ERASMUS AT BASLE
1521-9
Basle his dwelling-place for nearly eight years:
1521-9--Political thought of Erasmus--Concord and
peace--Anti-war writings--Opinions concerning princes and
government--New editions of several Fathers--The
_Colloquia_--Controversies with Stunica, Beda, etc.--Quarrel
with Hutten--Eppendorff
It is only towards the evening of life that the picture of Erasmus
acquires the features with which it was to go down to posterity. Only at
Basle--delivered from the troublesome pressure of parties wanting to
enlist him, transplanted from an environment of haters and opponents at
Louvain to a circle of friends, kindred spirits, helpers and admirers,
emancipated from the courts of princes, independent of the patronage of
the great, unremittingly devoting his tremendous energy to the work that
was dear to him--did he become Holbein's Erasmus. In those late years he
approaches most closely to the ideal of his personal life.
He did not think that there were still fifteen years in store for him.
Long before, in fact, since he became forty years old in 1506, Erasmus
had been in an old-age mood. 'The last act of the play has begun,' he
keeps saying after 1517.
He now felt practically independent as to money matters. Many years had
passed before he could say that. But peace of mind did not come with
competence. It never came. He never became truly placid and serene, as
Holbein's picture seems to represent him. He was always too much
concerned about what people said or thought of him. Even at Basle he did
not feel thoroughly at home. He still speaks repeatedly of a removal in
the near future to Rome, to France, to England, or back to the
Netherlands. Physical rest, at any rate, which was not in him, was
granted him by circumstances: for nearly eight years he now remained at
Basle, and then he lived at Freiburg for six.
Erasmus at Basle is a man whose ideals of the world and society have
failed him. What remains of that happy expectation of a golden age of
peace and light, in which he had believed as late as 1517? What of his
trust in good will and rational insight, in which he wrote the
_Institutio Principis Christiani_ for the youthful Charles V? To Erasmus
all the weal of state and society had always been merely a matter of
personal morality and intellectual enlightenment. By recommending and
spreading those two he at one time thought he had introduced the great
renovation himself. From the moment when he saw that the conflict would
lead to an exasperated struggle he refused any longer to be anything but
a spectator. As an actor in the great ecclesiastical combat Erasmus had
voluntarily left the stage.
But he does not give up his ideal. 'Let us resist,' he concludes an
Epistle about gospel philosophy, 'not by taunts and threats, not by
force of arms and injustice, but by simple discretion, by benefits, by
gentleness and tolerance.' Towards the close of his life, he prays: 'If
Thou, O God, deignst to renew that Holy Spirit in the hearts of all,
then also will those external disasters cease.... Bring order to this
chaos, Lord Jesus, let Thy Spirit spread over these waters of sadly
troubled dogmas.'
Concord, peace, sense of duty and kindliness, were all valued highly by
Erasmus; yet he rarely saw them realized in practical life. He becomes
disillusioned. After the short spell of political optimism he never
speaks of the times any more but in bitter terms--a most criminal age,
he says--and again, the most unhappy and most depraved age imaginable.
In vain had he always written in the cause of peace: _Querela pacis_,
the complaint of peace, the adage _Dulce bellum inexpertis_, war is
sweet to those who have not known it, _Oratio de pace et discordia_, and
more still. Erasmus thought rather highly of his pacifistic labours:
'that polygraph, who never leaves off persecuting war by means of his
pen', thus he makes a character of the _Colloquies_ designate himself.
According to a tradition noted by Melanchthon, Pope Julius is said to
have called him before him in connection with his advice about the war
with Venice,[18] and to have remarked to him angrily that he should stop
writing on the concerns of princes: 'You do not understand those
things!'
Erasmus had, in spite of a certain innate moderation, a wholly
non-political mind. He lived too much outside of practical reality, and
thought too naively of the corrigibility of mankind, to realize the
difficulties and necessities of government. His ideas about a good
administration were extremely primitive, and, as is often the case with
scholars of a strong ethical bias, very revolutionary at bottom, though
he never dreamed of drawing the practical inferences. His friendship
with political and juridical thinkers, as More, Budaeus and Zasius, had
not changed him. Questions of forms of government, law or right, did not
exist for him. Economic problems he saw in idyllic simplicity. The
prince should reign gratuitously and impose as few taxes as possible.
'The good prince has all that loving citizens possess.' The unemployed
should be simply driven away. We feel in closer contact with the world
of facts when he enumerates the works of peace for the prince: the
cleaning of towns, building of bridges, halls, and streets, draining of
pools, shifting of river-beds, the diking and reclamation of moors. It
is the Netherlander who speaks here, and at the same time the man in
whom the need of cleansing and clearing away is a fundamental trait of
character.
Vague politicians like Erasmus are prone to judge princes very severely,
since they take them to be responsible for all wrongs. Erasmus praises
them personally, but condemns them in general. From the kings of his
time he had for a long time expected peace in Church and State. They had
disappointed him. But his severe judgement of princes he derived rather
from classical reading than from political experience of his own times.
In the later editions of the _Adagia_ he often reverts to princes, their
task and their neglect of duty, without ever mentioning special princes.
'There are those who sow the seeds of dissension between their townships
in order to fleece the poor unhindered and to satisfy their gluttony by
the hunger of innocent citizens.' In the adage _Scarabeus aquilam
quaerit_ he represents the prince under the image of the Eagle as the
great cruel robber and persecutor. In another, _Aut regem aut fatuum
nasci oportere_, and in _Dulce bellum inexpertis_ he utters his
frequently quoted dictum: 'The people found and develop towns, the folly
of princes devastates them.' 'The princes conspire with the Pope, and
perhaps with the Turk, against the happiness of the people,' he writes
to Colet in 1518.
He was an academic critic writing from his study. A revolutionary
purpose was as foreign to Erasmus as it was to More when writing the
_Utopia_. 'Bad monarchs should perhaps be suffered now and then. The
remedy should not be tried.' It may be doubted whether Erasmus exercised
much real influence on his contemporaries by means of his diatribes
against princes. One would fain believe that his ardent love of peace
and bitter arraignment of the madness of war had some effect. They have
undoubtedly spread pacific sentiments in the broad circles of
intellectuals who read Erasmus, but unfortunately the history of the
sixteenth century shows little evidence that such sentiments bore fruit
in actual practice. However this may be, Erasmus's strength was not in
these political declamations. He could never be a leader of men with
their passions and their harsh interests.
His life-work lay elsewhere. Now, at Basle, though tormented more and
more frequently by his painful complaint which he had already carried
for so many years, he could devote himself more fully than ever before
to the great task he had set himself: the opening up of the pure sources
of Christianity, the exposition of the truth of the Gospel in all the
simple comprehensibility in which he saw it. In a broad stream flowed
the editions of the Fathers, of classic authors, the new editions of the
New Testament, of the _Adagia_, of his own Letters, together with
Paraphrases of the New Testament, Commentaries on Psalms, and a number
of new theological, moral and philological treatises. In 1522 he was ill
for months on end; yet in that year Arnobius and the third edition of
the New Testament succeeded Cyprian, whom he had already annotated at
Louvain and edited in 1520, closely followed by Hilary in 1523 and next
by a new edition of Jerome in 1524. Later appeared Irenaeus, 1526;
Ambrose, 1527; Augustine, 1528-9, and a Latin translation of Chrysostom
in 1530. The rapid succession of these comprehensive works proves that
the work was done as Erasmus always worked: hastily, with an
extraordinary power of concentration and a surprising command of his
mnemonic faculty, but without severe criticism and the painful accuracy
that modern philology requires in such editions.
Neither the polemical Erasmus nor the witty humorist had been lost in
the erudite divine and the disillusioned reformer. The paper-warrior we
would further gladly have dispensed with, but not the humorist, for many
treasures of literature. But the two are linked inseparably as the
_Colloquies_ prove.
What was said about the _Moria_ may be repeated here: if in the
literature of the world only the _Colloquies_ and the _Moria_ have
remained alive, that choice of history is right. Not in the sense that
in literature only Erasmus's pleasantest, lightest and most readable
works were preserved, whereas the ponderous theological erudition was
silently relegated to the shelves of libraries. It was indeed Erasmus's
best work that was kept alive in the _Moria_ and the _Colloquies_. With
these his sparkling wit has charmed the world. If only we had space here
to assign to the Erasmus of the _Colloquies_ his just and lofty place in
that brilliant constellation of sixteenth-century followers of
Democritus: Rabelais, Ariosto, Montaigne, Cervantes, and Ben Jonson!
When Erasmus gave the _Colloquies_ their definite form at Basle, they
had already had a long and curious genesis. At first they had been no
more than _Familiarium colloquiorum formulae_, models of colloquial
Latin conversation, written at Paris before 1500, for the use of his
pupils. Augustine Caminade, the shabby friend who was fond of living on
young Erasmus's genius, had collected them and had turned them to
advantage within a limited compass. He had long been dead when one
Lambert Hollonius of Liege sold the manuscript that he had got from
Caminade to Froben at Basle. Beatus Rhenanus, although then already
Erasmus's trusted friend, had it printed at once without the latter's
knowledge. That was in 1518. Erasmus was justly offended at it, the more
so as the book was full of slovenly blunders and solecisms. So he at
once prepared a better edition himself, published by Maertensz at
Louvain in 1519. At that time the work really contained but one true
dialogue, the nucleus of the later _Convivium profanum_. The rest were
formulae of etiquette and short talks. But already in this form it was,
apart from its usefulness to latinists, so full of happy wit and
humorous invention that it became very popular. Even before 1522 it had
appeared in twenty-five editions, mostly reprints, at Antwerp, Paris,
Strassburg, Cologne, Cracow, Deventer, Leipzig, London, Vienna, Mayence.
At Basle Erasmus himself revised an edition which was published in March
1522 by Froben, dedicated to the latter's six-year-old son, the author's
godchild, Johannes Erasmius Froben. Soon after he did more than revise.
In 1523 and 1524 first ten new dialogues, afterwards four, and again
six, were added to the _Formulae_, and at last in 1526 the title was
changed to _Familiarium colloquiorum opus_. It remained dedicated to the
boy Froben and went on growing with each new edition: a rich and motley
collection of dialogues, each a masterpiece of literary form, well-knit,
spontaneous, convincing, unsurpassed in lightness, vivacity and fluent
Latin; each one a finished one-act play. From that year on, the stream
of editions and translations flowed almost uninterruptedly for two
centuries.
Erasmus's mind had lost nothing of its acuteness and freshness when, so
many years after the _Moria_, he again set foot in the field of satire.
As to form, the _Colloquies_ are less confessedly satirical than the
_Moria_. With its telling subject, the _Praise of Folly_, the latter at
once introduces itself as a satire: whereas, at first sight, the
_Colloquies_ might seem to be mere innocent genre-pieces. But as to the
contents, they are more satirical, at least more directly so. The
_Moria_, as a satire, is philosophical and general; the _Colloquia_ are
up to date and special. At the same time they combine more the positive
and negative elements. In the _Moria_ Erasmus's own ideal dwells
unexpressed behind the representation; in the _Colloquia_ he continually
and clearly puts it in the foreground. On this account they form,
notwithstanding all the jests and mockery, a profoundly serious moral
treatise and are closely akin to the _Enchiridion militis Christiani_.
What Erasmus really demanded of the world and of mankind, how he
pictured to himself that passionately desired, purified Christian
society of good morals, fervent faith, simplicity and moderation,
kindliness, toleration and peace--this we can nowhere else find so
clearly and well-expressed as in the _Colloquia_. In these last fifteen
years of his life Erasmus resumes, by means of a series of
moral-dogmatic disquisitions, the topics he broached in the
_Enchiridion_: the exposition of simple, general Christian conduct;
untrammelled and natural ethics. That is his message of redemption. It
came to many out of _Exomologesis_, _De esu carnium_, _Lingua_,
_Institutio christiani matrimonii_, _Vidua christiana_, _Ecclesiastes_.
But, to far larger numbers, the message was contained in the
_Colloquies_.
The _Colloquia_ gave rise to much more hatred and contest than the
_Moria_, and not without reason, for in them Erasmus attacked persons.
He allowed himself the pleasure of ridiculing his Louvain antagonists.
Lee had already been introduced as a sycophant and braggart into the
edition of 1519, and when the quarrel was assuaged, in 1522, the
reference was expunged. Vincent Dirks was caricatured in _The Funeral_
(1526) as a covetous friar, who extorts from the dying testaments in
favour of his order. He remained. Later sarcastic observations were
added about Beda and numbers of others. The adherents of Oecolampadius
took a figure with a long nose in the _Colloquies_ for their leader:
'Oh, no,' replied Erasmus, 'it is meant for quite another person.'
Henceforth all those who were at loggerheads with Erasmus, and they were
many, ran the risk of being pilloried in the _Colloquia_. It was no
wonder that this work, especially with its scourging mockery of the
monastic orders, became the object of controversy.
* * * * *
Erasmus never emerged from his polemics. He was, no doubt, serious when
he said that, in his heart, he abhorred and had never desired them; but
his caustic mind often got the better of his heart, and having once
begun to quarrel he undoubtedly enjoyed giving his mockery the rein and
wielding his facile dialectic pen. For understanding his personality it
is unnecessary here to deal at large with all those fights on paper.
Only the most important ones need be mentioned.
Since 1516 a pot had been boiling for Erasmus in Spain. A theologian of
the University at Alcala, Diego Lopez Zuniga, or, in Latin, Stunica, had
been preparing Annotations to the edition of the New Testament: 'a
second Lee', said Erasmus. At first Cardinal Ximenes had prohibited the
publication, but in 1520, after his death, the storm broke. For some
years Stunica kept persecuting Erasmus with his criticism, to the
latter's great vexation; at last there followed a _rapprochement_,
probably as Erasmus became more conservative, and a kindly attitude on
the part of Stunica.
No less long and violent was the quarrel with the syndic of the
Sorbonne, Noel Bedier or Beda, which began in 1522. The Sorbonne was
prevailed upon to condemn several of Erasmus's dicta as heretical in
1526. The effort of Beda to implicate Erasmus in the trial of Louis de
Berquin, who had translated the condemned writings and who was
eventually burned at the stake for faith's sake in 1529, made the matter
still more disagreeable for Erasmus.
It is clear enough that both at Paris and at Louvain in the circles of
the theological faculties the chief cause of exasperation was in the
_Colloquia_. Egmondanus and Vincent Dirks did not forgive Erasmus for
having acridly censured their station and their personalities.
More courteous than the aforementioned polemics was the fight with a
high-born Italian, Alberto Pio, prince of Carpi; acrid and bitter was
one with a group of Spanish monks, who brought the Inquisition to bear
upon him. In Spain 'Erasmistas' was the name of those who inclined to
more liberal conceptions of the creed.
In this way the matter accumulated for the volume of Erasmus's works
which contains, according to his own arrangement, all his _Apologiae_:
not 'excuses', but 'vindications'. 'Miserable man that I am; they just
fill a volume,' exclaimed Erasmus.
Two of his polemics merit a somewhat closer examination: that with
Ulrich von Hutten and that with Luther.
[Illustration: XXI. MARTIN LUTHER AS A MONK]
[Illustration: XXII. ULRICH VON HUTTEN]
Hutten, knight and humanist, the enthusiastic herald of a national
German uplift, the ardent hater of papacy and supporter of Luther, was
certainly a hot-head and perhaps somewhat of a muddle-head. He had
applauded Erasmus when the latter still seemed to be the coming man and
had afterwards besought him to take Luther's side. Erasmus had soon
discovered that this noisy partisan might compromise him. Had not one of
Hutten's rash satires been ascribed to him, Erasmus? There came a time
when Hutten could no longer abide Erasmus. His knightly instinct reacted
on the very weaknesses of Erasmus's character: the fear of committing
himself and the inclination to repudiate a supporter in time of danger.
Erasmus knew that weakness himself: 'Not all have strength enough for
martyrdom,' he writes to Richard Pace in 1521. 'I fear that I shall, in
case it results in a tumult, follow St. Peter's example.' But this
acknowledgement does not discharge him from the burden of Hutten's
reproaches which he flung at him in fiery language in 1523. In this
quarrel Erasmus's own fame pays the penalty of his fault. For nowhere
does he show himself so undignified and puny as in that 'Sponge against
Hutten's mire', which the latter did not live to read. Hutten,
disillusioned and forsaken, died at an early age in 1523, and Erasmus
did not scruple to publish the venomous pamphlet against his former
friend after his demise.
Hutten, however, was avenged upon Erasmus living. One of his adherents,
Henry of Eppendorff, inherited Hutten's bitter disgust with Erasmus and
persecuted him for years. Getting hold of one of Erasmus's letters in
which he was denounced, he continually threatened him with an action for
defamation of character. Eppendorff's hostility so thoroughly
exasperated Erasmus that he fancied he could detect his machinations and
spies everywhere even after the actual persecution had long ceased.
FOOTNOTES:
[18] Melanchthon, _Opera, Corpus Reformatorum_, XII 266, where he refers
to _Querela pacis_, which, however, was not written before 1517; _vide_
A. 603 and I p. 37.10.