophy of the present day, to
inspire some respect for Christianity, and restore the religious
sentiment to the heart. The Medici at Florence favoured these efforts
of the Platonics. But no philosophical religion will regenerate the
Church and the world. Proud, disdaining the preaching of the cross,
and pretending to see nothing in Christian doctrines but figures and
symbols, which the majority of men cannot comprehend, it may bewilder
itself in a mystical enthusiasm, but will always prove powerless,
either to reform or to save.
What then must have happened, had not true Christianity re-appeared in
the world, and had not faith filled the hearts of men anew with its
power and its holiness? The Reformation saved religion, and with it
society, and, therefore, if the Church of Rome had had the glory of
God and the good of the people at heart, it would have welcomed the
Reformation with delight. But what were such things as these to Leo X?
However, a torch could not be lighted in Italy without sending its
beams beyond the Alps. The affairs of the Church established a
constant intercourse between the Italian Peninsula and the other parts
of Christendom, and the _barbarians_ being thus soon made to feel the
superiority and pride of the Italians, began to blush for the
imperfection of their language and their style. Some young noblemen, a
Dalberg, a Langen, a Spiegelberg, inflamed with an eager desire of
knowledge, passed over into Italy, and on their return to Germany,
brought back learning, grammar, and the classics, now so eagerly
sought after, and communicated them to their friends.[89] Shortly
after, Rodolph Agricola, a man of distinguished genius, appeared, and
was held in as high veneration for his learning and genius, as if he
had lived in the age of Augustus or Pericles. The ardour of his mind,
and the fatigues of the school, wore him out in a few years; but not
till noble disciples had been trained, through intimate intercourse
with him, to carry their master's fire all over Germany. Often, when
assembled around him, they had together deplored the darkness of the
Church, and asked why Paul so often repeats that men are justified by
faith and not by works.[90]
[89] Hamelmann, Relatio Hist. This first impulse has been erroneously
attributed to Thomas à Kempis. (Delprat over G. Groote, p. 280.)
[90] "Fide justos esse." (Melancth. Decl., i, 602.)
Around the feet of these new teachers soon gathered rustic youths, who
lived by alms and studied without books, and who, divided into
sections of priests of Bacchus, arquebusiers, and many more besides,
moved in disorderly bands from town to town, and school to school. No
matter; these strange bands were the commencement of a literary
public. The masterpieces of antiquity began gradually to issue from
the presses of Germany, supplanting the schoolmen; and the art of
printing, discovered at Mayence in 1440, multiplied the energetic
voices which remonstrated against the corruption of the Church, and
those voices, not less energetic, which invited the human mind into
new paths.
The study of ancient literature had, in Germany, very different
effects from those which it had in Italy and France. Her study was
combined with faith. In the new literary culture, Germany turned her
attention to the advantage which religion might derive from it. What
had produced in some a kind of intellectual refinement, of a captious
and sterile nature, penetrated the whole life of others, warmed their
hearts, and prepared them for a better light. The first restorers of
letters in France were characterised by levity, and often even by
immorality of conduct. In Germany, their successors, animated by a
spirit of gravity, zealously devoted themselves to the investigation
of truth. Italy offering her incense to profane literature and
science, saw an infidel opposition arise. Germany, occupied with a
profound theology, and turned inwardly upon herself, saw the rise of
an opposition based on faith. The one sapped the foundations of the
Church, and the other repaired them. Within the empire was formed a
remarkable union of free, learned, and noble-minded men, among whom
princes were conspicuous, who endeavoured to render science useful to
religion. Some brought to their studies the humble faith of children,
while others brought an enlightened and penetrating intellect,
disposed, perhaps, to exceed the bounds of legitimate freedom and
criticism; both, however, contributed to clear the pavement of the
temple from the obstructions produced by so many superstitions.
The monkish theologians perceived their danger, and began to clamour
against the very studies which they had tolerated in Italy and France,
because in those countries they had gone hand in hand with levity and
dissoluteness. They entered into a conspiracy to oppose the study of
language and science, because they had caught a glimpse of faith
following in their rear. A monk was putting some one on his guard
against the heresies of Erasmus. "In what," it was asked, "do they
consist?" He confessed that he had not read the work of which he was
speaking, but one thing he knew, viz., that Erasmus had written in too
good Latin.
The disciples of literature, and the scholastic theologians, soon came
to an open rupture. The latter were in dismay when they saw the
movement which was taking place in the domain of intellect, and
thought that immobility and darkness were the best safeguards of the
Church. Their object in contending against the revival of letters was
to save Rome, but they helped to ruin it. Here Rome had much at stake.
Forgetting herself for an instant under the pontificate of Leo X, she
abandoned her old friends, and clasped her young adversaries in her
arms. The papacy and letters formed an intimacy which seemed destined
to break up the ancient alliance between monasticism and the
hierarchy. At the first glance the popes perceived not that what they
had taken for a whip was a sword capable of inflicting a mortal
wound. In the same way, during the last century, princes were seen
receiving at their court political and philosophic systems, which, if
carried into full effect, would have overturned their thrones. The
alliance was not of long duration. Literature advanced without
troubling itself about the injury which it might do to the power of
its patron. The monks and schoolmen were aware that to abandon the
pope was just to abandon themselves; and the pope, notwithstanding of
the passing patronage which he gave to the fine arts, was not the less
active when he saw the danger, in adopting measures, how much opposed
soever they might be to the spirit of the time.
The universities defended themselves as they best could against the
invasion of new light. Cologne expelled Rhagius; Leipsic, Celtes;
Rostoch, Herman von dem Busch. Still the new doctors, and with them
the ancient classics, gradually and often even by the aid of princes,
made good their footing in these public schools. Societies of
grammarians and poets were soon established in spite of the schoolmen,
and every thing, even to the name of the Literati, behoved to be
converted into Latin and Greek; for how could the friends of Sophocles
and Virgil have such names as Krachenberger or Schwarzerd? At the same
time, a spirit of independence breathed in all the universities.
Students were no longer seen in schoolboy fashion, with their books
under their arms, walking sagely and demurely with downcast eye behind
their masters. The petulance of a Martial and an Ovid had passed into
the new disciples of the Muses. It was transport to them to hear the
sarcasms which fell in torrents on the dialectical theologians, and
the heads of the literary movement were sometimes accused of
favouring, and even of exciting, the disorderly proceedings of the
students.
Thus a new world, emerging out of antiquity, was formed in the very
heart of the world of the middle ages. The two parties could not avoid
coming to blows, and the struggle was at hand. It began with the
greatest champion of literature, with an old man on the eve of
finishing his peaceful career.
To secure the triumph of truth, the first thing necessary was to bring
forth the weapons by which she was to conquer, from the arsenals where
they had lain buried for ages. These weapons were the holy Scriptures
of the Old and New Testaments. It was necessary to revive in
Christendom a love and study of sacred literature, both Greek and
Hebrew. John Reuchlin was the individual whom divine Providence
selected for this purpose.
A very fine boy's voice was remarked in the choir of the church of
Pforzheim, and attracted the attention of the Margrave of Baden. It
was that of John Reuchlin, a young boy of agreeable manners and a
lively disposition, son of an honest burgher of the place. The
Margrave soon took him entirely under his protection, and in 1473 made
choice of him to accompany his son Frederick to the University of
Paris.
The son of the bailiff of Pforzheim arrived with the prince, his heart
exuberant with joy at being admitted to this school, the most
celebrated of all the West. Here he found the Spartan Hermonymos and
John Wessel, surnamed "The Light of the World," and had an opportunity
of engaging under skilful masters in the study of Greek and Hebrew,
which had not then a single professor in Germany, and of which he was
one day to be the restorer in the country of the Reformation. The poor
young German made copies of the poems of Homer, and the speeches of
Isocrates, for wealthy students, and in this way gained the means of
continuing his studies and buying books.
But what he hears from the mouth of Wessel is of a different nature,
and makes a deep impression on his mind. "The popes may be mistaken.
All human satisfactions are blasphemy against Christ, who has
perfectly reconciled and justified the human race. To God alone
belongs the power of giving full absolution. There is no necessity for
confessing our sins to a priest. There is no purgatory, at least if it
be not God himself, who is a devouring fire, and purges away every
defilement." Reuchlin, when scarcely twenty, teaches Philosophy,
Greek, and Latin, at Bâsle, and a German (a thing then regarded as a
wonder) is heard speaking Greek.
The partizans of Rome begin to feel uneasy on seeing noble spirits at
work among these ancient treasures. "The Romans," says Reuchlin, "are
making mouths and raising an outcry, pretending that all these
literary labours are hostile to Roman piety, inasmuch as the Greeks
are schismatics. Oh! what toils and sufferings must be endured to
bring Germany back to wisdom and knowledge!"
Shortly afterward, Eberhard of Wurtemberg invited Reuchlin to
Tubingen, that he might be the ornament of this rising university, and
in 1483 took him with him into Italy. At Florence his companions and
friends were Chalcondylas, Aurispa, and John Pica de Mirandola. At
Rome, when Eberhard received a solemn audience of the pope, surrounded
by his cardinals, Reuchlin delivered an address in such pure and
elegant Latin, that the assembly, who expected nothing of the kind
from a barbarous German, were filled with the greatest astonishment,
while the pope exclaimed, "Assuredly this man deserves to take his
place beside the best orators of France and Italy."
Ten years later Reuchlin was obliged to take refuge in Heidelberg, at
the court of the Elector Philip, to escape the vengeance of Eberhard's
successor. Philip, in concert with John of Dalberg, Bishop of Worms,
his friend and chancellor, exerted himself to spread the light which
was beginning to peep forth from all parts of Germany. Dalberg had
founded a library, to which all the learned had free access, and
Reuchlin, in this new sphere, made great efforts to remove the
barbarism of his countrymen.
Having been sent to Rome by the elector in 1498, on an important
mission, he availed himself of all the time and all the money he could
spare to make new progress in Hebrew, under the learned Israelite,
Abdias Sphorne, and purchased all the Greek and Hebrew manuscripts
which he could find, with the view of employing them as so many
torches to increase the light which was beginning to dawn in his
native country.
Argyropolos, a distinguished Greek, was at this time in the metropolis
explaining the ancient marvels of the literature of his country to a
numerous audience. The learned ambassador repairs with his suite to
the hall where the teacher was lecturing, and, after bowing to him,
deplores the misery of Greece, expiring under the blows of the
Ottomans. The astonished Hellenist asks the German, "Who are you? Do
you understand Greek?" Reuchlin replies, "I am a German, and know
something of your tongue." At the request of Argyropolos he reads and
explains a passage of Thucydides, which the professor had at the
moment before him. Then Argyropolos, filled with astonishment and
grief, exclaims, "Alas! Alas! Greece, oppressed and obliged to flee,
has gone and hid herself beyond the Alps!"
Thus the sons of rude Germany, and those of ancient learned Greece,
met in the palaces of Rome, and the East and West shook hands in this
rendezvous of the world--the one pouring into the lap of the other
those intellectual treasures which had with difficulty been saved from
the barbarism of the Ottomans. God, when his designs require it,
employs some great catastrophe to break down the barrier, and
instantly bring together those who seemed to be for ever parted.
Reuchlin, on his return to Germany, was able to go back to Wurtemberg,
and proceeded, at this time especially, to execute those works which
proved so useful to Luther and the Reformation. This individual, who,
as Count Palatine, held an eminent station in the empire, and who as
a philosopher, contributed to humble Aristotle and exalt Plato--made a
Latin Dictionary, which supplanted those of the Schoolmen--composed a
Greek Grammar, which greatly facilitated the study of that
language--translated and expounded the penitential Psalms--corrected
the Vulgate, and was the first in Germany (this constitutes his
highest merit and glory) who published a Hebrew Grammar and
Dictionary. By this work Reuchlin opened the long sealed books of the
Old Testament, and reared "a monument," as he himself expresses it,
"more durable than brass."
It was not merely by his writings, but also by his life, that Reuchlin
sought to advance the reign of truth. Tall in stature, of commanding
appearance, and affable address, he instantly gained the confidence of
all with whom he had any intercourse. His thirst for knowledge was
equalled only by his zeal in communicating it. He spared neither money
nor labour to introduce the editions of the classics into Germany as
they issued from the presses of Italy; and in this way the son of a
bailiff did more to enlighten his countrymen than rich municipalities
or powerful princes. His influence over youth was great; and, in this
respect, who can calculate how much the Reformation owes to him? We
will give only one example. His cousin, a young man named Schwarzerd,
son of an artisan, who had acquired celebrity as an armourer, came to
lodge with his sister, Elizabeth, in order to study under his
direction. Reuchlin, delighted at the genius and application of his
young pupil, adopted him. Advice, presents of books, examples,
nothing, in short, he spared to make his relative useful to the Church
and to his country. He rejoiced to see his work prospering under his
eye; and, thinking the name Schwarzerd too barbarous, translated it
into Greek, and named the young student Melancthon. It was Luther's
illustrious friend.
But grammatical studies did not satisfy Reuchlin. Like his masters,
the Jewish doctors, he began to study the hidden meaning of the Word;
"God," said he, "is a Spirit, the Word is a breath,--man breathes, God
is the Word. The names which he has given himself are an echo of
eternity."[91] Like the Cabalists, he hoped to "pass from symbol to
symbol, from form to form, till he arrived at the last and purest of
all forms--that which regulates the power of the Spirit."[92]
[91] De Verbo Mirifico.
[92] De Arte Cabalistica.
While Reuchlin was bewildering himself in these quiet and abstruse
researches, the enmity of the Schoolmen forced him suddenly, and much
against his will, into a fierce war, which was one of the preludes of
the Reformation.
There was at Cologne a baptized Rabbin, named Pfefferkorn, who was
intimately connected with the inquisitor Hochstraten. This man and the
Dominicans solicited and procured from the emperor, Maximilian, (it
may have been with good intentions,) an order, in virtue of which the
Jews were to bring all their Hebrew books (the Bible excepted) to the
town-house of the place where they resided. There the books were to be
burned. The motive alleged was, that they were full of blasphemies
against Jesus Christ. It must be confessed that they were, at least,
full of absurdities, and that the Jews themselves would not have lost
much by the intended execution.
The emperor desired Reuchlin to give his opinion of the books. The
learned doctor expressly singled out all the books which were written
against Christianity, leaving them to their destined fate, but he
tried to save the others. "The best method of converting the
Israelites," added he, "would be to establish two Hebrew professors in
each University, who might teach theologians to read the Bible in
Hebrew, and thus refute the Jewish doctors." The Jews, in consequence
of this advice, obtained restitution of their books.
The proselytes and the inquisitors, like hungry ravens which see their
prey escape, sent forth cries of fury. Picking out different passages
from the writings of Reuchlin, and perverting their meaning, they
denounced the author as a heretic, accused him of a secret inclination
to Judaism, and threatened him with the fetters of the Inquisition.
Reuchlin was at first taken by surprise; but these men always becoming
more and more arrogant, and prescribing dishonourable terms, he, in
1513, published a "Defence against his Detractors of Cologne," in
which he painted the whole party in vivid colours.
The Dominicans vowed vengeance, and hoped, by an act of authority, to
re-establish their tottering power. Hochstraten, at Mayence, drew up a
charge against Reuchlin, and the learned works of this learned man
were condemned to the flames. The Innovators, the masters and
disciples of the new school, feeling that they were all attacked in
the person of Reuchlin, rose as one man. Times were changed,--Germany
and literature were very different from Spain and the Inquisition.
The great literary movement had created a public opinion. Even the
dignified clergy were somewhat influenced by it. Reuchlin appeals to
Leo X, and that pope, who had no great liking for ignorant monks and
fanatics, remits the whole affair to the Bishop of Spires, who
declares Reuchlin innocent, and condemns the monks in the expences of
process. The Dominicans, those props of the papacy, filled with rage,
recur to the infallible decision of Rome, and Leo, not knowing how to
act between the two hostile powers, issues a mandate superseding the
process.
The union of letters with faith forms one of the characteristic
features of the Reformation, and distinguishes it, both from the
introduction of Christianity, and the religious revival of the present
day. The Christians, who were contemporary with the Apostles, had the
refinement of their age against them, and, with some few exceptions,
it is the same now; but the majority of literary men were with the
Reformers. Even public opinion was favourable to them. The work
thereby gained in extent, but perhaps it lost in depth.
Luther, sensible of all that Reuchlin had done, wrote to him shortly
after his victory over the Dominicans, "The Lord has acted through
you, in order that the light of Holy Scripture may again begin to
shine in this Germany, where, for many ages, alas! it was not only
smothered, but almost extinguished."[93]
[93] Mai Vita J. Reuchlin, (Francf. 1687,) Maynhoff, J. Reuchlin and
Seine Zeit, (Berlin, 1830.)
CHAP. VIII.
Erasmus--Erasmus a Canon--At Paris--His Genius--His
Reputation--His Influence--Popular Attack--Praise of
Folly--Tatters--Church People--Saints--Folly and the
Popes--Attack on Science--Principle--The Greek New
Testament--His Profession of Faith--His Writings and
Influence--His Failings--A Reform without Shocks--Was it
possible--The Church without Reform--His timidity--His
Indecision--Erasmus loses himself with all Parties.
But a man had now appeared, who regarded it as the great business of
his life to attack the scholasticism of the universities and convents,
and was the great writer of the opposition at the commencement of the
sixteenth century.