YALE UNIVERSITY LIBRARY From the Estate of ALBERT G. KELLER &!£»"•• / cSftsiTZ* -£>&+*£ /^# Sri /7**+r- e~++* ,. Ji 1K1 Wi iE-iPilLlL ,r)'/A«JlSllKW It ;.J>rM it/i'i>?x$i/!Jj tit '..ii / .-¦>' frng/sss-i/i r. '¦!¦''. :• .'/' JJlS'.i'i V.r.'/Mt. f^!.iri ', /.-¦' 7 L-C titfpzrf-ihrttjr.m- etui Clerks 1 jT4 3 MARTIN LUTHER UI-RW, Till'. DIKTAT WORMS New York, 20th April, 1847. Tjiis Edition of D'Atjbigne's History is printed from new Stereotype Plates, furnished by Messrs. Oliver and Boyd of Edin- burgh, from a set Revised and Corrected by the Author himself, and is the only Authorized Octavo edition in this country. For accuracy and neatiiesss it is believed to be greatly superior to any Edition yet offered, and at One Dollar per Copy, in this handsome form, it is certainly one of the cheapest books ever published. By a reference to the Author's new Preface it will be seen that "numerous corrections and additions, frequently of importance," have been made, and that he acknowledges this translation as the only faithful expression of his thoughts in the English language. ROBERT CARTER. c-- r.-*** +*tA>*ts^ HISTORY THE REFORMATION SIXTEENTH CENTURY. By J. H. MERLE D'AUBIGNE, D.D.. PBESIDBNT OF THE THEOLOGICAL SCHOOL OF GENEVA, AND VICE-PRESIDENT OP THE SOCTETE EVANGELIQUE : VOLUMES I. to IV. VOLUMES I., II., AND III., TEANSLATED BT H. WHITE, B.A. TEINITT COLLEGE, CAMBBIDGE, M.A. AND PH. DE HEIDELBEEG, AND CABEFULLT EEVISED BT THE AUTHOE, WHO HAS MADE NUMEBOUS IMPORTANT ADDITIONS NOT TO BE FOUND IN ANT OTHEE TRANSLATION ; A KB TOL. TV. BEING THE ENGLISH ORIGINAL BT DR. D'AUBIGNE, ASSISTED BT DB. WHITE. | NEW YORK: PUBLISHED BY ROBERT CARTER, 58 CANAL STREET. PITTSBURG: 56 MARKET STREET. 1847. sf-lftsC s&n^yr j^r?~£- ^u^?^? ....... 82 BOOK III. THE INDULGENCES AND THE THESES. 1517 MAY 1518. CHAPTER I. Procession— Tetzel — Tetzel's Sermon — Confession — Four Graces— Sale— Public Penance— Letter of Indulgence— Ex ceptions— Amusements and Dissipation, . Page 85 CHAPTER II. * The Franciscan Confessor— The Soul in the Burial-ground— The Shoemaker of Haeenau— The Student b— Myconius— Conversation with Tetzel— Trick of a Nobleman— Re marks of the Wise and of the People— A Miner of Schnee- berg, ....... 89 CHAPTER III. Leo X.— The Pope's Necessities— Albert— His Character— Farming the Indulgences— Franciscans and Domini cans, ....... 92 CHAPTER IV. Tetzel approaches— Luther in the Confessional— Tetzel's Anger— Luther has no Plan— Jealousy of Orders— Luther's Sermon— The Elector's Dream, . , page 93 CHAPTER V. Festival of All-Salnts— Theses— Their Strength— Modera tion— Providence— Letter to Albert— Indifference of the Bishops— Dissemination of the Theses, . 96 CHAPTER VI. Beuchlln— Erasmua-Flek-Blbra— The Emperor— ThePope — MyconiuB-The Monks-Apprehensions— Adelman-An a?e4 Prfest-The Bishon-The Elector-The Townspeople of Erfurth— Luther's Answer— Disorder— Luther's Main spring, 10I CONTENTS. CHAPTER VII. Tetzel's Attack— Luther's Reply— Good Works— Luther and Spalatin— Study of Scripture— Scheurl and Luther— DoubtB on the Theses— Luther pleads for the People— A New Coat, Page 105 CHAPTER VIII. Frankfort Discussion — Tetzel's Theses — Menaces— Knip- strow's Opposition— Luther's Theses burnt— The Monks —Luther's Peace— Tetzel's Theses burnt— Grief of Lu ther, 108 CHAPTER IX. Prierlo— System of Rome— Dialogue— SyBtem of Reform— AnBwer to Prierlo— The Word— The Pope and the Church — Hochstraten— The MonkB— Luther Replies— Eck— The School— The Obelisks— Luther's Sentiments— The Aste risks—Rupture, Page ill CHAPTER X. Popular Writings— The Lord's Prayer— Our Father— Who art in Heaven— Hallowed be thy Name— Thy Kingdom come— Thy Will be done— Our Daily Bread— Sermon on Repentance— Remission of Sins coineth from Christ, lis CHAPTER XI. Apprehensions of his Friends— Journey to Heidelberg— Bibra —Palatine Palace— Rupture— The Paradoxes— Disputa tion— The Audience— Bucer— Brentz— Snepf— Conversa tions with Luther— Labours of these young Doctors— Ef fects on Luther— The aged Professor— The True Light- Arrival, 118 BOOK IV. LUTHER BEFORE THE LEGATE. MAY TO DECEMBER 1518. CHAPTER I. The Resolutions— Repentance— Papacy— Leo X.— Luther to his Bishop— Luther to the Pope— Luther to the Vicar-Ge neral— Rovera to the Elector— Sermon on Excommunica tion—Influence and Strength of Luther, . Page 122 CHAPTER II. Diet at AugBburg— The Emperor to the Pope— The Elector to Rovera— Luther summoned to Rome— Luther's Peace —Intercession of the University— Papal Brief— Luther s Indignation— The Pope to the Elector, . . 126 CHAPTER III. The Armourer Schwartzerd— His Wife— Philip— His Genius and Studies— The Bible— Call to Wittemberg— Melanc- thon's Departure and Journey— Leipslo— Mistake— Lu ther's Joy— Parallel— Revolution in Education— Study of Greek 129 CHAPTER IV. Sentiments of Luther and Staupltz— SummonB to appear- Alarm and Courage— The Elector with the Legate— De parture for Augsburg— Sojourn at Weimar— Nuremberg- Arrival at Augsburg 132 CHAPTER V. De Vlo— His Character— Serra Longa— Preliminary Conver sation—Visit of the Councillors— Return of Serra Longa — The Prior— Luther's Discretion— Luther and Serra Longa— The Bale-conduct— Luther to Melancthon, 135 CHAPTER VI. First Appearance— First Words— Conditions of Rome— Pro positions to be retracted— Luther's Answer— He withdraws —Impression on both Parties— Arrival of Staupltz, Page 136 CHAPTER VII. Second Interview— Luther's Declaration— The Legate's An- swer— His Volubility— Luther's Request, . . 141 CHAPTER VIII. Third Interview— Treasure of Indulgences— Faith— Humble Petition— Legate's Reply— Luther's Answer— The Legate's Anger— Luther withdraws— First Defection, . 143 CHAPTER IX. De Vio and Staupltz— Staupltz and Luther— Luther to Spalatin— Luther to Carlstadt— The Communion— Link and De Vio— Departure of Link and Staupitz— Luther to Cajetan— Cardinal's Silence— Luther's Farewell— Depar ture— Appeal to Rome, .... 145 CHAPTER X. Luther's Flight— Admiration— Luther's Desire— The Legate to the Elector— The Elector to the Legate— Prosperity of the University, M» CHAPTER XI. Thoughts on Departure— Farewell to the Church— Critical Momenta Deliverance— Luther's Courage— Dissatisfaction at Rome— Bull— Appeal to a Council, . . IK CONTENTS TO VOLUME SECOND. BOOK V. THE LEIPSIC DISPUTATION. 1519. CHAPTER I. Luther's Danger— God preserves Luther— The Pope sends a Chamberlain — The Legate's Journey. — Roman Briefs — Circumstances favourable to the Reform— Mil tltz with Spalatin— Tetzel's Alarm— Miltitz'B Flattery— Demands a Retractation— Luther refuses, but offers to keep Silence —Agreement between Luther and the Nuncio— The Le gate's Kiss— Tetzel reproached by the Legate— Luther to the Pope— Nature of the Reformation—Luther opposes Separation— De Vio and Miltitz at Treves— Luther's Cause extends over various Countries— Luther's Writings begin the Reformation, . Page 155 CHAPTER II. Pause in Germany— Eck revives the [Contest— Disputation between Eck and Carlstadt — Question of the Pope— Lu ther replies— Fears of Luther's Friends— Luther's Courage — The Truth triumphs unaided— Refusal of Duke George —Gaiety of Mosell anus— Fears of Erasmus, . 161 CHAPTER III. Arrival of Eck and of the Wlttembergers— Amsdorff— The Students— Carlstadt's Accident— Placard— Eck and Lu ther—The Plelssenburg— Judges proposed— Luther objects —He consents at last, .... 164 CHAPTER IV. Opening of the Disputation— Speech of Mosellanus— Fern, Sancte Spiritus— Portraits of Luther and Carlstadt— Doc tor Eck— Carlstadt's Books— Merit of Con grulty— Natural Powers— Scholastic Distinction— Point at which Home and the Reformation diverge— Liberty given to Man by Grace— Carlstadt's Notes— Clamour of the Spectators— Melancthon during the Disputation— His Opinion— Eck's Manoeuvres— Luther Preaches— Citizens of Leipsic— Quar rels between the Students and Doctors, . Page 166 CHAPTER V. The Hierarchy and Rationalism— The Two Peasants' Sons —Eck and Luther begin— The Head of the Church— Pri macy of Rome — Equality of Bishops — Peter the Founda tion-stone — Christ the Corner-stone— Eck insinuates that Luther is a Hussite— Luther on the doctrine of Huss— Agitation among the Hearers— The Word alone — The Court-fool— Luther at Mass— Saying of the Duke— Purga tory— Close of the Discussion, . ... 170 CHAPTER VI. Interest felt by the Laity— Luther's Opinion— Confession and Boasts of Doctor Eck— Effects of the Disputation— Pollander— Cellarlus— The Young Prince of Anhalt^The Students of Leipsic — Cruciger— Melancthon's Call— Lu ther's Emancipation, , , , ,175 CHAPTER VII. Eck attacks Melancthon— Melancthon's Defence— Interpre tation of Holy Scripture— Luther's Firmness— The Bohe mian Brothers— Emser— Staupitz, ... 177 CHAPTER VIII. The Epistle to the Gal atians— Christ for us— Blindness of Luther's Opponents— Earliest Ideas on the Lord's Supper —Is the Sacrament without Faith sufficient 1— Luther a Bohemian— Eck attacked— Eck goes to Rome, . 179 BOOK VI. THE PAPAL BULL. 1520. CHAPTER I. Hharacter of Maximilian— Candidates for the Empire- Charles— Francis L— Disposition of the Germans— The Crown offered to Frederick — Charles elected: Empe ror Page 181 CHAPTER II. Luther's Letter to the Emperor— His Danger— Frederick's Instructions to his Envoy at Rome— Luther's Sentiments —Melancthon's Fears— The German Nobles favour the Reformation— Schaumburg—S ickin gen— Ulric of Hiitten —Luther's Confidence— Erasmus defends Luther— Abste- mius — Hedio— Luther becomes more free— Faith the Source of Works— What gives Faith j— Luther judging his own Writings, . ... 183 CHAPTER III. The Papacy Attacked-Appeal to the Nobllity-The three Walls— AU Christians are Priests— The Magistrate should chastise the Clergy— Koman Corruptions— Ruin of Italy- Dangers of Germany-The Pope— The Legates— The Monks-Marriage of Priests-Celibacy— Festivals— Tho Bohemians-Chanty- The Universities— Tho Empire- The Emperor should retake Kome-Onpublished Book- Luther's Moderation— Success of the Address, . 167 CHAPTER IV. Preparations at Rome— Motives for Papal Resistance— Eck at Rome— The King of Crowns— Eck prevails— The Pope is the World— God brings about the Separation— A Swiss Priest pleads for Luther— The Roman Consistory— Exor dium of the Bull— Luther condemned, . . 191 CONTENTS. CHAPTER V. Wittemberg— Melancthon— His Marriage— Catherine— Do mestic Life— Benevolence— Good Humour— Christ and Antiquity— Labour— Love of Letters— His Mother— Revolt of the .Students, .... Page 195 CHAPTER VI. The Gospel In Italy— Sermon on the Mass— Babylonish Captivity of the Church— Baptism— Abolition of other Vows— Progress of Reform, ... 197 CHAPTER VII. Fresh Negotiations— The Augustines at Eisleben— Miltitz— Deputation to Luther— Miltitz and tho Elector-Con ference at Lichtemberg— Luther's Letter to the Pope- Book presented to the Pope— Union of Christ with the Believer— Liberty and Bondage, ... 198 CHAPTER VIII. The Bull in Germany— Eck's Reception— The Bull at Wit temberg— Zwingle's Intervention, . .203 CHAPTER IX. Luther's Appeal to God— His Opinion of the Bull— A Neutral Family— Luther on the Bull— Against the Bull of Anti christ—The Pope forbids Faith— Effects of the Bull— The Burning Pile of Louvain, . . . Page 201 CHAPTER X. Decisive Step of the Reformer— Luther's Appeal to a Gene ral Council— Close Combat— The Bull burnt by Luther- Meaning of this daring Act— Luther in the Academy- Luther against the Pope— NewWork by Melancthon— How Luther encourages his Friends— Progress of the Struggle — Melancthon's Opinions on the Weak-hearted — Luther's Treatise on the Bible— Doctrine of Grace— Luther's Re cantation, . . .... 207 CHAPTER XI. Coronation of Charles the Fifth— The Nuncio Aleander— Shall Luther's Books be Burnt T— Aleander and the Empe ror—The Nuncios and the Elector— Duke John's Son in Behalf of Luther— Luther's Calmness— The Elector pro tects Luther— Reply of the Nuncios— Erasmus at Cologne —Erasmus at the Elector's— Declaration of Erasmus— Ad vice of Erasmus— System of Charles V. . . 210 CHAPTER XII. Luther on Confession— Real Absolution— Antichrist— Lu ther's Popularity — Satires — Ulrlch of Hiitten— Lucas Cranach— The Carnival at Wittemberg— Staupltz intimi dated—Luther's Labours— His Humility— Progress of the Reformation, ... . . 214 BOOK VII. THE DIET OF WORMS. 1521, JANUARY TO MAY. CHAPTER I. I CHAPTER VI. VJctories of the Word of -God— The Diet of Worms— Policy of Rome— Difficulties — Charles demands Luther— The Elector to Charles V.— State of Feeling— Alarm of Alean der — Ths Elector departs without Luther — Aleander arouses Rome— Excommunication of Pope and Commu nion with Ohrlst^-Fulminatlons of the Bull— Luther's Motives in the Reformation, . . Page 218 CHAPTER II. A Foreign Prince— Council of Politicians— Conference be tween the ConfesBor and the Chancellor— Inutility of these Manoeuvres— Aleander"s Activity— Luther's Words -Charles yields to the Pope, ... 222 CHAPTER III. Aleander Introduced to the Diet— Aleander's Speech— Lu ther Is accused— Rome is Justified— Appeal to Charles against Luther— Effect of the Nuncio's Speech, 235 CHAPTER IV. SentlmentB of the Princes— Speech of Dake George— Cha racter of the Reformation— One Hundred and One Griev ances— Charles gives Way— Aleander's Stratagems— The Grandees of Spain— Peace of Luther— Death and no Re tractation, 227 CHAPTER V. Shall Luther have a Safe-conduct— The SafMonduct— Will Luther come— Holy Thursday at Rome— The Pope and Luther, . 229 Luther's Courage— Bugenhagen at Wittemberg— Persecu tions in Pomerania— Melancthon desires to accompany Luther— Amsdorff, Schurff and Suaven— Hiitten to Charles V. . . • • Page 234 CHAPTER VII. Departure for the Diet of Worms— Luther's Farewell— His Condemnation is posted up— Cavalcade near Erfurth— Meeting between Jonas andLuther — Luther in his former Convent — Luther preaches at Erfurth— Incident— Faith and Works — Concourse of People and Luther's Courage- Luther's Letter to Spalatin— Stay at Frankfort— Fears at Worms— Plan of the Imperialists— Luther's Firm- nesB, .,...,. 234 CHAPTER VIII. Entry Into Worms— Death-Song— Charles's Council— Oapito and the Temporizers— Luther's numerous Visiters— Cita tion— Hiitten to Luther— Luther proceeds to the Diet- Saying of Freundsberg— Imposing Assembly— The Chan cellor's Speech— Luther's Reply— His Discretion— Saying of Charles V.— Alarm— Triumph — Luther's Firmness- Violence of the Spaniards— Advice— Luther's Struggles and Prayer— Strength of the Reformation— His Vow to the Scriptures— The Court of the Diet— Luther's Speech- Three Classes of Writings— He requires Proof of his Errors —Serious Warnings— He repeats his Speech in Latm- Here I stand : I can say no more— The Weakness of God stronger than Man— A new Attempt— Victory, . 238 CHAPTER IX. Tumult and"-CaImness--The Flagon of Duke Eric— Tho Elector and Spalatin— The Emperor's Message— Proposal to violate the Safe-conduct— Violent Opposition— Enthu siasm In favour of Luther— Language of Conciliation— Fears of the Elector— Luther's numerous Visiters— Philip of Hesse, . .... 246 CONTENTS. CHAPTER X. Conference with the Archbishop of Treves— Wehe's Exhor tation to Luther— Luther's Replies— Private Conversa tion—Visit of Cochlceus— Supper at the Archbishop's— Conference at the Hotel of the Knights of Rhodes— A Council proposed— Luther's last Interview with the Arch bishop—Visit to a sick Friend— Luther receives Orders to leave Worms— Luther's Departure, . Page 249 CHAPTER XL The Conflict at Worms— Luther»s Letter to Cranach— La ther's Letter to Charles V.— Luther with the Abbot of Hirschfeldt— The Parish Priest of Eisenach— Several Princes leave the Diet— Charles signs Luther's Condem nation—The Edict of Worms— Luther with his Parents- Luther attacked and carried away— The Ways of God— The Wartburg— Luther a Prisoner, . . Page 252 BOOK VIII. the swiss. 1484 — 1522. CHAPTER I. Movement in Switzerland— Source of the' Reformation— Its democratic Character— Foreign Service— Morality— The Tockenburg— A Chalet on the Alps— A Family of Shep herds—Young Ulrich, . . Page 257 CHAPTER II. Ulrich at Wesen and Basle— Ulrich at Berne— The Domini can Convent— Jetzer— The Apparitions— Passion of the Lay-brother— Imposture — Discovery and Punishment— Zwingle at Vienna and Basle— Music at Basle— Wittem- bach proclaims the Gospel— Leo Juda— The Priest of Glaris, 259 CHAPTER III. Fondness for War— Schinner— Pension from the Pope— The Labyrinth— Zwingle in Italy— Principle of Reform— Zwin gle and Luther— Zwingle and Erasmus— Zwingle and the ancient Classics— Paris and Glaris, . . 262 CHAPTER IV. Zwingle to Erasmus— Oswald Myconius— The Robbers— Gilcolam pad ius— Zwingle at Marignan— Zwingle and Italy — Zwingle's Method— Commencement of the Reform— Dis covery— Passage from one World to the other, . 265 CHAPTER V. Our Ladyof Einsldlen— Zwingle's Call— The Abbot— Gerold- sek— A learned Society— The Bible copied— Zwingle and Superstition — First Opposition to Error— Sensation— Iftdio— Zwingle and the Legates— The Honours of Rome— The Bishop of Constance— Samson and the Indulgences— Stapfer— Zwingle's Charity— His Friends, . 268 CHAPTER VI. The Canons* College— Election to the Cathedral— Fable- Accusations— Zwingle's Confession— Development of God's Purposes — Farewell to Einsldlen — Arrival at Zurich — Zwingle's bold Declaration— First Sermons— Their Effect — Opposition — Zwingle's Character — Taste for Music — Arrangement ofthe Day— The Book-hawker, . 272 CHAPTER VII. The Indulgences— Samson at Berne and at Eaden— The Dean of Bremgar ten— Young Henry Bulltnger— Samson and the Dean— Zwingle's internal Struggles— Zwingle opposes the Indulgences— Samson is sent back, , . 276 CHAPTER VIII. Zwingle's Tolls and Fatigue— The Baths of Pfeffers— The Moment of God— The Great Death— Zwingle attacked by the Plague — His Adversaries — His Friends— Convales cence— General Joy— Effects of the Pestilence— Myconius at Lucerne— Oswald encourages Zwingle— Zwingle at Basle— Caplto invited to Mentz— Hedio at Basle— The Unnatural Son— Preparations for the Struggle, Page 279 CHAPTER IX. The Two Reformers— The Fall of Man— Expiation of the Man-God— No Merit in Works— Objections refuted — Power of Love for Christ— Election— Christ the sole Master- Effects of this Preaching— Dejection and Courage— First Act of the Magistrate — Church and State— Attacks— Galster, ....... 283 CHAPTER X. A new Combatant— The Reformer of Berne— Zwingle en courages Haller— The Gospel at Lucerne— Oswald perse cuted— Zwingle's Preaching— Henry Bullinger and Gerold of Knonau— Rubli at Basle— The Chaplain of the Hos pital—War In Italy— Zwingle protests against the Capitu lations, ....... 286 CHAPTER XI. Zwingle opposes Human Traditions— Commotion during Lent— Truth triumphs amidst Opposition— The Bishop's Deputies— Accusation before the Clergy and the Council- Appeal to the Great Council— The Coadjutor and Zwingle —Zwingle's Reply— Decree of the Great Council— Posture of Affairs— Hoffman's Attack, . . 290 CHAPTER XII. ^SS.™^8^*114 Joy in Germany— Plots against Zwingle— The Bishop's Mandate— Archeteles— The Bishop's Appeal to the Diet— Injunction against attacking the Monks— Zwingle's Declaration— TheNuns of OZtenbaeh— Zwingle's Address to Schwytz, , . 293 CHAPTER XIII. A French Monk— He teaches in Switzerland— Dispute he. tween Zwingle and the Honk— Discourse of the Com mander*/ the Johannites— The Carnival at Berne— The Eaters of the Dead-Tho Skull of St. Anne-Appenzel —The Grisons— Murder and Adultery— Zwingle's Mar- rIaSe> 295 CHAPTER XIV. How the Truth triumphs-Meeting at Einsidlen-Petition to the Bishop and Confederates-Tho Men of Einsldlen separate-Scene in a Convent-Dinner with Mycoilus- -*he Strength ofthe Reformers-Effect of the FetiUoM to Lucerne-The Council of the Diet-Haller at the Town- hall -Friburg -Oswald's Destitution-Zwinelo consoles him-Oswald quits Lucerne-The Diet's first Act of Seve nty— Consternation of Zwingle's Brothers— Zwintrle'aRe. Bolution-Tho Future-Zwingle's Prayer, . m CONTENTS TO VOLUME THIRD. BOOK IX. FIRST REFORMS. 1521 AND 1522. CHAPTER I. Progress of the Reformation— New Period— Usefulness of Luther's Captivity in the Warthurg— Agitation in Ger many— Melancthon and Luther — Enthusiasm, Page 309 CHAPTER II. Luther In the Warthurg— Object of his Captivity— Anxiety- Sickness— Luther's Labours— On Confession— Reply to Latomus— His daily Walks, . ... 312 CHAPTER III. Commencement of the Reform— Marriage of Feldklrchen— The Marriage of Monks— Theses— Tract against Mona- chlsm— Luther no longer a Mouk, . . 315 CHAPTER IV. Archbishop Albert— The Idol of Halle— Luther's Indigna tion — Alarm of the Court— Luther's Letter to the Arch bishop—Albert's Reply— Joachim of Brandenburg, 316 CHAPTER V. Translation of the Bible— Wants of the Church— Principles of the Reformation— Temptations of the Devil— Luther's Works condemned by the Sorbonne — Melancthon's Reply —Luther Visits Wittemberg, . . 319 CHAPTER VI. Fresh Reforms — Gabriel Zwilling on the Mass— The Univer sity— Melancthon's Propositions— The Elector— Monastic Institutions attacked — Emancipation of the Monks — Dis turbances—Chapter of the Augustine Monks— Carlstadt and the Mass— First Celebration of the Lord's Supper- Importance of the Mass in the Romish System, 322 CHAPTER VII. False Reform— The New Prophets— The Prophets at Wit temberg— Melancthon— The Elector— Luther— Carlstadt and the Images— Disturbances— Luther is called for— He does not hesitate— Dangers, . . Page 326 CHAPTER VIII. Departure from the Wartburg— New Position— Luther and Primitive Catholicism — Meeting at the Black Bear — Luther's Letter to the Elector— Return to Wittemberg— Sermon at Wittemberg — Charity— The Word— How the Reformation was brought about — Faith in Christ — Its Effects— Didymus— Carlstadt— The Prophets— Interview with Luther— End of the Struggle, ... 330 CHAPTER IX. Translation of the New Testament— Faith and Scripture- Opposition— Importance of this Publication— Necessity for a systematic Arrangement— Melancthon's Loci Com munes—Original Sin — Salvation — Free Will— Effects of the Loci Communes, ..... 337 CHAPTER X. Opposition— Henry VIII.— Wolsey— The Queen— Fisher- Sir Thomas More— Luther's Books burnt— Henry's attack on Luther— Presented to the Pope— Its Effect on Luther —Energy and Violence— Luther's Reply— Answer by tho Bishop of Rochester— Reply of Sir Thomas More— Henry's Proceedings, , 340 CHAPTER XI. General Movement — The Monks— How tho Reformation was carried on— Unlearned Believer— The Old and the New Doctors— Printing and Literature— Bookselling and Colportage, ...... 345 CHAPTER XII. Luther at Zwickau — The Castle of Freyberg — Worms- Frankfort— Universal Movement— Wittemberg the Centre of the Reformation— Luther's Sentiments, . 348 BOOK X. AGITATION, REVERSES, AND PROGRESS. 1522 1526. CHAPTER I. Political Element— Want of Enthusiasm at Rome— Siege of Pampeluna— Courage of Ignatius— Transition— Luther and Loyola— Visions— Two Principles, . Page 351 CHAPTER II. Victory of the Pope— Death of Leo X.— The Oratory of Di vine LoveH-Adrlan VI.— Plan of Reform=^Oppositlon, 355 CHAPTER III. Diet of Nuremberg— tollman's Invasion— The Nuncio calls for Luther's Death— The Nuremberg Preachers— Promise of Reform— The Nuncio's Alarm— Grievances of the Na tion—Decree of the Diet— Fulminating Letter of the Pope— Luther's Advice, .... 356 CHAPTER IV. Persecution— Exertions of Duke George— The" Convent at Antwerp— MHtenberg— The Three Monks of Antwerp— The Scaffold— The Martyrs of Brussels, . Page 360 CHAPTER V. The New Pope, Clement VII.— The Legate Campeggio— Diet of Nuremberg— Demand of the Legate— Reply ofthe Diet— A Secular Council projected— Alarm and Exertions of the Pope— Bavaria— League of Ratisbon— Campeggio' s Dishonesty— Severity and Reforms — Political Schism- Opposition— Intrigues of Rome— Decree of Burgos— Rup ture, 363 CHAPTER VI. Persecution— Gaspard Tauber— A Bookseller— Cruelties In Wurtemberg, Salzburg, and Bavaria— Pomerania— Henry ofZuphten, 366 CHAPTER VII. Bivislons— The Lord's Supper— Two Extremes — Hoen's Discovery— Wessel on the Lord's Supper— Carlstadt— Lu ther— Mysticism of the Anabaptists— Carlstadt at Orla- mund— Luther's Mission— Interview at Table— The Confer ence of Orlamund— Carlstadt Banished, . Page 368 CHAPTER VIII. Progress— Resistance against the Ratisbon Leaguers— Meet ing between Philip of Hesse and Melancthon— The Land grave converted to the Gospel— The Palatinate— Luneburg —Holstein— The Grand-Ma3ter at Wittemberg, . 372 CHAPTER IX. Reforms— All-Salnts Church— Fall of the Mass— Learning- Christian Schools— Learning extended to the Laity— The Arts — Moral Religion — Esthetical Religion— Music- Poetry— Painting, .... 374 CHAPTER X. Political Ferment — Luther against Rebellion — Thomas , Munzer— Agitation— The Black Forest— The Twelve Ar ticles—Luther's Opinion — Helfenstein— March of the Peasants— March of the Imperial Army— Defeat of the Peasants— Cruelty of the Princes, . . page 377 CHAPTER XI. Munzer at Mulhausen— Appeal to the People— March of the Princes—End of the Revolt — Influence of the Reformers- Sufferings— Changes— Two Results, . . 382 CHAPTER XII. Death of the Elector Frederick— The Prince an J the Re former—Roman-catholic Alliance— Plans of Charles the Fifth— Dangers, 385 CHAPTER XIII. The Nuns of Nimptsch— Luther*E Sentiments— The Convent dissolved— Luther's Marriage— Domestic Happiness, 387 CHAPTER XIV. The Landgrave— The Elector— Prussia— Reformation— Se cularization— The Archbishop of Mentz — Conference at Friedwalt— Diet — Alliance of Torgau— Resistance of the Reformers— Alliance of Magdeburg— The Catholics re double their Exertions— The Emperor's Marriage— Threat ening Letters— The Two Parties, ... 389 BOOK XL DIVISIONS. SWITZERLAND CfERMANY. 1523—1527. CHAPTER I. Unity in Diversity— Primitive Fidelity and Liberty— For mation of Romish Unity— Leo Juda and the Monk— Zwingle's Theses— The Disputation of January, Page 393 CHAPTER II. Papal Temptations— Progress of the Reformation— The Idol at Stadelhofcn — Sacrilege — The Ornaments of the Saints, 395 CHAPTER III. The Disputation of October— Zwingle on the Church— The Church— Commencement of Presbyterianism— Discussion on the Mass— Enthusiasts— The Language of Discretion —Victory— A Characteristic of the Swi3s Reformation- Moderation— Oswald Myconius at Zurich— Revival of Li- ' terature— Thomas Plater of the Valais, . . 397 CHAPTER IV. Diet of Lucerne— Hottlnger arrested— His Death— Deputa tion from the Diet to Zurich— Abolition of Religious Pro cessions—Abolition of Images— The Two Reformations— " Appeal to the People, . . 400 CHAPTER V. New Opposition— Abduction of OJJxlin— The Family of the Wtrths— The Populace at the Convent of Ittingen— The Diet of Zug— The Wirths apprehended and given up to the Diet— Their Condemnation, ... 403 CHAPTER VI. Abolition of the Mass— Zwingle's Dream— Celebration of the Lord's Supper— Fraternal Charity— Original Sin— The Oligarchs opposed to the Reform— Various Attacks, 406 CHAPTER VII. Berne— The Provost Watteville-FIrst Successes of the Re formed Doctrines— Haller at the Convent— Accusation "n.d Deliverance— The Monastery of Konigsfeldt— Marga. ret Watteville to Zwingle— The Convent opened— Two Champions— Clara May and the Provost Watteville, 403 CHAPTER VIII. Basle— (EcoIampadluB— He visits Augsburg— Enters a Con vent— Retires to Sicklngen'B Castle— Returns to Basle — —Ulrich Hiitten— His Plans— Last Effort of Chivalry— Hiitten dies at Ufnau, .... Page 411 CHAPTER IX. Erasmus and Luther— Vacillations of Erasmus— Luther to Erasmus — Erasmus's Treatise against Luther on Free Will— Three Opinions— Effect upon Luther — Luther on Free Will— The Jansenlsts and the Reformers— Homage to Erasmus— His Anger— The Three Days, 413 CHAPTER X: The Three Adversaries — Source of Truth— Anabaptism— Anabaptism and Zwingle— Constitution of the Church — Prison— The Prophet Blaurock— Anabaptism at Saint Gall— An Anabaptist Family— Discussion at Zurich — The Limits of the Reformation— Punishment of the Anabap tists, 418 CHAPTER XI. Progression and Immobility— Zwingle and Luther-The Ne therlander at Zurich— Result of Zwingle's inquiries- Luther's Return to Scholasticism— Respect for Tradition —Occam— Contrary Tendency in Zwingle— Beginning of the Controversy— 03colampadlus" and the Swabian Syn- gram ma— Strasburg mediates, . . 421 CHAPTER XXII. The Tockenburg— An Assembly of the People— Reformation —Tho Grisons— Disputation at Ilantz— ResultB— Refor mation at Zurich, ..... 425 CHAPTER XIII. The Oligarchs— Deputation to Berne— Bernese Mandate of 1626 in favour of the Papacy— Discussion at Baden— Regu lations of the Discussion— Riches and Poverty— Eck and tEcolampadius— Discussion— Zwingle's Share in the Dis cussion—Vaunts of the Romanists— Abusive Language of a Monk— Close of the Disputation, . .427 CHAPTER XIV. Consequences at Basle, Berne, Saint Gall, and other Places S" Zurich-Tne small Cantons-Threata against Berne— Foreign Support, ... 430 CONTENTS. BOOK XII. THE FRENCH. 1500 1526. CHAPTER I. Universality of Christianity— Enemies of the Reform in France— Heresy and Persecution in Dauphiny— A country Mansion— The Farel Family— Pilgrimage to the Holy Cross— Immorality and Superstition— William desires to become a Student, . J , page 432 CHAPTER II. Louis XIL and the Assembly of Tours— Francis and Mar garet—Learned Men— Lefevre— His Courses at the Uni versity— Meeting between Lefevre and Farel— Farel's Hesitation and Researches— First Awakening— Lefevro's Prophecy— Teaches JustiEcation by Faith— Objections— Disorder of the Colleges— Effects on Farel— Election— Sanctincation of Life, . . 435 CHAPTER III. Farel and the Saints— The Onlverstty-Farel's Conversion — Farel and Luther— Other Disciples— Date of the Re form in France-Spontaneous Rise of the different Re forms—Which was the first r— Lefevre's Place, . 440 CHAPTER IV. Character of Francis I.— Commencement of Modern Times —Liberty and Obedience— Margaret of Valois— The Court — Bnsonnet, Count of Montbrun— Lefevre commends him to the Bible— Francis I. and " his Children "—The Gospel brought to Margaret— Conversion— Adoration— Margaret's Character, . . . . . .442 CHAPTER V. Enemies of the Reformation— Louisa— Duprat— Concordat of Bologna— Opposition of the Parliament and the Uni versity— The Sorbonne— Beda— His Character— His Ty ranny— Berquin, the most learned of the Nobility— The Intriguers of the Sorbonne— Heresy of the three Magda- lens— Luther condemned at Paris— Address of the Sor bonne to the King— Lefevre quits Paris for Meaux, 445 CHAPTER VI. Brlconnet visits his Diocese— Reform— The Doctors perse cuted in Paris— Philiberta of Savoy— Correspondence be tween Margaret and Brlconnet, ... 449 CHAPTER VII. Beginning of the Church at Meaux— The Scriptures in French— The Artisans and the Bishop— Evangelical Har vest—The Epistles of St. Paul sent to the King— Lefevre and Roma— The Monks before the Bishop— The Monks before the Parliament— Brisonnet's first fall— Lefevre and *arel— Persecution— Francis Lambert— His Noviciate and Apostolic Labours— His Early Struggles— He quits Avig non, 452 CHAPTER VIII. Lefevre and Farel persecuted— Difference between the Lu theran and Reformed Churches— Leclerc posts, up his Placards— Leclerc branded— Berquln's Zeal— Berquin be- ftS.J e ^'ftment—ReBcued by Francis I.-Mazurier>s Apostacy-Fall and Remorse of Pavanne-Metz-Agrlppi P„..C.hS<"aLn_La?,1>e'Lt ttt Wittemberg-EvangWoal Press at Hamburg-Lambert marries-He longs to return «„Zranor~TJ?'! Vs~Petor Tonssaint becomes attcn- „ t^Le.cle'° ^oaks the Images-Leclorc's Condemnation and Torture-Martyrdom of Ohatelalu-Flight, Page 457 CHAPTER IX. Farel and his Brothers— Farel expelled from Bap-He preaches in the FieldB-The Knight Anemond of Coct- lne Minorite— Anemond quits France— Luther to the Duke of Savoy— Farel quits Franco, . . 401 CHAPTER X. Catholicity ofthe Reformation— Friendship between Fare. and Oicolampadius— Farel and Erasmus— Altercatlon- Farel demands a Disputation— Theses— Scripture and Faith— Discussion, . . . . -467 CHAPTER XI. New Campaign— Farel's Call to the Ministry— An Outpost —Lyons— Sebville at Grenoble— Conventicles— Preachins at Lyons— Maigret in Prison— Margaret intimidated, 47u CHAPTER XII. The French at Basle— Encouragement of the Swiss— Fears of Discord— Translating and Printing at Basle— Bibles and Tracts disseminated in France, . . 47ft CHAPTER XIII. Progress at Montbel lard— Resistance and Commotion— Toussaint leaves GScolampadius— The Image of Saint Anthony— Death of Anemond— Strasburg— Lambert's Letter to Francis I.— Successive Defeats, . 475 CHAPTER XIV. Francis mado Prisoner at Pavia— Margaret's anxiety for her Brother— Allegorical Letter— Reaction against the Reformation— Louisa consults the Sorbonne— Commission against the Heretics— Charges against Brfconnet— The Faculty of Paris— The Bishop's Alarm— Appeals to the Parliament— Temptation— His second fall— Consequences —Recantation— Rrfconnet and FGnol on— Lefevre accused —Condemnation and Flight— Lefevre at Strasburg— Louis Berquin imprisoned— Erasmus attacked— He appeals to the Klngand the Emperor— Esch imprisoned— Scnuch at Nancy— His Martyrdom— Beda's Struggle with Caroli— Sorrow of Pavanne— His Martyrdom— A Christian Hermit —Concourse at Notre Dame, . . 479 CHAPTER XV. A Student of Noyon— Character of young Calvin— Early Education— Consecrated to Theology— The Bishop gives him the Tonsure— He leaves Noyon on Account of the Plague — The Two Calvins— Slanders— The Reformation creates new Languages— Persecution and Terror— Marga ret's Letter to her Brother— Toussaint put in Prison— The Persecution more furious— Death of Du Blet, Moulin, and Paplllon— God saves tho Church— Margaret's Project— Her Departure for Spain, ... 489 CONTENTS TO VOLUME FOURTH. BOOK XIII. THE PROTEST AND THE CONFERENCE. 1526 1529. CHAPTER I. Twofold Movement of Reform— Reform the Work 'of God- First Diet of Spires— Palladium of Reform— Firmness of the Reformers— Proceedings of the Diet— Report of the Commissioners— The Papacy painted and described by Luther— The Destruction of Jerusalem— Instructions of Seville— Change of Policy— Holy League— Religious Liber ty proposed— Crisis of the Reformation, . Page 499 CHAPTER II. Italian 'War— The Emperor's Manifesto— March on Rome — Revolt of the Troops— The Sack of Rome— German Hu mours— Violence of the Spaniards— Clement VII. capitu lates, ....... 503 CHAPTER III. Profitable Calm— Constitution of the Church— Philip of Hesse — The Monk of Marburg— Lambert's Paradoxes- Friar Boniface — Disputation at Hamburg — Triumph of the GoBpelln Hesse- -Constitution of the Church— Bishops — Synods — Two Elements of the Church — Luther on the Ministry — Organization of the Church — Luther's Contra dictions on State interference— Luther to the Elector- German Mass — Melancthon's Instructions — Disaffection — Visitation of the Reformed Churches— Results— The Reformation advances— Elizabeth of Brandenburg, 506 CHAPTER IV. Edict of Ofen— Persecutions— TrVinchlcr, Carpenter, and Keyser— Alarm in Germany— Pack's Forgery— League of theRefOTmed Princes- Advice of the Reformers— Luther's Pacific Council— Surprise of the Papist Princes— Pack's Scheme not improbable— Vigour of the Reformation, 513 CHAPTER V. Alliance between Charles and Clement VII.— Omens— Hos. tllityof the Papists— Arbitrary Proposition of Charles- Resolutions of the Diet— The Reformation In Danger- Decision of the Princes— Violence of Ferdinand — The Schism completed Page 617 CHAPTER VI. Tho Protest— Principles of the Protest— Supremacy of the Gospel— Christian Onion— Ferdinand rejects the Protest —Attempt at Conciliation— Exultation of the Papists — Evangelical Appeal— Christian Unity a Reality— Dangers of the Protestants— The Protestants leave Spires— The Princes the True Reformers— Germany and Reform, 520 CHAPTER VII. Union necessary to Reform— Luther's Doctrine on the Lord's Supper— A Lutheran "Warning— Proposed Confer ence at Marburg — Melancthon and Zwingle— Zwingle leaves Zurich — Rumours in Zurich — The Reformers at Marburg— Carlstadt's Petition— Preliminary Discussions — Holy Ghost— Original Sin— Baptism— Luther, Melanc thon. and Zwingle — Opening of the Conference — The Prayer of the Church— Hoc est Corpus Meum — Syllogism of GSoolampadius— The Flesh profiteth nothing— Lam bert convinced— Luther's Old Song— Agitation in the Conference — Arrival of new Deputies — Christ's Humanity finite— Mathematics and Popery— Testimony of the Fa thers—Testimony of Augustine — Argument of the Velvet Cover— End of the Conference — The Landgrave mediates —Necessity of Union— Luther rejects Zwingle's Hand — Sectarian Spirit of the Germans — Bucer*s Dilemma — Christian Charity prevails— Luther^ Report — Unity of Doctrine — Unity in Diversity — Signatures— Two Extremes —Three Views — Germ of Popery— Departure — Luther's Dejection— Turks before Vienna— Luther's Battle-Sermon and Agony— Luther's Firmness— Victory— Exasperation ofthe Papists— Threatening Prospects, . 524 BOOK XIY. THE AUGSBURG CONFESSION. 1530. CHAPTER I. Two striking Lessons— Charles V. in Italy — The German Envoys— Their Boldness— The Landgrave's Present— The Envoys under Arrest— Their Release and Departure- Meeting of Charles and Clemen t— Gat tinara's Proposition — Clement's Arms — War imminent — Luther's Objections — The Saviour is coming— Charles's Conciliatory Language —The Emperor's Motives, . . Page 537 CHAPTER II. The Coronation— The Emperor made a Deacon— The Ro mish Church and the State — Alarm of the Protestants— —Luther advocates Passive Resistance— Briick's noble Advice — Articles of Faith prepared — Luther's Strong Tower— Luther at Coburg— Charles at Innspruck— Two Parties at Court — Gattinara— The King of Denmark won over by Charles— Piety of the Eleotor— Wiles of the Roman ists, 541 CHAPTER III. Augsburg— The Gospel Preached— The Emperor's Message —The Sermons prohibited— Firmness of the Elector— The Elector's Reply— Preparation of the Confession— Luther's Sinai— His Son and his Father— Luther's Merriment- Luther's Diet at Coburg— Saxony, a Paradise below— To the Bishops— Travail or the Church— Charles— The Pope's Letter— Melancthon on Fasting— The Church, the Judge —The Landgrave's catholic Spirit, . . Page 645 CHAPTER IV. Agitation in Augsburg— Violence of the Imperialists- Charles at Munich— Charles's Arrival — The Nuncio's Blessing— The Imperial Procession— Charles's Appear ance—Enters Augsburg— Te Deum— The Benediction- Charles desires the Sermons to be discontinued— Bran denburg offers his Heart— The Emperor's Request for Corpus Christi— F.efusal of the Princes— Agitation of Charles— The Princes oppose Tradition— Procession of Corpus Christi— Exasperation of Charles, 650 CHAPTER V. The Sermons prohibiten— Compromise proposed and ac cepted—The Herald— Curiosity of the Citizens— The new Preachers — The Medley of Popery— Luther encourages l the Princes— Veni Spiritus— Mass of the Holy Ghost— The Sermon— Opening of the Diet— The Elector's Prayer —Insidious Plan of the Romanists— Valdez and Melanc thon— No Public Discussion— Evangelical firmness pre vails, . ..... 554 CONTENTS. xv CHAPTER VI. The Elector's Zeal— The Signing of the Confession— Courage of the Princes— Melancthon's Weakness— The Legate's Speech— Delays— The Confession in Danger— The Protest. ants are arm — Melancthon's Despondency — Luther's Prayer and Anxiety— Luther's Texts— His Letter to Me lancthon— Faith, .... Page 559 CHAPTER VII. The 25fch June 1530— The Palatine Chapel— Recollections and Contrast— The Confession— Prologue— Justification— The Church— Free Will and WorliB— Faith— Interest of the Hearers— The Princes become Preachers— The Confea eion— Abuses— Church and State— The two Governments — Epilogue — Argumentation — Prudence — Church and State— The Sword— Moderate Tone of the Confession— Its Defects— A new Baptism, . . . . 5G3 CHAPTER VIII. Effect on the Romanists— Luther demands Religious Liber ty—His dominant Idea— Song of Triumph— Ingenuous Confessions— Hopes of the Protestants— Failure of the Popish Intrigues— The Emperor's Council— Violent Dis cussions—A Refutation proposed— Its Authors— Rome and the Civil Power— Perils of the Confessors— Melancthon's Minimum— The Emperor's Sister— Melancthon's Fall- Luther opposes Concession— The Legate repels Melanc thon— The Pope's Decision— Question — Melancthon's School-matters— Answer, .... 568 CHAPTER IX. The Refutation— Charles's Dissatisfaction— Interview with the Princes— The Swiss at Augsburg— Tetrapolit an Con fession— Zwingle's Confession— Afflicting Divisions— The Elector's Faith— His Peace— The Lion's Skin— The Refu tation—One Concession— Scripture and the Hierarchy- Imperial Commands— Interview between Melancthon and Cam peggio— Policy of Charles— Stormy Meeting— Resolu tions of the Consistory— The Prayers of the Church— Two Miracles— The Emperor's Menace— The Prince's Courage —The Mask— Negotiations— The Spectres at Spires— Tu mult in Augsburg, .... Page 674 CHAPTER X. Philip of Hesse— Temptation— Union resisted— The Land- grave's Dissimulation— The Emperor's Order to the Pro- testants— Brandenburg's threatening Speeches— Resolu tion of Philip of Hesse— Flight from Augsburg— Discovery —Charles's Emotion — Revolution in the Diet — Metamor phosis-Unusual Moderation— Peace ! Peace ! . 580 CHAPTER XI. The Mixed Commission— The Three Points— Romish Dis simulation— Abuses— Concessions— The Main Question- Bishops and Pope conceded— Danger of Concession— Op position to the pretended Concord— Luther's opposing Letters— The word above the Church— Melancthon's Blindness— Papist Infatuation— A new Commission— Be Men and not Women— The Two Phantoms— Concessions —The Three Points— The great Antithesis— Failure of Conciliation— The Gordian Knot— A Council granted— Charles's Summons— Menaces— Altercations— Peace or War— Romanism concedes— Protestantism resists— Lu ther recalls his Friends,. .... 584 CHAPTER XII. The Elector's Preparatives and Indignation— Recess of Augsburg— Irritating Language— Apology of the Confes sion— Intimidation— Final Interview— Messages of Peace- Exasperation of the Papists— Restoration pf Popery— ru- multinthe Church-Union of the Churches-The Pope and the Emperor— Close of the Diet— Armaments— Attack on Geneva— Joy of the Evangelicals— Establishment of Protestantism, ...... »9l BOOK XV. SWITZERLAND CONQUESTS. 1526 1530. CHAPTER I. OrtemaTity ofthe Swiss Reform— Change- Three Periods pf Reform— Switzerland Romande— The two Movements in the Church— Aggressive Spirit— The Schoolmaster— Fa- rel's new Baptism— Mysticism and Scholasticism— A Door is opened— Opposition— Lausanne— Manners of the Clergy —Farel to Galeotto— Farel and tho Monk-Tbe Tribunal —The Monk cries for Pardon— Opposition of the Ormonds —A false Convert— Christian Unity, . Page 596 CHAPTER II. State— Religion in Berne— Irresolution of Berne— Almanack of Heretics— Evangelical Majority— Haller— Zwingle's Sig nal— Anabaptists m Berne— Victory of the Gospel— Papist Provocations-The City Companies— Proposed Disputa tion—Objections of the Forest Cantons— The Ctrurch, the Judge of Controversies— Unequal Contest— Swingle— A Christian Band— The Cordeliers' Church— Opening of the Conference— The sole Head— Unity of Error— A Priest con verted at the Altar-St. Vincent's Day- The Butchers— A strange Argument— Papist Bitterness— Necessity of Re- form-Zwlngle's Sermon-Visit of the King pf kings- Edict pf Reform— Was the Reformation Political ! 602 CHAPTER III. The Reform accepted by the People— Faith, Purity, and Charity— First Evangelical Communion— Bernese Propo sition to the Diet— Cavern, and Head of Beatus— Threat ening Storm from the Mountains— Revolt— Confusion in Borne— Unterwalden crosses the Brunig— Energy of Berne —Victory— Political Advantages, ... 608 CHAPTER IV. Reformation of St. Gall— Nuns of St. Catherine— Reforma tion of Glaris, Berne, Appenzell, the Grisons, Schaff hau sen. and tho Rhine District— A Popish Miracle— Obstacles in Basle— Zeal of the Citizens— ODcolampadius marries— Witticism of Erasmus— First Action— Half Measures- Petition of the Reformed 612 CHAPTER V. Crisis in Basle-Half-measures re)txjiffius. 10 tinople itself, the new Rome, the second ca pital of the empire. The church of Byzan tium, so long obscure, enjoyed the same pri vileges, and was placed by the council of Chalcedon in the same rank as the Church of Rome. Rome at that time shared the patriarchal supremacy with these three churches. But when the Mahometan inva sion had destroyed the sees of Alexandria and of Antioch, — when the see of Constan tinople fell away, and in later times even separated from the West, Rome remained alone, and the circumstances of the times gathered all the Western Churches around her see, which from that time has been with out a rival. New and more powerful friends than all the rest soon came to her assistance. Igno rance and superstition took possession of the Church, and delivered it, fettered and blind fold, into the hands of Rome. Yet this bondage was not effected without a struggle. Frequently did the Churches proclaim their independence ; and their cou rageous voices were especially heard from Proconsular Africa and from the East.1 But Rome found new allies to stifle the cries of the Churches. Princes, whom those stormy times often shook upon their thrones, offered their protection if Rome would in its turn support them. They conceded to her the spiritual authority, provided she would make a return in secular power. They were lavish of the souls of men, in the hope that she would aid them against their enemies. The power of the hierarchy which was as cending, and the imperial power which was declining, leant thus one upon the other, and by this alliance accelerated their twofold destiny. Rome could not lose by it. An edict of Theodosius II. and of Valentinian III. pro claimed the Roman bishop " rector of the whole Church."2 • Justinian published a simi lar decree. These edicts did not contain all that the popes pretended to see in them ; but in those times of ignorance it was easy for them to secure that interpretation which was most favourable to themselves. The domi nion of the emperors in Italy becoming daily more precarious, the bishops of Rome took advantage of this circumstance to free them selves from their dependence. But already had issued from the forests of the North the most effectual promoters of the ... \.0ypr},5' Ms"0? of Carthage, writes thus of Stephen, bishop of Rome .— -Magjs ac magis ejus errorem denotabls, qui hsjreticorum causam contra Christianos et contra Be. cles,am De, asserere conatur....qui unitatem et veritatem dedivinalegevenfentem non tenens....Consuetudo sine ve- ntate, vetustas erroris est. Epist. 74. )1.?1irm!,la5'!>rSl;0.S0?fiIB5a,'ea.ln Cappadocia, said also in the latter half of the third century: Eos autem qui Roma S^nii'..noi1t ?* V omn'Dus observare qua! sunt ab origine tradlta, et frustra auctoritatem apostolorum pnetendere . ..Ceterum nos (.... the bishops of the Asiatic churches, which were more ancient than that of Rome) veritati et ™iinSu^nem Ju?S™.us,. et consuetudini Romanorum, consuetudmem sed •mlalu opponimus ; ab initio hoc te- 5e„nt« qSS.d "¦ ohri!'° ?' »*, apostolo traditum est. Cypr. ?' K;„tJ\esS are '^''monies of great importance. 2 Rector totius ecclesia;. D'AUBIGNE'S HISTORY OF THE REFORMATION. papal power. The barbarians who had in vaded and settled in the West, after being satiated with blood and plunder, lowered their reeking swords before the intellectual power that met them face to face. Recently converted to Christianity, ignorant of the spiritual character of the Church, and feeling the want of a certain external pomp in reli gion, they prostrated themselves, half savage and half heathen as they were, at the feet of the high-priest of Rome. With their aid the West was in'his power. At first the Van dals, then the Ostrogoths, somewhat later the Burgundians and Alans, next the Visi goths, and lastly the Lombards and Anglo- Saxons, came and bent the knee to the Ro man pontiff. It was the sturdy shoulders of these children of the idolatrous north that succeeded in placing on the supreme throne of Christendom a pastor of the banks of the Tiber. At the beginning of the seventh century these events were accomplishing in the West, precisely at the period when the power of Mahomet arose in the East, prepared to in vade another quarter of the world. From this time the evil continued to in crease. In the eighth century we see the Roman bishops resisting on the one hand the Greek emperors, their lawful sovereigns, and endeavouring to expel them from Italy, while with the other they court the mayors of the palace in France, begging from this new power, just beginning to rise in the West, a share in the wreck of the empire. Rome founded her usurped authority between the East, which she repelled, and the West, which she summoned to her aid. She raised her throne between two revolts. Startled by the shouts of the Arabs, now become masters of Spain, and who boasted that they would speedily arrive in Italy by the gates of the Pyrenees and Alps, and proclaim the name of Mahomet on the Seven Hills ; alarmed at the insolence of Astolphus, who at the head of his Lombards, roaring like -a. lion, and brandishing his sword before the gates of the eternal city, threatened to put every Roman to death : ' Rome, in the prospect of ruin, turned her frightened eyes around her, and threw herself into the arms of the Franks. The usurper Pepin demanded her pretended sanction of his new authority ; it was grant ed, and the Papacy obtained in return his promise to be the defender of the " Republic of God." Pepin wrested from the Lombards the cities they had taken from the Greek emperor; yet, instead of restoring them to that prince, he laid their keys on St. Peter's altar, and swore with uplifted hands that he had not taken up arms for man, but to ob tain from God the remission of his sins, and to do homage for his conquests to St. Peter. Thus did France establish the temporal power of the popes. 1 Tremens ut leo....asserens omnes unQ gladio jugular!. Anastasius, Bibl. Vit. Pontif. p. 83. Charlemagne appeared ; the first time he ascends the stairs to the basilic of St. Peter, devoutly kissing each step. A second time he presents himself, lord of all the nations that formed the empire of the West, and of Rome itself. Leo III. thought fit to bestow the- imperial title on him who already pos sessed the power ; and on Christmas day, in the year 800, he placed the diadem of the Roman emperors on the brow of the son of Pepin. 1 From this time the pope belongs to the empire of the Franks : his connexion with the East is ended. He broke off from a decayed and fallen tree to graft himself upon a wild and vigorous sapling. A future elevation, to which he would have never dared aspire, awaits him among these Ger man tribes with whom he now unites him self. Charlemagne bequeathed to his feeble suc cessors only the wrecks of his power. In the ninth century disunion every where weakened the civil authority. Rome saw that this was the moment to exalt herself. When could the Church hope for a more fa vourable opportunity of becoming indepen dent of the state, than when the crown which Charles had worn was broken, and its frag ments lay scattered over his former empire ? - Then appeared the False Decretals of Isi dore. In this collection of the pretended de crees of the popes, the most ancient bishops, who were contemporary with Tacitus and Quintilian, were made to speak the barba rous Latin of the ninth century. The cus toms and constitutions of the Franks were seriously attributed to the Romans in the time of the emperors. Popes quoted the Bible in the Latin translation of Jerome, who had lived one, two, or three centuries after them ; and Victor, bishop of Rome, in the year 192, wrote to Theophilus, who was archbishop of Alexandria in 385. The im postor who had fabricated this collection en deavoured to prove that all bishops derived their authority from the bishop of Rome, who held his own immediately from Christ. He not only recorded all the successive con quests of the pontiffs, but even carried them back to the earliest times. The popes were not ashamed to avail themselves of this con temptible imposture. As early as 865, Nicho las I. drew from its stores the weapons by which to combat princes and bishops. 2 This impudent invention was for ages the arsenal of Rome. Nevertheless, the vices and crimes of the pontiffs suspended for a time the effects of the decretals. The Papacy celebrated its admission to the table of kings by shameful orgies. She became intoxicated : her senses were lost in the midst of drunken revellings. It is about this period fhat tradition places 1 Visum est et ipsl Apostollco Leoni....ut Ipsurn Caro- lum. lmperatorem nominare debuisset, qui lpsamRomam tenebat, ubi semper CKsares sedere soliti erant, et rellquas sedes. . . . Annalista Lambecianus, ad an. 801. i See Ep. ad Univers. Episc. Gall. Mansi xv. D'AUBIGNE'S HISTORY OF THE REFORMATION. upon the papal throne a woman named Joan, who had taken refuge in Rome with her lover, and whose sex was betrayed by the pangs of childbirth during a solemn proces sion. But let us not needlessly augment the shame of the pontifical court. Abandoned women at this time governed Rome; and that throne which pretended to rise above the majesty of kings was sunk deep in the dregs of vice. Theodora and Marozia in stalled and deposed at their pleasure the self-styled masters of the Church of Christ, and placed their lovers, sons, and grandsons, in St. Peter's chair. These scandals, which are but too well authenticated, may perhaps have given rise to the tradition of Pope Joan. Rome became one wide theatre of disor ders, the possession of which was disputed by the most powerful families of Italy. The * counts of Tuscany were generally victorious. In 1033, this house dared to place on the pontifical throne, under the name of Bene dict IX., a youth brought up in debauchery. This boy of twelve years old continued, when pope, the same horrible and degrading vices.1 Another party chose Sylvester III. in his stead; and Benedict, whose conscience was loaded with adulteries, and whose hands were stained with murder,2 at last sold the Papacy to a Roman ecclesiastic. The emperors of Germany, filled with in dignation at such enormities, purged Rome with the sword. The empire, asserting its paramount rights, drew the triple crown from the mire into which it had fallen, and saved the degraded papacy by giving it re spectable men as its chiefs. Henry III. de posed three popes in 1046, and his finger, decorated with the ring of the Roman patri cians, pointed out the bishop to whom the keys of St. Peter should be confided. Four popes, all Germans, and nominated by the emperor, succeeded. When the Roman pon tiff died, the deputies of that church repaired to the imperial court, like the envoys of other dioceses, to solicit a new bishop. With joy the emperor beheld the popes reforming abuses, strengthening the Church, holding councils, installing and deposing prelates, in defiance of foreign monarchs : the Papacy by these pretensions did but exalt the power of the emperor, its lord paramount. But to allow of such practices was to expose his own authority to great danger. The power which the popes thus gradually recovered might be turned suddenly against the em peror himself. When the reptile had gained strength, it might wound the bosom that had cherished it : and this result followed. And now begins a new era for the papacy. It rises from its humiliation, and soon tramples the princes of the earth under foot. l Cuius quidem post adeptum saccrdotlum vita quam turpis, quam freda, quamque execranda exstiterit, horresco referre. Desiderlus (abbot of Cassino, afterwards Pope Victor III.), De Miraculis a S. Benedicto, 4c, lib. iii. lnit, 2 Theophylactus. . . .cum post multa adulteria et homici- dia manibus suis perpetrate, &c. Bonizo (bishop of Sutri, afterwards of Piacenza), Liber ad Amicum. 12 To exalt the Papacy is to exalt the Church, to advance religion, to ensure to the spirit the victory over the flesh, and to God the conquest of the world. Such are its maxims : in these ambition finds its advantage, and fanaticism its excuse. The whole of this new policy is personified in one man : Hildebrand. This pope, who has been by turns indis creetly exalted or unjustly traduced, is the personification of the Roman pontificate in all its strength and glory. He is one of those normal characters in history, which include within themselves a*iew order of things, si milar to those presented in other spheres by Charlemagne, Luther, and Napoleon. This monk, the son of a carpenter of Sa voy, was brought up in a Roman convent, and had quitted Rome at the period when Henry III. had there deposed three popes, and taken refuge in France in the austere convent of Cluny. In 1048, Bruno, bishop of Toul, having been nominated pope by the emperor at Worms, who was holding the German Diet in that city, assumed the pon tifical habits, and took the name of Leo IX. ; but Hildebrand, who had hastened thither, refused to jjecognise him, since it was (said he) from the secular power that he held the tiara.i Leo, yielding to the irresistible power of a strong mind and of a deep conviction, immediately humbled himself, laid aside his sacerdotal ornaments, and clad in the garb of a pilgrim, set out barefoot for Rome along with Hildebrand (says an historian), in order to be there legitimately elected by the clergy and the Roman people. From this time Hil debrand was the soul of the Papacy, until he became pope himself. He had governed the Church under the name of several pontiffs, before he reigned in person as Gregory VII. One grand idea had taken possession of this great genius. He desired to establish a visi ble theocracy, of which the pope, as vicar of Jesus Christ, should be the head. The recol lection of the universal dominion of heathen Rome haunted his imigination and animated his zeal. He wished to restore to papal Rome all that imperial Rome had lost. " What Marius and Caesar," said his flatterers, "could not effect by torrents of blood, thou hast accomplished by a word." Gregory VII. was not directed by the spi rit of the Lord. That spirit of truth, humi lity, and long-suffering, was unknown to him. He sacrificed the truth whenever he judged it necessary to his policy. This he did par ticularly in the case of Berenger, archdeacon of Angers. But a spirit far superior to that of the generality of pontiffs— a deep convic tion of the justice of his cause—undoubtedly animated him. He was bold, ambitious, per- ' $"ianon.a«™dum canonicam institutlonem, sed per SivrfiT.et^eB'a,nJpoI,testat?,m' Komanam ecclesiamar- ripere veiis. Bruno de Segni, Vita Leonis. Otho of Freys- fS ?}h^j!Si? nan,?h° ««!¦ century later, places at Cluny this meeting of Leo and Hildebrand. This Is pr-jba- D'AUBIGNE'S HISTORY OF THE REFORMATION. severing in his designs, and at the same time skilful and politic in the use of the means that would ensure success. His first task was to organize the militia of the Church. It was necessary to gain strength before attacking the empire. A council held at Rome removed the pastors from their families, and compelled them to become the devoted adherents of the hie rarchy. The law of celibacy, planned and carried out by popes, who were themselves monks, changed the clergy into a sort of monastic order. Gregory VII. claimed the same power over all the bishops and priests of Christendom, that an abbot of Cluny exer cises in the order over which he presides. The legates of Hildebrand, who compared themselves to the proconsuls of ancient Rome, travelled through the provinces, depriving the pastors of their legitimate wives ; and, if necessary, the pope himself raised the popu lace against the married clergy.1 But chief of all, Gregory designed emanci pating Rome from its subjection to the em pire. Never would he have dared conceive so bold a scheme, if the troubles that afflicted the minority of Henry IV., and the revolt of the German princes against that young em peror, had not favoured its execution. The pope was at this time one of the magnates of the empire. Making common cause with the other great vassals, he strengthened himself by the aristocratic interest, and then forbade all ecclesiastics, under pain of excommunica tion, to receive investiture from the emperor. He broke the ancient ties that connected the Churches and their pastors with the royal authority, but it was to bind them all to the pontifical throne. To this throne he under took to chain priests, kings, and people, and to make the pope a universal monarch. It was Rome alone that every priest should fear : it was in Rome alone that he should hope. The kingdoms and principalities of the earth are her domain. All kings were to tremble at the thunderbolts hurled by the Jupiter of modern Rome. Woe to him who resists. Subjects are released from their oaths of allegiance ; the whole country is placed under an interdict ; public wprship ceases ; the churches are closed ; the bells are mute ; the sacraments are no ionger administered ; and the malediction extends even to the dead, to whom the earth, at the command of a haughty pontiff, denies the repose of the tomb. The pope, subordinate from the very begin ning^ of his existence successively to the Roman, Frank, and German emperors, was now free, and he trod for the first time as their equal, if not their master. Yet Gre gory VII. was humbled in his turn : Rome was" taken, and Hildebrand compelled to flee. l Hi quocumque prodennt, clamores insultantium. digitos ostendentium, colaphos pulsantium, perferunt. Alii mem- bris mutilati; alii per lOngos cruciatus superbe necati, «fcc. Hartene and Durand, Thesaurus Nov. Anecd. 1. 231. He died at Salerno, exclaiming, " I have loved righteousness and hated iniquity, therefore do I die in exile."1 Who shall dare charge with hypocrisy these words uttered on the very brink of the grave ? The successors of Gregory, like soldiers arriving after a victory, threw themselves as conquerors on the enslaved Churches. Spain rescued from Islamism, Prussia reclaimed from idolatry, fell into the arms of tho crowned priest. The Crusades, which were undertaken at his instigation, extended and confirmed his authority. The pious pil grims, who in imagination had seen saints and angels leading their armed bands, — who, entering humble and barefoot within the walls of Jerusalem, burnt the Jews in their synagogue, and watered with the, blood of thousands of Saracens the places where they eamc to trace the sacred footsteps of the Prince of Peace, — carried into the East tho name of the pope, who had been forgotten there since he had exchanged the supremacy of the Greeks for that of the Franks. In another quarter the power of the Church effected what the arms of the repub lic and of the empire had been unable to ac complish. The Germans laid at the feet of a bishop those tributes which their ancestors had refused to the most powerful generals. Their princes, on succeeding to the imperial dignity, imagined they received a crown from the popes, but it was a yoke that was placed upon their necks. The kingdoms of Christendom, already subject to the spiritual authority of Rome, now became her serfs and tributaries. Thus every thing was changed in the Church. It was at first a community of brethren, and now an absolute monarchy was esta blished in its bosom. All Christians were priests of the living God, 2 with humble pas tors as their guides. But a haughty head is upraised in the midst of these pastors ; a mysterious voice utters words full of pride ; an iron hand compels all men, great and small, rich and poor, bond and free, to wear the badge of its power. The holy and pri mitive equality of souls before God is lost sight of. At the voice of one man Chris tendom is divided into two unequal parties : on the one side is a separate caste of priests, daring to usurp the name of the Church, and claiming to be invested with peculiar privi leges in the eyes of the Lord ; and, on the other, servile flocks reduced to a blind and passive submission — a people gagged and fettered, and given over to a haughty caste. Every tribe, language, and nation of Chris tendom, submits to the dominion of this spi ritual king, who has received power to con quer. l DilexHustltiam et odivi inlqultatem, propterea moriur in exilio. 2 1 Peter U. 9. 13 D'AUBIGNE'S HISTORY OF THE REFORMATION. CHAPTER II. Grace— Dead Faith— Works— Unity and Duality— Pelagian- ism— Salvation at the hands of the Priests— Penance- Flagellations— Indulgences— Works of Supererogation — Purgatory— The Tariff— Jubilee— The Papacy and Chris tianity — State of Christendom. But side by side with the principle that should pervade the history of Christianity, was found another that should preside over its doctrine. This was the great idea of Christianity — the idea of grace, of pardon, of amnesty, of the gift of eternal life. This idea supposed in man an alienation from God, and an inability of returning by any power of his own into communion with that infinitely holy being. The opposition be tween the true and the false doctrine un doubtedly cannot be entirely summed up in the question of salvation by faith or by works. Nevertheless it is its most striking charac teristic. But further, salvation considered ' as coming from man, is the creative principle of every error and abuse. The excesses pro duced by this fundamental error led to the Reformation, and by the profession of the contrary principle it was carried out. This feature should therefore be very prominent in an introduction to the history of that re form. Salvation by grace was the second charac teristic which essentially distinguished the religion of God from all human systems. What had now become of it ? Had the Church preserved, as a precious deposit, this great and primordial thought ? Let us trace its history. The inhabitants of Jerusalem, of Asia, of Greece, and of Rome, in the time of the first emperors, heard these glad tidings : " By grace are ye saved through faith ; and that not of yourselves ; it is the gift of God." 1 At this proclamation of peace, at this joyful news, at this word of power, many guilty souls believed, and were drawn to Him who is the source of peace ; and numerous Chris tian Churches were formed in the midst of the degenerate nations of that age. But a great mistake was soon made as to the nature of this saving faith. Faith, ac cording to St. Paul, is the means by which the whole being of the believer — his under standing, heart, and will — enter into pos session of the salvation purchased for him by the incarnation and death of the Son of God. Jesus Christ is apprehended by faith, and from that hour becomes all things to man and in man. He communicates a divine life to our human nature ; and man thus re newed, and freed from the chains of sin and self, feels new affections and performs new works. Faith, says the theologian in order to express his ideas, is the subjective appro priation of the objective work of Christ. If ¦ Ephes. a 8. faith be not an appropriation of salvation, it is nothing ; all the Christian economy is thrown into confusion, the fountains of the new life are sealed, and Christianity is over turned from its foundations. And this is what did happen. This prac tical view of faith was gradually forgotten. Soon it became, what it still is to many per sons, a simple act of the understanding, .a mere submission to a superior authority. From this first error there necessarily pro ceeded a second. Faith being thus stripped of its practical character, it was impossible to say that it. alone had power to save : as works no longer were its fruits, they were of necessity placed side by side with it, and the doctrine that man is justified by faith and by works prevailed in the Church. Ill place of that Christian unity which comprises in a single principle justification and works, grace and the law, doctrine and duty, suc ceeded that melancholy duality which re gards religion and morality as two entirely distinct things — that fatal error, which, by separating things that cannot live unless united, and by putting the soul on one side and the body on the other, is the cause of spiritual death. The words of the apostle, re-echoing across the interval of ages are — " Having begun in the spirit, are ye now made perfect by the flesh ?" Another great error contributed still fur ther to unsettle the doctrine of grace : this was Pelagianism. Pelagius asserted that human nature is not fallen — that there is no hereditary corruption, and that man, having received the power to do good, has only to will in order to perform. i If good works consist only in external acts, Pelagius is right. But if we look to the motives whence these outward acts proceed, we find every where in man's nature selfishness, for- getfulness of God, pollution, and impotency. The Pelagian doctrine, expelled by Augus tine from the Church when it had presented itself boldly, insinuated itself as demi-Pela- gianism, and under the mask ofthe Augustine forms of expression. This error spread with astonishing rapidity throughout Christen dom. The danger of the doctrine was par ticularly manifested in this, — that by placing goodness without, and not within, the heart, it set a great value on external actions, legal observances, and penitential works. The more these practices were observed, the more righteous man became : by them heaven was gained ; and soon the extrava gant idea prevailed that there are men who have advanced in holiness beyond what was required of them. WMst Pelagianism corrupted th 3 Christian doctrine, it strengthened the hierarchy. The hand that lowered grace, exalted the Church : for grace is God, the Church is man. H uJ-jre,rlle.et SBBe "4 nomlnem referenda sunt, quia de »!>¦ hitrii fonte descenduut. Pelanius in Aug. De Gratia Del. cap. 4. D'AUBIGNE'S HISTORY OF THE REFORMATION. The more we feel the truth that all men are guilty before God, the more also shall we cling to Christ as the only source of grace. How could we then place the Church in the same rank with Christ, since it is but an as sembly of all those who are found in the same wretched state by nature? But so soon as we attribute to man a peculiar holi ness, a personal merit, every thing is changed. The clergy and the monks are looked upon as the most natural channels through which to receive the grace of God. This was what happened often after the times of Pelagius. Salvation, taken from the hands of God, fell into those of the priests, who set themselves in the place of our Lord. Souls thirsting for pardon were no more to look to heaven, but to the Church, and above all to its pretended head. To these blinded souls the Roman pontiff was God. Hence the greatness of the popes — hence unutterable abuses. The evil spread still further. When Pelagian ism laid down the doctrine that man could attain a state of perfect sanctification, it affirmed also that the merits of saints and martyrs might be applied to the Church. A peculiar power was attributed to their inter cession. Prayers were made to them ; their aid was invoked in all the sorrows of life ; and a real idolatry thus supplanted the adoration of the living and true God. At the same time, Pelagianism multiplied rites and ceremonies. Man, imagining that he could and that he ought by good works to render himself deserving of grace, saw no fitter means of meriting it than acts of exter nal worship. The ceremonial law became infinitely complicated, and was soon put on a level, to say the least, with the moral law. Thus were the consciences of Christians bur dened anew with a yoke that had been de clared insupportable in the times of the apostles.' But it was especially by the system of penance, which flowed immediately from Pelagianism, that Christianity was perverted. At first, penance had consisted in certain public expressions of repentance, required by the Church from those who had been excluded on account of scandals, and who desired to be received again into its bosom. By degrees penance was extended to every sin, even to the most secret, and was consi dered as a sort of punishment to which it was necessary to submit, in order to obtain the forgiveness of God through the priest's absolution. Ecclesiastical penance was thus confounded with Christian repentance, without which there can be neither justification nor sancti fication. Instead of looking to Christ for pardon through faith alone, it was sought for prin cipally in the Church through penitential works. Great importance was soon attached to external marks of repentance — to tears, fast ing, and mortification of the flesh ; and the inward regeneration of the heart, which alone constitutes a real conversion, was forgotten. As confession and penance are easier than the extirpation of sin and the abandonment of vice, many ceased contending against the lusts of the flesh, and preferred gratifying them at the expense of a few mortifications. The penitential works, thus substituted for the salvation of God, were multiplied in the Church from Tertullian down to the thir teenth century. Men were required to fast, to go barefoot, to wear no linen, &c. ; to quit their homes and their native land for distant countries ; or to renounce the world and em brace a monastic life. In the eleventh century voluntary flagel lations were superadded to these practices : somewhat later they became quite a mania in Italy, which was then in a very disturbed state. Nobles and peasants, old and young, even children of five years of age, whose only covering was a cloth tied round the middle, went in pairs, by hundreds, thousands, and tens of thousands, through the towns and villages, visiting the churches in the depth of winter. Armed with scourges, they flogged each other without pity, and the streets re sounded with cries and groans that drew tears from all who heard them. Still, long before the disease had reached such a height, the priest-ridden world had sighed for deliverance. The priests them selves had found out, that if they did not apply a remedy their usurped power would slip from their hands. They accordingly in vented that system of barter celebrated un der the title of Indulgences. They said to their penitents : " You cannot accomplish the tasks imposed on you. Well ! we, the priests of God and your pastors, will take this heavy burden upon ourselves. For a seven weeks' fast," said Regino, abbot of Prum, " you shall pay twenty pence, if you are rich ; ten, if less wealthy ; and three pence if you are poor ; and so on for other matters."1 Courageous men raised their voices against this traffic, but in vain ! The pope soon discovered what advantages could be derived from these indulgences. Alexander Hales, the irrefragable doctor, in vented in the thirteenth century a doctrine well calculated to secure these vast revenues to the Papacy. A bull of Clement VII. de clared it an article of 'faith. Jesus Christ, it was said, had done much more than was ne cessary to reconcile God to man. One single drop of his blood would have been sufficient. But he shed it copiously, in order to_ form a treasure for his Church that eternity can never exhaust. The supererogatory merits of the saints, the reward of the good works they had done beyond their obligation, have > Acts XT. 10. 15 1 Lihri duo de Ecclesiastlds Dlsclplmls. D'AUBIGNE'S HISTORY OF THE REFORMATION. still further augmented this treasure. Its keeping and management were confided to Christ's vicar upon earth. He applies to each sinner, for the sins committed after bap tism, these merits of Jesus Christ and of the saints, according to the measure and the quantity his sins require. Who would ven ture to attack a custom of such holy origin ? This inconceivable traffic was soon extend ed and complicated. The philosophers of Alexandria had spoken of a fire in which men were to be purified. Many ancient doctors had adopted this notion ; and Rome declared this philosophical opinion a tenet of the Church. The pope by a bull annexed Pur gatory to his domain. In that place, he de clared, men would have to expiate the sins that could not be expiated here on earth ; but that indulgences would liberate their souls from that intermediate state in which their sins would detain them. Thomas Aquinas set forth this doctrine in his famous Summa Theologian. No means were spared to fill the mind with terror. The priests depicted in horrible colours the torments inflicted by this purifying fire on all who became its prey. In many Roman-catholic countries we may still see paintings ex hibited in the churches and public places, wherein poor souls, from the midst of glow ing flames, invoke with anguish some alle viation of their pain. Who could refuse the ransom which, falling into the treasury of Rome, would redeem the soul from such tor ments ? Somewhat later, in order to reduce this traffic to a system, they invented (probably under John XXII.) the celebrated and scan dalous Tariff of Indulgences, which has gone through more than forty editions. The least delicate ears would be offended by an enume ration of all the horrors it contains. Incest, if not detected, was to cost five groats ; and six, if it was known. There was a' stated price for murder, infanticide, adultery, per jury, burglary, &c. " O disgrace of Rome ! " exclaims Claude d'Espence, a Roman divine : and we may add, 0 disgrace of human nature ! for we can utter no reproach against Rome that does not recoil on man himself. Rome is human nature exalted in some of its worst propensities. We say this that we may speak the truth ; we say it also, that we may be just. Boniface VIII., the most daring and am bitious pontiff after Gregory VII., was en abled to effect still more than his predeces sors. In the year 1300, he published a bull, in which he declared to the Church that every hundred years all who made a pilgrimage to Rome should receive a plenary indulgence. From all parts, from Italy, Sicily, Sardinia, Corsica, France, Spain, Germany, and Hun gary, people flocked in crowds. Old men of sixty and seventy undertook the journey, and in one month two hundred thousand pil 16 grims visited Rome. All these strangers brought rich offerings ; and the pope and the Romans saw their coffers replenished. Roman avarice soon fixed each Jubilee at fifty, then at thirty-three, and lastly at twenty-five years' interval. Then, for the greater convenience of purchasers, and the greater profit of the sellers, both the jubi lee and its indulgences were transported from Rome to every market-place in Chris tendom. It was no longer necessary to leave one's home. What others had gone in search of beyond the Alps, each man could now buy at his own door. The evil could not become greater. Then the Reformer appeared. We have seen what had become of the principle that was destined to govern the history of Christianity ; we have seen also what became of that which should have per vaded its doctrines : both were lost. To set up a. mediatorial caste between God and man — to obtain by works, by pen ance, and by money, the salvation "which is the free gift of God — such is Popery. To open to all, through Jesus Christ, with out any human mediator, without that power which calls itself the Church, free access to the great boon of eternal life which God offers to man — such is Christianity and the Reformation. Popery is a lofty barrier erected by the labour of ages between God and man. If any one desires to scale it, he must pay or he must suffer ; and even then he will not sur mount it. The Reformation is the power that has overthrown this barrier, that has restored Christ to man, and has thus opened a level path by which he may reach his Creator. Popery interposes the Church between God and man. Primitive Christianity and the Reforma tion bring God and man face to face. Popery separates them — the Gospel unites them. After having thus traced the history of the decline and fall of the two great princi ples that were to distinguish the religion of God from all human systems, let us see what were some of the consequences of this im mense transformation. But first let us pay due honour to the Church of the Middle Ages, which succeed ed that of the apostles and ofthe fathers, and which preceded that of the reformers. The Church was still the Church, although fallen, and daily more and more enslaved : that is to say, she was always the greatest friend of man. Her hands, though bound, could still be raised to bless. Eminent servants of Jesus Christ, who were true Protestants as regards the essential doctrines of Christian ity, diffused a cheering light during the dark ages ; and in the humblest convent, in the remotest parish, might be found poor monks D'AUBIGNE'S HISTORY OF THE REFORMATION. and poor priests to alleviate great sufferings. The Catholic church was not the Papacy. The latter was the oppressor, the former the oppressed. The Reformation, which de clared war against the one, came to deliver the other. And^t must be confessed that the Papacy itself became at times in the hands of God, who brings good out of evil, a necessary counterpoise to the power and ambition of princes. CHAPTER III. Religion^- Relics— Eas ter Revels— Morals— Corruption— Dis orders of the Priests, Bishops, and Popes— A Papal Family —Alexander VI.— Caesar Borgia— Education— Ignorance— Cicerouians. Let us now see what was the state of the Church previous to the Reformation. The nations of Christendom no longer looked to a holy and living God for the free gift of eternal life. To obtain it, they were obliged to have recourse to aE the means that a superstitious, fearful, and alarmed imagination could devise. Heaven was filled with saints and mediators, whose duty it was to solicit this mercy. Earth was filled with pious works, sacrifices, observ ances, and ceremonies, by which it was to be obtained. Here is a picture of the religion of this period transmitted to us by one who was long a monk, and afterwards a fellow- labourer of Luther's — by Myconius : — " The sufferings and merits of Christ were looked upon as an idle tale, or as the fictions of Homer. There was no thought of the faith by which we become partakers of the Saviour's righteousness and of the heritage of eternal life. Christ was looked upon as a severe judge, prepared to condemn all who should not have recourse to the intercession of the saints, or to the papal indulgences. Other intercessors appeared in his place : — first the Virgin Mary,, like the Diana of pa ganism, and then the saints, whose numbers were continually augmented by_ the popes. These mediators granted their intercession only to such applicants as had deserved well of the orders founded by them. For this it was necessary to do, not what God had cpm- manded in his Word, but to perform a num ber of works invented by monks and priests, and which brought money to the treasury. These works were Ave-Marias, the prayers of Saint Ursula and of Saint Bridget : they must chant and cry night and day. . There were as many resorts for pilgrims as there were mountains, forests, and valleys. But these penances might be compounded for with money. The people, therefore, brought to the convents and to the priests mone;f and every thing that had any value — fowls, ducks, geese, eggs, wax, straw, butter, and cheese. Then the hymns resounded, the hells rang, incense filled the sanctuary, sacri fices were offered up, the larders overflowed, the glasses went round, and masses termi nated and concealed these pious orgies. The bishops no longer preached, but they conse crated priests, bells, monks, churches, chapels, images, books, and cemeteries ; and all this brought in a large revenue. Bones, arms, and feet were preserved in gold and silver boxes ; they were given out during mass for the faithful to'kiss, and this too was a source of great profit. " All these people maintained that the pope, ' sitting as God in the temple of God,'1 could not err, and they would not suffer any contradiction."2 In the church of All Saints at Wittemberg was shown a fragment of Noah's ark, some soot from the furnace of the Three Children, a piece of wood from the cradle of Jesus Christ, some hair from the beard of St. Chris topher, and nineteen thousand other relics of greater or less value. At Schaffhausen was exhibited the breath of St. Joseph (that Nicodemus had received in his glove. In Wurtemberg you might meet a seller of indulgences, vending his merchandise, his head adorned with) a large feather plucked from the wing of St. Michael.3 But it was not necessary to travel far in search of these precious treasures. Men who farmed the relics traversed the whole country, hawking them about the rural districts! (as has since been the case with the Holy Scriptures), and carrying them to the houses of the faithful, to spare them the trouble and expense of a pilgrimage. They were exhibited with pomp in the churches. These wandering hawkers paid a stipulated sum to the owners of the relics, — a per-centage on their profits. The kingdom of heaven had disappeared, and in its place a market of abominations had been opened upon earth. Thus a spirit of profanity had invaded re ligion ; and the holiest recollections of the Church, the seasons which more particularly summoned the faithful to holy meditation and love, were disgraced by buffoonery and heathenish profanation. The " Revels of Easter" held a distinguished place in the records of the Church. As the festival of the resurrection of Christ ought to be cele brated with joy, the preachers studied in their sermons every thing that might raise a laugh among their hearers. One imitated the note of the cuckoo ; another hissed like a goose. One dragged to the altar a layman robed in a monk's frock; a second related the most indecent stories; and a, third re counted the tricks of St. Peter, and among others, how in a tavern he had cheated his host by not paying his reckoning.4 The 1 2 Thessalonians, ii. 4. ,. , _ , . - 2 Myconius, History of the Reformation; and Seckendorf, History of Lutheranism. 3 Mailer's Reliquien, vol. ill. P. 22. 4 fEcolampad., De Risu Paschali. 17 B D'AUBIGNE'S HISTORY OF THE REFORMATION. lower clergy took advantage of this oppor tunity to ridicule their superiors. The churches were converted into a mere stage for mountebanks, and the priests into buf foons. If such was the state of religion, what must have been the state of morals ? _ Undoubtedly the corruption was not at that time universal. Justice requires that this should not be forgotten. The Reformation elicited numerous examples of piety, right eousness, and strength of mind. The spon taneous action of God's power was the cause ; but how can we deny that he had beforehand deposited the seeds of this new life in the bosom of the Church ? If in our days we should bring together all the immoralities, all the turpitudes committed in a single country, the mass of corruption would doubt less shock us still. Nevertheless, the evil at this period wore a character and universality that it has not borne subsequently. And, above all, the mystery of iniquity desolated the holy places, as it has not been permitted to do since the days of the Reformation. Morality had declined with the decline of faith. The tidings of the gift of eternal life is the power of God to regenerate man. Take away the salvation which God has given, and you take away sanctification and good works. And this result followed. The doctrine and the sale of indulgences were powerful incentives to evil among an ignorant people. True, according to the Church, indulgences could benefit those only who promised to amend their lives, and who kept their word. But what could be expected from a tenet invented solely with a view to the profit that might be derived from it? The venders of indulgences were naturally tempted, for the better sale of their merchan dise, to present their wares to the people in the most attractive and seducing aspect. The learned themselves did not fully under stand the doctrine. All that the multitude saw in them was, that they permitted men to sin; and the merchants were not over eager to dissipate an error so favourable to their sale. What disorders and crimes were commit ted in these dark ages, when impunity was to be purchased by money ! What had man to fear, when a small contribution towards building a church secured him from the fear of punishment in the world to come ? What hope could there be of revival when all com munication between God and man was cut off, and man, an alien from God, who is the spirit and the life, moved only in a round of paltry ceremonies and sensual observances, m an atmosphere of death ! The priests were the first who yielded to this corrupting influence. By desiring to exalt themselves they became abased. They had aimed at robbing God of a ray of his flory, and placing it in their own bosoms ; ut their attempt had proved vain, and they 18 had only hidden there a leaven of corruption stolen from the power of evil. The history of the age swarms with scandals. In many places, the people were delighted at seeing a priest keep a mistress, that the married women might be safe from his seductions.1 What humiliating scenes did the house of a pastor jn those days present ! The wretched man supported the woman and the children she had borne him with the tithes and offer ings.2 His conscience was troubled : he blushed in the presence of the people, before his domestics, and before God. The mother, fearing to come to want if the priest should die, made provision against it beforehand, and robbed her own house. Her honour was lost. Her children were ever a living accu sation against her. Despised by all, they plunged into quarrels and debauchery. Such was the family of the priest ! These were frightful scenes, by which the people knew how to profit.3 The rural districts were the scene of nu merous disorders. The abodes of the clergy were often dens of corruption. Corneille Adrian at Bruges,4 the abbot Trinkler at Cap- pel,6 imitated the manners of the East, and had their harems. Priests, consorting with dissolute characters, frequented the taverns, played at dice, and crowned their orgies with quarrels and blasphemy.6 The council of Schaffhausen forbade the priests to dance in public, except at mar riages, and to carry more than one kind of arms : they decreed also that all who were found in houses of ill fame should be un frocked.7 In the archbishopric of Mentz, they scaled the walls by night, and created all kinds of disorder and confusion in the inns and taverns, and broke the doors and locks.6 In many places the priest paid the bishop a regular tax for the woman with whom he lived, and for each child he had by' her. A German bishop said publicly one day, at a great entertainment, that in one year eleven thousand priests had presented themselves before him for that purpose. It is Erasmus who relates this.9 If we go higher in the hierarchical order, we find the corruption not less great. The dignitaries of the Church preferred the tu mult of camps to the hymns of the altar.' To be able, lance in hand, to reduce his neigh bours to obedience, was one ofthe chief quali fications of a bishop. Baldwin, archbishop of Treves, was continually at war with his neighbours and his vassals : he demolished their castles, built strongholds, and thought of nothing but the extension of his territory. 2 Th«0L%.CJ?!Salei!•deP^K.8^H,,• Slmonlacis. ' F^rleytlg'L ?il0SiPMtor 0f U^°-11 ta 1524' J Metern. Nederl. Hist. Till. r S0tti,nser, Hist. Eccles. ix. 305. ' MSlie'sVelSX' b25'1hop or 0°^'a»<=e. 3d March 1517. I ?j™ ™8' °5soh-/f ' Nass. Oran. Lande. lam ™£«,M?.>di 58 dclaJ? undecim millia sacerdotum pa- lam concubinanorum. Erasmi Opp. Ix. 401. D'AUBIGNE'S HISTORY OF THE REFORMATION. A certain bishop of Eiehstadt, when admin istering justice, wore a coat of mail under his robes, and held a large sword in his hand. He used to say he was not afraid of five bar barians, provided they did but attack him in fair fight. • Everywhere the bishops were continually at war with their towns. The citizens demanded liberty, the bishops re quired implicit obedience. If the latter gained the victory, they punished the re- volters by sacrificing numerous victims to their vengeance ; but the flame of insurrec tion burst out again, at the very moment when it was thought to be extinguished. And what a spectacle was presented by the pontifical throne in the times immedi ately preceding the Reformation ! Rome, it must be acknowledged, had seldom witnessed so much infamy. Rodrigo Borgia, after having lived with a Roman lady, had continued the same illicit connexion with one of her daughters, named Rosa Vanozza, by whom he had five chil dren. He was a cardinal and archbishop, living at Rome with Vanozza and other women, visiting the churches and the hos pitals, when the death of Innocent VIII. created a vacancy in the pontifical chair. He succeeded in obtaining it by bribing each cardinal at a stipulated price. Four mules laden with silver publicly entered the palace of Sforza, one of the most influential of the cardinals. Borgia became pope under the name of Alexander VI., and rejoiced in thus attaining the summit of earthly felicity. On the day of his coronation, his son Csesar, a youth of ferocious and dissolute manners, was created archbishop of Valencia and bishop of Pampeluna. He next cele brated in the Vatican the marriage of his daughter Lucretia, by festivities at which his mistress, Julia Bella, was present, and which were enlivened by licentious plays and songs. " All the clergy," says an his torian,2 "kept mistresses, and all the con vents of the capital were houses of ill fame." Caesar Borgia espoused the cause of the Guelfs ; and when by their assistance he had destroyed the Ghibellines, he turned upon the Guelfs and crushed them in their turn. But he desired to share alone in all these spoils. In 1497, Alexander gave the duchy of Benevento to his eldest son. The duke suddenly disappeared. A faggot-dealer, on the banks of the Tiber, one George Schiavoni, had seen a dead body thrown into the stream during the night ; but he said nothing of it, as being a common occurrence. The body of the duke was found. His brother Csesar had been the instigator of his death.8 This was not enough. His brother-in-law stood in his way : one day Csesar caused him to be stabbed on the very stairs of the pontifical 1 Schmidt, Gesch. der Deutschen, toI. v. 3 AmazzMl fratello ducha di Gandla e lo fa butar nel Tevere. MS. of Capcllo, ambassador at Rome In 1500, ex tracted by runke. palace. He was carried bleeding to his own apartments. His wife and sister did not leave him ; and fearful that Caesar would employ poison, they prepared his meals with their own hands. Alexander set a guard on the doors ; but Caesar ridiculed these precau tions, and remarked, as the pope was about to pay a visit to his son-in-law, " What is not done at dinner, will be done at supper." Accordingly, one day he gained admittance to the chamber of the convalescent, turned out the wife and sister, and calling in his executioner Michilotto, the only man in whom he placed any confidence, ordered his brother-in-law to be strangled before his eyes.1 Alexander had a favourite, Perotto, whose influence also offended the young duke. He rushed upon him : Perotto took refuge under the pontifical mantle, and clasped the pope in his arms. Caesar stabbed him, and the Wood of his victim spirted in the face of the pontiff.2 " The pope," adds a contemporary and eye-witness of these scenes, " loves the duke his son, and lives in great fear of him." Csesar was the handsomest and strongest man of his age. Six wild bulls fell easily beneath his blows in single combat. Every morning some new victim was found, who had been assassinated during the night in the Roman streets. Poison carried off those whom the dagger could not reach. No one dared move or breathe in Rome, for fear that his turn should come next. Csesar Borgia was the hero of crime. That spot of earth in which iniquity had attained such a height was the throne of the pontiffs. When man gives himself up to the powers of evil, the higher he claims to be exalted before God, the lower he sinks into the abyss of hell. The dissolute entertainments given by the pope, his son Csesar, and his daughter Lu cretia, in the pontifical palace, cannot be described or even thought of without shud dering. The impure groves of antiquity saw nothing like them. Historians have accused Alexander and Lucretia of incest ; but this charge does not appear sufficiently estab lished. The pope had prepared poison in a box of sweetmeats that was to be served up after a sumptuous repast : the cardinal for whom it was intended being forewarned, gained over the attendant, and the poisoned box was set before Alexander. 3 He ate of it and died. " The whole city ran together, and could not satiate their eyes with gazing on this dead viper."4 Such was the man who filled the papal chair at the beginning of the century in which the Reformation burst forth. Thus had the clergy brought not only themselves but religion into disrepute. Well might a powerful voice exclaim : " The 19 1 Intro in camera fe usslr la moelle e sorella estrangolb dlto zovene. MS. of Capello, Ranke. 2 Adeo il sangue li salto In la faza del papa. Ibid, a E messe la scutola venenata avante 11 papa. Sanato. * Gordon, Tomasi, InfeBsura, Guicciardiui, &c. D'AUBIGNE'S HISTORY OF THE REFORMATION. ecclesiastical order is opposed to God and to his glory. The people know it well; and this is but too plainly shown by the many songs, proverbs, and jokes against the priests, that are current among the commonalty, and all those caricatures of monks and priests on every wall, and even on the playing-cards. Every one feels a loathing on seeing or hearing a priest in the distance." It is Luther who speaks thus. J The evil had spread through all ranks : " a strong delusion" had been sent among men ;2 the corruption of manners correspon ded with the corruption of faith. A mystery of iniquity oppressed the enslaved Church of Christ. Another consequence necessarily flowed from the neglect into which the fundamental doctrine of the Gospel had fallen . Ignorance of the understanding accompanied the cor ruption of the heart. The priests having taken into their hands the distribution of a salvation that belongs only to God, had secured a sufficient title to the respect of the people. What need had they to study sacred learning? It was no longer a question of explaining the Scriptures, but of granting letters of indulgence ; and for this ministry it was not necessary to have acquired much learning. In country places, they chose for preachers, says Wimpheling, ' ' miserable wretches whom they had previously raised from beggary, and who had been cooks, musicians, hunts men, stable-boys, and even worse."3 The superior clergy themselves were often sunk in great ignorance. A bishop of Dun- feld congratulated himself on having never learnt either Greek or Hebrew. The monks asserted that all heresies arose from those two languages, and particularly from the Greek. " The New Testament," said one of them, " is a book full of serpents and thorns. Greek," continued he, " is a new and recently invented language, and we must be upon our guard against it. As for Hebrew, my dear brethren, it is certain that all who learn it, immediately become Jews." Heresbach, a friend of Erasmus, and a respectable author, reports these expressions. Thomas Linacer, a, learned and celebrated ecclesiastic, had never read the New Testament. In his latter days (in 1524), he called for a copy, but quickly threw it away from him with an oath, because on opening it his eyes had glanced upon these words : " But I say unto you, Swear not'at all." Now he was a great swearer. • " Either this is not the Gospel," said he, " or else we are not Christians."4 Even the faculty of theology at Paris scru pled not to declare to the parliament : " Re- 1 Daman an alleW&nde, aufallerleyZeddel.zuletztaucb. auf den Kartenspielen, Pfaften, und Mtinche malete. Luth. E)>p. ii. 674. 2 2 Thcss. II. 11. 3 Apologia pro Rep. Christ. * MUller's Reliq. ill. 253. ligion is ruined, if you permit the study of Greek and Hebrew." If any learning was found here and there among the clergy, it was not in sacred lite rature. The Ciceronians of Italy affected a great'contempt for the Bible on account of its style. Pretended priests of the Church of Christ translated the writings of holy men, inspired by the Spirit of God, in the style of Virgil and of Horace, to accommodate their language to the ears of good society. Car dinal Bembo, instead of the Holy Ghost, used to write the breath of the heavenly zephyr ; for the expression to forgive sins — to bend the manes and the. sovereign gods ; and for Christ, the Son of God — Minerva sprung from the head of Jupiter. Finding one day the worthy Sa- dolet engaged in translating the Epistle to the Romans, he said to him: " Leave these childish matters : such fooleries do not be come a sensible man." - These were some of the consequences of the system that then oppressed Christendom. This picture undoubtedly demonstrates the corruption of the Church, and the necessity for a reformation. Such was our design in writing this sketch. The vital doctrines of Christianity had almost entirely disappeared, and with them the life and light that consti tute the essence of the religion of God. The material strength of the Church was gone. It lay an exhausted, enfeebled, and almost lifeless body, extended over that part of the world which the Roman empire had occu pied. CHAPTER IV. 20 Imperishable Nature of Christianity— Two Laws of God— Apparent Strength of Rome— Secret Opposition— -Decline —Threefold Opposition— Kings and People— Transforma tion of the Church— The Pope judged in Italy— Discoveries of Kings and their Subjects— Frederick the Wise— Mode ration and Expectation. The evils which thus afflicted Christendom ; superstition, unbelief, ignorance, vain specu lations; and corruption of morals — the natu ral fruits of the heart of man. — were not new upon the earth. Often had they appeared in the history of nations. TJiey had invaded, especially in the East, the" different religious systems that had seen their day of glory. Those enervated systems had sunk under these evils, had fallen under their attack, and not one of them had ever risen again. Was Christianity now to undergo the same fate ? Would it be lost like these old national religions ? Would the blow that had caused their death be sufficient to de prive it of life? Could nothing save it? Will these hostile powers that overwhelm it, and which have already overthrown so many 1 Felleri, Mon. lned. p. 400, D'AUBIGNE'S HISTORY OF THE REFORMATION. various systems of worship, be able to seat themselves without resistance on the ruins of the Church of Jesus Christ ? No ! There is in Christianity what none of these national systems possessed. It does not, like them, present certain general ideas mingled with tradition and fable, destined to fall sooner or later under the assault of reason : it contains a pure and undefiled truth, found ed on facts capable of bearing the examina tion of every upright and enlightened mind. Christianity does not propose merely to ex cite in man certain vague religious feelings, whose charm once lost can never be reco vered : its object is to satisfy, and it does really satisfy, all the religious wants of hu man nature, whatever may be the degree of development which it has attained. It is not the work of man, whose labours pass away and are forgotten ; it is the work of God, who upholds what he has created ; and it has the promise of its Divine Head as the pledge of its duration. It is impossible for human nature ever to rise superior to Christianity. And if for a time man thought he could do without it, it soon appeared to him with fresh youth and a new life, as the only remedy for souls. The degenerate nations then returned with new ardour towards those ancient, simple, and powerful truths, which in the hour of their infatuation they had despised. In fact, Christianity manifested in the six teenth century the same regenerative power that it had exercised at first. After fifteen centuries the same truths produced the same effects. In the day of the Reformation, as in the time of Peter and Paul, the Gospel overthrew mighty obstacles with irresistible force. Its sovereign power displayed its efficacy from north to south among nations the most dissimilar in manners, character,- and intellectual development. Then, as in the times of Stephen and James, it kindled the fire of enthusiasm and devotedness in the lifeless nations, and elevated them to the height of martyrdom. How was this revival of the Church accom plished? We observe here two laws by which God governs the Church in all times. First he prepares slowly and from afar that which he designs to accomplish. He has ages in which to work. Then, when the time is come, he effects the greatest results by the smallest means. It is thus he acts in nature and in history. When he wishes to produce a majestic tree, he deposits a small seed in the bosom of the earth , when he wishes to renovate his Church, he employs the meanest instruments to accomplish what emperors and learned and distinguished men in the Church could not effect. We shall soon go in search of, and we shall discover, that small seed which a Divine hand placed in the earth in the days of the Reformation. But we must here dis tinguish and recognise the different means by which God prepared the way for this great revolution. At the period when the Reformation was about to burst forth, Rome appeared in peace and security. One might have said that nothing could ever disturb herin hertriumph : great victories had been achieved by her. The general councils — those upper and lower chambers of Catholicism — had been subdued. The Waldenses and the Hussites had been crushed. No university, except perhaps that of Paris, which sometimes raised its voice at the signal of its kings, doubted the infalli bility of the oracles of Rome. Every one seemed to have taken his own share of its power. The higher orders of the clergy preferred giving to a distant chief the tithe of their revenues, and tranquilly to consume the remainder, to risking all for an indepen dence that would cost them dear and would bring them little profit. The inferior clergy, attracted by the prospect of brilliant stations, which their ambition painted and discovered in the distance, willingly purchased by a little slavery the flattering hopes they che rished. Besides, they were every where so oppressed by the chiefs of the hierarchy, that they could scarcely stir under their powerful hands, and much less raise themselves and make head against them. The people bent the knee before the Roman altar ; and even kings themselves, who began in secret to despise the bishop of Rome, would not have dared lay hands upon his power for fear of the imputation of sacrilege. But if external opposition appeared to have subsided, or even to have entirely ceased, when the Reformation broke out, its internal strength had increased. If we take a nearer view of the edifice, we discover more than one symptom that foreboded its destruction. The cessation of the general councils had scattered their principles throughout the Church, and carried disunion into the camp of their opponents. The defenders of the hierarchy were divided into two parties : those who maintained the system of absolute papal dominion, according to the maxims of Hildebrand; and those who desired a con stitutional papal government, offering secu rities and liberty to the several Churches._ And more than this, in both parties faith in the infallibility of the Roman bishop had been rudely shaken. If no voice was raised to attack it, it was because every one felt anxious rather to preserve the little faith he still possessed. They dreaded the slightest shock, lest it should overthrow the whole edifice. Christendom held its breath ; but it was to prevent a calamity in which it feared to perish. From the moment that man trembles to abandon a long-worshipped per suasion, he possesses it no more. And he will not much longer keep up the appearance that he wishes to maintain. The Reformation had been gradually pre- 21 D'AUBIGNE'S HISTORY OF THE REFORMATION. pared by God's providence in three different spheres — the political, the ecclesiastical, and the literary. Princes and their subjects, Christians and divines, the learned and the wise, contributed to bring about this revolu tion of the sixteenth century. Let us pass in review this triple classification, finishing with that of literature, which was perhaps the most powerful in the times immediately preceding the reform. And, firstly, Rome had lost much of her ancient credit in the eyes of nations and of kings. Of this the Church itself was the primary cause. The errors and superstitions which she had introduced into Christianity were not, properly speaking, what had in flicted the mortal wound. The Christian world must have been raised above the clergy in intellectual and religious development, to have been able to judge of it in this point of view. But there was an order of things within the comprehension of the laity, and by this the Church was judged. It had be come altogether earthly. That sacerdotal dominion which lorded over the nations, and which could not exist except by the delusion of its subjects, and by the halo that encircled it, had forgotten its nature, left heaven and its spheres of fight and glory to mingle in the vulgar interests of citizens and princes. The priests, born to be the representatives of the Spirit, had bartered it away for the flesh. They had abandoned the treasures of science and the spiritual power of the Word, for the brute force and false glory of the age. This happened naturally enough; It was in truth the spiritual order which the Church had at first undertaken to defend. But to protect it against the resistance and attacks of the people, she had recourse to earthly means, to vulgar arms, which a false policy had induced her to take up. When once the Church had begun to handle such weapons, her spirituality was at an end. Her arm could not become temporal and her heart not become temporal also. Erelong was seen apparently the reverse of what had been at first. After resolving to employ earth to de fend heaven, she made use of heaven to defend the earth. Theocratic forms became in her hands the means of accomplishing worldly enterprises. The offerings which the people laid at the feet of the sovereign pontiff of Christendom were employed in maintaining the splendour of his court and in paying his armies. His spiritual power served as steps by which to place the kings and nations of the earth under his feet. The charm ceased, and the power of the Church was lost, so soon as the men of those days could say, She is become as one of us. The great were the first to scrutinize the titles of this imaginary power.1 This very examination might perhaps have been sufE- 1 Adrien Bailiet, Hist, des Demeles de Boniface VIII. avec Philippe le Bel. Paris, 1708. 22 cient for the overthrow of Rome. But for tunately for her the education of the princes was every where in the hands of her adepts, who inspired their august pupils with senti ments of veneration towards the Roman pon tiff. The rulers of the people grew up in the sanctuary of the Church. Princes of ordinary capacity never entirely got beyond it : many longed only to return to it at the hour of death. They preferred dying in a friar's cowl to dying beneath a crown. Italy — that European apple of discord — contributed perhaps more than anything else to open the eyes of kings. They had to contract alliances with the pope, which had reference to the temporal prince of the States of the Church, and not to the bishop of bishops. Kings were astonished at seeing the popes ready to sacrifice the rights belong ing to the pontiff, in order that they might preserve some advantage to the prince. They perceived that these pretended organs of the truth had recourse to all the paltry wiles of policy, — to deceit, dissimulation, and perjury.1 Then fell off the bandage which education had bound over the eyes of princes. Then the artful Ferdinand of Aragon played stratagem against stratagem. Then the im petuous Louis XII. had a medal struck, with the inscription, Perdam Babyhnis Nomen? And the good Maximilian of Austria, grieved at hearing of the treachery of Leo X., said openly : " This pope also, in my opinion, is a scoundrel. Now may I say, that never in my life has any pope kept his faith or his word with me.... I hope, God willing, this will be the last of them."3 Kings and people then began to feel im patient under the heavy burden the popes had laid upon them. They demanded that Rome should relieve them from tithes, tri butes, and annates, which exhausted their resources. Already had France opposed Rome with the Pragmatic Sanction, and the chiefs of the empire claimed the like immu nity. The emperor was present in person at the council of Pisa in 1511, and even for a time entertained the idea of securing the Papacy to himself. But of all these leaders, none was so useful to the Reformation as he in whose states it was destined to com mence. Frederick of Saxony, surnamed the Wise, was at that time the most powerful of all the Electors. Coming to the government of the hereditary states of his family in 1487, he had received the electoral dignity from the emperor; and in 1493, having gone on a pilgrimage to Jerusalem, he was there made a knight of the Holy Sepulchre. The in fluence he exercised, his wealth and liberality raised him above his equals. God chose him to serve as a tree under whose shelter the - seeds of truth might put forth their -first 1 Oul.Mljrdinl, Storia d'ltalla. - I will destroy the name of Babylon. » Scultet. Annal. ad ann. 1620. D'AUBIGNE'S HISTORY OF THE REFORMATION. shoots, without being uprooted by the tem pests around them. J No one was better adapted for this noble ministry. Frederick possessed the esteem of all, and enjoyed the full confidence of the emperor. He even supplied his place when Maximilian was absent from Germany. His wisdom did not consist in the skilful exercise of a crafty policy, but in an enlightened, far- seeing prudence ; the first principle of which was never from interested motives to infringe the laws of honour and of religion. At the same time, he felt the power of God's word in his heart. One day, when the vicar-general Staupitz was with him, the conversation turned on those who were in the habit of delivering empty declamations from the pulpit. " All discourses," said the elector, " that are filled only with subtleties and human traditions, are wonderfully cold and unimpressive ; since no subtlety can be advanced, that another subtlety cannot over throw. The Holy Scriptures alone are clothed with such power and majesty, that, destroying all our learned reasoning-machines, they press us close, and compel us to say, Never man spake like this man." Staupitz having expressed himself entirely of that opinion, the elector shook him cordially by the hand and said: "Promise me that you will always think the same."2 Frederick was precisely the prince required at the beginning of the Reformation. Too much weakness on the part of the friends of this work would have allowed of its being crushed. Too much precipitation would have made the storm burst forth sooner, which from its very commencement began to gather in secret against it. Frederick was moderate but firm. He possessed that virtue which God requires at all times in those who love his ways : he waited for God. He put in practice the wise counsel of Gamaliel : " If this work be of men, it will come to nought ; but if it be of God, ye cannot overthrow it."3 " Things are come to such a pass," said this prince to Spengler of Nuremberg, one of the most enlightened men of his day, " that man can do no more ; God alone must act. For this reason we place in his powerful hands these mighty works that are too difficult for us." Providence claims our admiration in the choice it made of such a ruler to protect its rising work. 1 Qui prse multis pollebat principibus aliis, auctoritate, opibus, potentia, liberalltate et magniticentia. Cochlceus, Acta L., p. 2. 2 Luth. Epp. 3 Acts v. 38, 39. CHAPTER V. Popular Feeling— Tho Empire— Providential Preparations —Impulse of the Reformation— Peace— The Commonalty —National Character— Papal Yoke— State of the Empire —Opposition at Rome— Middle Classes— Switzerland- Courage— Liberty— Smaller Cantons— Italy— Obstacles to the Reform— Spain— Obstacles— Portugal— France— Pre parations— Disappointment— The Low Countries— Eng land— Scotland— The North— Russia— Poland— Bohemia —Hungary. We have seen God's preparations among the princes for the work he was about to accom plish : let us now consider what they were among their subjects. It would have been of less importance for the chiefs to have been ready, if the nations themselves had not been so. The discoveries made by the kings had acted gradually upon the people. The wisest of them began to grow accustomed to the idea that the bishop of Rome was a mere man, and sometimes even a very bad man. The people in general began to sus pect that he was not much holier than their own bishops, whose reputation was very equivocal. The licentiousness of the popes excited the indignation of Christendom, and a hatred of the Roman name was deeply seated in the hearts of nations.1 Numerous causes at the same time facili tated the emancipation ofthe various countries of the West. Let us cast a glance over their condition at this period. The Empire was a confederation of different states, having an emperor at their head, and each possessing sovereignty within its own territories. The Imperial Diet, composed of all the princes or sovereign states, exercised the legislative power for all -the Germanic body. It was the emperor's duty to ratify the laws, decrees, and recesses of this assem bly, and he had the charge of applying them and putting them into execution. The seven most powerful princes, under the title of Electors, had the privilege of conferring the imperial crown. The north of Germany, inhabited princi pally by the ancient Saxon race, had acquired the greatest portion of liberty. The emperor, whose hereditary possessions were conti nually harassed by the Turks, was compelled to keep on good terms with these princes and their courageous subjects, who were at that time necessary to him. Several free cities in the north, west, and south of the empire, had by their commerce, manufac tures, and industry, attained a high degree of prosperity, and consequently of independ ence. The powerful house of Austria, which wore the imperial crown, held most of the states of southern Germany in its power, and narrowly watched every movement. It was preparing to extend jts dominion over the whole of the empire, and even beyond it, when the Reformation raised a powerful 23 1 OdiumRomaninominis.penitus infixum esse multarum gentium animis oplnor, ob ea, quie vulgo de moribus ejus urbis jactautur. Erasm. Epp. lib. III. p. 634. D'AUBIGNE'S HISTORY OF THE REFORMATION. barrier against its encroachments, and saved the independence of Europe. As Judsea, when Christianity first appeared, was in the centre of the old world, so Germany was the centre of Christendom. It touched, at the same time, on the Low Countries, England, France, Switzerland, Italy, Hun gary, Bohemia, Poland, Denmark, and all the North. It was in the very heart of Europe that this principle of life was destined to be developed, and its pulsations were to circulate through the arteries of this great body the generous blood that was appointed to vivify all its members. The particular form of constitution which the empire had received, conformably with the dispensations of Providence, favoured the propagation of new ideas. If Germany had been a monarchy strictly so called, like France or England, the arbitrary will of the sovereign might have sufficed to check for a while the progress of the Gospel. But it was a confederation. The truth, opposed in one state, might be received with favour in another. The internal peace that Maximilian had secured to the empire was no less favourable to the Reformation. For a long time, the numerous members of the Germanlc body seemed to have taken a pleasure in tearing each other to pieces. Nothing had been seen but confusion, discord, and wars incessantly renewed. Neighbours were against neigh bours, town against town, nobles against nobles. Maximilian had laid a firm founda tion of public order in the Imperial Chamber, an institution appointed to decide all differ ences between the various states. The German nations, after so many disorders and anxieties, saw the beginning of a new era of security and repose. Nevertheless Germany, when Luther appeared, still presented to the eye of the observer that motion which agi tates the sea after a storm of long continu ance. The calm was yet uncertain. The first breeze might make the tempest burst forth anew. Of this we shall see more than one example. The Reformation, by commu nicating a new impulse to the German race, for ever destroyed the old causes of agitation. It put an end to the barbarous system that had hitherto prevailed, and gave a new one to Europe. Meanwhile the religion of Jesus Christ had exerted on Germany its peculiar in fluence. The third estate (the commonalty) had rapidly advanced. In the, different parts of the empire, particularly in the free cities, numerous institutions arose, calculated to develop this imposing mass of the people. There the arts flourished : the burghers de voted themselves in security to the tranquil labours and sweet Delations of social life. They became more and more accessible to information. Thus they daily acquired greater respect and influence. It was not magis trates, who are often compelled to adapt their 24 conduct to the political exigencies of the times ; or nobles passionately fond of mili tary glory above all things ; or an ambitious and greedy priesthood, trading with religion as its peculiar property, that were to found the Reformation in Germany. It was to be the work of the middle classes — ofthe people — of the whole nation. The peculiar character of the Germans seemed especially favourable to a religious reformation. They had not been enervated by a false civilisation. The precious seeds that the fear of God deposits among a people had not been scattered to the winds. An cient manners still survived. In Germany was found that uprightness, fidelity, and industry — that perseverance and religious disposition, which still flourishes there, and which promises greater success to the Gospel than the fickle, scornful, and sensual charac ter of other European nations. The Germans had received from Rome that great element of modern civilisation — ¦ the faith. Instruction, knowledge, legisla tion — all except their courage and their arms — had come to them from the sacerdotal city. Strong ties had from that time con nected Germany with the Papacy. The former was a spiritual conquest of the latter, and we know to what use Rome has always applied her conquests. Other nations, who had possessed the faith and civilisation before the Roman Pontiff existed, had maintained a greater independence with respect to it. But this subjection of the Germans was destined only to make the reaction more powerful at the moment of awakening. When the eyes of Germany should be opened, she would tear away the trammels in which she had so long been held captive. The slavery she had en dured would give her a greater longing for deliverance and liberty, and the hardy champions of truth would go forth from that prison of restraint and discipline in which for ages her people had been confined. There was at that time in Germany some thing very nearly resembling what in the political language of our days is termed " a see-saw system." When the head of the empire was of an energetic character, his power increased ; when on the contrary he possessed little ability, the influence and authority of the princes and electors were augmented. Never had the latter felt more independent of their chief than under Maxi milian at the period of the Reformation. And their leader having taken part against it, it is easy to understand how that very circum stance was favourable to the propagation of the Gospel. In addition to this, Germany was weary of what Rome contemptuously denominated " the patience ofthe Germans." The latter had in truth shown much patience since the time of Louis of Bavaria. From that period the emperors had laid down their arms, and the tiara had been placed without resistance D'AUBIGNE'S HISTORY OF THE REFORMATION. above the crown of the Caesars. But the strife had only changed its scene of action. It had descended to lower ground. These same struggles, of which popes and emperors had set the world an example, were soon renewed on a smaller scale in every city of Germany between the bishops and the magis trates. The burghers had taken up the sword which the chiefs of the empire had let fall. As early as 1329, the citizens of Frankfort-on-the-Oder had resisted with in trepidity all their ecclesiastical superiors. Having been excommunicated for their fide lity to the Margrave Louis, they had remained for twenty-eight years without masses, bap tism, marriage ceremonies, or funeral rites. The return of the priests and monks was greeted with laughter, like a comedy or farce. A deplorable error, no doubt, but the priests themselves were the cause of it. At the period of the Reformation these oppositions between the magistrates and the ecclesiastics had increased. Every hour the privileges and temporal assumptions of the clergy brought these two bodies into collision. But it was not only among the burgo masters, councillors, and secretaries of the cities that Rome and her clergy found oppo nents. About the same time the indignation was at work among the populace. It broke out in 1493, and later in 1502, in the Rhenish provinces : the peasants,,, exasperated at the heavy yoke imposed upon them by their ecclesiastical sovereigns,formedamongthem- selves what has been called the " League of the Shoes." They began to assemble by night in Alsace, repairing by unfrequented paths to isolated hills, where they swore to pay in future no taxes but such as they had freely consented to, to abolish all tolls and jalage,1 to limit the power of the priests, and to plunder the Jews. Then placing a pea sant's shoe on the end of a pole by way of standard, they marched against the town of Schlettstadt, proposing to call to their assist ance the free confederation of the Swiss : but they were soon dispersed. This was only one of the symptoms of the general fermen tation that agitated the castles, towns, and rural districts of the empire. Thus, every where, from high to low, was heard a hollow murmur, forerunner of the thunderbolt that was soon to fall. Getmteny appeared ripe for the appointed task oz the sixteenth century. Providence in its slow progress had prepared every thing ; and even the passions which God condemns, were directed by his almighty hand to the accom plishment of his designs. Let us take a glance at the other nations of Europe. Thirteen small republics, placed with their allies in the centre of Europe, among moun tains which seemed to form its citadel, com posed a simple and brave nation. Who would have looked in those sequestered valleys for the men whom God would choose to be the liberators of the Church conjointly with the children of the Germans? Who would have thought that small unknown cities — scarcely raised above barbarisnij hid den behind inaccessible mountains, on tho shores of lakes that had found no name in history — would surpass, as regards Chris tianity, even Jerusalem, Antioch, Ephesus, Corinth, and Rome ? Nevertheless, such was the will of Him who " causeth it to rain upon one piece of land, and the piece of land whereupon it raineth not, wi there th."1 Other circumstances besides seemed des tined to oppose numerous obstacles to the progress of the Reformation in the bosom of the Helvetic population. If the obstructions of power were to be dreaded in a monarchy, the precipitancy of the people was to be feared in a democracy. But in Switzerland, also, the way had been prepared for the truth. It was a wild but generous stock, that had been sheltered in her deep valleys, to be grafted one day with a fruit of great value. Providence had scat tered among these new people principles of courage, independence, and liberty, that were to be developed in all their majesty, so soon as the day of battle against Rome should arrive. The pope had conferred upon the- Swiss the title of Protectors of the Liberty of the Church. But they seem to have understood this honourable appellation in a sense somewhat different from the pontiff. If their soldiers guarded the pope beneath the shadow of the ancient Capitol, their citizens carefully protected in the bosom of the Alps their own religious liberties against the assaults of the pope and of the clergy. The ecclesiastics were forbidden to have recourse to any foreign jurisdiction. The "Letter of the Priests" (Pfaffenbrief, 1370) was a strong protest of Swiss independence against the abuses and power of the clergy. Zurich was distinguished among all the states by its courageous resistance to the claims of Rome. Geneva, at the other extremity of Switzerland, was contending with its bishop. These two cities distin guished themselves above all the others in the great struggle that we have undertaken to describe. But if the Helvetian towns, accessible to every amelioration, were to be drawn into the reform movement, it was not to be the case with the inhabitants of the mountains. Knowledge had not yet reached them. These cantons, the founders of Swiss liberty, proud of the part they had taken in the great struggle for independence, were not easily disposed to imitate their younger brothers of the plain. Why should they change that faith under which they had expelled the Austrian, and which had consecrated by l The Jalage was a selgnorial duty levied upon wine sold by retail. '„ D'AUBIGNE'S HISTORY OF THE REFORMATION. altars all the scenes of their triumphs ? Their priests were the only enlightened guides to whom they could have recourse : their wor ship and their festivals relieved the monotony of their tranquil hours, and agreeably dis turbed the silence of their peaceful homes. They remained steadfast against all religious innovations. Passing the Alps, we find ourselves in that Italy which was in the eyes of the majority the holy land of Christendom. Whence could Europe have looked for the good of the Church if not from Italy — if not from Rome ? Might not that power which raised successively so many different characters to the pontifical chair, some day place in it a pontiff who would become an instrument of blessing to the heritage of the Lord ? If even there was no hope in the pontiffs, were there not bishops and councils that might reform the Church ? Nothing good can come out of Nazareth : but from Jerusalem, — from Rome ! ... Such might have been the ideas of men ; but " God's thoughts are not as their thoughts." He said, " He that is filthy let him be filthy still ; " i and abandoned Italy to her unrighteousness. That land of ancient renown was by turns the victim of intestine war and of foreign invasion. The strata gems of policy, the violence of factions, the strife of arms, seemed alone destined to pre vail there, and to banish for a long season the peace of the Gospel. Italy, broken to pieces, dismembered, and without unity, appeared but little suited to receive one general impulse. Each frontier was a new barrier where the truth would be stopped. And if the truth was destined to come from the North, how could the Italians, with so refined a taste, and with social habits so delicate in their own eyes, condescend to re ceive any thing from the barbarous Ger mans ? Were the men who bestowed more admiration on the regular cadence of a sonnet than on the majesty and simplicity of the Scriptures, a proper soil for the seed of the word of God ? A false civilisation is, of all the various conditions of a nation, that which is most repugnant to the Gospel. Finally, whatever might be the state of affairs, Rome was always Rome to Italy. The temporal power of the popes not only led the different Italian states to court their alliance and their favour at any cost, but the universal dominion of Rome offered more than one inducement to the avarice and vanity of the ultra-montane states. As soon as it became a question of emancipating the rest of the world from Rome, Italy would become Italy again ; domestic quarrels would not prevail to the advantage of a foreign system ; and attacks aimed against the chief of the peninsular family would be sufficient to awaken common interests and affections from their long slumber. 1 Revelation xxli. 11. 26 The Reformation had thus little prospect of success on that side of the Alps. Never theless, there were fbundbeyond these moun tains souls prepared to receive the light of the Gospel, and Italy was not at that hour entirely disinherited. Spain possessed what Italy did not — a serious, noble-minded, and religiously dis posed population. In every age this people has reckoned pious and learned men among the members of its clergy, and it was suffi ciently remote from Rome to be able, to throw off its yoke without difficulty. There are few nations in which we might have more reasonably hoped for a revival of that primi tive Christianity which Spain had received perhaps from the hands of St. Paul himself. And yet Spain did not rise up among the nations. She was to fulfil this prophecy of Divine wisdom : The first shall be last. Va rious circumstances led to this mournful result. Spain, considering its isolated position and distance from Germany, would be affected only in a slight degree by the shocks of that great earthquake which so violently agita ted the empire. It was occupied, besides, with very different treasures from those which the word of God was then offering to the nations. The new world eclipsed the eternal world. A virgin soil, which seemed to consist of gold and silver, inflamed the imaginations of all. An eager thirst for wealth left no room in the Spanish heart for nobler thoughts. A powerful clergy, having scaffolds and treasures at its disposal, ruled in the peninsula. Spain willingly rendered a servile obedience to her plests, which, by releasing her from every spiritual anxiety, left her free to give way to her passions, — to go in pursuit of riches, discoveries, and new continents. Victorious over the Moors, she had, at the cost of her noblest blood, torn the crescent from the walls of Granada and many other cities, and planted the cross of Christ in its place. This great zeal for Christianity, which appeared destined to afford the liveliest expectations, turned against the truth. How could Catholic Spain, which had crushed infidelity, fail to oppose heresy ? How could those who had driven Mahomet from their beautiful coun- tryr 'low Luther to penetrate into it ? Their kinfea did even more : they equipped fleets against the Reformation, and went to Hol land and England in search of it, that they might subdue it. But these attacks elevated the nations assailed ; and erelong Spain was crushed by their united power. Thus, in consequence of the Reformation, did this Ca tholic country lose that temporal prosperity which had made it at first reject the spiri tual liberty of the Gospel. Nevertheless, the dwellers beyond the Pyrenees were a brave and generous race. Many of its noble children, with the same ardour, but with more knowledge than those whose blood had D'AUBIGNE'S HISTORY OF THE REFORMATION. stained the Moorish swords, came and laid down their lives as a sacrifice on the burning piles of the Inquisition. The case was nearly the same in Portugal as in Spain. Emanuel the Fortunate gave it a " golden age," which unfitted it for the self-denial required by the Gospel. The Por tuguese thronged the newly discovered roads to the East Indies and Brazil, and turned their backs on Europe and the Reforma tion. Few countries seemed better disposed for the reception of the evangelical doctrines than France. In that country almost all the intellectual and spiritual life of the Middle Ages had been concentrated. One might have been led to say, that paths had been opened in every direction for a great manifes tation of the truth. Men of the most opposite characters, and whose influence had been most extensive over the French nation, were found to have some affinity with the Reforma tion. St. Bernard had given an example of that faith of the heart, of that inward piety, which is the noblest feature of the Reforma tion. Abehird had carried into the study of theology that rational principle, which, inca pable of building up what is true, is powerful to destroy what is false. Numerous pre tended heretics had rekindled the flames of the word of God in the provinces. The uni versity of Paris had stood up against the Church, and had not feared to oppose it. At the commencement of the fifteenth century the Clemangis and the Gersons had spoken out with boldness. The Pragmatic Sanction had been a great act of independence, and seemed destined to be the palladium of the Gallican liberties. The French nobles, so numerous and so jealous of their pre-emi nence, and who at this period had seen their privileges gradually taken away to augment the kingly power, must have been favour ably disposed to a religious revolution that might have restored some portion of the independence they had lost. The people, quick, intelligent, and susceptible of gene rous emotions, were as accessible to the truth as any other, if not more so. The Reformation in this country seemed likely to crown the long travail of many cen turies. But the chariot of France, which appeared for so many generations to be has tening onwards in the same direction, sud denly turned aside at the epoch of the Refor mation, and; took quite a contrary course. Such is the will of Him who is the guide of nations and of their rulers. The prince who was then seated in the chariot and held the reins, and who, as a patron of literature, seemed of all the chiefs of Roman-Catholicism likely to be the foremost in promoting the Reformation, threw his subjects into another path. The symptoms of many centuries proved fallacious, and the impulse given to France was unavailing against the ambition and fanaticism of her kings. The house of 27 Valois deprived her of that which should have belonged to her. Perhaps had she re ceived the Gospel, she would have become too powerful. It was God's will to select weaker nations — nations just rising into ex istence, to be the depositories of his truth. France, after having been almost entirely reformed, found herself Roman-catholic in the end. The sword of her princes thrown into the balance made it incline towards Rome. Alas ! another sword — that of the Reformers themselves — completed the de struction of the Reformation. Hands that had been used to wield the sword, ceased to be raised to heaven in prayer. It is by the blood of its confessors, and not of its, adver saries, that the Gospel triumphs. At the era of the Reformation the Nether lands was one of the most flourishing coun tries of Europe. Its people were industrious, enlightened in consequence of the numerous relations they maintained with the different parts of the world, full of courage, and enthu siastic in the cause of their independence, privileges, and liberties. Situated at the very gates of Germany, it would be one of the first to hear the report of the Reformation. Two very distinct parties composed its popu lation. The more southern portion, that overflowed with wealth, gave way. How could all these manufactures carried to the highest degree of perfection — this immense commerce by land and sea — Bruges, that great mart of the northern trade — Antwerp, the queen of merchant cities — how could ali these resign themselves to a long and bloody struggle about questions of faith ? On the contrary, the northern provinces, defended by their sand-hills, the sea, and their canals, and still more by the simplicity of their man ners, and their determination to lose every thing rather than the Gospel, not only pre served their freedom, their privileges, and their faith, but even achieved their indepen dence and a glorious nationality. England gave but little promise of what she afterwards, became. Driven out of the Continent, where she had long and obsti nately attempted the conquest of France, she began to turn her eyes towards the sea, as to a kingdom destined to be the real object of her conquests, and whose inheritance was reserved for her. Twice converted to Chris tianity — once under the ancient Britons, and again under the Anglo-Saxons — she paid with great devotion the annual tribute of St. Peter's pence. Yet high destinies were in reserve for her. Mistress of the ocean, and touching at once upon all quarters of the globe, she was to become one day, with the nation to Which she should give birth, the hand of God to scatter the seeds of life in the most distant islands and over the widest con tinents. Already there were a few circum stances foreboding her mighty destiny : great learning had shone in the British islands, and some glimmerings of it still remained. A D'AURTfiNE'S HISTORY OF THE REFORMATION. crowd of foreigners — artists, merchants, and artisans — coming from the Low Countries, Germany, and other places, filled their cities and their havens. The new religious ideas would thus easily be carried thither. Finally, England had then for king an eccentric prince, who, endowed with some information and great courage, changed his projects and his ideas every hour, and turned from one side to the other according to the direction in which his violent passions drove him. It was possible that one of the Eighth Henry's caprices might some day be favourable to the Reformation. Scotland was at this time distracted by factions. A king of five years old, a queen- regent, ambitious nobles, and an influential clergy, harassed this courageous people in every direction. They were destined, how ever, erelong to shine in the first rank among those who should receive the Refor mation. The three kingdoms of the North — Den mark, Sweden, and Norway — were united under a common sceptre. These rude and warlike people seemed to have little con nexion with the doctrine of love and peace. Yet by their very energy they were perhaps better disposed than the nations of the South to receive the power of the Gospel. But these sons of warriors and of pirates brought, methinks, too warlike a character into that protestant cause, which their swords in later times so heroically defended. Russia, driven into the extremity of Europe, had but few relations with the other states. Besides, she belonged to the Greek communion ; and the Reformation effected in the Western, exerted little or no influence on the Eastern church. Poland seemed well prepared for a reform. The neighbourhood of the Bohemian and Moravian Christians had disposed it to re ceive the evangelical impulse, which by its vicinity to Germany was likely to be promptly communicated. As early as 1500 the nobility of Great Poland had demanded that the cup should be given to the laity, by appealing to the customs of the primitive Church. The liberty enjoyed in its cities, the independence of its nobles, made it a secure asylum for all Christians who had been persecuted in their own country. The truth they carried with them was joyfully received by a great num ber of the inhabitants. Yet it is one of the countries which, in our days, possesses the fewest confessors. The flame of the Reformation, which had long burnt brightly in Bohemia, had been nearly extinguished in blood. Nevertheless, some precious remnants, escaped from the slaughter, were still alive to see the day which Huss had foretold. Hungary had been torn in pieces by intes tine wars under the government of princes without ability or experience, and who had eventually bound the fate of their subjects to Austria, by enrolling this powerful family among the heirs to their crown. Such was the state of Europe at the be ginning ofthe sixteenth century, which was destined to produce so great a transformation in christian society. 28 CHAPTER VI. Roman Theology— Remains of Life— Justification by Faith —Witnesses to the Truth— Claudius— The Mystics— The Waldenses— Valdo— Wickliffe— Huss— Prediction— Protes tantism, before the Reformation— Anselm — Arnoldi — Utenheim— Martin— New Witnesses in the Church— Tho mas Oonecte— The Cardinal of Crayn— Institoris— Savo- narola-^Justification by Faith— John Vitrarius — John Lallier— John of Wesalia— John of Goch— John Wessel— Protestantism before the Reformation— The Bohemian Brethren— Prophecy of Proles— Prophecy of the Eisenach Franciscan. Havikg described the condition of the na tions and princes of Europe, we now proceed to the preparations for the great Reform which existed in theology and in the Church. The singular system of theology that was established in the Church, was destined to contribute powerfully to open the eyes of the new generation. Formed for an age of dark ness, as if that age would last for ever, that system was to be left behind, and to be rent in every direction, so soon as the age grew in understanding. This was the result. The popes had added now this and now that to the Christian doctrines. They had neither- changed nor removed anything except it would not square with their hierarchical sys tem ; what was not contrary to their plans might remain until further orders. It con tained certain true doctrines, such as Re demption and the power of the Holy Ghost, of which a skilful divine, if there was one to be found at that time, might have availed himself to combat and overthrow all the others. The pure gold mingled with the base alloy in the treasures of the Vatican, might have easily led to the discovery of the fraud. It is true, that if any courageous adversary turned his attention towards it, the winnowing-fan of Rome immediately swept away this pure grain. But these very condemnations only served to augment the confusion. This confusion was immense, and the pre tended unity was but one wide disorder. At Rome there were the doctrines of th« court and the doctrines of the church. The faith of the metropolis differed from that of the provinces. In the latter, too, this diversity was infinite. There was the faith of the princes, of the people, and of the religious orders. There was a distinction between the opinions of this convent and of that dis trict, of this doctor and of that monk. In order that the truth might exist peace ably in the ages when Rome would have D'AUBIGNE'S HISTORY OF THE REFORMATION. crushed her with its iron sceptre, she had followed the example of the insect that weaves a chrysalis of its threads in which to shelter itself during the inclement season. And, strange to say, the instruments em ployed by divine truth to this end were the so-much decried schoolmen. These indus trious artisans of thought had unravelled every theological idea, and of all their threads had woven a web, under which it would have been difficult for more skilful persons than their contemporaries to recognise the truth in its pristine purity. We may regret that the insect, so full of life, and glowing with the brightest colours, should enclose itself, to all appearance dead, in its dark cell ; but in this covering is its safety. The case was the same with truth. If the interested and suspicious policy of Rome, in the day of its power, had seen her unveiled, it would have crushed her, or at least endeavoured so to do. Disguised as she was by the theolo gians of the time, under endless subtleties and distinctions, the popes did not recognise her, or saw that in this condition she could not injure them. They took the work and the workmen under their protection. But the season might come in which this hidden truth would raise her head, and throw off the toils that had covered her. Having gained new strength in her apparent tomb, she would be seen in the day of her resurrection gaining the victory over Rome and its errors. This spring-time arrived. At the very period when these absurd coverings of the schoolmen were falling one after another under the skilful attacks and the sneers of . the new generation, the truth issued from them, blooming in youth and beauty. It was not alone from the writings of the schoolmen that powerful testimony was given to the truth. Christianity had every where mingled something of its own life with the life of the people. The Church of Christ was a dilapidated building ; but in digging around it, a portion of the living rock on which it had been originally built was dis covered among its foundations. Numerous institutions dating from the pure ages of the Church still existed, and could not fail to awakenin many souls evangelical sentiments opposed to the prevailing superstition. In spired men, the old doctors of the Church, whose writings were deposited in various libraries, raised here ana there a solitary voice. We may hope that it was listened to in silence by many an attentive ear. Let us not doubt that the Christians — and how pleasing is the thought ! — had many brethren and sisters in those monasteries, where we too easily discover little else than hypocrisy and licentiousness. The Church had fallen, because the great doctrine of justification by faith in the Saviour had been taken away from her. It was necessary, therefore, before she could rise again, that this doctrine should be restored to her. As soon as this fundamental truth should be re-established in Christendom, all the errors and observances that had taken its place — all that multitude of saints, of works, penances, masses, indulgences, &o., would disappear. As soon as the one only Mediator and his only sacrifice were acknow ledged, all other mediators and sacrifices would vanish. "This article of justification," says a man whom we may consider enlight ened on the matter,1 " is what creates the Church, nourishes it, edifies it, preserves and defends it : no one can teach worthily in the Church, or oppose an adversary with success, if he docs not adhere to this truth. This," adds the writer whom we quote, in allusion to the earliest prophecy, "is the heel that shall bruise the head ofthe serpent." God, who was preparing his work, raised up during the course of ages a long line of witnesses to the truth. But of this truth to which these generous men bore witness, they had not a sufficiently clear knowledge, or at least were not able to set it forth with ade quate distinctness. Unable to accomplish this task, they were all that they should have been to prepare the way for it. Let us add, however, that if they were not ready for the work, the work was not ready for them. The measure was not yet full': the ages had not yet accomplished their pre scribed course ; the need of the true remedy was not as yet generally felt. Scarcely had Rome usurped her power, before a strong opposition was formed against her, which was continued during the Middle Archbishop Claudius of Turin, in the ninth century ; Pierre de Brays, his disciple Henry, and Arnold of Brescia, in the twelfth century, in France and in Italy, laboured to re establish the worship of God in spirit and in truth ; but for the most part they looked for this worship too much in the absence of images and of outward observances. The Mystics, who have existed in almost every age, seeking in silence for holiness of heart, righteousness of life, and tranquil communion with God, beheld with sorrow and affright the abominations of the Church. They carefully abstained from the quarrels of the schools and from the useless discussions under which real piety had been buried. They endeavoured to withdraw men from the vain formality of external worship, from the noise and pomp of ceremonies, to lead them to that inward repose of a soul which looks to God for all its happiness. They could not do this without coming into collision on every side with the received opinions, and without laying bare the wounds of the Church. But at the same time they had not a clear notion ofthe doctrine of justification by faith. The Waldenses, far superior to the Mystics l Luther to Brentlus. 29 D'AUBIGNE'S HISTORY OF THE REFORMATION. in purity of doctrine, compose a long line of witnesses to the truth. Men more unfettered than the rest of the Church seem from the most distant times to have inhabited the summits of the Piedmontese Alps ; their number was augmented and their doctrine purified by the disciples of Valdo. From their mountain-heights the Waldenses pro tested during a long series of ages against the superstitions of Rome. ! " They contend for the lively hope which they have in God through Christ — for the regeneration and interior revival by faith, hope, and charity — for the merits of Jesus Christ, and the all- sufficiency of his grace and righteousness."2 Yet this primal truth of the justification of sinners, — this main doctrine, that should have risen from the midst of all the rest like Mont Blanc from the bosom of the Alps, was not sufficiently prominent in their system. Its summit was not yet raised high enough. Pierre Vaud or Valdo, a rich merchant of Lyons (1170), sold all his goods and gave them to the poor. He and his friends ap pear to have aimed at re-establishing the perfection of primitive Christianity in the common affairs of life. He therefore began also with the branches and not with the roots. Nevertheless his preaching was powerful because he appealed to Scripture, and it shook the Roman hierarchy to its very foun dations. Wiekliffe arose in England in 1360, and appealed from the pope to the word of God : but the real internal wound in the body of the Church was in his eyes only one of the numerous symptoms of the disease. John Huss preached in Bohemia a century before Luther preached in Saxony. He seems to have penetrated deeper than his prede cessors into the essence of christian truth. He prayed to Christ for grace to glory only in his cross and in the inestimable humilia tion of his sufferings. But his attacks were directed less against the errors of the Romish church than the scandalous lives of the clergy. Yet he was, if we may be allowed the expression, the John-Baptist of the Re formation. The flames of his pile kindled a fire in the Church that cast a brilliant light into the surrounding darkness, and whose glimmerings were not to be so readily ex tinguished. John Huss did more : prophetic words issued from the depths of his dungeon. He foresaw that a real reformation of the Church was at hand. When driven out of Prague and compelled to wander through the fields of Bohemia, where an immense crowd fol lowed his steps and hung upon his words, he had cried out : " The wicked have begun by preparing a treacherous snare for the goose. 3 But if even the goose, which is only a 1 Nobla Leyson. 2 Treatise on Antichrist, a work contemporary with the Nobla Leyson. 3 Huss in the Bohemian language signifies fooie. domestic bird, a peaceful animal, and whose flight is not very high in the air, has never theless broken through their toils, other birds, soaring more boldly towards the sky, will break through them with still greater force. Instead of a feeble goose, the truth will send forth eagles and keen-eyed vul tures. " ! This prediction was fulfilled by the reformers. When the venerable priest had been sum moned by Sigismund's order before the coun cil of Constance, and had been thrown into prison, the chapel of Bethlehem in which he had proclaimed the Gospel, and the future triumphs of Christ, occupied his mind much more than his own defence. One night, the holy martyr saw in imagination, from the depths of his dungeon, the pictures of Christ that he had had painted on the walls of his oratory, effaced by the pope and his bishops. This vision distressed him : but on the next day he saw many painters occupied in restor ing these figures in greater number and in brighter colours. As soon as their task was ended, the painters, who were surrounded by an immense crowd, exclaimed : " Now let the popes and bishops come ! they*ishall never efface them more !" And many people re joiced in Bethlehem, and I with them, adds John Huss. — " Busy yourself with your de fence rather than with your dreams," said his faithful friend, the knight of Chlum, to whom he had communicated this vision. " I am no dreamer," replied Huss, " but I maintain this for certain, that the image of Christ will never be effaced. They have wished to de stroy it, but it shall be painted affesh in all hearts by much better preachers than myself. The nation that loves Christ will rejoice at this. And I, awaking from among the dead, and rising, so to speak, from my grave, shall leap with great joy."2 A century passed away ; and the torch of the Gospel, lighted up anew by the reformers, illuminated indeed many nations, that re joiced in its brightness. But it was not only among those whom the church of Rome looks upon as her adver saries that the word of life was heard during these ages. Catholicism itself— let us say it for our consolation — counts numerous wit nesses to the truth within its pale. The primitive building had been consumed ; but a generous fire smouldered beneath its ashes, and from time to time sent forth many bril liant sparks. It is an error to believe that Christianity did not exist before the Reformation, save under the Roman-catholic form, and that it was not till then that a section of the Church assumed the form of Protestantism. Among the doctors who flourished prior to the sixteenth century, a great number no doubt had a leaning towards the system 30 l u?"81, J- Ha'8- temroro anathematis script*. ' ' Huss, Epp. sub. temp, concilii sorlptee. D'AUBIGNE'S HISTORY OF THE REFORMATION. which the Council of Trent put forth in 1562 ; but many also inclined towards the doctrines professed at Augsburg by the Pro testants in 1530 ; and the majority perhaps oscillated between these two poles. Anselm of Canterbury laid down, as the very essence of Christianity, the doctrines of the incarnation and atonement j1 and in a work, in which he teaches us how to die, he says to the departing soul: "Look only to the merits of Jesus Christ." St. Bernard proclaimed with a powerful voice the mys teries of Redemption. " If my sin cometh from another," says he, "why should not my righteousness be granted me in the same manner ? Assuredly it is better for me that it should be given me, than that it should be innate."2 Many schoolmen, and in later times the Chancellor Gerson, vigorously at tacked the errors and abuses of the Church. But let us reflect above all on the thousands of souls, obscure and unknown to the world, who have nevertheless been partakers of the real life of Christ. A monk named Arnoldi every day offered up this fervent prayer in his quiet cell : " 0 Lord Jesus Christ ! I believe that thou alone art my redemption and my righteousness." 3 Christopher of Utenheim, a pious bishop of Basle, had his name inscribed on a picture painted on glass, which is still in that city, and surrounded it with this motto, which he desired to have continually before his eyes : " My hope is in the cross of Christ ; I seek grace and not works." 4 A poor Carthusian friar, named Martin, wrote a touching confession, in which he says : " 0 most merciful God ! I know that I cannot be saved and satisfy thy righteous ness otherwise than by the merits, by the most innocent passion, and by the death of thy dearly beloved Son Holy Jesus! all my salvation is in thy hands. Thou canst not turn away from me the hands of thy love, for they have created me, formed me, -and redeemed me. Thou hast written my name with an iron pen, in great mercy and in an indelible manner, on thy, side, on thy hands, and on thy feet," &c. &e. Then the good Carthusian placed his confession in a wooden box, and enclosed it in a hole he made in the wall of his cell. 6 The piety of brother Martin would never have been known, if the box had not been discovered on the 21st December 1776, as some workmen were pulling down an old building that had formed part of the Carthu sian convent at Basle. How many convents may not have concealed such treasures ! > Cur Deus homo t 2 Et sane mi h i tntior donata quam innata. De Error thus AhEelardl, cap. 6. 3 Credo quod tu ml Domine Jesn Chrlste, solus es mea justltiu et redemptio. Leibnitz, script. Brunsw. iii. 396. 4 Spesmeacrux Christi , gratiam, non opera qutero. s Sciens posse me aliter non salvari, et tibi satisfacere nisi per merltum, &c. For these and similar quotations, see Fiacius, Oat a!. Test. Veritatis ; Wolfii Lect. Memora- blles; Mutter's Reliquien, Ac. 31 But these holy men possessed this touch ing faith for themselves alone, and knew not how to communicate it to others. Living in retirement, they could say more or less what brother Martin confided to his box : " And if I cannot confess these things with my mouth, I confess them at least with my pen and with my heart." J The word of truth was in the sanctuary of a few pious souls ; but, to use the language of the Gospel, it had not " free course" in the world. However, if they did not always confess aloud the doctrine of salvation, they were not afraid at least to protest openly, even in the bosom of the Church of Rome, against the abuses that disgraced it. Scarcely had the Councils of Constance and Basle, in which Huss and his disciples had been condemned, terminated their sit tings, when this noble line of witnesses against Rome, which we have pointed out, recommenced with greater brilliancy. Men of generous dispositions, shocked at the abominations of the papacy, arose like the Old-Testament prophets, whose fate they also shared, and uttered like them their de nunciations in a voice of thunder. Their blood stained the scaffolds, and their ashes were scattered to the winds. Thomas Conecte, a Carmelite friar, appeared in Flanders. He declared that "the grossest abominations were practised at Rome, that the Church required a reform, and that so long as we served God, we should not fear the pope's excommunications."2 All the country listened with enthusiasm ; Rome condemned him to the stake in 1432, and his contemporaries declared that he had been translated to heaven. 3 Cardinal Andrew, archbishop of Crayn, being sent to Rome as the emperor's ambas sador, was struck with dismay at discover ing that the papal sanctity, in which he had devoutly believed, was a mere fiction ; and in his simplicity he addressed Sixtus IV. in the language of evangelical remonstrance. Mockery and persecution were his only answer. Upon this he endeavoured in 1482 to assemble a new council at Basle. " The whole Church," said he, " is shaken by divi sions, heresies, sins, vices, unrighteousness, errors, and countless evils, so as to be nigh swallowed up by the devouring abyss of damnation. 4 For this reason we proclaim a general council for the reformation of the Catholic faith and the purification of morals." The archbishop was thrown into prison at Basle, where he died. The inquisitor, Henry Institoris, who was the first to oppose him, uttered these remarkable words: "All the world cries out and demands a council ; but 1 Et si hKC prffidicta confiteri non possum lingua, confiteor tamen corde et scripto. , „ . . ._ 2 Bertrand d' Argentre, Histoire de Bretaigne, p. 788. Paris, 1618. „...«». .. 3 Hie Bummo vivit Olympo. Baptista Mantuanus, De Beata vita, in fine. . , . , . , T _ „ . 4 A sorbente gurgite damnationis subtrahi. J. H. Hot' tlngeri Hist. Eccl. Siecul., xv. 347. D'AUBIGNE'S HISTORY OF THE REFORMATION. there is no human power that can reform the Church by a council. The Most High will . find other means, which are at present unknown to us, although they may be at our very doorsy to bring back the Church to its pristine condition.1 This remarkable pro phecy, delivered by an inquisitor, at the very period of Luther's birth, is the best apology for the Reformation. Jerome Savonarola shortly after entering the Dominican order at Bologna in 1475, de voted himself to continual prayers, fasting, and mortification, and cried, " Thou, O God, art good, and in thy goodness teach me thy righteousness."2 He preached with energy in Florence, to which city he had removed in 1489. His voice carried conviction ; his countenance was lit up with enthusiasm ; and his action possessed enchanting grace. " We must regenerate the Church," said he ; and he professed the great principle that alone could effect this regeneration. " God," he exclaimed, " remits the sins of men, and justifies them by his mercy. There are as many compassions in heaven as there are justified men upon earth ; for none are saved by their own works. No man can boast of himself; and if, in the presence of God, we could ask all these justified sinners — Have you been saved by your own strength ? — all would reply as with one voice, ' Not unto us, 0 Lord ! not unto us ; but to thy name be the glory !' — Therefore, 0 God, do I seek thy mercy, and I bring not unto thee my own righteousness ; but when by thy grace thou justifiest me, then thy righteousness belongs unto me ; for grace is the righteous ness of God. — So long, O man, so long as thou believest not, thou art, because of thy sin, destitute of grace. — 0 God, save me by thy righteousness, that is to say, in thy Son, who alone among men was found without sin !"3 Thus did the grand and holy doctrine of justification by faith gladden Savonarola's heart. In vain did the presidents of the Churches oppose him;1 he knew that the oracles of God were far above the visible Church, and that he must proclaim these oracles with the aid of the Church, without it, or even in spite of it. " Fly," cried he, " fly far from Babylon ! " and it was Rome that he thus designated, and Rome erelong replied in her usual manner. In 1497, the infamous Alexander VI. issued a brief against him; and in 1498, torture and the stake ter minated this reformer's life. John Vitrarius, a Franciscan monk of Tournay, whose monastic spirit does not appear to have been of a very lofty range, 1 Alium modum Altissimus procurabit, nobis quidem pro nunc incognitum, licet heu! prfie foribus existat, ut'ad prls- tinum statum ecclesia redeat. T. H. Hotting. Hist. Eccl. Sffic. xv. p. 413. 2 Bonus es tu, et in bonltate tua, doce me justilicatlones tuas. Batesius, ViUe Selectorum Virorum, p. 112. Lond. 1681. s Meditationes in Psalmos; Prediche sopra il Salmo; Quam bonus Israel, &c. ; Sermones supra Archam Noe, &c. 4 Inter omnes vero persecutores, potlssimum Ecclesne presides. Batesius, p. 118. 32 vigorously attacked the corruptions of the Church. " It is better to cut a child's throat (he said) than to place him in a religious order that is not reformed. ] — If thy curate, or any other priest, detains a woman in his house, you should go and drag the woman by force, or otherwise, out of the house. — There are some who repeat certain prayers to the Virgin Mary, that they may see her at the hour of death. But thou shalt see the devil, and not the virgin." A recanta tion was required, and the monk gave way in 1498. John Lallier, doctor of the Sorbonne, stood forth in 1484 against the tyrannical domi nion of the hierarchy. " All the clergy," said he, " have received equal power from Christ. — The Roman Church is not the head of other Churches. — You should keep the commandments of God and of the apostles : and as for the commandments of bishops and all the other lords of the Church they are but straw ! They have ruined the Church by their crafty devices.2 The priests of the Eastern Church sin not by marrying, and I believe that in the Western Church we should not sin were we also to marry. — Since the time of Sylvester, the Romish Church is no longer the Church of Christ, but a state-chureh — a money-getting church. — We are not bound to believe in the legends of the saints, anymore than in the Chronicles of France." John of Wesalia, doctor of divinity at Erfurth, a man distinguished for his energy and talents, attacked the errors on which the hierarchy was founded, and proclaimed the Holy Scriptures as the only source of faith. "It is not religion (by which he meant a monastic life) that saves us,," said he to the monks ; "it is the grace of God. — God from all eternity has established a book in which he has written the names of all his elect. Whoever is not inscribed therein, will never be so ; and whoever is therein inscribed, will never see his name blotted out. — It is by the grace of God alone that the elect are saved. He whom God is willing to save by the gift of his grace, will be saved, though all the priests in the world should wish to condemn and excommunicate him. And he whom God will condemn, though all should wish to save him, will nevertheless be condemned.3 — By what au dacity do the successors of the apostles en join, not what Christ has prescribed in his holy books, but what they themselves have devised, carried away, as they are, by thirst for gold and by the desire of ruling ? — I despise the Hope, the Church and the Councils, and I give' Christ the glory." Wesalia, having arrived gradually at these convictions, pro- il 1^jLTeeatli' CoItectio Jndiciorum de Novls Erroribns, 2 Ibidem. 3 Et quem Deus vult damnare, si omnes vellent hunc sal- T^.re' adtac .18'e UMnnaretur. Poradoxa Damnata. &c., i74y. jytoguntue. D'AUBIGNE'S HISTORY OF THE REFORMATION. fessed them boldly from the pulpit, and en tered into communication with the delegates from the Hussites. Feeble, and bending un der the weight of years, a prey to sickness, and leaning upon his staff, this courageous old man appeared with tottering steps before the Inquisition, and perished in its dungeons in 1482. John of Goch, prior of Malines, about the same period, extolled christian liberty as the essence of every virtue. He charged the prevailing doctrines with Pelagianism, and denominated Thomas Aquinas " the prince of error." " The canonical scriptures alone," said he, " are entitled to a sure confidence, and have an undeniable authority. The writings of the ancient Fathers have no authority, but so far as they are conform able with canonical truth.1 The common proverb says truly : Satan would be ashamed to think of what a monk dares undertake." But the most remarkable of these forerun ners of the Reformation was undoubtedly John Wessel, surnamed " the Light of the World," a man full of courage and of love for the truth, who was doctor in divinity successively at Cologne, Louvain, Paris, Hei delberg, and Groningen, and of whom Lu ther says : " Had I read, his works sooner, my enemies might have thought I had derived every thing from Wessel, so much are we of one mind."5 — " St. Paul and St. James," says Wessel, " preach different but not contrary doctrines. Both maintain that ' the just shall live by faith ; ' but by a faith working by charity. He who, at the sound of the Gospel, believes, desires, hopes, trusts in the glad tidings, and loves Him who justifies and blesses him, forthwith yields himself up entirely to Him whom he loves, and attributes no merit to himself, since he knows that of himself he has nothing.3 — The sheep must discern the things on which he feeds, and avoid a corrupted nu triment, even when presented by the shep herd himself. The people should follow the shepherd into the pastures; but when he ceases to lead them into the pastures, he is no longer a shepherd, and then, since he does not fulfil his duty, the flock is not bound to follow him. Nothing is more effec tual to the destruction of the Church than a corrupted clergy. All Christians, even the humblest and most simple, are bound to resist those who are destroying the Church.4 We must obey the precepts of doctors and of prelates only according to the measure laid down by St. Paul' (1 Thess. v. l Antiquorum patram scripts tantum habent auctoritatis, quantum canonicte veritati sunt conformia. Epist. Apolo- get. Antwerp, 1521. . 2 Adeo Bpiritus utr,iusque concordat. Farrago Wesseli.in 3 Extentus totus et propensus in eum quem amat, a quo credit, cupit, sperat, confidit, justificatur, nihil sibi ipsi tri- buit, qui scit nihU habere ex se. De Magnit. Passionis, cap. xlvi. Opera, p. 553. 4 Nemo magis Ecclesiam destruit, quam corruptus clerus. Destruentibus Ecclesiam omnes Christiani tenentur resis- tere. De Potestate Eccles. Opp., p. 769. 21) ; that is to say, so far as, ' sitting in Moses' seat,' they teach according to Moses. We are God's servants, and not the pope's, as it is said : Them shalt worship the Lord thy God-and him only shalt thou serve. The Holy Spirit has reserved to himself the duty of renewing, vivifying, preserving, and increas ing the unity of the Church, and has not abandoned it to the Roman pontiff, who frequently cares nothing about it. — Even her sex does not prevent a woman if she is faithful and prudent, and if she has cha rity shed abroad in her heart, from being able to feel, judge, approve, and decide by a judgment that God will ratify." Thus, in proportion as the Reformation drew nigh, were the voices multiplied that proclaimed the truth. We might be led to say that the Church intended showing by these means that the Reformation existed before Luther. Protestantism arose in the Church on the very day in which the germs of Popery showed themselves ; as in the political world conservative principles have existed from the veiy moment when the despotism of nobles or the disorders of factions have raised their heads. Protestantism was sometimes even stronger than the Papacy in the centuries immediately preceding the Re formation. What could Rome oppose to all the witnesses we have just heard, at the time when their voices re-echoed through the earth ? — A few monks without either learn ing or piety. To this we may add, that the Reformation had taken root, not only among the doctors of the Church, but also among the people. The opinions of Wickliffe, issuing from Oxford, had spread over all Christendom, and had found adherents in Bavaria, Swabia, Franconia, and Prussia. In Bohemia, from the very "bosom of discord and of war, had come forth at last a peaceful and christian community, reminding the world ofthe primi tive Church, and giving powerful testimony to the grand principle of Gospel opposition, that " Christ, and not Peter, and his suc cessors, is the rock on which the Church is founded." Belonging equally to the German and Sclavonic races, these simple Christians had sent forth missionaries into the midst of the various nations who spoke their language, noiselessly to gain over followers to their opinions. Nicholas Kuss, who was twice visited by them at Rostock, began in 1511 to preach openly against the pope. 1 It is important to notice this state of affairs. When the Wisdom from on high shall utter his lessons in a still louder voice, there will be minds and hearts everywhere to listen to them. WTien the Husbandman, who has been continually traversing his Church, shall go forth to a new and to a greater sowing, the soil will be prepared to receive the grain. When the trumpet of the 1 Wolfii Lect. Memorab,, ii. p. 27. 33 D'AUBIGNE'S HISTORY OF THE REFORMATION. Angel of the covenant, that has never ceased to be heard in the world, shall send forth a louder peal, numbers will gird themselves to the battle. _ The Church already had a presentiment that the hour of combat was approaching. If more than one philosopher announced in some measure, during the last century, the revolution in which it closed, shall we be astonished that many doctors at the end of the fifteenth century had foreseen the ap proaching change that would regenerate the Church ? Andrew Proles, provincial of the Augus- tines, who for nearly half a century presided over that congregation, and who, with un shaken firmness, maintained in his order the doctrines of St. Augustine, being assembled with his brethren in the convent of Him- melspforte, near Wernigerode, used often to stop them while reading the word of God, and say : " My brethren ! ye hear the testi mony of the Holy Scriptures ! They declare that by grace we are what we are, and that by it alone we hold all that we possess. Whence then proceed so much darkness and such horrible superstitions? Oh, my brethren! Christianity needs a bold and a great reform, and methinks I see it already approaching." Then would the monks cry out, " Why do you not begin this reform yourself, and oppose such a cloud of errors ? " — " You see, my brethren," replied the aged provincial, " that I am bent with the weight of years, and weak in body, and that I have not the learning, ability, and eloquence, that so great an undertaking requires. But God will raise up a hero, who by his age, strength, talents, learning, genius, and eloquence, shall hold the foremost place. He will begin the Reformation ; he will oppose error, and God will give him boldness to resist the mighty ones of the earth."1 An old monk of fiim- melspforte, who had often heard these words, communicated them to Flacius. It was in the very order of which Proles was pro vincial that the Christian hero he foretold was to appear. A monk named John Hilten was an inmate of the Franciscan convent at Eisenach in Thuringia. The prophecies of Daniel and the Revelation of St. John were his especial study. He even wrote a commentary on these works, and censured the most flagrant abuses of the monastic life. The exaspe rated monks threw him into prison. His advanced age and the filthiness of his dungeon brought on a dangerous illness: he asked for the superior, and the latter had scarcely arrived before he burst into a violent passion, and without listening to the prisoner's com plaints, bitterly abused his doctrine, that was opposed, adds the chronicle, to the monk's kitchen. The Franciscan, forgetting his malady, and groaning heavily, replied : " I 1 Excltabit Dominus heroem, Estate, vlribus. Flaoil Catal. Testium Veritatls, p. B43. bear your insults calmly for the love of Christ; for I have said nothing that can endan ger the monastic state : I have only censured its most crying abuses. But," continued he (according to what Melancthon records in his Apology for the Augsburg Confession of Faith), " another man will arise in the year of our Lord 1516 : he will destroy you, and you shall not be able to resist him." 1 John Hilten, who had prophesied that the end of the world would come in 1651, was less mistaken in pointing out the year when the future Re former would appear. Not long after, he was born in a small village at a little distance from the monk's dungeon : in this very town of Eisenach he commenced his studies, and only one year later than the imprisoned friar had stated, he publicly entered upon the Re formation. 34 CHAPTER VII. Third Preparation— Letters— Revival— Recollections of An tiquity in Italy— Influence of the Humanists— Christia nity of Dante— Valla— Infidelity in Italy— Platonic Philo sophy—Commencement of Learning in Germans — .Young Students— Printing— Characteristics of German Litera ture—The Learned and the Schoolmen— A New World— Reuchlin— Reuchlin in Italy— His Labours— His Influence in Germany— Mysticism— Contest with the Dominicans. Thus princes and people, living members of the Church and theologians, were labouring each in their sphere to prepare the work which the sixteenth century was to accom plish. But the Reformation was destined to find another auxiliary in learning. The human mind was gaining strength. This circumstance alone would have wrought its emancipation. Let but a small seed fall near a time-eaten wall, and as the tree grows up, the wall will be overthrown. The Roman pontiff had constituted himself the guardian of the people, and his superior intelligence rendered this an easy task. For a long time he had kept them in a state of pupilage, but no w they were breaking bounds on every side. This venerable guardianship, which derived its origin from the principles of eternal life and civilisation that Rome had communicated to the barbarous nations, could no longer be exercised without opposition. A formidable antagonist had taken up his position against it, in order to control it. The natural tendency of the human mind to expand, to examine, to learn, had given birth to this new power. Men's eyes were opened : they demanded a reason for each step taken by this long-venerated guide, under whose direction they had walked in silence, so long as their eyes were closed. The nations of modern Europe had passed the age of infancy ; 1 Alius quidem veniet... Apologia Conf. Aug. xiii. De Votis Monasticls. D'AUBIGNE'S HISTORY OF THE REFORMATION. their manhood was beginning. Their artless and credulous simplicity had given way to an inquiring spirit, — to a reason impatient to fathom things to the very bottom. They asked what had been God's object in making a revelation to the world, and whether men had a right to set themselves up as mediators between God and their brethren. One thing only could have saved the Church: this was to elevate itself still higher than the people. To be on a level with them was not sufficient. But men soon found, on the contrary, that she was much below them. She began to take a downward course, at the very time that they were ascending. When men began to soar towards the regions of intelligence, the priesthood was found engrossed in earthly pursuits and human interests. It is a phenomenon that has often been renewed in history. The eaglet's wings had grown ; and there was no man whose hand could reach it and stay its flight. It was in Italy that the human mind first began to soar above the earth. The doctrines of the schoolmen and ro mantic poetry had never reigned undisturbed in that peninsula. Some faint recollections of antiquity had always remained in Italy, — recollections that were revived in great strength towards the end of the Middle Ages, and which ere long communicated a fresh impulse to the human mind. Already in the fourteenth century had Dante and Petrarch revived the credit of the ancient Roman poets ; at the same time the former placed the mightiest popes in his " Inferno," and the second 'called with bold ness for the primitive constitution of the Church. At the beginning of the fifteenth century John of Ravenna taught the Latin literature with great renown at Padua and Florence ; and Chrysoloras interpreted the masterpieces of Greece at Florence and at Pavia. While learning was thus issuing from the prisons in which it had been held captive in Europe, the East imparted fresh light to the West. The standard of Mahomet, planted on the walls of Constantinople in 1453, had driven its learned men into exile. They had carried the learning of Greece with them into Italy. The torch of the ancients rekindled the minds that had been for ages quenched in darkness. George of Trebizond, Argyro- polos, Bessarion, Lascaris, Chalcondylas, and many others, inspired the West with their own love for Greece and its noble works of genius. The patriotism of the Italians was awakened ; and there arose in Italy a great number of learned men, among whom shone Gasparino, Aurispa, Aretino, Poggio, and Valla, who endeavoured in like manner to restore the writers of ancient Rome to the honour they merited. There was at that period a great burst of light, and Rome was doomed to suffer by it. This passion for antiquity which took pos session of the humanists, shook in the most elevated minds their attachment to the Church, for " no man can serve two masters." At the same time the studies to which they devoted themselves, placed at the disposition of these learned men a method entirely new and unknown to the schoolmen, of examining and judging the teaching of the Church. Finding in the Bible, much more than in the works of theologians, the beauties that charmed them in the classic authors, the humanists were fully inclined to place the Bible above the doctors. They reformed the taste, and thus prepared the way for the Reformation of the faith. These scholars, it is true, loudly protested that their studies did not strike at the faith of the Church ; yet they attacked the school men long before the Reformers did, and turned into ridicule those barbarians, those " Teutons," who had existed but not lived.1 Some even proclaimed the doctrines of the Gospel, and laid hands on what Rome held most dear. Dante, although adhering to many Romish doctrines, had already pro claimed the power of faith, as did the re formers. "It is true faith that renders us citizens of heaven," said he.2 " Faith accord ing to the Gospel is the principle of life ; it is the spark that, spreading daily more and more, becomes a living flame, and shines on us, like a star in heaven. Without faith there is no good work, nor upright fife, that can avail us. However great be the sin, the arms of Divine grace are wider still, and embrace all who turn to God.3 The soul_ is not lost through the anathemas of the pontiff; and eternal love can still reach it, so long as hope retains her verdant blossom.4 From God, from God alone, cometh our righteous ness by faith." And speaking of the Church, Dante exclaims : " 0 my bark, how deeply art thou laden ! 0 Constantine, what mis chief has been engendered, I will not say by thy conversion, but by that offering which the wealthy father iben received from thee !" Somewhat later, Laurentius Valla applied the study of antiquity to the opinions of the Church : he denied the authenticity of the correspondence between Christ and King Abgar ; he rejected the tradition of the draw ing up of the Apostles' Creed ; and sapped the foundation on which reposed the pre tended donation of Constantine.5 Still this great light which the study of antiquity threw out in the fifteenth century was calculated only to destroy : it could not build up. Neither Homer nor Virgil could l Qui ne vtventes quidem vivebant. Politiani Epp. ix. 3. 2 Parad. xxiv. 44. 3 Orribil furon 11 peccati miei ; Ma la bonta, Infinita ha si gran braccia, Che prende ci6 che si rivolve a lei. Purgator. iii. 121-124. 4 Per lor maladizion si non si perde, Che non possa tornar l'eterno amore, Mentre che la speranza ha nor del verde. Ibid. 134-136. 5 De ernentita Constantini donatione declamatio ad Pa. pam. Opp. Basil. 1543. 35 D'AUBIGNE'S HISTORY OF THE REFORMATION. build up. Neither Homer nor Virgil could save the Church. The revival of learning, sciences, and arts, was not the principle of the Reformation. The paganism of the poets, as it reappeared in Italy, rather con firmed the paganism of the heart. The scep ticism of the followers of Aristotle, and the contempt for every thing that did not apper tain to philology, took possession of many literary men, and engendered an incredu lity which, even while affecting submis sion to the Church, attacked the most important truths of religion. Peter Pom- pomatius, the most distinguished represen tative of this impious tendency, publicly taught at Bologna and Padua that the im mortality of the soul and the doctrine of providence were mere philosophical pro blems.1 John Francis Pico, nephew of Pico of Mirandola, speaks of one pope who did not believe in God;2 and of another who, having acknowledged to a friend his disbelief in the immortality of the soul, appeared to him one night after death, and said : " Alas ! the eternal fire that is now consuming me makes me feel but too sen sibly the immortality of that soul which I had thought would die with the body !" This may remind us of those remarkable words spoken, it is asserted, by Leo. X. to his secretary Bembo : " Every age knows how useful this fable of Christ has been to us and ours"3 Contemptible superstitions were attacked, but incredulity with its dis dainful and mocking sneer was set up in their place. To laugh at every thing, even at what was most holy, was the fashion and the badge of a freethinker. Religion was considered only as a means of govern ing the world. " I fear," said Erasmus in 1516, " that with the study of ancient lite rature, the olden paganism will reappear." It is true that then, as after the ridicule of the Augustan age, and as even in our days after the sneers of the last century, a new Platonism arose and attacked this rash scepticism, and sought, like the phi losophy of the present times, to inspire a certain degree of respect for Christianity, and to rekindle a religious feeling in the heart. The Medici at Florence encouraged these efforts of the Platonists. But no merely philosophical religion can ever rege nerate the Church or the world. It may lose its strength in a kind of mystical enthusi asm ; but as it is supercilious, and despises the preaching of the cross of Christ, pretend ing to see in the Gospel doctrines little else but figures and symbols, incomprehensible to the majority of mankind, it will ever be powerless to reform and save. What then would have been the result, had real Christianity not reappeared in the 1 De Immortalltate Anlmoj, De Prajdestinatione et Pro- videntia, &c. 2 Qui nullum Deum credens. J. F. Plci de Fide, Opp. li. 820. 3 Ea de Chrlsto fabula. Mornali Hist. Papatus, p. 820. world, and if faith had not once more filled all hearts with its own strength and holi ness ? The Reformation preserved both re ligion and society. If the Church of Rome had had God's glory and the welfare of the people at heart, she would have welcomed the Reformation with joy. But what was this to a Leo the Tenth ? And yet a torch could not be lighted in Italy without its rays shining beyond the Alps. The affairs of the church kept up a continual intercourse between this peninsula and the other parts of Christendom. The barbarians felt erelong the superiority and superciliousness of the Italians, and began to be ashamed of their defects of language and of style. A few young noblemen, such as Dalberg, Langen, and Spiegelberg, burn ing with the desire of knowledge, visited Italy, and brought back to Germany and imparted to their friends the learning, the grammar, and the classic authors they so much desired.1 Soon there appeared a man of distinguished talents, Rodolph Agricola, whose learning and genius won for him as great veneration as if he had lived in the age of Augustus or of Pericles. The ardour of his mind and the fatigues of the school wore him out in a few years ; but in the intercourse of private life he had trained up noble dis ciples, who carried their master's zeal over all Germany. Often when assembled around him had they deplored the darkness of the Church, and asked why St. Paul so frequently repeats that men are justified by faith and not by works.2 At the feet of these new teachers was soon gathered a youthful but rude band of scholars, living upon alms, studying without books ; and who, divided into societies of priests of Bacchus, arquebu- siers, and others, passed in disorderly troops from town to town, and from school to school. No matter ; these strange companies were the beginning of a literary public. Gra dually the masterpieces of antiquity issued from the German presses and supplanted the schoolmen ; and the art of printing, disco vered at Mentz in 1440, multiplied the voices that boldly remonstrated against the corrup tions of the Church, and those not less powerful, which invited the human mind into new paths of inquiry. The study of ancient literature produced very different effects in Germany from those which followed it in Italy and in France : it was there combined with faith. The Germans immediately looked for the advantage that might accrue to religion from these new literary pursuits. What had produced in Italian minds little more than a minute and barren refinement of the understanding, per vaded the whole being of the Germans, warmed their hearts, and prepared them for 36 ' Hamelmann, Relatio Hist. This first impulse has been erroneously ascribed to Thomas a Kempis. Delprat over li. Oroote, p. 280. 2 Fide justos esse. Mclancth. Decl. i. 602. D'AUBIGNE'S HISTORY OF THE REFORMATION. a brighter light. The first restorers of learn ing in Italy and in France were remarkable for their levity, and frequently also for their immorality. Their successors in Germany, animated by a serious feeling, zealously went in search of truth. Italy, offering up her incense to literature and profane learning, beheld the rise of a sceptical opposition. Germany, occupied with deep theological questions, and thrown back upon herself, saw the rise of an opposition based on faith. In the one country the foundations of the Church were undermined ; in the other they were re-established on their true basis. A remarkable society was formed in the empire, composed of liberal, generous-minded, and learned men, who counted princes among their number, and who endeavoured to make learning profitable to religion. Some brought to their studies the humble faith of children ; others, an enlightened and penetrating intel lect, inclined perhaps to overstep the bounds of legitimate freedom and criticism : yet both contributed to clear the entrance of the temple from the superstitions that had en cumbered it. The monkish theologians perceived their danger, and began to clamour against these very studies which they had tolerated in Italy and France, because they had there gone hand in hand with frivolity and pro fligacy. A conspiracy was formed amongst them against literature and science, for be hind them faith was seen advancing. A monk, cautioning a person against the here sies of Erasmus, was asked in what they consisted. He acknowledged that he had not read the work of which he was speaking, and could only say that " it was written in too pure Latinity." The disciples of learning and the scholastic divines soon came to open war. The latter beheld with alarm the movement that was taking place in the realms of intellect, and thought that immobility and darkness would be the surest guardians of the Church. It was to save Rome that they opposed the revival of letters; but in this they contri buted to its fall. Rome herself had a great share in producing this result. Momentarily led astray under the pontificate of Leo X., she deserted her old friends, and clasped her young adversaries in her arms. Popery and learning formed an alliance that seemed like ly to dissolve the union between the monastic orders and the hierarchy. The popes did not at the first glance perceive that what they had taken for a plaything was in reality a sword that might cause their death. In like manner, during the last century, princes were seen welcoming to their courts political and philosophical principles which, had they yielded to all their influences, would have overturned their thrones. Such an alliance was not of long duration. Learning went forward, without a care as to what might endanger the power of its patron. The monks 37 and schoolmen were well aware that to desert the pope would be to abandon themselves : and the pope, notwithstanding the brief patronage he accorded to the fine arts, Was not less active, when he saw the danger, in taking measures the most contrary to the spirit of the times. The universities defended themselves, as best they could, against the intrusion of this new light. Rhagius was expelled from Co logne, Celtes from Leipsic, and Hermann von dem Busch from Rostock. Still the new doctors, and the ancient classics with them, gradually established themselves, and fre quently with the aid of the ruling princes, in these superior academies. In despite of the schoolmen, societies of grammarians and of poets were soon formed in them. Every thing was to be converted into Greek and Latin, even to their very names. How could the admirers of Sophocles and of Virgil be known by such barbarous appellations as Krachenberger or Schwarzerd? At the same time a spirit of independence spread through the universities. The students were no longer seen in seminarist fashion, with their books under their arms, walking demurely, respect fully, and with downcast eyes, behind their masters. The petulance of Martial and of Ovid had passed into these new disciples of the Muses. They hailed with transport the ridicule heaped on the dialectic theologians ; and the heads of the literary movement were sometimes accused of favouring, and even of exciting the disorderly proceedings of the scholars. Thus a new world, sprung out of antiquity, had arisen in the midst of the world of the Middle Ages. The two parties could not avoid coming to blows : a struggle was at hand. It was the mildest champion of lite rature, an old man drawing near the close of his peaceful career, who was to begin the conflict. In order that the truth might prove trium phant, it was necessary first that the weapons by which she was to conquer should be brought forth from the arsenals where they had lain buried for ages. These weapons were the Holy Scriptures of the Old and New Testament. It was necessary to revive in Christendom the love and the study of sacred Greek and Hebrew learning. The man whom the providence of God selected for this task was named John Reuchlin. The sweet voice of a child had been re marked in the choir of the church at Pforz heim, and had attracted the notice of the Margrave of Baden. It was that of John Reuchlin, a boy of agreeable manners and lively disposition, the son of a worthy bur gess of that town. The margrave soon showed him especial favour, and made choice of him in 1473 to accompany his son Frede rick to the university of Paris. The son of the usher of Pforzheim, in transports of joy, arrived with the prince at D'AUBIGNE'S HISTORY OF THE REFORMATION. this school, then the most celebrated of the West. Here he found the Spartan Hermo- nymos and John Wessel, the light of the world; and had now an opportunity of stu dying Greek and Hebrew under able masters, of which languages there was at that time no professor in Germany, and of which he was one day to be the restorer in the home of the Reformation. The young and indi gent German transcribed for richer students the rhapsodies of Homer and the orations of Isocrates, gaining thus the means of prose cuting his own studies and of purchasing books. But he heard other things from the mouth of Wessel, that made a deep impression on his mind. " The popes may err. All human satisfactions are blasphemy against Christ, who has reconciled and completely justified the human race. To God alone belongs the power of giving plenary absolution. It is not necessary to confess our sins to the priest. There is no purgatory unless it be God himself, who is a devouring fire, and who cleanseth from all impurity." Reuchlin had barely attained the age of twenty years, when he taught philosophy and Greek and Latin at Basle ; and — what then passed for a miracle — a German was heard speaking Greek. The partisans of Rome began to feel un easy, when they saw these generous spirits searching into the ancient treasures. " The Romans make wry faces," said Reuchlin, " and cry out, pretending that all these lite rary pursuits are contrary to the Romish piety, because the Greeks are schismatics. Oh ! what toil and suffering must be under gone to restore wisdom and learning to Germany !" Not long after, Eberhard of Wurtemberg invited Reuchlin to Tubingen to adorn that rising university. In 1483, he took him with him into Italy. Chalcondylas, Aurispa, and John Pico of Mirandola, were his friends and companions at Florence. At Rome, when Eberhard had a solemn audience of the pope, surrounded by his cardinals, Reuchlin deli vered an address in such pure and elegant Latinity, that the assembly, who expected nothing of the kind from a barbarous Ger man, was filled with astonishment, and the pontiff exclaimed: " This man certainly de serves to rank with the best orators of France and Italy." Ten years later Reuchlin was compelled to take refuge at Heidelberg, at the court of the Elector Philip, to escape the vengeance of Eberhard 's successor. Philip, in conjunc tion with John of Dalberg, bishop of Worms, his friend and chancellor, endeavoured to diffuse the light that was beginning to dawn in every part of Germany. Dalberg had founded a library, which was open to all the learned. On this new stage Reuchlin made great efforts to destroy the barbarism of his countrymen. 38 Having been sent by the elector in 1498 on an important mission to Rome, he em ployed all the time and money he could spare, either in improving himself in the Hebrew language under the learned Israelite, Abdias Sphorna, or in purchasing all the Greek and Hebrew manuscripts he could find, with a, view of employing them as so many torches to increase in his own country the light which was already beginning to appear. Argyropolos, an illustrious Greek, was then at Rome explaining to a numerous audi tory the ancient marvels of his national lite rature. The learned ambassador proceeded with his attendants to the hall where this doctor was lecturing, and on his entrance saluted the master, and deplored the misfor tunes of Greece^ then expiring under the blows of the Ottomans. The astonished scholar asked his visiter, " Where do you come from, and do you understand Greek?" Reuchlin answered, " I am a German, and I am not entirely ignorant of your language." At the request of Argyropolos, he read and explained a passage from Thucydides, which the professor happened to have before him. Upon this Argyropolos, struck with astonish ment and grief, exclaimed, "Alas ! alas ! the fugitive and exiled Greece has gone to hide herself beyond the Alps 1" It was thus that the sons of barbarous Germany and of ancient and learned Greece met in the palaces of Rome ; thus the East and the West embraced in this resort of the world, and the one poured into the lap of the other those intellectual treasures which it had snatched from the barbarism of the Otto mans. God, whenever his plans require it, brings together in an instant, by some great catastrophe, the things which seemed des tined to remain for ever separated. Reuchlin, on his return to Germany, was able to take up his residence again at Wur temberg. It was at this time he accom plished those labours that were so useful to Luther and to the Reformation. This man, who, as Count Palatine, occupied a distin guished place in the empire, and who, as philosopher, contributed to lower Aristotle and exalt Plato, drew up a Latin dictionary which superseded those of the schoolmen ; wrote a Greek grammar which greatly faci litated the study of that language ; translated and explained the Penitential Psalms ; cor rected the Vulgate ; and — which is his chief merit and glory — was the first to publish in Germany a Hebrew grammar and dictionary. Reuchlin by this labour reopened the long- sealed books of the old covenant, and thus raised, as he says himself, "a monument more durable than brass." But Reuchlin endeavoured to promote the cause of truth as much by bis life as by his writings. By his lofty stature, his com manding person, and his engaging address, he immediately gained the confidence of all with whom he had to deal. His thirst for D'AUBIGNE'S HISTORY OF THE REFORMATION. knowledge was only equalled by his zeal in communicating what he had learnt. He spared neither money nor labour to introduce into Germany the editions of the classic writers as they issued from the Italian presses ; and thus the usher's son did more to enlighten his fellow-countrymen than rich corporations or mighty princes. His influence over youth was very extensive; and who can estimate all that the Reformation owes to him in that respect ? We will mention only one instance. His cousin, a young man, the son of a skilful and celebrated armourer named Schwarzerd, came to reside with his sister Elisabeth, in order to study under his direction. Reuchlin, delighted at beholding the genius and industry of his youthful scholar, adopted him as his son. Good advice, presents of books, example, — nothing was spared to make his relative useful to the Church and to his country. He was charmed at seeing the work prosper under his eyes ; and finding the German name of Schwarzerd too harsh, he translated it into Greek, accord ing to the fashion of the times, and named the young student Melancthon. This was the illustrious friend of Luther. But grammatical studies could not satisfy Reuchlin. Imitating his Jewish teachers, he began to study the mystic meaning of the Word. " God is a spirit," said he, " the Word is a breath, man breathes, God is the Word. The names which He has given to himself are an echo of eternity." 1 He thought with the Cabalists that man can ascend from symbol to symbol, and from form to form to the last and purest of all forms, — to that which regulates the kingdom of the spirit. 2 While Reuchlin was bewildering himself in these peaceful and abstract researches, the hostility of the schoolmen, suddenly and very much against his will, forced him into a violent contest that was one of the preludes to the Reformation. There dwelt at Cologne one Pfefferkorn, a baptized rabbi, and intimately connected with the inquisitor Hochstraten. This man and the Dominicans solicited and obtained from the Emperor Maximilian — perhaps with very good intentions — an order by virtue of which the Jews were to bring all their He brew books (the Bible only excepted) to the town-hall of the place in which they resided. Here these writings were to be burnt. The motive put forward was, that they were full of blasphemies against Jesus Christ. It must be acknowledged they were at least full of absurdities, and that the Jews them selves would have been no great losers by the proposed measure. The emperor invited Reuchlin to give his opinion upon these works. The learned doctor particularly singled out the books written against Christianity, leaving them l De Verbo Mirifico. 2 De Arte Cabalistlea. 39 to their destined fate ; but he endeavoured to save the rest. " The best way to convert the Israelites," added he, " would be to esta blish two professors of the Hebrew language in each university, who should teach the theologians to read the Bible in Hebrew, and thus to refute the Jewish doctors." In consequence of this advice the Jews had their books restored to them. The proselyte and the inquisitor, like hungry ravens who see their prey escaping them, raised a furious clamour. They picked out different passages from Reuchlin 's work, perverted their meaning, declared the author a heretic, accused him of a secret inclination to Judaism, and threatened him with the dungeons of the Inquisition. Reuchlin at first gave way to alarm ; but as these men became daily more insolent, and prescribed disgraceful conditions, he published in 1513 a " Defence against his Cologne Slanderers," in which he described the whole party in the liveliest colours. The Dominicans swore to be avenged, and hoped, by a stroke of authority, to up hold their tottering power. Hochstraten had a tribunal formed at Mentz against Reuchlin, and the writings of this learned man were committed to the flames. Then the innovators, the masters and disciples of the new school, feeling themselves all at tacked in the person of Reuchlin, rose up like one man. The times were changed: Germany and literature were not Spain and the Inquisition. This great literary move ment had called a public opinion into exist ence. Even the superior clergy were almost entirely gained over to it. Reuchlin appealed to Leo X. This pope, who was no friend to the ignorant and fanatical monks, referred the whole matter to the Bishop of Spires, who declared Reuchlin innocent, and con demned the monks to pay the expenses of the investigation. The Dominicans, those stanch supporters of the Papacy, had re course in their exasperation to the infallible decrees of Rome ; and Leo X., not knowing how to act between these two hostile powers, issued a mandate de supersedendo. This union of learning with faith is one of the features of the Reformation, and dis tinguishes it both from the establishment of Christianity and from the religious revivals of the present day. The Christians contem porary with the Apostles had against them all the refinement of their age ; and, with very few exceptions, it is the same with those of our times. The majority of learned men were with the reformers. Even public opinion was favourable to them. The work thus gained in extent ; but perhaps it lost in depth. Luther, acknowledging all that Reuchlin had done, wrote to him shortly after his victory over the Dominicans : " The Lord has been at work in you, that the light of Holy Scripture might begin to shine in that D'AUBIGNE'S HISTORY OF THE REFORMATION. Germany where for so many ages, alas ! it was not only stifled but entirely extinct."1 CHAPTER VIII. Erasmus— Erasmus a Canon— At Paris— His Genius— His Reputation— His Influence— Popular Attack— Praise of Folly— Gibes— Churchmen— Saints— Folly and the Popes —Attack on Science— Principles— Greek New Testament —His Profession of Faith— His Labours and Influence— His Failings— Two Parties— Reform without Violence- Was such possible T—Unreformed Church— His Timidity —His Indecision— Erasmus loses his Influence with all Parties. One man — the great writer of the opposition at the beginning of the sixteenth century — had already appeared, who considered it as the grand affair of his life to attack the doc trines of the schools and of the convents. Reuchlin was not twelve years old when this great genius of the age was born. A man of no small vivacity and wit, named Gerard, a native of Gouda in the Low Coun tries, loved a physician's daughter. The principles of Christianity did not govern his life, or at least his passions silenced them. His parents and his nine brothers urged him to embrace a monastic life. He fled from his home, leaving the object of his affections on the point of becoming a mother, and repaired to Rome. The frail Margaret gave birth to a son. Gerard was not informed of it ; and some time after he received from his parents the intelligence that she whom he had loved was no more. Overwhelmed with grief, he entered the priesthood, and devoted himself entirely to the service of God. He returned to Holland : Margaret was still living ! She would not marry another, and Gerard re mained faithful to his sacerdotal vows. Their affection was concentrated on their son. His mother had taken the tenderest care of him : the father, after his return, sent him to school, although he was only four years old. He was not yet thirteen, when his teacher, Sinthemius of Deventer, one day embraced him with rapture, exclaiming, " This child will attain the highest pinnacle of learning ! " It was Erasmus of Rotterdam. About this time his mother died, and not long after his broken-hearted father followed her to the grave. The youthful Erasmus2 was now alone. He entertained the greatest dislike for a monastic life, which his guardians urged him to embrace, but to which, from his very birth, we might say, he had been opposed. At last, be was persuaded to enter a convent of canons regular, and scarcely had he done so when he felt himself oppressed by the weight of his vows. He recovered a little > Mat Vita J. Reuchlin. Francf. 1687.— Mayerhoff, J. Reuchlin und seine Zelt. Berlin, 1830. 2 His name was properly Gerard, like his father's. This Dutch name he translated into Latin (Deaideriue, Well-be loved), and into Greek (..Erasmus). liberty, and we soon find him at the court of the Archbishop of Cambray, and somewhat later at the university of Paris. He there pursued his studies in extreme poverty, but with the most indefatigable industry. As soon as he could procure any money, he employed it in purchasing — first, Greek works, and then clothes. Frequently did the indigent Hollander solicit in vain the generosity of his protectors ; and hence, in after-life, it was his greatest delight to. fur nish the means of support to youthful but poor students. Engaged without intermis sion in the pursuit of truth and of knowledge, he reluctantly assisted in the scholastic dis putes, and shrank from the study of theology, lest he should discover any errors in it, and be in consequence denounced as a heretic. It was at this period that Erasmus became conscious of his powers. In the study of the ancients he acquired a correctness and ele gance of style, that placed him far above the most eminent scholars of Paris. He began to teach ; and thus gained powerful friends. He published some writings, and was re warded by admiration and applause. He knew the public taste, and shaking off the last ties of the schools and of the cloister, he devoted himself entirely to literature, dis playing in aE his writings those shrewd ob servations, that clear, lively, and enlightened wit which at once amuse and instruct. The habit of application, which he con tracted at this period, clung to him all his life : even in his journey s, which were usually on horseback, he was not idle. He used to compose on the road, while riding across the country, and as soon as he reached the inn, committed his thoughts to writing. It was thus he composed his celebrated Praise of Folly, in a journey from Italy to England1 Erasmus early acquired a great reputation among the learned : but the exasperated monks vowed deadly vengeance against him. Courted by princes, he was inexhaustible in finding excuses to escape from their invita tions. He preferred gaining his living with the printer Frobenius by correcting books, to living surrounded with luxury and favours in the splendid courts of Charles V., Henry VIII., or Francis I., or to encircling his head with the cardinal's hat that was offered him.2 Henry the Eighth having ascended the throne in 1509, Lord Mountjoy invited Erasmus, who had already been in England, to come and cultivate literature under the sceptre of their Octavius. In 1510 he lec tured at Cambridge, maintaining with Arch bishop Warham, John Colet, and Sir Thomas More, those friendly relations which con tinued until their death. In 1516 be visited Basle, where he took up his abode in 1521. 1 "Eyxufiiov f&a/pize. were sold in a few months. Seven editions of this work 40 2 A principibus facile mi'hi contlngeret fortuna, nislmihl nimium dulcm esset libertas. Epist. ad Pirck. D'AUBIGNE'S HISTORY OF THE REFORMATION. What was his influence on the Reforma tion? It has been overrated by one party, and depreciated by another. Erasmus never was, and never could have been, a reformer ; but he prepared the way for others. Not only did he diffuse over his age a love of learning, and a spirit of inquiry and exami nation that led others much farther than he went himself; — but still more, under the protection of great prelates and powerful princes, ' he was able to unveil and combat the vices of the Church by the most cutting satires. Erasmus, in fact, attacked the monks and the prevailing abuses in two ways. He first adopted a popular method. This fair little man, whose half-closed blue eyes keenly observed all that was passing, — on whose lips was ever a slight sarcastic smile, — whose manner was timid and embarrassed, — and whom, it seemed, that a puff of wind would blow down, — scattered in every direc tion his elegant and biting sarcasms against the theology and devotion of his age. His natural character arid the events of his life had rendered this disposition habitual. Even in those writings where we should have least expected it, his sarcastic humour suddenly breaks out, and he immolated, as with needle points, those schoolmen and those ignorant monks against whom he had declared war. There are many points of resemblance be tween Voltaire and Erasmus. Preceding authors had already popularized the idea of that element of folly which has crept into all the opinions and actions of human life. Erasmus seized upon it, and introduced Folly in her own person, Moria, daughter of Plutus, born in the Fortunate Isles, fed on drunkenness and impertinence, and queen of a powerful empire. She gives a description of it. She depicts successively all the states in the world that belong to her, but she dwells particularly on the churchmen, who will not acknowledge her benefits, though she loads them with her favours. She over whelms with her gibes and sarcasms that labyrinth of dialectics in which the theolo gians had bewildered themselves, and those extravagant syllogisms, by which they pre tended to support the Church. She unveils the disorders, ignorance, filthy habits, and absurdities of the monks. . " They all belong to me," says she, " those folks whose greatest pleasure is in relating miracles, or listening to marvellous lies, and who make use of them in an especial man ner to beguile the dulness of others, and to fill their own purses (I speak particularly of priests and preachers) ! In the same cate gory are those who enjoy the foolish but sweet persuasion that if they chance to see a piece of wood or a picture representing Polyphemus or Christopher, they will not die that day " " Alas ! what follies," continues Moria ; 41 " I am almost ashamed of them myself 1 Do we not see every country claiming its pecu liar saint? Each trouble has its saint, and every saint his candle. This cures the toothach ; that assists women in childbed ; a third restores what a thief has stolen ; a fourth preserves you in shipwreck; and a fifth protects your flocks. There are some who have many virtues at once, and espe cially the Virgin-mother of God, in whom the people place more confidence than in her Son.1 If in the midst of all these mum meries some wise man should rise and give utterance to these harsh truths : ' You shall not perish miserably if you live like Chris tians ;' — you shall redeem your sins, if to your alms you add repentance, tears, watch- ings, prayer, fasting, and a complete change in your way of life ; — this saint will protect you, if you imitate his conduct ;' — If, I say, some wise man should charitably utter these things in their ears, oh ! of what happiness would he not rob their souls, and into what trouble, what distress would he not plunge them ! The mind of man is so constituted that imposture has more hold upon it than truth.3 If there is one saint more apocry phal than another — a St. George, St. Chris topher, or St. Barbara — you will see him worshipped with greater fervency than St. Peter, St. Paul, or even than Christ him self."4 But Moria does not stop here : she attacks the bishops " who run more after gold than after souls, and who think they have done enough for Jesus Christ, when they take their seats complacently and with theatrical pomp, like Holy Fathers to whom adoration belongs, and utter blessings or anathemas." The daughter of the Fortunate Isles even ventures to attack the Court of Rome and the pope himself, who, passing his time in amusements, leaves the duties of .his minis try to St. Peter and St. Paul. " Can there be any greater enemies to the Church than these unholy pontiffs, who by their silence allow Jesus Christ to be forgotten ; who bind him by their mercenary regulations ; who falsify his doctrine by forced.interpretations ; and crucify him a second time by their scan dalous lives ? " 6 Holbein added the most grotesque illustra tions to the Praise of Folly, in which the pope figured with his triple crown. Perhaps no work has ever been so thoroughly adapted to the wants of the age.. It is impossible to describe the impression this little book pro duced throughout Christendom. Twenty- seven editions appeared in the life-time of l Prfecipue Deipara Virgo, cuivulgus hominum pins prope tribuit quam Filio. Encomium Moris, Opp. iv. 444. 2 Non maleperibis, si bene vixeris. Ibid. _ , 3 Sic sculptus est hominis animus, ut longe magis funs quam veris capiatur. Ibid. 450. 4 Aut ipsum Christum. Ibid. 5 Quasi sint illi hostes ecclesia; perniciores quam impii pontifice3, qui et silentio Christum sinunt abolesccre, ot quiestuariis legibus ailigant, et coactis interpretationi- bus adulterant, et pestilente vita jugulant. Enc. Moria), Ibid. D'AUBIGNE'S HISTORY OF THE REFORMATION. Erasmus : it was translated into every Euro pean language, and contributed more than any other to confirm the anti-sacerdotal tendency of the age. But to the popular attack of sarcasm Erasmus united science and learning. The study of Greek and Latin literature had opened a new prospect to the modern genius that was beginning to awaken from its slum ber in Europe. Erasmus eagerly embraced the idea of the Italians that the sciences ought to be studied in the schools of the ancients, and that, laying aside the inade quate and absurd works that had hitherto been in use, men should study geography in Strabo, medicine in Hippocrates, philosophy in Plato, mythology in Ovid, and natural history in Pliny. But he went a step fur ther, and it was the step of a giant, and must necessarily have led to the discovery of a new world of greater importance to the interests of humanity than that which Colum bus had recently added to the old. Erasmus, following out his principle, required that men should no longer study theology in Scotus and Aquinas, but go and learn it in the writings of the Fathers of the Church, u_ad above all in the New Testament. He showed that they must not even rest contented with the Vulgate, which swarmed with errors ; and he rendered an incalculable service to truth by publishing his critical edition of the Greek text of the New Testament — a text as little known in the West as if it had never existed. This work appeared at Basle in 1516, one year before the Reformation. Erasmus thus did for the New Testament what Reuchlin had done for the Old. Hence forward divines were able to read the Word of God in the original languages, and at a later period to recognise the purity of the Reformed doctrines. " It is my desire," said Erasmus, on pub lishing his New Testament, " to lead back that cold disputer of words, styled theology, to its real fountain. Would to God that this work may bear as much fruit to Christianity as it has cost me toil and application ! " This wish was realized. In vain did the monks cry out, " He presumes to correct the Holy Ghost ! " The New Testament of Erasmus gave out a bright flash of light. His para phrases on the Epistles, and on the Gospels of St. Matthew and St. John ; his editions of Cyprian and Jerome; his translations of Origen, Athanasius, and Chrysostom ; his Principles of True Theology,1 his Preacher? and his Commentaries on various Psalms, contributed powerfully to diffuse a taste for the Word of God and for pure theology. The result of his labours even went beyond his intentions. Reuchlin and Erasmus gave the Bible to the learned; Luther, to the people. Erasmus did still more : by his restoration 1 Ratio Vera; Theologiie. 2 Ecclesiastlcus, seu de Ratlone Conctonandi. 42 of the New Testament, he restored what that revelation taught. " The most exalted aim in the revival of philosophical studies," said he, " will be to obtain a knowledge of the pure and simple Christianity of the Bible." A noble sentiment ! and would to God that the organs of our modern philosophy under stood their mission as well as he did ! "I am firmly resolved," said he again, " to die in the study of the Scriptures ; in them are all my joy and all my peace."1 " The sum of all christian philosophy," said he on an other occasion, " amounts to this : — to place all our hopes in God alone, who by his free grace, without any merit of our own, gives us every thing through Christ Jesus ; to know that we are redeemed by the death of his Son ; to be dead to worldly lusts ; and to walk in conformity with his doctrine and example, not only injuring no man, but doing good to all ; to support our trials patiently in the hope of a future reward ; and finally, to claim no merit to ourselves on account of our virtues, but to give thanks to God for all our strength and for all our works. This is what should be instilled into man, until it becomes a second nature." 2 Then raising his voice against that mass of church-regulations about dress, fasting, feast-days, vows, marriage, and confession, which oppressed the people and enriched the priests, Erasmus exclaims : " In the churches they scarcely ever think of explaining the Gospel.3 The greater part of their sermons must be drawn up to please the commissaries of indulgences. The most holy doctrine of Christ must be suppressed or perverted to their profit. There is no longer any hope of cure, unless Christ himself should turn the hearts of rulers and of pontiffs, and excite them to seek for real piety." The writings of Erasmus followed one an other in rapid succession. He laboured un ceasingly, and his works were read just as they came from his pen. This animation, this native energy, this intellect so rich and so delicate, so witty and so bold, that was poured without any reserve in such copious streams upon his contemporaries, led away and enchanted the immense public who de voured the works of the philosopher of Rot terdam. He soon became the most influen tial man in Christendom, and crowns and pensions were showered upon him from every side. If we cast our eyes on the great revolution that somewhat later renewed the Church, we cannot help acknowledging that Erasmus served as a bridge to many minds. Numbers who would have been alarmed by the evan gelical truths presented in all their strength and purity, allowed themselves to be drawn 1 Ad Servatium. i»J£J&' Slcchtam, 1519. .Hkc »™t »nimls hominum inculcanda, sic, ut velut in naturam transeant. Er. Epp. I. .? Intemplisvlxvncat Evangelium interpretarl Annot. ad Matth. XI. 30. Juoum meum suave. D'AUBIGNE'S HISTORY OF THE REFORMATION. along by him, and ultimately became the most zealous partisans of the Reformation. But the very circumstances that fitted him for the work of preparation, disquaUfied him for its accomplishment. " Erasmus is very capable of exposing error," said Luther, " but he knows not how to teach the truth." The Gospel of Christ was not the fire at which he kindled and sustained his energy, — the centre whence his activity radiated. He was in an eminent degree a man of learning, and only in consequence of that was he a Chris tian. He was too much the slave of vanity to acquire a decided influence over his age. He anxiously calculated the result that each step he took might have upon his reputation. There was nothing he liked better than to talk about himself and his fame. " The pope," wrote he with childish vanity to an intimate friend, at the period when he de clared himself the opponent of Luther, " the pope has sent me a diploma full of kindness and honourable testimonials. His secretary declares that this is an unprecedented honour, and that the pope dictated every word him self." Erasmus and Luther, viewed in connexion with the Reformation, are the representatives of two great ideas, — of two great parties in their age, and indeed in every age. The one is composed of men of timid prudence ; the other, of men of resolution and courage. These two parties were in existence at that epoch, and they are personified in their illus trious chiefs. The men of prudence thought that the study of theological science would gradually bring about a reformation of the Church, and that, too, without violence. The men of action thought that the diffusion of more correct ideas among the learned would not put an end to the superstitions of the people, and that the correction of this or of that abuse, so long as the whole life of the Church was not renewed, would be of little effect. " A disadvantageous peace," Erasmus used to say, " is better than the most righteous war." 1 He thought — and how many Eras muses have lived since, and are living even in our own days ! he thought that a refor mation which might shake the Church would endanger its overthrow ; he witnessed with alarm men's passions aroused into activity ; evil every where mixed up with the little good that might be effected ; existing insti tutions destroyed without the possibility of others being set up in their place ; and the vessel of the Church, leaking on every side, at last swallowed up by the tempest. " Those who bring the sea into new beds," said he, " often attempt a work that de ceives their expectations ; for the terrible element, once let in, does not go where they would wish it, but rushes whithersoever it l Malo hunc, qualisqualis est, rerum humanarum statum quam novos excltari tumultus, said he on another occasion. 1...... i G-V, pleases, and causes great devastation."1 " Be that as it may," added he, " let troubles be every where avoided ! It is better to put up with ungodly princes, than to increase the evil by any change."2 But the courageous portion of his contem poraries were prepared with an answer. History had sufficiently proved that a free exposition of the truth and a decided struggle against falsehood could alone ensure the vic tory. If they had temporized, the artifices of policy and the wiles of the papal court would have extinguished the truth in its first glimmerings. Had not conciliatory measures been employed for ages ? Had not council after council been convoked to reform the Church ? All had been unavailing. Why now pretend to repeat an experiment that had so often failed ? Undoubtedly a thorough reform could not be accomplished without violence. But when has anything good or great ever appeared among men without causing some agitation ? Would not this fear of seeing evil mingled with good, even had it been reason able, have checked the noblest and the holiest undertakings ? We must not fear the evil that may arise out of a great agitation, but we must take courage to resist and to over come it. Is there not besides an essential difference between the commotion originating in human passions, and that which emanates from the Spirit of God ? One shakes society, the other strengthens it. What an error to imagine with Erasmus that in the then existing state of Christendom, — with that mixture of con trary elements, of truth and falsehood, life and death — a violent' collision could be pre vented ! As well strive to close the crater of Vesuvius when the angry elements are already warring in its bosom ! The Middle Ages had seen more than one violent com motion, when the sky was less threatening with storms than at the time of the Refor mation. Men had not then to think of check ing and of repressing, but of directing and guiding. Who can tell what frightful ruin might not have occurred if the Reformation had not burst forth ? Society, the prey of a thousand elements of destruction, destitute of any regenerating or conservative qualities, would have been terribly convulsed. Certainly this would have really been a reform in Erasmus's fashion, and such as many moderate but timid men of our days still dream of, which would have overturned christian society. The people, wanting that knowledge and that piety which the Reformation brought down even to the lowest ranks, abandoned to their violent passions, and to a restless spirit of revolt, would have been let loose, like a l Semel admlssum non ea fertur, qua destinarat admissor. ... Er. Epp. I. 953. ... 2 Praistat ferre principes impios, quam novatis rebus AdMatth. xl. 30. 43 gravius malum accersere. . D'AUBIGNE'S HISTORY OF THE REFORMATION. furious and exasperated wild beast, whose rage no chains can any longer control. The Reformation was no other than an in terposition of the Spirit of God among men, - — a regulating principle that God sent upon earth. It is true that it might stir up the fermenting elements hidden in the heart of man ; but God overruled them. The evan gelical doctrines, the truth of God, pene trating the masses of the people, destroyed what was destined to perish, but every where strengthened what ought to be maintained. The effect of the Reformation on society was to reconstruct ; prejudice alone could say that it was an instrument of destruction. It has been said with reason, with reference to the work of reform, that " the ploughshare might as well think that it injures the earth it breaks up, while it is only fertilizing it." The leading principle of Erasmus was : " Give light, and the darkness will disappear of itself." This principle is good, and Luther acted upon it. But when the enemies of the light endeavour to extinguish it, or to wrest the torch from the hand of him who bears it, must we (for the sake of peace) allow him to do so ? must we not resist the wicked ? Erasmus was deficient in courage. Now, that quality is as indispensable to effect a reformation as to take a town. There was much timidity in his character. From his early youth- he trembled at the name of death. He took the most extraordinary care of his health. He spared no sacrifice to remove from a place in which a contagious malady was reigning. The desire of enjoying the comforts of life exceeded even his vanity, and this was his motive for rejecting more than one brilliant offer. He had, therefore, no claims to the character of a reformer. " If the corrupted morals of the court of Rome call for a prompt and vigorous remedy, that is no business of mine," said he, " nor of those who are like me." 1 He had not that strength of faith which ani mated Luther. While the latter was ever prepared to lay down his life for the truth, Erasmus candidly observed, " Let others aspire to martyrdom : as for me, I do not think myself worthy of such an honour. 2 I fear that if any disturbance were to arise, I should imitate Peter in his fall." By his conversation and by his writings Erasmus had prepared the way for the Refor mation more than any other man ; and yet he trembled when he saw the approach of that very tempest whichhe himself had raised. He would have given anything to restore the calm of former times, even with all its dense vapours. But it was too late : the dike was broken. It was no longer in man's power to arrest the flood that was at once to cleanse and fertilize the world. Erasmus 1 Ingens allqnod et prsesens remedium, certe meum non est. Er. Epp. i. 653. 2 Ego me non arbitror hoc honors dignuro. Ibid. was powerful as God's instrument ; when he ceased to be that, he was nothing. Ultimately Erasmus knew not what party to adopt. None pleased him, and he feared all. " It is dangerous to speak, ""said he, " and it is dangerous to be silent.'' In every great religious movement there will be found these wavering characters, — respectable on many accounts, but injurious to the truth, and who, from their unwillingness to dis please any, offend all. What would have become of the Truth, had not God raised up more courageous champions than Erasmus? Listen to the advice he gives Viglius Zuichem, who was afterwards president of the supreme court at Brussels, as to the manner in which he should behave towards the sectarians — for thus he had already begun to denominate the Re formers : " My friendship for you leads me to desire that you will keep aloof from the contagion of the sects, and that you will give them no opportunity of saying, Zuichem is become one of us. If you approve of their teaching, you should at least dissemble, and, above all, avoid discussions with them. A lawyer should finesse with these people, as the dying man did with the devil, who asked him, What do you believe? The poor man, fearful of being caught in some heresy, if he should make a confession of his faith, replied, What the Church believes. The devil de manded, And what does the Church believe ? — What I believe. — Once more he was ques tioned, What do you believe ? — and the ex piring man answered once more, What the Church believes !" l Thus Duke George of Saxony, Luther's mortal enemy, having re ceived an equivocal answer to a question he had put to Erasmus, said to him, " My dear Erasmus, wash me the fur without wetting it ! " Secundus Curio, in one of his works, describes two heavens — the papal and the christian. He found Erasmus in neither, but discovered him revolving between both in never-ending orbits. Such was Erasmus. He needed that in ward emancipation which alone gives perfect liberty. How different would he have been had he abandoned self, and sacrificed all for truth! But after having endeavoured to effect certain reforms with the approbation of the heads of the Church ; after having de serted the Reformation for Rome, when he saw that these two things could not go band in hand ; — he lost ground with all parties. On the one side, his recantations could not repress the anger of the fanatical partisans of the papacy : they felt all the evil he had done them, and would not pardon him. Furious monks loaded him with abuse from the pulpits : they called him a second Lucian — a fox that had laid waste the Lord's vine yard. A doctor of Constance had hung the portrait of Erasmus in his study, that he 4* l Erasm. Epp. 274. Append. Edit. Lugd. Bat. D'AUBIGNE'S HISTORY OP THE REFORMATION. might be able at any moment to spit in his face.— But, on the other hand, Erasmus, deserting the standard of the Gospel, lost the affection and esteem of the noblest men of the age in which he lived, and was forced to renounce, there can be little doubt, those heavenly consolations which God sheds in the heart of those who act as good soldiers of Christ. This at least seems to he indi cated by those bitter tears, those painful vigils, that broken sleep, that tasteless food, that loathing of the study of the Muses, (formerly his only consolation) , those sad dened features, that pale face, those sorrow ful and downcast eyes, that hatred of exist- ence_ which he calls " a cruel life," and those longings after death, which he describes to his friends. J Unhappy Erasmus ! The enemies of Erasmus went, in my opinion, a little beyond the truth, when they exclaimed on Luther's appearance : ' ' Erasmus laid the egg, and Luther hatched it."2 CHAPTER IX. The Nobility-Different Motives— Hiitten— Literary League Liters! Obseurorum Virorum — Their Effect — Luther's Opinion— Hiitten at Brussels— His Letters— Sickingen— war— His Death— Cronberg— Hans Sachs— General Fer ment. The same symptoms of regeneration that we have seen among princes, bishops, and learned men, were also found among men of the world, — among nobles, knights, and warriors. The German nobility played an important part in the Reformation. Several of the most illustrious sons of Germany formedaclose alliance with the men of letters, and inflamed by an ardent, frequently by an excessive zeal, they strove to deliver their country from the Roman yoke. Various causes contributed to raise up friends to the Reformation among the ranks of the nobles. Some having frequented the univer sities, had there received into their bosoms the fire with which the learned were ani mated. Others, brought up in generous sentiments, had hearts predisposed to receive the glorious lessons of the Gospel. Many discovered in the Reformation a certain chi valrous character that fascinated them and carried them along with it. And others, we must freely acknowledge, were offended with the clergy, who, in the reign of Maximilian, l Vigiliss molestie, somnus irrequietns, cibns insipidus omnis, ipsum quojue musarum studium ipsa frontls mex mojstitia, vultus pallor, oculorum subtristis deiectio. Erasm. Epp. 1. 1380. 2 The works pf Erasmus were published by John Le Clerc, at Liege, 1703, in ten vols, folio. For his life, consult Bu- ngny, Vie d'Erasme, Pans, 1757 1 A. Milller, Leben des Erasmus, Hamt. 182a ; and. the Biography inserted by Le Clerc in his Bibliotheque Choisie. See also the beautiful and impartial essay of M. Nisard (Revue des Deux Mondes), who seems to me, however, to he mistaken in his estimate of Erasmus and Luther. I 45 had powerfully contributed to deprive them of their ancient independence, and bring them under subjection to their princes. They were full of enthusiasm, and looked upon the Reformation as the prelude to a great poli tical renovation ; they saw in imagination the empire emerging with new splendour from this crisis, and hailed a better state, brilliant with the purest glory, that was on the eve of being established in the world, not less by the swords of the knights than by the Word of God.1 Ulrich of Hiitten, who has been called the German Demosthenes, on account of his philippics against the Papacy, forms, as it were, the link that unites the knights with the men of letters. He distinguished him self by his writings not less than by his sword. Descended from an ancient Fran- conian family, he was sent at the age of eleven years to the convent of Foulda, in which he was to become a monk. But Ulrich, who felt no inclination for this pro fession, ran away from the convent at sixteen, and repaired to the university of Cologne, where he devoted himself to the study of languages and poetry. Somewhat later he led a wandering life, and was present, as a common soldier, at the siege of Padua in 1513, beheld Rome and all her scandalous abuses, and there sharpened those arrows which he afterwards discharged against her. On his return to Germany, Hiitten com posed a treatise against Rome, entitled " The Roman Trinity." In this work he unveils the disorders of the papal court, and points out the necessity of putting an end to her tyranny by force. " There are three things," says a traveller named Vadiscus, who figures in the treatise, — " there are three things that are usually brought away from Rome : a bad conscience, a disordered stomach, and an empty purse. There are three things in which Rome does not believe : the immorta lity of the soul, the resurrection of the dead, and hell. There are three things in which Rome traffics : the grace of Christ, ecclesias tical dignities, and women." The publica tion of this work compelled Hiitten to leave the court of the Archbishop of Mentz, where he had composed it. Reuchlin's affair with the Dominicans was the signal that brought together all the men of letters, magistrates, and nobles, who were opposed to the monks. The defeat of the inquisitors, who, it was said, had escaped a definite and absolute condemnation only by means of bribery andintrigue, had emboldened their adversaries. Councillors of the empire : patricians of the most considerable cities, — Pickheimer of Nuremberg, Peutinger of Augs burg, and Stuss of Cologne ; distinguished preachers, suchasCapito and CEcolampadius ; 1 Animus lngens et ferox, viribus pollens.— Nam siconsilla et conatus Hiitten! non defecissent, quasi nervl copiarum atque potential jam mutatio omnium rerum exatitisset, et quasi orbis status public! fuisset conversus. Camer. Vita Melancthonis. D'AUBIGNE'S HISTORY OF THE REFORMATION. doctors of medicine and historians ; all the literary men, orators, and poets, at whose head shone Ulrich of Hiitten, composed that army of Reuchlinists, of which a list was even published.1 The most remarkable produc tion of this learned league was the famous popular satire entitled — The Letters of Ob scure Men. The principal authors of this work were Hiitten, and Crotus Robianus, one of his college friends ; but it is hard to say which of them first conceived the idea, even if it did not originate with the learned printer Angst, and if Hiitten took any share in the first part of the work. Several human ists, assembled in the fortress of Ebemburg, appear to have contributed to the second. It is a bold sketch, a caricature often too rudely coloured, but full of truth and strength, of striking resemblance, and in characters of fire. Its effect was prodigious. The monks, the adversaries of Reuchlin, the supposed writers of these letters, discuss the affairs of the day and theological matters after their own fashion and in barbarous latinity. They addressed the silliest and most useless ques tions to their correspondent Ortuin Gratius, professor at Cologne, and a friend of Pfeffer- korn. With the most artless simplicity they betray their gross ignorance, incredulity, and superstition ; their low and vulgar spirit ; the coarse gluttony by which they make a god of their bellies ; and at the same time their pride, and fanatical, persecuting zeal. They relate many of their droll adventures, of their excesses and profligacy, with vari ous scandalous incidents in the lives of Hochstraten, Pfefferkorn, and other chiefs of their party. The tone of these letters — at one time hypocritical, at another quite child ish — gives them a very comic effect : and yet the whole is so natural, that the Eng lish Dominicans and Franciscans received the work with the greatest approbation, and thought it really composed on the principles and in the defence of their orders. A certain prior of Brabant, in his credulous simplicity, even purchased a great number of copies, and sent them as presents to the most dis tinguished of the Dominicans. The monks, more and more exasperated, applied to the pope for a severe bull against all who should dare to read these letters ; but Leo X. would not grant their request. They were forced to bear with the general ridicule, and to smother their anger. No work ever inflicted a more terrible blow on these supporters of the Papacy. But it was not by satire and by jests that the Gospel was to triumph. Had men continued walking in this path ; had the Reformation had recourse to the jeering spirit of the world, instead of attacking error with the arms of God, its cause would have been lost. Luther boldly condemned these satires. One of his friends having sent him The Tenour of Pasquin's Supplication, 1 Eattreitue Reucnlintatarut*, at the head of the collection of letters addressed to Reuchlin on this subject. he replied, " The nonsense you have for warded me seems to have been composed by an ill-regulated mind. I have communicated it to a circle of friends, and all have come to the same conclusion."1 And speaking of the same work, he writes to another corres pondent : " This Supplication appears to me to have been written by the author of the Letters of Obscure Men. I approve of his design, but not of his work, since he cannot refrain from insults and abuse."2 This judg ment is severe, but it shows Luther's dispo sition, and how superior he was to his con temporaries. We must add, however, that he did not always follow such wise maxims. Ulrich having been compelled to resign the protection of the Archbishop of Mentz, sought that of Charles V., who was then at variance with the pope. He accordingly re paired to Brussels, where the emperor was holding his court. But far from obtaining anything, he learnt that the pope had called upon Charles to send him bound hand and foot to Rome. The inquisitor Hochstraten, Reuchlin's persecutor, was one of those whom Leo X. had charged to bring him to trial. Ulrich quitted Brabant in indignation at such a request having been made to the emperor. He had scarcely left Brussels, when he met Hochstraten on the highroad. The terrified inquisitor fell on his knees, and commended his soul to God and the saints. " No !" said the knight, " I will not soil my weapon with thy blood!" He gave him a few strokes with the flat of his sword, and allowed him to proceed in peace. Hiitten took refuge in the castle of Ebem burg, where Francis of Sickingen offered an asylum to all who were persecuted by the ultra-montanists. It was here that his burn ing zeal for the emancipation of his country dictated those remarkable letters which he addressed to Charles V., to the Elector Fre derick of Saxony, to Albert, archbishop of Mentz, and to the princes and nobles, — let ters that place him in the foremost ranks of authorship. Here, too, he composed all those works intended to be read and understood by the people, and which inspired all the Ger man states with horror of Rome, and with the love of liberty. Ardently devoted to the cause of the Reformation, his design was to lead the nobles to take up arms in favour of the Gospel, and to fall with the sword upon that Rome which Luther aimed at destroy ing solely by the Word of God, and by the in vincible power of the truth. Yet amidst all this warlike enthusiasm, we are charmed at finding in Hiitten mild and delicate sentiments. On the death of his parents, he made over to his brothers all the family property, although he was the eldest son, and even begged them not to write to him or send him any money, lest, notwith standing their innocence, they should be 46 1 Luth. Epp. 1. 37. 2 Ibid. 38. D'AUBIGNE'S HISTORY OF THE REFORMATION. exposed to suffer by the malice of his ene mies, and fall with him into the pit. If .Truth cannot acknowledge Hiitten as one of her children, for her walk is ever with holiness of life and charity of heart, she will at least accord him honourable mention as one of the most formidable antagonists of error.1 The same may be said of Francis of Sic- kingen, bis illustrious friend and protector. This noble knight, whom many of his con temporaries judged worthy of the imperial crown, shines in the first rank among those warriors who were the adversaries of Rome. Although delighting in the uproar of battle, he was filled with an ardent love of learning and with veneration for its professors. When at the head of an army that menaced Wur temberg, he gave orders that, in case Stutt gard should be taken by assault, the house and property of that great scholar, John Reuchlin, should be spared: Sickingen after wards invited him to his camp, and embrac ing him, offered to support him in his quarrel with the monks of Cologne. For a long time chivalry had prided itself on despising literature. The epoch whose history we are retracing presents to us a new spectacle. Under the weighty cuirasses of the Hiittens and Siekingens we perceive that intellectual movement which was beginning to make itself felt in every quarter. The first fruits that the Reformation gave to the world were warriors that were the friends of the peace ful arts. Hiitten, who on his return from Brussels had taken refuge in the castle of Sickingen, invited the worthy knight to study the evan gelical doctrines, and explained to him the foundations on which they rest. "And is there any man," asked he in astonishment, " who dares attempt to overthrow such an edifice ?...Who could do it?..." Many individuals, who were afterwards celebrated as reformers, found an asylum in his castle ; among others, Martin Bucer, Aquila, Schwebel, and CEcolampadius, so that Hiitten with justice used to call Ebern- burg " the resting-place of the righteous." It was the duty of CEcolampadius to preach daily in the castle. The warriors who were there assembled at last grew weary of hearing so much said about the meek virtues of Chris tianity: the sermons appeared to them too long, however brief CEcolampadius endea voured to be. They repaired, it is true, almost every day to the church, but it was for little else than to hear the benediction and to repeat a short prayer, so that CEco lampadius used to exclaim: "Alas! the Word of God is sown here upon stony ground ! " Erelong Sickingen, wishing to serve the cause of truth after his own fashion, declared war against the Archbishop of Treves, " in l Hiitten's Works were published at Berlin by Munchen, 1822.(825. in 5 vols. 8V0. 47 order," as he said, "to open a door for the Gospel." In vain did Luther, who had al ready appeared, strive to" dissuade him from it : he attacked Treves with 5000 horse and 1000 foot. The courageous archbishop, with the aid of the Elector Palatine and the Land grave of Hesse, compelled him to retire. In the following spring the allied princes at tacked him in his castle of Landstein. After a bloody assault, Sickingen was obliged to surrender : he had been mortally wounded. The three princes entered the fortress, and after searching through it, discovered tho stout-hearted knight in a vault, lying on his bed of death. He stretched out his hand to the Elector Palatine, without seeming to notice the princes who accompanied him ; but these overwhelmed him with questions and reproaches : " Leave me in repose," said he, " for I must now prepare to answer a more powerful lord than you! " When Luther heard of his death, he exclaimed : " The Lord is righteous and greatly to be praised ! It is not by the sword that he will have his Gospel propagated." Such was the melancholy end of a warrior, who, as elector or emperor, might perhaps have raised Germany to a high degree of glory ; but who, confined within a narrow circle, wasted the great powers with which he had been endowed. But it was not in the tumultuous bosoms of these warriors that the divine truth, coming down from heaven, was to take up her abode. It was not by their arms that she was to prevail ; and God, by bringing to nought Sickingen 's mad pro jects, confirmed anew the testimony of St. Paul : The weapons of our warfare are not carnal, but mighty through God (2 Cor. x. 4). Another knight, Harmut of Cronberg, a friend of Hiitten and Sickingen, appears to have had more wisdom and a deeper know ledge of the truth. He wrote with great modesty to Leo X., exhorting him to restore his temporal power to its rightful owner, namely, the emperor. Addressing his sub jects as a father, he endeavoured to explain to them the doctrines of the Gospel, and exhorted them to faith, obedience, and trust in Jesus Christ, " who is the Lord of all," added he. He resigned into the Emperor's hand a pension of 200 ducats, " because he would no longer serve one who lent his ear to the enemies of the truth." We find an expression of his recorded that seems to place him far above Hiitten and Sickingen : " Our heavenly doctor, the Holy Ghost, can, when ever he pleases, teach in one hour more of the faith that is in Christ Jesus, than^ could be learnt at the university of Paris in ten years." Those who look for the friends of the Reformation only on the steps of thrones,1 or in cathedrals and in colleges, and who maintain that it had no friends among the 1 See Chateaubriand's Etudes Historiqucs, D'AUBIGNE'S HISTORY OF THE REFORMATION. people, are greatly mistaken. God, who was preparing the hearts of the wise and the powerful, was also preparing in the homes of the people many simple and humble-minded men, who were one day to become the ministers of his Word. The history of the period shows the ferment then agitating the lower orders. The tendency of popular lite rature before the Reformation was in direct opposition to the prevailing spirit of the Church. In the Eulenspiegel, a celebrated popular poem of the times, there is a per petual current of ridicule against brutal and gluttonous priests, who were fond of pretty housekeepers, fine horses, and a well-filled larder. In the Reynard Reineke, the priests' houses with their families of little children are a prominent feature ; another popular writer thunders with all his might against those ministers of Christ who ride spirited horses, but who will not fight against the infidels ; and John Rosenblut, in one of his carnival plays, introduces the Grand Turk in person to deliver a seasonable address to the states of Christendom. It was in reality in the bosoms of the people that the revolution so soon to break forth was violently fermenting. Not only do we see youths issuing from their ranks and seizing upon the highest stations in the Church ; but there are those, who remained all their lives engaged in the humblest occu pations, and yet powerfully contributing to the great revival of Christendom. We pro ceed to recall a few features in the life of one of these individuals. Hans Sachs, son of a tailor of Nuremberg, was born on the 5th November 1494. He was named Hans (John) after his father, and had made some little progress in learning, when a severe malady compelled him to re nounce his studies and take up the business of a shoemaker. Young Hans profited by the liberty which this humble trade allowed to his mind, to penetrate into that higher world in which his soul delighted. The songs that had ceased to be heard in the castles of the nobles, sought and found an asylum among the inhabitants of the merry towns of Germany. A singing school was held in the church of Nuremberg. These exercises, in which Hans used to join, opened his heart to religious impressions, and helped to awaken in him a taste for poetry and music. But the young man's genius could not long remain confined within the walls of his work shop. He wished to see with his own eyes that world of which he had read so much in books, — of which his comrades related so many stories, — and which his imagination peopled with wonders. In 1511, withasmall bundle of necessaries, he sets out and directs his steps towards the south. Erelong the youthful traveller, who had met with jovial companions, students roaming from town to town, and with many dangerous temptations, feels a terrible struggle beginning within him. 48 The lusts of life and his holy resolutions are contending for the mastery. Trembling for the result, he takes flight and hides himself in the small town of Wels in Austria (1513), where he lived in retirement, devoting him self to the cultivation of the fine arts. The Emperor Maximilian chanced to pass through this town with a brilliant retinue, and the young poet allowed himself to be carried away by the splendour of the court. The prince placed him in his hunting-train ; and in the noisy halls of the palace of Inspruck, Hans again forgot all his resolutions. But his conscience once more cried aloud. Im mediately the young huntsman lays aside his brilliant livery, quits the court, and re pairs to Schwatz, and afterwards to Munich. It was in the latter town that, at the age of twenty years (1514), he composed his first hymn " in honour of God" to a remarkable air. He was covered with applause. During his travels he had had many opportunities of observing the numerous and melancholy proofs of the abuses under which religion was buried. On his return to Nuremberg, Hans settled, married, and became a father. When the Reformation broke out, he lent an attentive ear. He clung to the Holy Scriptures, which were already dear to him as a poet, but in which he no longer sought merely for images and songs, hut for the light of truth. To this truth erelong he consecrated his lyre, and from an humble workshop, near the gates of the imperial city of Nuremberg, issued tones that re-echoed throughout Ger many, preparing men's minds for a new era, and every where endearing to the people the mighty revolution that was going forward. The spiritual songs of Hans Sachs and his Bible in verse were a powerful help to this great work. It would, perhaps, be hard to decide who did the most for it — the Prince- elector of Saxony, administrator of the em pire, or the Nuremberg shoemaker ! Thus, then, was there in eveiy class sonlething that announced the Reformation. Warnings appeared on every side, and events were hastening on which threatened to de stroy the work of ages of darkness, and to "make all things new." The hierarchical form, which the efforts of many centuries had stamped upon the world, was shaken, and its fall was nigh. The light that had been just discovered spread a multitude of new ideas through every country with in conceivable rapidity. In every grade of society a new life was in motion. " What an age !'_' exclaimed Hiitten ; " studies flou rish — minds are awakening : itis a joymerely to be alive 1" Minds that had lain dormant for so many generations, seemed desirous of redeeming by their activity the time they had lost. To leave them unemployed, and without food., or to present them only with such as had long supported their languishing D'AUBIGNE'S HISTORY OF THE REFORMATION. existence, would have betrayed ignorance of man's nature, Already did the human mind clearly perceive what was and what should be, and surveyed with a daring glance the immense gulf which separated these two worlds. Great princes filled the thrones ; the time-worn colossus of Rome was tottering under its own weight ; the ancient spirit of chivalry was dead, and its place supplied by a new spirit which breathed at once from the sanctuaries of learning and from the homes of the lowly. The printed Word had taken wings that carried it, as the wind wafts the light seed, even to the most distant places. The discovery of the two Indies extended the boundaries of the world. Everything announced a great revolution. But whence is to proceed the blow that shall throw down the ancient building, and raise a new one from its ruins ? No one knew. Who possessed greater wisdom than Frederick, greater learning than Reuchlin, greater talents than Erasmus, more wit and energy than Hiitten, more valour than Sic kingen, or was more virtuous than Cronberg ? And yet it was not from Frederick, or Reuchlin, or Erasmus, or Hiitten, or Sickin gen, or Cronberg! Learned men, princes, warriors, nay the Church itself — all had undermined some of the foundations ; but there they had stopped. In no direction could be seen the powerful hand that was to be the instrument of God. And yet all men had a presentiment that it would soon appear. Some pretended to have discovered in the stars unerring indi cations of its approach. Some, as they looked upon the miserable state of religion, foretold the near coming of Antichrist. Others, on the contrary predicted a reformation to be close at hand. The world waited in expec tation. Luther appeared. BOOK II. THE YOUTH, CONVERSION, AND EARLY LABOURS OP LUTHER. 1483-1517. CHAPTER I. Luther's Descent— His Parents— His Birth— His Poverty- Paternal Home— Severity— First Knowledge — School of Magdeburg— Hardships — Eisenach — The Shunamite — House of Cotta— ArtB— Recollections of these Times— His Studies— Trebonius— The University. All was ready. God who prepares his work through ages, accomplishes it by the weakest instruments, when His time is come. To effect great results by the smallest means — such is the law of God. This_ law, which prevails every where in nature, is found also in history. God selected the reformers of the Church from the same class whence he had taken the apostles. He chose them from among that lower rank, which, although not the meanest, does not reach the level of the middle classes. Everything was thus in tended to manifest to the world that the work was not of man but of God. The re former Zwingle emerged from an Alpine shepherd's hut ; Melancthon, the theologian of the Reformation, from an armourer's shop ; and Luther from the cottage of a poor miner. The first period in man's life — that in which he is formed and moulded under the hand of God — is always important. It is eminently so in the career of Luther. The whole of the Reformation is included in it. The different phases of this work succeeded one another in the soul of him who was to be the instrument for effecting it, before they were accomplished in the world. The know ledge of the change that took place in Luther's heart can alone furnish the key to the re formation of the Church. It is only by studying the particulars that we can under stand the general work. Those who neglect the former will be ignorant of the latter except in its outward appearance. They may acquire a knowledge of certain events and certain results, but they will never com prehend the intrinsic nature of that revival, because the principle of life, that was its very soul, remains unknown to them. Let us therefore study the Reformation in Luther himself, before we proceed to the events that changed the face of Christendom. In the village of Mora, near the Thurin- gian forests, and not far from the spot where Boniface, the apostle of Germany, began to proclaim the Gospel, had dwelt, doubtless for many centuries, an ancient and numerous family of the name of Luther.1 As was cus tomary with the Thuringian peasants, the eldest son always inherited the dwelling and the paternal fields, while the other children departed elsewhere in quest of a livelihood. One of these, by name John Luther, married Margaret Lindemann, the daughter of an inhabitant of Neustadt, in the see of Wurz burg. The married pair quitted the plains 40 l Vetus familia est et late propagata mediocrium homl- im. Melancth. Vita Luth. D'AUBIGNE'S HISTORY OF THE REFORMATION. of Eisenach, and went to settle in the little town of Eisleben in Saxony, to earn their bread by the sweat of their brows. Seckendorf relates, on the testimony of Rebhan, superintendent at Eisenach in ICO 1, that Luther's mother, thinking her time still distant, had gone to the fair of Eisleben, and that contrary to her expectation she there gave birth to a son. Notwithstanding the credit that is due to Seckendorf, this account does not appear to be correct : in fact, none of the oldest of Luther's historians mention it ; and besides, it is about twenty-four leagues from Mora to Eisleben, and in the condition of Luther's mother at that time, people do not readily make up their minds to travel such a distance to see a fair ; and, lastly, the evidence of Luther himself ap pears in direct opposition to this assertion. 1 John Luther was an upright man, diligent in business, frank, and carrying the firmness of his character even to obstinacy. With a more cultivated mind than that of most men of his class, he used to read much. Books were then rare ; but John omitted no oppor tunity of procuring them. They formed his relaxation in the intervals of repose, snatched from his severe and constant labours. Mar garet possessed all the virtues that can adorn a good and pious woman. Her modesty, her fear of God, and her prayerful spirit, were particularly remarked. She was looked upon by the matrons of the neighbourhood as a model whom they should strive to imitate. 2 It is not precisely known how long the married pair had been living at Eisleben, when, on the 10th November, one hour be fore midnight, Margaret gave birth to a son. Melancthon often questioned his friend's mother as to the period of his birth. " I well remember the day and the hour," re plied she, " but I am not certain about the year." But Luther's brother James, an honest and upright man, has recorded, that in the opinion of the whole family the future reformer was born on St. Martin's eve, 10th November 1483, 3 And Luther himself wrote on a Hebrew Psalter which is still in exist ence : " I was born in the year 1483." 4 The first thought of his pious parents was to dedi cate to God by the holy rite of baptism the child that he had given them. On the mor row, which happened to be Tuesday, the father with gratitude and joy carried his son to St. Peter's church, and there he received the seal of his consecration to the Lord. They called him Martin in commemoration of the day. The child was not six months old, when his parents quitted Eisleben to repair to Mansfeldt, which is only five leagues distant. 1 Ego natus sum in Eisleben, baptlsatusque apud Sanc tum- i'etrura Ibidem. Parentes mel de prope Isenaco illuc migrarunt. Luth. Epp. 1. 390. 2 Intuebanturque in earn ceteris honestre mulieres, ut In exemplar virtutum. Melancth. Vita Lutheri. 3 Ibid. * Anno 1483, natus ego. Psalter in the Dantzic Library. 50 The mines of that neighbourhood ware then very celebrated. John Luther, who was a hard-working man, feeling that perhaps he would be called upon to bring up a numerous family, hoped to gain a better livelihood for himself and his children in that town. It was here that the understanding and strength of young Luther received their first develop ment ; here his activity began to display it self, and here his character was declared in his words and in bis actions. The plains of Mansfeldt, the banks of the Wipper, were the theatre of his first sports with the chil dren of the neighbourhood. The first period of their abode at Mans feldt was full of difficulty to the worthy John and his wife. At first they lived in great poverty. " My parents," said the Reformer, " were very poor. My father was a poor wood-cutter, and my mother has often carried wood upon ber back, that she might procure the means of bringing up her children. They endured the severest labour for our sakes." The example of the parents whom he revered, the habits they inspired in him, early accus tomed Luther to labour and frugality. How many times, doubtless, he accompanied his mother to the wood, there to gather up his little faggot ! There are promises of blessing on the la bour of the righteous, and John Luther ex perienced their realization. Having attained somewhat easier circumstances, he esta blished two smelting furnaces at Mansfeldt. Beside these furnaces little Martin grew in strength, and with the produce of this labour his father afterwards provided for his studies. " It was from a miner's family," says the good Mathesius, " that the spiritual founder of Christendom was to go forth : an image of what God would do in purifying the sons of Levi through him, and refining them like gold in his furnaces." Respected by all for his integrity, for his spotless life, and good sense, John Luther was made councillor of Mansfeldt, capital of the earldom of that name. _ Excessive misery might have crushed the child's spirit : the competence of his pa ternal home expanded his heart and elevated his character. John took advantage of his new position to court the society which he preferred. He had a great esteem for learned men, and often invited to his table the clergy and schoolmasters of the place. His house of fered a picture of those social meetings of his fellow-citizens, which did honour to Germany at the commencement of the sixteenth cen tury. It was a mirror in which were reflected the numerous images that followed one another on the agitated scene of the times. The child profited by them. No doubt the sight of these men, to whom so much respect was shown in bis father's house, excited more than once in little Martin's heart the nLSSS,bitS,' p.e3dlCSer ee,s"iche Schmelzcr. Mathesius, D'AUBIGNE'S HISTORY OF THE REFORMATION. ambitious desire of becoming himself one day a schoolmaster or a learned man. As soon as he was old enough to receive instruction, his parents endeavoured to im part to him the knowledge of .God, to train him up in His fear, and to mould him to chris tian virtues. They exerted all their care in this earliest domestic education.1 The father would often kneel at the child's bedside, and fervently pray aloud, begging the Lord that his son might remember His name and one day contribute to the propagation of the truth.2 The parent's prayer was most gra ciously listened to. And yet his tender soli citude was not confined to this. His father, anxious to see him acquire the elements of that learning for which he him self had so much esteem, invoked God's blessing upon him, and sent him to school. Martin was still very young. His father, or Nicholas Emler, a young man of Mans feldt, often carried him in their arms to the house of George Emilius, and afterwards re turned to fetch him home. Emler in after- years married one of Luther's sisters. His parents' piety, their activity and aus tere virtue, gave the boy a happy impulse, and formed in him an attentive and serious disposition. The system of education which then prevailed made use of chastisement and fear as the principal incentives to study. Margaret, although sometimes approving the too great severity of her husband, fre quently opened her maternal arms to her son to console him in his tears. Yet even she herself overstept the limits of that wise precept : He that loveth his son, chasteneth him betimes. Martin's impetuous character gave frequent occasion for punishment and repri mand. " My parents," said Luther in after life, " treated me harshly, so that I became very timid. My mother one day chastised me so severely about a. nut, that the blood came. They seriously thought that they were doing right ; but they could not distin guish character, which however is very ne cessary in order to know when, or where, or how chastisement should be inflicted. It is necessary to punish ; but the apple should be placed beside the rod." 3 At school the poor child met with treat ment no less severe. His master flogged him fifteen times successively in one morn ing. " We must," said Luther, when rela ting this circumstance — " we must whip children, but we must at the same time love them." With such an education Luther learnt early to despise the charms of a merely sensual life. " What is to become great, should begin small," justly observes one of his oldest biographers ; " and if children are brought up too delicately and with too much l Ad agnitionem et timorem Dei. . . .domestica instltutione diligenter assuefecerunt. Melancth. Vita Luth. 2 Conrad Schlusselburg, Orat. de Vita et Morte Lutheri. 3 Sed non poterant discernere ingenia, secundum qua; essent temperandsi correctiones. L. Opp. W. xxii. p. 178o. kindness from their youth, they are injured for life." l Martin learnt something at school. He was taught the heads of his Catechism, the Ten Commandments, the Apostles' Creed, the Lord's Prayer, some hymns, some forms of prayer, and a Latin grammar written in the fourth century by Donatus, who was St. Jerome's master, and which, improved in the eleventh century by one Remigius, a French monk, was long held in great repute in every school. He further studied the calendar of Cisio Janus, a very singular work, com posed in the tenth or eleventh century : in fine, he learnt all that could be taught in the Latin school of Mansfeldt. But the child's thoughts do not appear to have been there directed to God. The only religious sentiment that could then be dis covered in him was fear. Every time he heard Jesus Christ spoken of, he turned pale with affright ; for the Saviour had only been represented to him as an offended judge. This servile fear — so alien to true religion — may perhaps have prepared him for the glad tidings of the Gospel, and for that joy which he afterwards felt, when he learnt to know Him who is meek and lowly in heart. John Luther wished to make his son a scholar. The day that was every where be ginning to dawn, had penetrated even into the house of the Mansfeldt miner, and there awakened ambitious thoughts. The remark able disposition, the persevering application of his son, made John conceive the liveliest expectations. Accordingly, in 1497, when Martin had attained the age of fourteen years, his father resolved to part with him, and send him to the Franciscan school at Magdeburg. His mother was forced to con sent, and Martin prepared to quit the pater nal roof. Magdeburg was like a new world to Mar tin. In the midst of numerous privations, for he scarcely had enough to five upon, he inquired — he listened. Andrew Proles, pro vincial of the Augustine order, was at that time warmly advocating the necessity of re forming religion and the Church. It was not he, however, who deposited in the young man's heart the first germ of the ideas that were afterwards developed there. This was a rude apprenticeship for Luther. Thrown upon the world at the age of four teen, without friends or protectors, he trem bled in the presence of his masters, and in the hours of recreation he painfully begged his bread in company with children poorer than himself. " I used to beg with my com panions for a little food," said he, " that we might have the means of providing for our wants. One day, at the time the Church celebrates the festival of Christ's nativity, we were wandering together through the neighbouring villages, going from house to I Was gross sol werden, muss kiein angehen. MatheBius, Hist. p. 3. 51 D'AUBIGNE'S HISTORY OF THE REFORMATION. house, and singing in four parts the usual carols on the infant Jesus,born at Bethlehem. We stopped before a peasant's house that stood by itself at the extremity of the village. The farmer, hearing us sing our Christmas hymns, came out with some victuals which he intended to give us, and called out in a high voice and with a harsh tone, Boys, where are you ? Frightened at these words, we ran off as fast as our legs would carry us. We had no reason to be alarmed, for the far mer offered us assistance with great kind ness; but our hearts, no doubt, were ren dered timorous by the menaces and tyranny with which the teachers were then accus tomed to rule over their pupils, so that a sudden panic had seized us. At last, how ever, as the farmer continued calling after us, we stopped, forgot our fears, ran back to him, and received from his hands the food intended for us. It is thus," adds Luther, " that we are accustomed to tremble and flee, when our conscience is guilty and alarmed. In such a case we are afraid even of the assistance that is offered us, and of those who are our friends, and who would willingly do us every good."1 A year had scarcely passed away, when John and Margaret, hearing what difficulty their son found in supporting himself at Magdeburg, sent him to Eisenach, where there was a celebrated school, and in which town they had many relatives.2 They had other children ; and although their means had increased, they could not maintain their son in a place where he was unknown. The furnaces and the industry of John Luther did little more than provide for the support of his family. He hoped that when Martin arrived at Eisenach, he would more easily find the means of subsistence ; but he was not more fortunate in this town. His rela tions who dwelt there took no care about him, or perhaps, being very poor themselves, they could not give him any assistance. When the young scholar was pinched by hunger, he was compelled, as at Magdeburg, to join with his schoolfellows in singing from door to dpor to obtain a morsel of bread. This custom of Luther's days is still pre served in many German cities : sometimes the voices of the youths form an harmonious concert. Often, instead of food, the poor and modest Martin received nothing but harsh words. Then, overwhelmed with sorrow, he shed many tears in secret, and thought with anxiety of the future. One day, in particular, he had already been repulsed from three houses, and was prepar ing to return fasting to his lodgings, when, having reached the square of St. George, he stopped motionless, plunged in melancholy reflections, before tbe house of a worthy citi zen. Must he for want of bread renounce 1 Lutheri Opera Walch.) li. 2347. 2 Isenacum enim pene totam parentelam meam habet. Epp. i. 390. 52 his studies, and return to labour with bis father in the mines of Mansfeldt? Sud denly a door opens — a woman appears on the threshold : it is Ursula, the wife of Conrad Cotta, and daughter of the burgomaster of Ilefeld.1 The Eisenach chronicles style her " the pious Shunamite," in remembrance of her who so earnestly constrained the pro phet Elisha to stay and eat bread with her. The christian Shunamite had already more than once remarked the youthful Martin in the assemblies of the faithful ; she had been affected by the sweetness of his voice and by bis devotion.2 She had heard the harsh words that had been addressed to the poor scholar, and seeing him stand thus sadly be fore her door, she came to his aid, beckoned him to enter, and gave him food to appease his hunger. Conrad approved of his wife's benevolence : he even found so much pleasure in the boy's society, that a few days after he took him to live entirely with him. Henceforward his studies were secured. He is not obliged to return to the mines of Mansfeldt, and bury the talents that God has intrusted to him. At a time when he knew not what would become of him, God opened the heart and the house of a christian family. This event disposed his soul to that confidence in God which the severest trials could not after wards shake. Luther passed in Cotta's house a very different kind of life from that which he had hitherto known. His existence glided away calmly, exempt from want and care : his mind became more serene, bis character more cheerful, and his heart more open. All his faculties awoke at the mild rays of charity, and he began to exult with life, joy, and happiness. His prayers were more fer vent, his thirst for knowledge greater, and his progress in study more rapid. To literature and science he added the charms of the fine arts ; for they also were advancing in Germany. The men whom God destines to act upon their contempo raries, are themselves at first influenced and carried away by all the tendencies of the age in which they live. Luther learned to play on the flute and on the lute. With this latter instrument he used often to ac company his fine alto voice, and thus cheered his heart in the hours of sadness. He took delight in testifying by his melody his lively gratitude towards his adoptive mother, who was passionately fond of music. He himself loved the art even to old age, and composed the words and airs of some of the finest hymns that Germany possesses. Many have even passed into our language. These were happy times for young Luther : he could never think of them without emo tion. One of Conrad's sons coming many 1 Lingk's Relsegesch. Luth. 2 Dieweil sie umb seines Singen und hcrzlichen Gebets willen. Mathesius, p. 3- D'AUBIGNE'S HISTORY OF THE REFORMATION. years after to study at Wittemberg, when the poor scholar of Eisenach had become the first doctor of the age, was received with joy at his table and under his roof. He wished to make some return to the son for the kind ness he had received from the parents. It was in remembrance of this christian woman who had fed him when all the world repulsed him, that he gave utterance to this beautiful thought : " There is nothing sweeter on earth than the heart of a woman in which piety dwells." Luther was never ashamed of these days in which, oppressed by hunger, he used in sadness to beg the bread necessary for his studies and his livelihood. Far from that, he used to reflect with gratitude on the extreme poverty of his youth. He looked upon it as one of the means that God had employed to make him what he afterwards became, and he accordingly thanked him for it. The poor children who were obliged to follow the same kind of life, touched his heart. " Do not despise," said he, " the boys who go singing through the streets, begging a little bread for the love of God (panem propter Devm) : I also have done the same. It is true that somewhat later my father supported me with much love and kindness at the university of Erfurth, main taining me by the sweat of his brow ; yet I have been a poor beggar. And now, by means of my pen, I have risen so high, that I would not change lots with the Grand Turk himself. Nay more, should all the riches of the earth be heaped one upon an other, I would not take them in exchange for what I possess. And yet I should not be where I am, if I had not gone to school — if I had not learnt to write." — Thus did this great man see in these his first humble be ginnings the origin of all his glory. He feared not to recall to mind that the voice whose accents thrilled the empire and the world, once used to beg for a morsel of bread in the streets of a small town. The Christian finds a pleasure in such recollections, be cause they remind him that it is in God alone he should glory. The strength of his understanding, the liveliness of his imagination, the excellence of his memory, soon carried him beyond all his schoolfellows.1 He made rapid progress especially in Latin, in eloquence, and in poetry. He wrote speeches and composed verses. As he was cheerful, obliging, and had what is called " a good heart," he was beloved by his masters and by his school fellows. Among the professors he attached himself particularly to John Trebonius, a learned man, of an agreeable address, and who had all that regard for youth which is so well calculated to encourage them. 1 Cumque et vis ingenii acerrima esset, et imprimis ad eloquentiam idonea, celerlter aiqualibus suis praecurrit. Melancth. Vita Luth. Martin had noticed that whenever Trebonius entered the schoolroom, he raised his cap to salute the pupils. A great condescension in those pedantic times ! This had delighted the young man. He saw that he was some thing. The respect of the master had elevated the scholar in his own estimation. The colleagues of Trebonius, who did not adopt the same custom, having one day ex pressed their astonishment at his extreme condescension, he replied (and his answer did not the less strike the youthful Luther) : 11 There are among these boys men of whom God will one day make burgomasters, chan cellors, doctors, and magistrates. Although you do not yet see them with the badges of their dignity, it is right that you should treat them with respect." Doubtless the young scholar listened with pleasure to these words, and perhaps imagined himself already with the doctor's cap upon his head ! CHAPTER II. The University— Scholastic Divinity and the Classics- Luther's Piety— Discovery of the Bible— Illness— Luther admitted M. A.— Conscience— Death of Alexis— The Thun der-Storm—Providence—Farewell—Luther enters a Con vent. Luther had now reached his eighteenth year. He had tasted the sweets of literature ; he burnt with a desire of knowledge ; he sighed for a university education, and wished to repair to one of those fountains of learning where he could slake his thirst for letters. His father required him to study the law. Full of hope in the talents of his son, he wished that he should cultivate them and make them generally known. He already pictured him discharging the most honour able functions among his fellow-citizens, gaining the favour of princes, and shining on the theatre of the world. It was determined that the young man should go to Erfurth. Luther arrived at this university in 1501. Jodocus, surnamed the Doctor of Eisenach, was teaching there the scholastic philosophy with great success. Melancthon regrets that at that time nothing was taught at Erfurth but a system of dialectics bristling with dif ficulties. He thinks that if Luther had met with other professors, if they had taught him the milder and calmer discipline of true phi losophy, the violence of his nature might have been moderated and softened.2 The new disciple applied himself to study the philosophy of the Middle Ages in the works of Occam, Scotus, Bonaventure, and Thomas 53 1 ftegustatn igitur literarum dulcedine, natura flagrans cupidltate discendi appetit academiam. Mel. Vit. Luth. 2 Et fortassia ad Ieniendam vehementiam natunemitioro studia verse philosophise. Mel. Vit. Iiutb. D'AUBIGNE'S HISTORY OF THE REFORMATION. Aquinas. In later times all this scholastic divinity was his aversion. He trembled with indignation whenever Aristotle's name was pronounced in his presence, and he went so far as to say that if Aristotle had not been a man, he should not have hesitated to take him for the devil. But a mind so eager for learning as his required other aliments ; he began to study the masterpieces of antiquity, the writings of Cicero, Virgil, and other classic authors. He was not content, like the majority of students, with learning their productions by heart: he endeavoured to fathom their thoughts, to imbibe the spirit which animated them, to appropriate their wisdom to himself, to comprehend the object of their writings, and to emich his mind with their pregnant sentences and brilliant images. He often addressed questions to his profes sors, and soon outstripped all his fellow- students.1 Blessed with a retentive memory and a strong imagination, all that he read or heard remained constantly present to his mind ; it was as if he had seen it himself. " Thus shone Luther in his early years. The whole university," says Melancthon, " admired his genius." 2 But even at this period the young man of eighteen did not study merely to cultivate his intellect : he had those serious thoughts, that heart directed heavenwards, which God gives to those of whom he resolves to make his most zealous ministers. Luther was sensible of his entire dependence upon God, — simple and powerful conviction, which is at once the cause of deep humility and of great actions ! He fervently invoked the divine blessing upon his labours. Every morning he began the day with prayer ; he. then went to church, and afterwards applied to his studies, losing not a moment in the whole course of the day. " To pray well," he was in the habit of saying, " is the better half of study."3 The young student passed in the university library all the time he could snatch from his academical pursuits. Books were as yet rare, and it was a great privilege for him to profit by the treasures brought together in this vast collection. One day — he had then been two years at Erfurth, and was twenty years old — he opens many books in the library one after another, to learn their wri ters' names. One volume that he comes to attracts his attention. He has never until this hour seen its like. He reads the title — it is a Bible ! a rare book, unknown in those times.* His interest is greatly excited : he is filled with astonishment at finding other matters than those fragments of the gospels and epistles that the Church has 1 Et quldem inter primos, ut ingenio studloque multos coffiqualium antecellebat. Cochlceus, Acta Lutheri, p. 1. 2 Sic Igitur in juventute eminebat, ut totl academia) Lutheri ingenium admirationl esset. Vita Luth. 3 Flelsslg Gebet, ist uber die Helfft studirt. Mathes. 3. 4 Auff efn Zeyt, wie er die Bucher fein nacheinander besleht. . . .kombt er uber die latelnische Biblia. Mathes. 3. 54 selected to be read to the people during pub lic worship every Sunday throughout the year. Until this day he had imagined that they composed the whole Word of God. And now he sees so many pages, so many chapters, so many books of which he had had no idea ! His heart beats as he holds the divinely in spired volume in his hand. With eagerness and with indescribable emotion he turns over these leaves from God. The first page on which he fixes his attention narrates the story of Hannah and of the young Samuel. He reads — and his soul can hardly contain the joy it feels. This child, whom his pa rents lend to the Lord as long as he liveth ; the song of Hannah, in which she declares that Jehovah "raiseth up the poor out of the dust, and lifteth the beggar from the dung hill, to set them among princes ;" this child, who grew up in the temple in the presence of the Lord ; those sacrificers, the sons of Heli, who are wicked men, who live in debauchery, and " make the Lord's people to transgress ;" — all this history, all this revelation that he has just discovered, excites feelings till then unknown. He returns home with a full heart. " Oh ! that God would give me such a, book for myself," thought he.1 Luther was as yet ignorant both of Greek and He brew. It is scarcely probable that he had studied these languages during the first two or three years of his residence at the univer sity. The Bible that had filled him with such transports was in Latin. He soon re turned to the library to pore over his treasure. He read it again and again, and then, in his astonishment and joy, he returned to read it once more. The first glimmerings of a new truth were then beginning to dawn upon his mind. Thus had God led him to the discovery of his Word — of that book of which he was one day to give his fellow-countrymen that ad mirable translation in which Germany has for three centuries perused the oracles of God. Perhaps for the first time this precious vo lume has now been taken down from the place it occupied in the library of Erfurth. This book, deposited upon the unknown shelves of a gloomy hall, is about to become the book of life to a whole nation. In that Bible the Reformation lay hid. It was in the same year that Luther took his first academical degree — that of bachelor. The excessive labour to which he had devoted himself in order to pass his examination, oc casioned a dangerous illness. Death seemed approaching him : serious reflections occu pied his mind. He thought that his earthly existence was drawing to an end. The young man excited general interest. " It is a pity," they thought, "to see so many ex pectations so early blighted." Many friends came to visit him on his bed of sickness. Among their number was a venerable and 1 Avlde percurrlt, ccepltque optare ut olim talem llbrum et ipse nancisci posset. M. Adaml Vit. Luth. p. 103. D'AUBIGNE'S HISTORY OF THE REFORMATION. aged priest, who had watched with interest the student of Mansfeldt in his labours and in his academic career. Luther could not conceal the thoughts that occupied his mind. " Soon," said he, " I shall be called away from tbis world." But the old man kindly replied, " My dear bachelor, take courage ; you will not die of this illness. Our God will yet make of you a man who, in turn, shall console many.1 For God layeth his cross upon those whom he loveth, and they who bear it patiently acquire much wisdom." These words struck the young invalid. It was when he was so near death that he heard the voice of a priest remind him that God, as Samuel's mother said, raiseth up the miserable. The old man had poured sweet consolation into his heart, had revived his spi rits ; never will he forget it. " This was the first prediction that the worthy doctor heard," says Mathesius, Luther's friend, who records the fact, "and he often used to call it to mind. " We may easily comprehend in what sense Mathesius calls these words a predic tion. When Luther recovered, there was a great change in him. The Bible, his illness, the words of the aged priest, seem to have made a new appeal to him : but as yet there was nothing decided in his mind. Another cir cumstance awakened serious thoughts within him. It was the festival of Easter, proba bly in the year 1503. Luther was going to pass a short time with his family, and wore a sword according to the custom of the age. He struck against it with bis foot, the blade fell out, and cut one of the principal arteries. Luther, whose only companion had run off in haste to seek for assistance, finding him self alone, and seeing the blood flowing copi ously without being able to cheek it, lay down on his back, and put his finger on the wound ; but the blood escaped in despite of his exertions, and Luther, feeling the ap proach of death, cried out, " 0 Mary, help me ! " At last a surgeon arrived from Erfurth, who bound up the cut. The wound opened in the night, and Luther fainted, again calling loudly upon the Virgin. " At that time," said he in after-years, " I should have died relying upon Mary." Erelong he abandoned that superstition, and invoked a more powerful Saviour. He continued his studies. In 1505 he was admitted M.A. and doctor of philosophy. The university of Erfurth was then the most celebrated in all Germany. The others were but inferior schools in comparison with it. The cere mony was conducted, as usual, with great pomp. A procession by torchlight came to pay honour to Luther.2 The festival was magnificent. It was a general rejoicing. Luther, encouraged perhaps by these honours, 1 Deus te virum faciet qui alios multos iterum consolabi- tnr. M. Adaml Vit. Luth. p. 103, 2 Luth. Opp. W. xxii. p. 2229. 55 felt disposed to apply himself entirely to the law, in conformity with his father's wishes. But the will of God was different. While Luther was occupied with various studies, and beginning to teach the physics and ethics of Aristotle, with other branches of philosophy, his heart ceased not from crying to him that religion was the one thing need ful, and that above all things he should secure his salvation. He knew the displea sure that God manifests against sin ; he cal led to mind the penalties that his Word denounces against the sinner ; and he asked himself, with apprehension, whether he was sure of possessing the divine favour. His conscience answered, No ! His character was prompt and decided : he resolved to do all that might ensure him a firm hope of immor tality. Two events occurred, one after the other, to disturb his soul, and to hasten his resolution. Among his university friends was one named Alexis, with whom he lived in the closest intimacy. One morning a report was spread in Erfurth that Alexis had been as sassinated. Luther hastens to ascertain the truth of this rumour. This sudden loss of his friend agitated him, and the question he asked himself, What would become of me, if I were thus called away without warning ? fills his mind with the keenest terrors. 1 It was in the summer of the year 1505 that Luther, whom the ordinary university va cations left at liberty, resolved to go to Mans feldt, to revisit the dear scenes of his child hood and to embrace his parents. Perhaps also he wished to open his heart to his father, to sound him on the plan that he was form ing in his mind, and obtain his permission to engage in another profession. He foresaw all the difficulties that awaited him. The idle life of the majority of priests waB dis pleasing to the active miner of Mansfeldt. Besides, the ecclesiastics were but little es teemed in the world ; for the most part their revenues were scanty ; and the father, who had made great sacrifices to maintain his son at the university, and who now saw him teaching publicly in a celebrated school, al though only in his twentieth year, was not likely to renounce the proud hopes he had cherished. We are ignorant of what passed during Luther's stay at Mansfeldt. Perhaps the decided wish of his father made him fear to open his heart to him. He again quitted his father's house to take his seat on the benches of the academy. He was already within a short distance of Erfurth, when be was overtaken by a violent storm, such as often occurs in these mountains. The light ning flashed — the bolt fell at his feet. Luther threw himself upon his knees. His hour, perhaps, is come. Death, the judgment, and eternity summon him with all their terrors, l Interitu sodalis sui contristatus., Cochkeus,!. D'AUBIGNE'S HISTORY OF THE REFORMATION. and he hears a voice that he can no longer resist. " Encompassed with the anguish and terror of death," as he says himself,1 he makes a vow, if the Lord delivers him from this danger, to abandon the world, and devote himself entirely to God. After rising from the ground, having still present to him that death which must one day overtake him, he examines himself seriously, and asks what he ought to do. 2 The thoughts that once agitated him now return with greater force. He has endeavoured, it is true, to fulfil all his duties, but what is the state of his soul ? Can he appear before the tribunal of a terrible God with an impure heart ? He must become holy. He has now as great a thirst for holiness, as he had formerly for knowledge. But where can he find it, or how can he attain it ? The university pro vided him with the means of satisfying his first desires.. Who shall calm that anguish — who shall quench the fire that now con sumes him ? To what school of holiness shall he direct his steps ? He will enter a, cloister: the monastic life will save him. Oftentimes has he heard speak of its power to transform the heart, to sanctify the sinner, to make man perfect ! He will enter a mo nastic order. He will there become holy : thus will he secure eternal life. 3 Such was the event that changed the call ing, the whole destiny of Luther. In this we perceive the finger of God. It was his powerful hand that on the highway cast down the young master of arts, the candi date for the bar, the future lawyer, to give an entirely new direction to his fife. Rubi- anus, one of Luther's friends at the university of Erfurth, wrote thus to him in after-life : " Divine Providence looked at what you were one day to become, when on your return from your parents, the fire from heaven threw you to the ground, like another Paul, near the city of Erfurth, and withdrawing you from our society, drove you into the Augustine order." Analagous circumstances have marked the conversion of the two greatest instruments that Divine Providence has made use of in the two greatest revolutions that have been effected upon the earth : Saint Paul and Luther.4 Luther re-enters Erfurth. His resolution is unalterable. Still it is not without a pang that he prepares to break the ties so dear to him. He communicates his intention to no one. But one evening he invites his univer sity friends to a cheerful but frugal supper. Music once more enlivens their social meet- 1 Mit Erschrecken und Angst des Todes umgeben. L Epp. ii. 101. 2 Cum esset in campo, fulmlnis lctu territus. Coch- lceus, 1. 3 Occasio autem fuit lngredlendi illud vital genus, quod pietatl et studiis doctrinal de Deo, existimavit esse conveni- entlus. Mel. Vit. Luth. 4 Some historians record that Alexis was killed by the thunderbolt that alarmed Luther ; but two of his contem poraries, Mathesius (p. 41, and Selneccer (in Orat. de Luth.), distinguish between these two events ; we may even add the testimony of Melancthon to theirs : he says—" Sodalem nescio quo casu interfectum." Vit. Luth. ing. It is Luther's farewell to the world. Henceforth, instead of these amiable compa nions of his pleasures and his studies, he will have monks ; instead of this gay and .witty conversation — the silence of the cloister ; and for these merry songs — the solemn strains of the quiet chapel. God calls him, and he must sacrifice everything. Still, for the last time, let him share in the joys of his youth ! The repast excites his friends : Luther him self is the soul of the party. But at the very moment that they are giving way without restraint to their gaiety, the young man can no longer control the serious thoughts that fill his mind. He speaks — he makes known- his intention to his astonished friends. They endeavour to shake it, but in vain. And that very night Luther, fearful perhaps of their importunate solicitations, quits his lodgings. He leaves behind him all his clothes and books, taking with him only Virgil and Plautus ; he had no Bible as yet. Virgil and Plautus ! an epic poem and come dies ! striking picture of Luther's mind 1 There had in effect taken place in him a, whole epic — a beautiful, grand, and sublime poem ; but as he had a disposition inclined to gaiety, wit, and humour, he combined more than one familiar feature with the seri ous and stately groundwork of his life. Provided with these two books, he repairs alone, in the darkness of night, to the con vent of the hermits of St. Augustine. He asks admittance. The gate opens and closes again. Behold him separated for ever from his parents, from the companions of his studies, and from the world! It was the 17th August 1505 : Luther was then twenty- one years and nine months old. CHAPTER III. 56 His Father's Anger— Pardon— Humiliations— The Sack and rw« CeH-Endurance— Luther's Studies-St. Augustine— iwerd Ailly— Occam— Gerson— The chained Bible— Lyra -Hebrew and Greek-Daily Prayers-Asceticism-Mental LuThfr'!ni;¥ataCtingUfit?S M^~Vs^ Observances- Luther was with God at last. His soul was in safety. He was now about to find that holiness which he so much desired. The monks were astonished at the sight of the youthful doctor, and extolled his courage and his contempt of the world.1 He did not however, forget bis friends. He wrote to them, bidding farewell to them and to the world ; and on the next day he sent these letters, with the clothes he had worn till then, and returned to the university his ring of master of arts, that nothing might remind him of the world he had renounced. a(L?™nHw'^c°nt?n.ptt,'in£res8ns est repente, multls aomirantibus, monasterium. Cochlceus, 1. "«»™» D'AUBIGNE'S HISTORY OF THE REFORMATION. His friends at Erfurth were struck with astonishment. Must so eminent a genius go and hide himself in that monastic state, which is a partial death ? ' Filled with the liveliest sorrow, they hastily repair to the convent, in the hope of inducing Luther to retrace so afflicting a step : but all was use less. For two whole days they surrounded the convent and almost besieged it, in the hope of seeing Luther come forth. But the gates remained closely shut and barred. A month elapsed without any one being able to see or speak to the new monk. Luther had also hastened to communicate to his parents the great change that had taken place in his life. His father was amazed. He trembled for his son, as Luther himself tells us in the dedication of his work on monastic vows addressed to his father. His weakness, his youth, the violence of his passions, all led John Luther to fear that when the first moment of enthusiasm was over, the idle habits of the cloister would make the young man fall either into despair or into some great sin. He knew that this kind of life had already been the destruction of many. Besides, the councillor-miner of Mansfeldt had formed very different plans for his son. He had hoped that he would contract a rich and honourable marriage. And now all his ambitious projects are over thrown in one night by this imprudent step. John wrote a very angry letter to his son, in which he spoke to him in a contemptuous tone, as Luther informs us, while he had addressed him always in a friendly manner after he had taken his master-of-arts degree. He withdrew all his favour, and declared him disinherited from his paternal affection. In vain did his father's friends, and doubtless his wife, endeavour to soften him ; in vain did they say : " If you would offer a sacrifice to God, let it be what you hold best and dearest, — even your son, your Isaac." The inexorable councillor of Mansfeldt would listen to nothing. Not long after, however (as Luther tells us in a sermon preached at Wittemberg, 20th January 1544), the plague appeared, and de prived John Luther of two of his sons. About this time some one came and told the bereaved father, the monk of Erfurth is dead also! His friends seized the opportunity of reconciling the father to the young novice. " If it should be a false alarm," said they to him, " at least sanctify your affliction by cordially consenting to your son's becoming a monk ! " — " Well ! so be it ! " replied John Luther, with a heart bruised, yet still half rebellious, " and God grant he may prosper ! " Some time after this, when Luther, who had been reconciled to his father, related to him the event that had induced him to enter a monastic order : " God grant," replied the worthy miner, " that you may not have 1 In vrta semimortua. Melch. Adami V. L. p. 102. taken for a sign from heaven what was merely a delusion of the devil."1 There was not then in Luther that which was afterwards to make him the reformer of the Church. Of this his entrance into the convent is a strong proof. It was a pro ceeding in conformity with the tendencies of the age from which he was soon to contri bute his endeavours to liberate the Church. He who was destined to become the great teacher of the world, was as yet its slavish imitator. A new stone had Been added to the edifice of superstition by the very man who was erelong to destroy it. Luther looked to himself for salvation, to human works and observances. He knew not that salvation cometh wholly from God. He sought after his own glory and righteous ness, unmindful of the righteousness and glory of the Lord. But what he was igno rant of as yet, he learnt soon after. It was in the cloister of Erfurth that this immense transformation was brought about, which substituted in his heart God and his wisdom for the world and its traditions, and that pre pared the mighty revolution of which he was to be the most illustrious instrument. When Martin Luther entered the convent, he changed his name, and assumed that of Augustine. The monks had received him with joy. It was no slight gratification to their vanity to see one of the most esteemed doctors of the age abandon the university for a house be longing to their order- Nevertheless they treated him harshly, and imposed on him the meanest occupations. They wished to hum ble the doctor of philosophy, and to teach him that bis learning did not raise him above his brethren. They imagined, besides, by this means to prevent him from devoting himself so much to his studies, from which the convent could reap no advantage. The former master of arts had to perform the offices of porter, to open and shut the gates, to wind up the clock, to sweep the church, and to clean out the cells. 2 Then, when the poor monk, who was at once doorkeeper, sexton, and menial servant of the cloister, had finished his work : Cum sacco per civi- tatem ! Away with your wallet through the town ! cried the friars ; and laden with his bread-bag, he wandered through all the streets of Erfurth, begging from house to house, obliged perhaps to present himself at the doors of those who had once been his friends or his inferiors. On his return, he had either to shut himself up in a low and narrow cell, whence he could see nothing but a small garden a few feet square, or re commence his humble tasks. But he put up with all. Naturally disposed to devote him self entirely to whatever he undertook, he 57 Gott geb dass es nicht eln Betrug und teuflisch Gespenst Loca, iminunda' purgare coactus est. M. Adami Vita Luth. p. 103. D'AUBIGNE'S HISTORY OF THE REFORMATION. had become a monk with all his soul. Be sides, how could he have a thought of sparing his body, or have had any regard for what might please the flesh ? It was not thus that he could acquire the humility, the sanctity which he had come to seek within the walls of the cloister. The poor monk, oppressed with toil, has tened to employ in study all the moments that he could steal from these mean occupa tions. He voluntarily withdrew from the society of the brethren to give himself up to his beloved pursuits ; but they soon found it out, and surrounding him with murmurs, tore him from his books, exclaiming, "Come, come ! It is not by studying, but by beg ging bread, corn, eggs, fish, meat, and money that a monk renders himself useful to the cloister."1 Luther submitted: he laid aside his books, and took up his hag again. Far from repenting at having taken upon him self such a yoke, he is willing to go through with his task. It was then that the inflexible perseverance with which he always carried out the resolutions he had once formed, began to be developed in his mind. The resistance he made to these rude assaults gave a stronger temper to his will. God tried him in small things, that he might learn to re main unshaken in great ones. Besides, to be able to deliver his age from the miserable superstitions under which it groaned, it was necessary for him first to feel their weight. To drain the cup, he must drink it to the very dregs. This severe apprenticeship did not, how ever, last so long as Luther might have feared. The prior of the convent, at the in tercession of the university to which Luther belonged, freed him from the humiliating duties that had been laid upon him. The youthful monk then returned to bis studies with new zeal. The works of the Fathers of the Church, especially of St. Augustine, attracted his attention. The exposition of the Psalms by this illustrious doctor, and his book On the Letter and the Spirit, were his favourite study. Nothing struck him more than the sentiments of this Father on the corruption of man's will and on Divine Grace. He felt by his own experience the reality of that corruption and the necessity for that grace. The words of St. Augustine corresponded with the sentiments of his heart. If he could have belonged to any other school than that of Jesus Christ, it would undoubtedly have been to that of the doctor of Hippo. He almost knew by rote the works of Peter d'Ailly and of Gabriel Biel. He was much taken with a saying of the former, that, if the Church had not de cided to the contrary, it would have been preferable to concede that the bread and wine were really taken in the Lord's supper, and not mere accidents. i Selneccerl Orat. de Luth.— Mathesius, p. 5. 58 He also carefully studied the theologians Occam and Gerson, who both express them selves so freely on the authority of the popes. To this course of reading he added other ex ercises. He was heard in the public discus sions unravelling the most complicated trains of reasoning, and extricating himself from a labyrinth whence none but be could have found an outlet. All his. auditors were filled with astonishment.1 But he had not entered the cloister to ac quire the reputation of a great genius : it was to seek food for his piety.2 He there fore regarded these labours as mere digres sions. He loved above all things to draw wisdom from the pure source of the Word of God. He found in the convent a Bible fastened by a chain, and to this chained Bible he was continually returning. He had but little understanding of the Word, yet was it his most pleasing study. It sometimes hap pened that he passed a whole day meditating upon a single passage. At other times he learned fragments of the Prophets by heart. He especially desired to acquire from the writings of the Prophets and of the Apostles a perfect knowledge of God's will ; to grow up in greater fear of His name ; and to nou rish his faith by the sure testimony of the Word.3 It would appear that about this time he began to study the Scriptures in their origi nal languages, and to lay the foundation of the most perfect and most useful of his labours — ¦ the translation of the Bible. He made use of Reuchlin 's' Hebrew Lexicon, that had just appeared. John Lange, one of the friars of the convent, a man skilled in Greek and Hebrew, and with whom he always remained closely connected, probably was his first in structor.4 He also made much use of the learned commentaries of Nicholas Lyra, who died in 1340. It was from this circumstance that Pflug, afterwards bishop of Naumburg, said : Si Lyra non lyrasset, Lutherus non sal- tasset.6 The young monk studied with such indus try and zeal that it often happened that he did not repeat the daily prayers for three or four weeks together. But he soon grew alarmed at the thought that he had trans gressed the rules of his order. He then shut himself up to repair his negligence, and be gan to repeat conscientiously all the prayers he had omitted, without a thought of either eating or drinking. Once even, for seven weeks together, he scarcely closed his eyes in sleep. Burning with desire to attain that holiness 1p! 1Sw?!?*tl0?.i','H ^¥icis labyrtathosalilslnextricabi- Vit'a Luth admirantibus explicabat. Melancth. pietatise,u^bfteneibidn0I> f"ma° laS"M' Sei allmenU J Et firmis testlmoniis aleret tlmorem et Mem. Ibid. i Gesch. d deutsch. Bibeliibersetzung. danced °0t touchl!d Ma l*ie< Luther had never D'AUBIGNE'S HISTORY OF THE REFORMATION. in quest of which he had entered the cloister, Luther gave way to all the rigour of an ascetic life. He endeavoured to crucify the flesh by fastings, mortifications, and watch- ings.1 Shut up in his cell, as in a prison, he struggled unceasingly against the deceit ful thoughts and the evil inclinations of his heart. A little bread and a small herring were often his only food. Besides, he was naturally of very abstemious habits. Thus he was frequently seen by his friends, long after he had ceased to think of purchasing heaven by bis abstinence, content himself with the poorest viands, and remain even four days in succession without eating or drinking.2 This we have on the testi mony of Melancthon, a witness in every respect worthy of credit. We may judge from this circumstance of the little value we ought to attach to the fables that ignorance and prejudice have circulated as to Luther's intemperance. At the period of which we are speaking, nothing was too great a sacri fice that might enable him to become a saint — to acquire heaven. Never did the Romish church possess a more pious monk. Never did cloister witness more severe or indefati gable exertions topurchase eternal happiness.3 When Luther had become a reformer, and had declared that heaven was not to be ob tained by such means as these, he knew very well what he was saying. " I was indeed a pious monk," wrote he to Duke George of Saxony, " and followed the rules of my order more strictly than I can express. If ever monk could obtain heaven by his monkish works, I should certainly have been entitled to it. Of this all the friars who have known me can testify. If it had continued much longer, I should have carried my mortifica tions even to death, by means of my watch- ings, prayers, reading, and other labours."4 We are approaching the epoch which made Luther a new man, and which, by revealing to him the infinity of God's love, put him in a condition to declare it to the world. Luther did not find in the tranquillity of the cloister and in monkish perfection that peace of mind which he had looked for there. He wished to have the assurance of his sal vation : this was the great want of his soul. Without it, there was no repose for him. But the fears that had agitated him in the world pursue him to his cell. Nay, they were increased. The faintest cry of his heart re-echoed loud beneath the silent arches of the cloister. God had led him thither, that he might learn to know himself, and to de spair of his own strength and virtue. His conscience, enlightened by the Divine Word, l Summa discipline! severitate se ipse regit, et omnibus exercitiis lectionum, disputatlonum, jejuniorum, precum, omnes longe superat. Meiancth. Vit. Luth. 2 Erat enim natura, valde modici cibi ct potus : vidi con- tlnuis quatuor diebus, cum quidem recte valeret, prorsus nihil edentem aut bibenteni. Ibid. s Strenue in studiis et exercitiis spirltuallbus, mllltavit ibi Deo annis quatuor. Cochlceus, 1. 4 L. Opp. (W.) lis. 2299. told him what it was to be holy ; but he was filled with terror at finding, neither in his heart nor in his life, that image of holiness which he had contemplated with admiration in the Word of God. A sad discovery, and one that is made by every sincere man ! No righteousness within, no righteousness with out! all was omission, sin, impurity! The more ardent the character of Luther, the stronger was that secret and constant resistance which man's nature opposes to good ; and it plunged him into despair. The monks and divines of the day encou raged him to satisfy the divine righteousness by meritorious works. But what works, thought he, can come from a heart like mine ? How can I stand before the holiness of my judge with works polluted in their very source ? "I saw that I was a great sinner in the eyes of God," said he, " and I did not think it possible for me to propitiate him by my own merits." He was agitated and yet dejected, avoid ing the trifling and stupid conversation of the monks. The latter, unable to compre hend the storms that tossed his soul, looked upon him with surprise,1 and reproached him for his silence and his gloomy air. One day, Cochlceus tells us, as they were saying mass in the chapel, Luther had carried thither all his anxiety, and was in the choir in the midst of the brethren, sad and heart-stricken. Already the priest had prostrated himself, the incense had been burnt before the altar, the Gloria sung, and they were reading the Gospel, when the poor monk, unable any longer to repress his anguish, cried out in a mournful tone, as he fell on his knees, " It is not I — it is not I."2 All were thunder struck: and the ceremony was interrupted for a moment. Perhaps Luther thought he heard some reproach of which he knew him self innocent; perhaps he declared his un- worthiness of being one of those to whom Christ's death had brought the gift of eternal life. Cochloeus says, they were then read ing the story of the dumb man from whom Christ expelled a devil. It is possible that this cry of Luther, if the account be true, had reference to this circumstance, and that, although speechless like the dumb man, he protested by such an exclamation, that his silence came from other causes than demon iacal possession. Indeed, Cochloeus tells us that the monks sometimes attributed the sufferings of their brother to a secret inter course with the devil, and this writer him self entertained that opinion.3 A tender conscience inclined Luther to regard the slightest fault as a great sin. He had hardly discovered it, before he endea voured to expiate it by the severest mortifi cations, which only served to point out to l VIsus est fratribus non nihil singularitatls habere. Non sum ! nou Cochlceus, 1. , ,-„ „„, 2 Cum repente ceciderit vociferans 3"ex occulio aliquo cum damone commercio. 59 D'AUBIGNE'S HISTORY OF THE REFORMATION. him the inutility of all human remedies. " I tortured myself almost to death," said he, " in order to procure peace with God for my troubled heart and agitated conscience ; but surrounded with thick darkness, I found peace nowhere." The practices of monastic holiness, which had lulled so many consciences to sleep, and to which Luther himself had had recourse in his distress, soon appeared to him the un availing remedies of an empirical and decep tive religion. " While I was yet a monk, I no sooner felt assailed by any temptation than I cried out — I am lost ! Immediately I had recourse to a thousand methods to stifle the cries of my conscience. I went every day to confession, but that was of no use to me. Then bowed down by sorrow, I tortured myself by the multitude of my thoughts. — Look, exclaimed I, thou art still envious, impatient, passionate!... It profiteth thee nothing, 0 wretched man, to have entered this sacred order." And yet Luther, imbued with the preju dices of his time, had from early youth con sidered the observances, whose worthlessness he had now discovered, as a certain remedy for diseased souls. What can he think of the strange discovery he has just made in the solitude of the cloister ? It is possible, then, to dwell within the sanctuary, and yet bear in one's bosom a man of sin! He has received another garment, but not an other heart. His expectations are disap pointed. Where can he stop ? Can all these rules and observances be mere human inven tions ? Such a supposition appears to him, at one time, a temptation of the devil, and at another, an irresistible truth. By turns con tending with the holy voice that spake to his heart, and with the venerable institutions that time had sanctioned, Luther passed his life in a continual struggle. The young monk crept like a shadow through the long galleries of the cloister, that re-echoed with his sorrowful moanings. His body wasted away; his strength began to fail him; it sometimes happened that he remained like one dead. 1 On one occasion, overwhelmed with sor row, he shut himself up in his cell, and for several days and nights allowed no one to approach him. One of his friends, Lucas Edemberger, feeling anxious about the un happy monk, and having a presentiment of the condition in which he was, took with him some boys who were in the habit of singing in the choirs, and knocked at the door of the cell. No one opens — no one answers. The good Edemberger, still more alarmed, breaks open the door. Luther lies insensible upon the floor, and giving no signs of life. His friend strives in vain to recall him to his senses: he is still motionless. 1 Sspe eum cogitantem attentius de ira Del, aut de miran- dts pcenarum exemplls, subito tantl terrores concutiebant, ut pene exanlmaretur. Melancth. Vita Luth. Then the choristers begin to sing a sweet hymn. Their clear voices act like a charm on the poor monk, to whom music was ever one of his greatest pleasures : gradually he recovers his strength, his consciousness, and life.1 But if music could restore his serenity for a few moments, he requires another and a stronger remedy to heal him thoroughly : he needs that mild and subtle sound2 of the Gospel, which is the voice of God himself. He knew it well. And therefore his troubles and his terrors led him to study with fresh zeal the writings of the prophets and of the apostles. s 60 CHAPTER IV. Pious Monks— Staupitz— His Piety— Visitation— Conversa tions— The Grace of Christ^Repentance— Power of Sin— Sweetness of Repentance — Election — Providence — The Bible— The aged Monk— Forgiveness of Sins— Ordination —The Dinner— Festival of Corpus Chrlsti— Luther made Professor at Wittemberg. Luther was not the first monk who had undergone such trials. The gloomy walls of the cloisters often concealed the most abominable vices, that would have made every upright mind shudder, had they been revealed ; but often, also, they hid christian virtues tbat expanded there in silence, and which, had they been exposed to the eyes of the world, would have excited universal ad miration. The possessors of these virtues, living only with themselves and with God, attracted no attention, and were often un known to the modest convent in which they were enclosed : their lives were known only to God. Sometimes these humble solitaries fell into that mystic theology, — sad disease of the noblest minds ! which in earlier ages had been the delight of the first monks on the hanks of the Nile, and which unprofit- ably consumes the souls of those who become its victims. Yet if one of these men was called to some high station, he there displayed virtues whose salutary influence was long and widely felt. The candle was set on a candlestick, and it illumined the whole house. Many were awakened by this light. Thus from generation to generation were these pious souls propagated; they were seen shining like isolated torches at the very times when the cloisters were often little other than impure receptacles of the deepest darkness. A young man had been thus distinguished in one of the German convents. His name was John Staupitz, and he was descended from a noble Misnian family. From his l Seckend. p. 63. 2 l Kings xix. 12. s Hoc studium ut magls expeteret, illis suls doloribus et pavonbus movebatur. Melancth. Vita Luth. D'AUBIGNE'S HISTORY OF THE REFORMATION. tenderest youth he had had a taste for know ledge and a love of virtue.1 He felt the need of retirement to devote himself to let ters. He soon discovered that philosophy and the study of nature could not do much towards eternal salvation. He therefore began to learn divinity ; but especially en deavoured to unite practice with Knowledge. " For," says one ot his biographers, " it is in vain that we assume the name of divine, if we do not confirm that noble title by our lives."2 The study of the Bible and of the Augustine theology, the knowledge of him self, the battles that he, like Luther, had had to fight against the deceits and lusts of his heart, led him to the Redeemer. He found peace to his soul in faith in Christ. The doctrine of election by grace had taken strong hold of his mind. The integrity of his life, the extent of his knowledge, the elo quence of his speech, not less than a strik ing exterior and dignified manners,3 recom mended him to his contemporaries. Frede rick the Wise, elector of Saxony, made him his friend, employed him in various embas sies, and founded the university of Wittem berg under his direction. This disciple of St. Paul and St. Augustine was the first dean of the theological faculty of that school whence the light was one day to issue to illumine the schools and churches of so many nations. He was present at the Lateran council, as proxy of the Archbishop of Saltz burg, became provincial of his order in Thu ringia and Saxony, and afterwards vicar-gene ral of the Augustines for all Germany. Staupitz was grieved at the corruption of morals and the errors of doctrine that were devastating the Church. His writings on the love of God, on christian faith, and on conformity with the death of Christ, and the testimony of Luther, confirm this. But he considered the former evil of more import ance than the latter. Besides the mildness and indecision of his character, his desire not to go beyond the sphere of action he thought assigned to him, made him fitter to be the restorer of a convent than the reformer of the Church. He would have wished to raise none but distinguished men to import ant offices ; but not finding them, he sub mitted to employ others. " We must plough," said he, " with such horses as we can find ; and with oxen, if there are no horses."* We have witnessed the anguish and the internal struggles to which Luther was a prey in the convent of Erfurth. At this penpd a visitation of the vicar-general was announced. In fact Staupitz came to make his usual inspection. This friend of Frede rick, the founder of the university of Wit temberg, and chief of the Augustines, exhi- 1 Atenerisunguiculis, generoso anlmi impetu, ad virtu- tem et eruditam doctrlnam contendlt. Melch. Adam. Vita Staupizii. t ibid. ' Corporis forma atquestaturaconspicuus. Cochlosus, 3. •> L. Opp. (W.)T. 2819. bited much kindness to those monks who were under his authority. One of these brothers soon attracted his attention. He was a young man of middle height, whom study, fasting, and prolonged vigils had so wasted away that all his bones might be counted.1 His eyes, that hi after-years were compared to a falcon's, were sunken ; his manner was dejected ; his countenance betrayed an agitated mind, the prey of a thousand struggles, but yet strong and resolute. His whole appearance was grave, melancholy, and solemn-. ' Staupitz, whose discernment had been exercised by long ex perience, easily discovered what was passing in his mind, and distinguished the youthful monk above all who surrounded him. He felt drawn towards him, had a presentiment of his great destiny, and entertained quite a paternal interest for his inferior. He had had to struggle, like Luther, and therefore he could understand him. Above all, he could point out to him the road to peace, which he himself had found. What he learnt of the circumstances that had brought the young Augustine into the convent, still more increased his sympathy. He requested the prior to treat him with greater mildness, and took advantage of the opportunities afforded by his station to win the confidence of the youthful brother. Approaching him with affection, he endeavoured by every means to dispel his timidity, which was increased by the respect and fear that a man of such exalted rank as Staupitz must necessarily inspire. Luther's heart, which harsh treatment had closed till then, opened at last and expanded under the mild beams of charity. "As in water face answereth to face, so the heart of man to man."2 Luther's heart found an echo in that of Staupitz. The vicar-general understood him, and the monk felt a con fidence towards him, that he had as yet experienced for none. He unbosomed to him the cause of his dejection, described the horrible thoughts that perplexed him, and then began in the cloister of Erfurth those conversations so full of wisdom and of in struction. Up to this time no one had under stood Luther. One day, when at table in the refectory, the young monk, dejected and silent, scarcely touched his food. Staupitz, who looked earnestly at him, said at last, " Why are you so sad, brother Martin?" — " Ah !" replied he, with a deep sigh, " I do not know what will become of me ! " — " These temptations," resumed Staupitz, " are more necessary to you than eating and drinking." These two men did not stop there; and erelong in the silence of the cloister took place that intimate intercourse, which powerfully contributed to lead forth the future reformer from his state of dark ness. ' 61 I P. Mosellani Epist. 2 Proverbs xxvii. 19. D'AUBIGNE'S HISTORY OF THE REFORMATION. " It is in vain," said Luther despondingly to Staupitz, " that I make promises to God : sin is ever the strongest." " O my friend ! " replied the vicar-general, looking back on his own experience ; " more than a thousand times have I sworn to our holy God to live piously, and I have never kept my vows. Now I swear no longer, for I know I cannot keep my solemn promises. If God will not be merciful towards me for the love of Christ, and grant me a happy departure, when I must quit this world, I shall never, with the aid of all my vows and all my good works, stand before him. I must perish." : The young monk is terrified at the thought of divine justice. He lays open all his fears to the vicar-general. He is alarmed at the unspeakable holiness of God and his sove reign majesty. " Who may abide the day of his coming ? and who shall stand when he appeareth? " (Mai. iii. 2.) Staupitz resumes : he knows where he had found peace, and he will point it out to the young man. " Why," said he, " do you tor ment yourself with all these speculations and these high thoughts ? Look at the wounds of Jesus Christ, to the blood that he has shed for you: it is there that the grace of God will appear to you. Instead of torturing yourself on account of your sins, throw your self into the Redeemer's arms. Trust in him — in the righteousness of his life — in the atonement of his death. Do not shrink back ; God is not angry with you, it is you who are angry with God. Listen to the Son of God. He became man to give you the assurance of divine favour. He says to you, You are my sheep ; you hear my voice ; no man shall pluck you out of my hand."2 But Luther does not find in himself the repentance which he thinks necessary for salvation : and replies he, it is the usual answer of distressed and timid minds : " How can I dare believe in the favour of God, so long as there is no real conversion in me ? I -must be changed, before he will accept me." His venerable guide shows him that there can be no real conversion, so long as man fears God as a severe judge. " What will you say then," asks Luther, " to so many consciences to which a thousand insupport able tasks are prescribed in order that they may gain heaven ? " Then he hears this reply of the vicar- general, or rather he does not believe that it comes from man: it seems to him like a voice from heaven.3 " There is no real re pentance except that which begins with the love of God and of righteousness.4 What others imagine to be the end and accomplish ment of repentance, is on the contrary only 1 L. Opp. (W.) vill. 2725. 2 ibn. h. 294. 3 Te velut e coelo sonantem accepimus. L. Epp. i. 115. ad Staupitzium, 30 May, 1518. 4 Posnitentia vero non est, nisi qua) ab amore juati tire et Del lncipit, &c. Ibid. its beginning. In order that you may be filled with the love of what is good,. you must first be filled with love for God. If you desire to be converted, do not be curious about all these mortifications and all these tortures. Love him who first loved you ! " Luther listens — he listens again. These consolations fill him with joy till then un known, and impart new light. "It is Jesus Christ," thinks he in his heart : " yes, it is Jesus Christ himself who so wonderfully consoles me by these sweet and healing words."1 These words, indeed, penetrated to the bottom of the young monk's heart, like the sharp arrow of a strong man. 2 In order to repent, we must love God. Guided by this new light, he begins to compare the Scrip tures. He looks out all the passages that treat of repentance and conversion. These words, till then so dreaded, to use his own expression, " are become to him an agreeable pastime and the sweetest of recreations. All the passages of Scripture that used to alarm him, seem now to run to him from every part, — to smile and sport around him."3 " Hitherto," exclaims he, " although I carefully dissembled the state of my soul before God, and endeavoured to express to wards him a. love which was a mere con straint and a fiction, there was no expression in Scripture so bitter to me as that of re pentance. But now there is none so sweet or more acceptable. * Oh ! how delightful are all God's precepts when we read them not only in books, but also in our Saviour's precious wounds ! "6 Although Luther had been consoled by Staupitz' words, he nevertheless fell some times into despondency. Sin was again felt in his timid conscience, and then all his pre vious despair banished the joy of salvation. " 0 my sin ! my sin ! my sin ! " cried the young monk one day in the presence of the vicar-general, with a tone of profound anguish. "Well! would you only be a sinner in appearance," replied the latter, " and have also a Saviour only in appear ance ? Then," added Staupitz with authority, " know that Jesus Christ is the Saviour even of those who are great, real sinners, and deserving of utter condemnation." _ It was not alone the sin he discovered in his heart that agitated Luther ; the troubles of his conscience were augmented by those of reason. If the holy precepts of the Bible alarmed him, some of the doctrines of that divine book still more increased his tortures. 1 Memlnl inter jucundissimas ct salutares fabulos tuns, quibus me soiet Dominus Jesus mirifice consolarl. L Epp i. 115. ad Staupitzium, 30 May, 1518. ,H — «ui| 'i-ii/n uiiujiiur; infill IAM1U- debant, planeque hmc sententiee arridebantet assultabant ip. 1. 115. June nihil dulcius aut gratius mihi sonet quam pcenl. 62 tentia, &c. Ibid. a Ita enim dulcescunt proscepta Del, quando non in librls tantum, sed in vulnenbus dulcissimi Salvatoris legenda in- telllgimus. Ibid. D'AUBIGNE'S HISTORY OF THE REFORMATION. The Truth, which is the great medium by which God confers peace on man, must ne cessarily begin by taking away from him the false security that destroys him. The doctrine of Election particularly disturbed the young man, and launched him into a boundless field of inquiry. Must he believe that it was man who first chose God for his portion, or that God first elected man ? The Bible, history, daily experience, the works of Augustine, — all had shown him that we must always and in every case ascend to that first cause, to that sovereign will by which every thing exists, and on which every thing depends. But his ardent spirit would have desired to go still further ; he would have wished to penetrate into the secret councils of God, unveiled his mys teries, seen the invisible, and comprehended the incomprehensible. Staupitz checked him. He told him not to presume to fathom the hidden God, hut to confine himself to what he has manifested to us in Jesus Christ. " Look at Christ's wounds," said he, " and then will you see God's counsel towards man shine brightly forth. We cannot understand God out of Jesus Christ. In him, the Lord has said, you will find what I am, and what I require. Nowhere else, neither in heaven nor in earth, will you discover it."1 The vicar-general did still more. He showed Luther the paternal designs of Provi dence in permitting these temptations and these various struggles that his soul was to undergo. He made him view them in a light well calculated to revive his courage. By such trials God prepares for himself the souls that he destines for some important work. We must prove the vessel before we launch it into the wide sea. If there is an education necessary for every man, there is a particular one for those who are destined to act upon their generation. This is what Staupitz re presented to the monk of Erfurth. "It is not in vain," said he to him, " that God exer cises you in so many conflicts : you will see that he will employ you, as his servant, for great purposes." These words, to which Luther listened with astonishment and humility, inspired him with courage, and led him to discover strength in himself which he had not even suspected. The wisdom and prudence of an enlightened friend gradually revealed the strong man to himself. Staupitz went fur ther : he gave him many valuable directions for his studies, exhorting him, henceforward, to derive all his theology from the Bible, and to put away the systems of the "Schools. " Let the study of the Scriptures," said he, " be your favourite occupation." Never was good advice better followed out. What par ticularly delighted Luther, was the present Staupitz made him of a Bible : but it was not that Latin one, bound in red leather, the pro perty of the convent, and which it was all his desire to possess, and to be able to carry about with him, because he was so familiar with its pages, and knew where to find each passage. * Nevertheless, at length he is master of the treasure of God. Hencefor ward he studies the Scriptures, and especially the epistles of St. Paul, with ever-increasing zeal. To these he adds the works of St. Augustine alone. All that he reads is im printed deeply in his mind. His struggles have prepared his heart to understand the Word. The soil has been ploughed deep : the incorruptible seed sinks into it with power. When Staupitz quitted Erfurth, a new dawn had risen upon Luther. But the work was not yet finished. The vicar-general had prepared the way : God re served its accomplishment for an humbler in strument. The conscience of the young Au gustine had not yet found repose. His body gave way at last under the conflict and the tension of his soul. He was attacked by an illness that brought him to the brink of the grave. This was in the second year of his abode in the convent. All his distresses and all his fears were aroused at the approach of death. His own impurity and the holiness of God again disturbed his mind. One day, as he lay overwhelmed with despair, an aged monk entered his cell, and addressed a few words of comfort to him. Luther opened his heart to him, and made known the fears by which he was tormented. The venerable old man was incapable of following up that soul in all its doubts, as Staupitz had done ; but he knew his Credo, and had found in it much consolation to his heart. He will therefore apply the same remedy to his young brother. Leading him back to that Apostles' creed which Luther had learnt in early childhood at the school of Mansfeldt, the aged monk repeated this article with kind good-nature : / believe in the forgiveness of sins. These simple words, which the pious brother pronounced with sincerity in this decisive moment, diffused great consolation in Luther's heart. " I believe," he repeated to himself erelong on his bed of sickness, " I believe in the forgiveness of sins ! " — " Ah ! " said the monk, " you must believe not only in the forgiveness of David's and of Peter's sins, for this even the devils believe. Itis God's command that we believe our own sins are forgiven us."2 How delightful did this commandment seem to poor Luther ! " Hear what St. Bernard says in his discourse on the Annunciation," added the aged brother : " The testimony of the Holy Ghost in thy heart is this : Thy sins are forgiven thee." From this moment light sprung up in the heart of the young monk of Erfurth. The word of grace had been pronounced : he had 1 L. Opp. (W.) xxli. 189. 63 1 Seckend. p. 52. , . *. , . , „ z Davidi aut Petro Sed mandatum Dei esse, ut sinfruli homines nobis remitti peccata credamus. Melancth. Vita Luth. D'AUBIGNE'S HISTORY OF THE REFORMATION. believed in it. He disclaims all merit of sal vation, and resigns himself confidingly to the grace of God in Jesus Christ. He does not at first perceive the consequences of the prin ciple he has admitted ; he is still sincere in his attachment to the Church, and yet he has no further need of her ; for he has received salvation immediately from God himself, and henceforth Roman-catholicism is virtually destroyed in him. He advances, — he seeks in the writings of the apostles and prophets for all that can strengthen the hope which fills his heart. Each day he invokes support from on high, and each day also the light increases in his soul. Luther's mental health restored that of his body, and he soon rose from his bed of sick ness. He had received a new life in a two fold sense. The festival of Christmas, that soon came, gave him an opportunity of abun dantly tasting all the consolations of faith. He took part in these holy solemnities with sweet emotion ; and when in the ceremonial of the day he hid to chant these words : 0 beata culpa quce talem meruisti Redemptorem ! ] his whole being responded Amen, and thrilled with joy. Luther had been two years in the cloister, and was to be ordained priest. He had received much, and saw with delight the prospect afforded by the sacerdotal office of freely distributing what he had freely re ceived. He wished to take advantage of the ceremony that was about to take place to become thoroughly reconciled with his father. He invited him to be present, and even re quested him to fix the day. John Luther, who was not yet entirely pacified with regard to his son, nevertheless accepted the invita tion, and named Sunday, 2d May, 1507. Among the number of Luther's friends was the vicar of Eisenach, John Braun, who had been a faithful counsellor to him during his residence in that city. Luther wrote to him on the 22d April. This is the oldest letter of the reformer, and it bears the following address : " To John Braun, holy and vene rable priest of Christ and of Mary." It is only in Luther's two earliest letters that the name of Mary is found. " God, who is glorious and holy in all his works," says the candidate for the priesthood, " having most graciously condescended to raise me up — me, a wretched and in all re spects unworthy sinner, and to call me by his sole and most free mercy to his sublime ministry; I ought, in order to testify my gratitude for such divine and magnificent goodness (as far at least as mere dust and ashes can do it) to fulfil with my whole heart the duties of the office intrusted to me." At. last the day arrived. The miner of Mansfeldt did not fail to be present at his son's ordination. He gave him indeed no 1 Oh blessed fault, that has merited such a Redeemer ! Mathesius, p. 5. unequivocal mark of his affection and of his generosity by presenting him on this occa sion with twenty florins. The ceremony took place. Hieronymus, bishop of Brandenburg, officiated. At the moment of conferring on Luther the power of celebrating mass, he placed the chalice in his hands, and uttered these solemn words, Accipe potestatem sacrificandi pro _ vivis et mortuis : " Receive the power of sacrificing for the quick and the dead." Luther at that time listened calmly to these words, which conferred on him the power of doing the work of the Son of God ; but he shuddered at them in after-years. " If the earth did not then open and swallow us both up," said he, " it was owing to the great patience and long-suffering of the Lord. " 1 ' The father afterwards dined at the convent with his son, the young priest's friends, and the monks. The conversation fell on Mar tin's entrance into the monastery. The bro thers loudly extolled it as a most meritorious work ; upon which the inflexible John, turn ing to his son, asked him : "Have you not read in Scripture, that you should obey your ' father and mother?"2 These words struck Luther ; they presented in quite a new aspect the action that had brought him into the bosom of the convent, and they long re-echoed in his heart. Shortly after his ordination, Luther, by the advice of Staupitz, made little excur sions on foot into the neighbouring parishes and convents, either to divert his mind and give his body the necessary exercise, or to accustom him to preaching. The festival of Corpus Christi was to be celebrated with great pomp at Eisleben. The vicar-general would be present, and Luther repaired there also. He had still need of Staupitz, and sought every opportunity of meeting this enlightened guide who directed his soul into the path of fife. The procession was numerous and brilliant. Staupitz him self bore the consecrated host, Luther follow ing in his sacerdotal robes. The thought that it was Jesus Christ himself whom the vicar-general carried, the idea that the Sa viour was there in person before him, sud denly struck Luther's imagination, and filled him with such terror that he could scarcely proceed. The perspiration fell drop by drop from his face; he staggered, and thought he should die of anguish and affright. At length the procession was over; the host, that had awakened all the fears of the monk, was solemnly deposited in the sanctuary; and Luther, finding himself alone with Staupitz, fell into his arms and confessed his dread. Then the good vicar-general, who had long known that gentle Saviour, who does not break the bruised reed, said to him mildly : " It was not Jesus Christ, my brother ; he 64 1 Opp. xvi. (WJIIM. 2 Ei, hast du nlcht auch gehort dass man Eltern soil go- horsam seyn. L. Epp. il. 101. D'AUBIGNE'S HISTORY OF THE REFORMATION. does not alarm ; he gives consolation only." ! Luther was not destined to remain ludden in an obscure convent. The time was come for his removal to a wider stage. Staupitz, with whom he always remained in close com munication, saw clearly that the young, monk's disposition was too active to be con fined within so narrow a circle. He spoke of him to the Elector Frederick of Saxony: and this enlightened prince invited Luther in 1508, probably about the end of the year, to become professor at the university of Wit temberg. This was the field on which he was to fight many hard battles. Luther felt that his true vocation was there. He was requested to repair to his new post with all speed : he replied to the call without delay, and in the hurry of his removal he had not time to write to him whom he styled his master and well-beloved father, — John Braun, curate of Eisenach. He did so however a few months later. " My departure was so hasty," said he, " that those with whom I was living were almost ignorant of it. I am farther away, I confess : but the better part of me remains with you."2 Luther had been three years in the cloister at Erfurth. CHAPTER V. The University of Wittemberg— First Instructions— Biblical Lectures— Sensation— Luther preaches at Wittemberg— The Old Chapel— Impression produced by his Sermons. In the year 1502, Frederick the Elector founded a new university at Wittemberg. He declared in the charter confirming the privileges of this high school, that he and his people would look to it as to an oracle. At that time he had little thought in how remarkable a manner this language would be verified. Two men belonging to the oppo sition that had been formed against the scho lastic system, — Pollich of Mellerstadt, doctor of medicine, law, and philosophy, and Stau- Eitz — had had great influence in the esta- lishment of this academy. The university declared that it selected St. Augustine for its patron, — a choice that was very signifi cant. This new institution, which possessed great liberty, and which was considered as a court of final appeal in all cases of difficulty, was admirably fitted to become the cradle of the Reformation, and it powerfully contri buted to the development of Luther and of Luther's work. , On his arrival at Wittemberg, he repaired to the Augustine convent, where a cell was allotted to him ; for though a professor, he did not cease to be a monk. He had been 1 Es 1st nlcht Ohristus, denn Ohristus schreckt nicht, 30ndern trostet mir. L. Opp. (W.) xxii. pp. 613, 721. 2 L. Epp. i. P. 5. March 17. 1509. called to teach physics and dialectics. In assigning him this duty, regard had proba bly been paid to the philosophical studies he had pursued at Erfurth, and to the degree of Master of Arts which he had taken. Thus Luther, who hungered and thirsted after the Word of God, was compelled to devote himself almost exclusively to the study of the Aristotelian scholastic philoso phy. He had need of that bread of life which God gives to the world, and yet he must occupy himself with human subtleties. What a restraint ! and what sighs it called forth ! " By God's grace, I am well," wrote he to Braun, " except that I have to study philosophy with all my might. From the first moment of my arrival at Wittemberg, I was earnestly desirous of exchanging it for that of theology ; but," added he, lest it should be supposed he meant the theology of the day, " it is of a theology which seeks the kernel in the nut, the wheat in the husk, the marrow in the bones, that I am speak ing.1 Be that as it may, God is God," con tinues he with that confidence which was the soul of his life ; " man is almost always mistaken in his judgments ; but this is our God. He will lead us with goodness for ever and ever." The studies that Luther was then obliged to pursue were of great service to him, in enabling him in after-years to combat the errors of the schoolmen. But he could not stop there. The desire of his heart was about to be accomplished. That same power, which some years before had driven Luther from the bar into a mo nastic life, was now impelling him from- phi losophy towards the Bible. He zealously applied himself to the acquisition of the ancient languages, and particularly of Greek and Hebrew, in order to draw knowledge and learning from the very springs whence they gushed forth. He was all his life inde fatigable in labour.2 A few months after his arrival at the university, he solicited the degree of bachelor of divinity. He obtained it at the end of March 1509, with the parti cular summons to devote himself to biblical theology, — ad Biblia. Every day, at one in the afternoon, Lather was called to lecture on the Bible : a pre cious hour both for the professor and his. pupils, and which led them deeper and deeper into the divine meaning of those reve lations so long lost to the people and to the schools ! He began his course by explaining the Psalms, and thence passed to the Epistle to the Romans. It was more particularly while meditating on this portion of Scripture, that the light of truth penetrated his heart. In the retirement of his quiet cell, he used to consecrate whole hours to the study of the 1 Theologia qu» nnoleum nncis, et medullam tritlci. et medullam osslum scrutatur. L. Epp. i. 6. 2 In studiis Uterarum, corpore ac mente lnaefesBUS, Poliaviclni, Hist. Cone. Trident. 1. 16 65 » D'AUBIGNE'S HISTORY OF THE REFORMATION. Divine Word, this epistle of, St. Paul lying open before him. On one occasion, having reached the seventeenth verse of the first chapter, he read this passage from the pro phet Habakkuk : The just shall live by faith. This precept struck him. There is then for the just a life different from that of other men : and this life is the gift of faith. This promise, which he received into his heart, as if God himself had placed it there, unveils to him the mystery of the christian life, and increases this life in him. Years after, in the midst of his numerous occupations, he imagined he still heard these words : The just shall live by faith.1 ,Luther's lectures thus prepared had little similarity with what had been heard till then. It was not an eloquent rhetorician or a pedan tic schoolman that spoke ; but a Christian who had felt the power of revealed truths, — who drew them forth from the Bible, — poured them out from the treasures of his heart, — and presented them all full of life to his astonished hearers. It was not the teaching of a man, but of God. This entirely new method of expounding the truth made a great noise ; the news of it spread far and wide, and attracted to the newly established university a crowd of youthful foreign students. Even many pro fessors attended Luther's lectures, and among others Mellerstadt, frequently styled the light of the world, first rector of the univer sity, who already at Leipsic, where he had been previously, had earnestly combated the ridiculous instructions of scholasticism, had denied that "the light created on the first day was Theology," and had maintained that the study of literature should be the founda tion of that science. " This monk," said he, " will put all the doctors to shame ; he will bring in a, new doctrine, and reform the whole church ; for he builds upon the Word of Christ, and no one in the world can either resist or overthrow that Word,, even should he attack it with all the arms of philosophy, of the sophists, Scotists, Al- bertists, Thomists, and with all the Tar- taretus."2 Staupitz, who was the instrument of God to develop all the gifts and treasures hidden in Luther, requested him to preach in the church of the Augustines. The young pro fessor shrunk from this proposal. He desired to confine himself to his academical duties, he trembled at the thought of increasing them by those of the ministry. In vain did Staupitz solicit him : " No ! no !" replied be, " it is no slight thing to speak before men in the place of God." 3 What affecting hu mility in this great reformer of the Church ! Staupitz persisted ; but the ingenious Luther, says one of his biographers, found fifteen 1 Seckend., p. 55. a Melch. Adam. Vita Lutheri, 104.— The Tartaretttt, 8er- mnnee Dieeipuli, and Dorm* secure, were favourite works with the scholastic divines in the Middle Ages. 3 Fabrlcius centifol. Luth. 33.— Math. 6. arguments, pretexts, and evasions to defend himself against this invitation. At length, the chief of the Augustines persevering in his attack, Luther said : " Ah, doctor, by doing this you deprive me of life. I shall not be able to hold out three months." — " Well ! so be it in God's name," replied the vicar-general, " for our Lord God has also need on high of devoted and skilful men." Luther was forced to yield. In the middle of the square at Wittemberg stood an ancient wooden chapel, thirty feet long and twenty wide, whose walls propped up on all sides were falling into ruin. An old pulpit made of planks, and three feet high, received the preacher. It was in this wretched place that the preaching ofthe Re formation began. It was God's will that that which was to restore his glory should have the humblest beginnings. The foundations of the new Augustine Church had just been laid, and in the meanwhile this miserable place of worship was made use of. " This building," adds Myconius, one of Luther's contemporaries, who records these circum stances, " may well be compared to the stable in which Christ was born. It was in this wretched enclosure, that God willed, so to speak, that his well-beloved Son should be bom a second time. Among those thousands of cathedrals and parish churches with which the world is filled, there was not one at that time which God chose for the glorious preach ing of eternal life." Luther preaches : every thing is striking in the new minister. His expressive countenance, his noble air, his clear and sonorous voice, captivate all his hearers. Before his time, the majority of preachers had sought rather, what might amuse their congregation, than what would convert them. The great seri ousness that pervaded all Luther's sermons, and the joy with which the knowledge of the Gospel had filled his heart, imparted to -his eloquence an authority, a warmth, and an unction that his predecessors had not pos sessed. " Endowed with a ready and lively genius," says one of his opponents,1 " with a good memory, and employing his mother- tongue with wonderful facility, Luther was inferior to none of his contemporaries in elo quence. Speaking from the pulpit, as if he were agitated by some violent emotion, suit ing the action to his words, he affected his hearers' minds in a surprising manner, and carried them like a torrent wherever he pleased. So much strength, grace, and elo quence are rarely found in these children of the North."— "He had," says Bossuet, " a lively and impetuous eloquence that charmed and led away the people."2 Soon the little chapel could not hold the' hearers who crowded to it. The council of Wittemberg then nominated Luther their fifi 1 Florimond Raymond, Hist. Hares., cap. «. * Hist, des Variations, L D'AUBIGNE'S HISTORY OF THE REFORMATION. chaplain, and invited him to preach in the city church. The impression he there pro duced was greater still. The energy of his genius, the eloquence of his style, and the excellency of the doctrines that he pro claimed, equally astonished his hearers. His reputation extended far and wide, and Frede rick the Wise himself came once to Wittem berg to hear him. This was the beginning of a new life for Luther. The slothfulness of the cloister had been succeeded by great activity. Freedom, labour, the earnest and constant action to which he could now devote himself at Wittemberg, succeeded in re-establishing harmony and peace within him. Now he was in his place, and the work of God was soon to display its majestic progress. CHAPTER VI. Journey to Rome— Convent on the Po— Sickness at Bologna — Recollections of Rome— Julius II.— Superstitious Devo. tion— Profanity of the clergy— Conversations— Roman Scandals— Biblical Studies— Pilate's Staircase— Effects on Luther's Faith and on the Reformation— Gate of Paradise — Luther's Confession. Luther was teaching both in the academical hall and in the church, when he was inter rupted in his labours. In 1510, or according to others in- 1511 or 1512, he was sent to Rome. Seven convents of his order were at variance on certain points with the vicar- general. l The acuteness of Luther's mind, his powerful language, and his talents for discussion, were the cause of his selection as agent for these seven monasteries before the pope.2 This divine dispensation was neces sary for Luther. It was requisite that be should know Rome. Full of the prejudices and delusions of the cloister, be had always imagined it to be the abode of sanctity. He set out and crossed the Alps._ But he had scarcely descended into the plains of the rich and voluptuous Italy, before he found at every step subjects of astonishment and scandal. The poor German monk was enter tained, in a wealthy convent of the Benedic- tinesfon the banks of the Po, in Lombardy. The revenues of this monastery amounted to 36,000 ducats; 12,000 were devoted to the table, 12,000 were set apart for the buildings, and the remainder for the wants of the monks.3 The splendour of the apartments, the richness of their dress, and the delicacy of their food, confounded Luther. Marble, silk, luxury in all its forms — what a novel sight for the •humble brother of the poor convent of Wittemberg ! He was astonished and was l Quod septem conventus a vicario in qttibusdam dissen- tlrent. Cocnlceus.2. 2 Quod esset acer lngenio et ad contradlcendum audax et vehemens. Ibid. > L. Opp. W.) nil. 1468. silent ; but when Friday came, what was his surprise at seeing the Benedictine table groaning under a load of meat. Upon this he resolved to speak. " The Church and the pope," said he, "forbid such things." The r Benedictines were irritated at this reprimand of the unpolished German. But Luther having persisted, and perhaps threatened to make their irregularities known, some thought the simplest course would be to get rid of their importunate guest. The porter of the convent forewarned him of the danger he incurred by a longer stay. He accordingly quitted this epicurean monastery, and reached Bologna, where he fell dangerously ill.1 Some have attributed this to the effects of poison ; but it is more reasonable to suppose that the change of diet affected the frugal monk of Wittemberg, whose usual food was bread and herrings. This sickness was not to be unto death, but to the glory of God. He again relapsed into the sorrow and de jection so natm'al to him, To die thus, far from Germany, under this burning sky, and in a foreign land — what a sad fate! The distress of mind that he had felt at Erfurth returned with fresh force. The sense of his sinfulness troubled him ; the prospect of God 's judgment filled him with dread. But at the very moment that these terrors had reached their highest pitch, the words of St. Paul, that had already struck him -at Wittemberg, The just shall live by faith, recurred forcibly to his memoiy, and enlightened his soul like a ray from heaven. Thus restored and com forted, he soon regained his health, and resumed his journey towards Rome, expect ing to find there a very different manner of life from that of the Lombard convents, and impatient to efface, by the sight_ of Roman holiness, the melancholy impressions left on his mind, by his sojourn on the banks of the' Po. At length, after a toilsome journey under a burning Italian sun, at the beginning of summer, he drew near the seven-hilled city. His heart was moved within him : his eyes sought after the queen of the world and of the Church. As soon as he discovered the eternal city in the distance, — the city of St. Peter and St. Paul,— the metropolis of Catho licism,— he fell on his knees, exclaiming, "Holy Rome, I salute thee!" Luther is in Rome : the Wittemberg pro fessor stands in the midst of the eloquent ruins of consular and imperial Rome — of the Rome of so many martyrs and confessors of Jesus Christ. Here had lived that Plautus and that Virgil whose works he had carried with him into the cloister, and all those great men at whose history his heart had so often beat with emotion. He beholds their stataes— the ruins of the monuments that bear witness to their glory. But all that glory— all that power has fled; his teet l Matth. Dreswr. Hist, Lutheri. 67 D'AUBIGNE'S HISTORY OF THE REFORMATION. trample on their dust. At each step he calls to mind the sad presentiments of Scipio shedding tears as he looked upon the ruins — the burning palaces and tottering walls of Carthage, and exclaimed, " Thus will it one day be with Rome ! " " And in truth," said Luther, " the Rome of the Seipios and Caesars has become a corpse. There are such heaps of rubbish that the foundations of the houses are now where once stood the roofs. It is there," added he, as he threw a melancholy glance over these ruins, " it is there that once the riches and the treasures of the world were gathered together."1 All these fragments, against which his feet stumble at every step, proclaim to Luther within the very walls of Rome, that what is strongest in the eyes of man may be easily destroyed by the breath of the Lord. But with these profane ashes are mingled other and holier ones : he recals them to mind. The burial-place of the martyrs is not far from that of the generals of Rome and of her conquerors. Christian Rome with its sufferings has more power over the heart of the Saxon monk than pagan Rome with all its glory. Here that letter arrived in which Paul wrote, The just shall live by faith. He is not far from Appii Forum and the Three Taverns. Here is the house of Narcissus — there the palace of Caisar, where the Lord delivered the Apostle from the jaws of the lion. Oh, how these recollections strengthen the heart of the monk of Wittemberg ! But Rome at this time presented a very different aspect. The warlike Julius II. filled the papal chair, and not Leo X., as some distinguished German historians have said, doubtless through inattention. Luther has often related a trait in the character of this pope. When the news reached him that his army had been defeated by the French before Ravenna, he was repeating his daily prayers : he flung away the book, exclaim ing with a terrible oath : " And thou too art become a Frenchman Is it thus thou dost protect thy Church ? " Then turn ing in the direction of the country to whose arms he thought to have recourse, he added : " Saint Switzer, pray for us!"2 Ignorance, levity, and dissolute manners, a profane spirit, a contempt for all that is sacred, a scandalous traffic in divine things— such was the spectacle afforded by this unhappy city. Yet the pious monk remained for some time longer in his delusions. Having arrived about the period of the feast of St. John, he heard the Romans re peating around him a proverb current among them : " Happy the mother whose son per forms mass on St. John's eve ! " — " Oh, how should I rejoice to render my mother happy ! " said Luther to himself. Margaret's pious son endeavoured to repeat a mass on that 1 L. Opp. (W.) xxil. 2371, 2377. J Sancte Swlzere ! ora pro nobis. Ibid. 1311, 1332. 68 day ; but he could not, the throng was too great. 1 Fervent and meek, he visited all the churches and chapels ; he believed in all the falsehoods that were told him ; he devoutly performed all the holy practices that were required there, happy in being able to execute so many good works from which his fellow- countrymen were debarred. " Oh I how I regret," said the pious German to himself, " that my father and mother are still alive ! What pleasure I should have in delivering them from the fire of purgatory by my masses, my prayers, and by so many other admirable works!"2 He had found the light ; but the darkness was far from being entirely expelled from his understanding. His heart was converted ; his mind was not yet enlightened : he had faith and love, but he wanted knowledge. It was no trifling matter to emerge from that thick night which had covered the earth for so many centuries. Luther several times repeated mass at Rome. He officiated with all the unction and dignity that such an action appeared to him to require. But what affliction seized the heart of the Saxon monk at witnessing the sad and profane mechanism of the Roman priests, as they celebrated the sacrament of the altar ! These on their part laughed at his simplicity. One day when he was officiating he found that the priests at an adjoining altar had already repeated seven masses before he had finished one. " Quick, quick ! " cried one of them, " send our Lady back her Son ; " making an impious allusion to the transubstantiation of the bread into the body and blood of Jesus Christ. At an other time Luther had only just reached the Gospel, when the priest at his side had already terminated the mass. " Passa, passa!" cried the latter to him, " make haste ! have done with it at once."3 His astonishment was still greater, when he found in the dignitaries of the papacy what he had already observed in the inferior clergy. He had hoped better things of them. It was the fashion at the papal court to attack Christianity, and you could not pass for a well-bred man, unless you entertained some erroneous or heretical opinion on the doctrines of the Church.* They had en deavoured to convince Erasmus, by means of certain extracts from Pliny, that there was no difference between the souls of men and of beasts;5 and some of the pope's youthful courtiers maintained that the orthodox faith was the result pf the crafty devices of a few saints.8 ,>? J /.. I Jjj10p'>- (w> Dedication of Ps. 117. rol. vl. L. g. »Ii. Opp. (W.) xix. von der Winkelmesse. Mathesius, ••It1™ a,Ie! tftP° ¦">" Pareva fosse galantuomo e buon cor- teeiano colui che de dogmi della chiesa non aveva qualcho opinion erronea ed heretica. Caracclola, Vit. MS. Paul IV.. quoted by Ranke. J Burlgny, Vie d'Erasme, i. 139. i E medio Romans curia!, sectam juvenum. . . .qui asaere- v D'AUBIGNE'S HISTORY OF THE REFORMATION. Luther's quality of envoy from the German Augustines procured him invitations to numerous meetings of distinguished eccle siastics. One day, in particular, he was at table with several prelates, who displayed openly before him their buffoonery and im pious conversation, and1 did not scruple to utter in his presence a thousand mockeries, thinking, no doubt, that he was of the same mind as themselves. Among other things, they related before the monk, laughing and priding themselves upon it, how, when they were repeating mass at the altar, instead of the sacramental words that were to trans form the bread and wine into the flesh and blood of our Saviour, they pronounced over the elements this derisive expression : Panis es, et panis manebis ; vinum es, et vinum mane- bis. l Then, continued they, we elevate the host, and all the people bow down and wor- . ship it. Luther could hardly believe his ears. His disposition, although full of animation and even gaiety in the society of friends, was remarkably serious whenever sacred matters were concerned. The mockeries of Rome were a stumbling-block to him. " I was," said he, " a thoughtful and pious young monk. Such language grieved me bitterly. If 'tis thus they speak at Rome, freely and publicly at the dinner-table, thought I to myself, what would it be if their actions cor responded to their words, and if all— pope, cardinals, and courtiers — thus repeat the mass ! And how they must have deceived me, who have heard them read devoutly so great a number ! "2 Luther often mixed with the monks and citizens of Rome. If some few extolled the pope and his party, the majority gave a free course to their complaints and to their sar casms. What stories had they not to tell about the reigning pope, or Alexander VI., or about so many others ! One day his Ro man friends related how Csesar Borgia, hav ing fled from Rome, was taken in Spain. As they were going to try him, he called for mercy, and asked for a confessor to visit him in his prison. A monk was sent to him, whom he slew, put on his hood, and escaped. " I heard that at Rome ; and it is a positive fact," says Luther.3 Another day, passing down a wide street leading to St. Peter's, he haltedin astonishment before a stone statue, representing a pope under the figure of a woman, holding a sceptre, clothed in the papal mantle, and carrying a child in her arms. It is a young woman of Mentz, he was told, whom the cardinals elected pope, and who was delivered of a child opposite this place. No pope, therefore, passes along that street. " I am surprised," says Luther, bant, nostram fidem orthodoxam potlus quibuBdam sanc torum astutiis subsistere. Paul Canensius, Vita Pauli II. l Bread thou art, and bread l lion shalt remain ; wine thou art. and wine thou shalt remain. 2- Luth. Opp. (W.) xix. von der Wlnkelmeaae. 3 Das habe Ich zu Rom fur gevvisa gehdrt. Luth. Opp. (W.)xxli. 1322, 69 " that the popes allow such a statue to remain." 1 Luther had thought to find the edifice of the Church encompassed with splendour and strength, but its doors were broken down, and the walls damaged by fire. He witnessed the desolation of the sanctuary, and drew back with horror. All his dreams had been of holiness, — he had discovered nought but profanation. The disorders without the churches were not less shocking to him. " The police of Rome is very strict and severe," said he. " The judge or captain patrols the city every night on horseback with three hundred fol lowers ; he arrests every one that is found in the streets : if they meet an armed man, he is hung, or thrown into the Tiber. And yet the city is filled with disorder and murder ; whilst in those places where the Word of God is preached uprightly and in purity, peace and order prevail, without calling for the severity of the law."2 — " No one can ima gine what sins and infamous actions are committed in Rome," said he at another time ; " they must be seen and heard to be believed. Thus, they are in the habit of say ing, If there is a hell, Rome is built over it : it is an abyss whence issues every kind of sin."3 This spectacle made a deep impression even then upon Luther's mind; it was in creased erelong. " The nearer we approach Rome, the greater number of bad Christians we meet with," said he, many years after. " There is a vulgar proverb, that he who goes to Rome the first time, looks out for a knave ; the second time, he finds him ; and the third, he brings him away with him. But people are now become so clever, that they make these three journeys in one."4 Machiavelli, one of the most profound ge niuses of Italy, but also one of unenviable notoriety, who was living at Florence when Luther passed through that city on his way to Rome, has made the same remark : " The strongest symptom," said he, " of the ap proaching ruin of Christianity (by which he means Roman-catholicism) is, that the nearer people approach the capital of Christendom, the less Christian spirit is found in them. The scandalous examples and the crimes of the court of Rome are the cause why Italy has lost every principle of piety and all reli gious feeling. We Italians," continues this great historian, " are indebted principally to the Church and the priests for having become impious and immoral."6 Luther, somewhat later, was sensible of the very great import ance of this journey. " If they would give me one hundred thousand florins," said i Es niramt mlch wunder, das die PSbste solches Bild leiden konnen. Luth. Opp. (W.) xxu. 1320. 2 L. Opp. (W.) xxil. 2376. , 3 1st irgend eine Hcelle, so muss Romdarauf gebaut seyn. Luth. Opp. (W.) xxil. 2377. 4 Address to the Christian Nobles of Germany. s Dissert, on the 1st Dec. of Livy. he, " I would not have missed seeing Rome!"1 This visit was also very advantageous to him in regard to learning. Like Reuchlin, Luther took advantage of his residence in Italy to penetrate deeper into the meaning of the Holy Scriptures. He took lessons in Hebrew from a celebrated rabbi, named Elias Levita. It was at Rome that he partly ac quired that knowledge of the Divine Word, under the attacks of which Rome was des tined to fall. But this journey was most important to Luther in another respect. Not only was the veil withdrawn, and the sardonic sneer, the mocking incredulity which lay concealed behind the Romish superstitions revealed to the future reformer, but the living faith that God had implanted in him was there power fully strengthened. We have seen how he at first gave himself up to all the vain observances which the Church enjoined for the expiation of sin. One day, among others, wishing to obtain an indulgence promised by the pope to all who should ascend on their knees what is called Pilate's Staircase, the poor Saxon monk was humbly creeping up those steps, which he was told had been miraculously transported from Jerusalem to Rome. But while he was performing this meritorious act, he thought he heard a voice of thunder cry ing from the bottom of his heart, as at Wit temberg and Bologna, The just shall live by faith. These words, that twice before bad struck him like the voice of an angel from God, resounded unceasingly and powerfully within him. He rises in amazement from the steps up which he was dragging his body : he shudders at himself ; he is ashamed of seeing to what a depth superstition had plunged him. He flies far from the scene of his folly.2 This powerful text has a mysterious influ ence on the life of Luther. It was a creative sentence both for the reformer and for the Reformation. It was in these words God then said, Let there be light ! and there was light. It is frequently necessary for a truth to be presented many times to our minds in order that it may produce the due effect. Luther had profoundly studied the Epistle to the Romans, and yet the doctrine of justification by faith there taught had never appeared so clear to him. Now he comprehends that righteousness which alone can stand before God ; now he receives for himself from the hand of Christ that obedience which God of his free gift imputes to the sinner, as soon as he raises his eyes with humility to the cruci fied Son of Man. This was the decisive epoch of Luther's inner lifo. That faith which had saved him from the terrors of death, became the very soul of his theology, l 100,000 Gulden.— L. Opp. (W.) xxil. 2374 2 Seckendorf, p. 56. his stronghold in every danger; the prin ciple which gave energy to his preaching and strength to his charity ; the foundation of his peace, the encouragement to his la bours, his comfort in life and in death. But this great doctrine of a salvation pro ceeding from God and not from man, was not only the power of God to save Luther's soul ; it became in a still greater degree the power of God to reform the Church : — an effectual weapon wielded by the apostles, — a weapon too long neglected, but taken at last, in all its primitive brightness, from the arsenal of the omnipotent God. At the very moment when Luther uprose from his knees on Pilate's Staircase, in agitation and amaze ment at those words which Paul had ad dressed fifteen centuries before to the inha bitants of that metropolis, — Truth, till then a melancholy captive, and fettered in the Church, uprose also to fall no more. We should here listen to what Luther himself says on the matter. " Although I was a holy and blameless monk, my con science was nevertheless full of trouble and anguish. I could not endure those words — the righteousness of God. I had no love for that holy and just God who punishes sinners. I was filled with secret anger against him : I hated him, because, not content with fright ening by the law and the miseries of life us wretched sinners, already ruined by original sin, he still further increased our tortures by the Gospel But when, by the Spirit of God, I understood these words, — when I learnt how the justification of the sinner proceeds from the free mercy of our Lord through faith,1 then I felt born again like a new man ; 1 entered through the open doors into the very paradise of God.2 Hencefor ward, also, I saw the beloved and Holy Scriptures with other eyes. I perused the Bible, — I brought together a great number of passages that taught me the nature of God's work. And as previously f had de tested with all my heart these words, — The righteousness of God, I began from that hour to value them and to love them, as the sweetest and most consoling words in the Bible. In very truth, this language of St. Paul was to me the true gate of Paradise." Thus when he was called on solemn oc casions to confess this doctrine, Luther always recovered his enthusiasm and rough energy. " I see," observed he at an import ant moment,3 " that the devil is continually attacking this fundamental article by means of his doctors, and that in this respect he can never cease or take any repose. Well then, I Doctor Martin Luther, unworthy herald of the Gospel of our Lord Jesus Christ, eontess this article, that faith alone without LatQrn1p™f?:>e"Smlsericors]usUflca' P°rndem....L. Opp. iPsu^alaiKLSriS Sen9i' Ct aPe"iS POrti8 to ' Comment on the Imperinl Edict, 1631. L. Opp. (L.) vol. 70 D'AUBIGNE'S HISTORY OF THE REFORMATION. works justifies before God ; and I declare that it shall stand and remain for ever in despite of the emperor of the Romans, the emperor of the Turks, the emperor of the Tartars, the emperor of the Persians, — in spite of the pope and all the cardinals, with the bishops, priests, monks, and nuns,- — in spite of kings, princes, and nobles, — and in spite of all the world and of the devils themselves ; and that if they endeavour to fight against this truth, they will draw the fires of hell upon their heads. This is the true and holy Gospel, and the declaration of me, Doctor Luther, according to the teaching of the Holy Ghost There is no one," continues he, " who has died for our sins, if not Jesus Christ the Son of God. I say it once again, should all the world and all the devils tear each other to pieces and burst with rage, that it is not the less true. And if it is He alone that taketh away our sins, it cannot be ourselves and our own works. But good works follow redemption, as the fruit grows on the tree. That is our doctrine — that is what is taught by the Holy Ghost and by all the communion of saints. We hold fast to it in the name of God. Amen !" It was thus Luther found what had been overlooked, at least to a certain degree, by all doctors and reformers, even by the most illustrious of them. It was in Rome that God gave him this clear view of the funda mental doctrine of Christianity. He had gone to the city of the pontiffs for the solu tion of certain difficulties concerning a mo nastic order : he brought away from it in his heart the salvation of the church. CHAPTER VII. Luther Returns to Wittemberg— Made Doctor of Divinity— Carlstadt— Luther's Oath— Principle of the Reformation —Luther's Courage— Early Views of Reformation— The Schoolmen — Spalatin— Renchlin's Quarrel with the Monks. Luther quitted Rome, and returned to Wit temberg : bis heart was full of sorrow and indignation. Turning his eyes with disgust from the pontifical city, he directed them with hope to the Holy Scriptures — to that new life which the Word of God seemed then to promise to the world. This word increased in his heart by all that the Giurch lost. He separated from the one to cling to the other. The whole of the Reformation was in that one movement. It set God in the place of the priest. Staupitz and the elector did not lose sight of the monk whom they had called to the university of Wittemberg. It appears as if the vicar-general had a presentiment of the work that was to be done in the world, and 71 that, finding it too difficult for himself, he wished to urge Luther towards it. There is nothing more remarkable, — nothing, perhaps, more mysterious than this person, who is seen every where urging forward Luther in the path where God calls him, and then going to end his days sadly in a cloister. The preaching of the young professor had made a deep impression on the prince ; he had ad mired the strength of his understanding, the foreibleness of his eloquence, and the excel lency of the matters that he expounded. J The elector and his friend, desirous of ad vancing a man of such great promise, re solved that he should take the high degree of doctor of divinity. Staupitz repaired to the convent, and took Luther into the garden, where, alone with him under a tree that Luther in after-years delighted to point out to his disciples, 2 the venerable father said to him : " My friend, you must now become Doc tor of the Holy Scriptures." Luther shrunk at the very thought : this eminent honour startled him. " Seek a more worthy person," replied he. " As for me, I cannot consent to it." The vicar-general persisted : " Our Lord God has much to do in the Church : he has need at this time of young and vigorous doctors." These words, adds Melancthon, were perhaps said playfully, yet the event corresponded with them ; for generally many omens precede all great revolutions. 3 It is not necessary to suppose that Melancthon here speaks of miraculous prophecies. The most incredulous age — that which preceded the present one — saw an exemplification of this remark. How many presages, without there being any thing miraculous in them, announced the revolution in which it closed ! " But I am weak and sickly," replied Luther. " I have not long to five. Look out for some strong man." — " The Lord has work in heaven as well as on earth," replied the vicar-general : " dead or alive, He has need of you in his council." * " It is the Holy Ghost alone that can make a doctor of divinity, "5 then urged the monk still more alarmed. — " Do what your convent requires," said Staupitz, "and what I, your vicar-general, command ; for you have pro mised to obey us." — " But my poverty," re sumed the brother : " I have no means of defraying the expenses incidental to such a promotion." — " Do not be uneasy about that," replied his friend : " the prince has done you the favour to take all the charges upon him self." Pressed on every side, Luther thought it his duty to give way. It was about the end of the summer of 151 2 1 Vim ingenii, nervos orationls, ac rerum bonitatem ex- posltarum in concionibus admiratus iuerat. Melancth. Vita Luth. j j i . 2 Unter einem Bauni, den er mir und andern gezeigt. Math. p. 6. . .... T .. 3 Multa praicedunt mulationes prresagla. Vita Luth. 4 Ihr lebet nun Oder sterbet, so dnrff euch Gott in seinem Rathe. Mathes. p. 6. 5 Neminem nisi Spiritum Sanctum creare posse doctorem theologiaa. Weismanni Hist. Eccl. i. 1404. D'AUBIGNE'S HISTORY OF THE REFORMATION. that Luther set out for Leipsic to receive from the elector's treasurers the money neces sary for his promotion. But according to court custom, the money did not arrive. The brother growing impatient wished to depart, but monastic obedience detained him. At length, on the 4th October, he received fifty florins from Pfeffinger and John Doltzig. In the receipt which he gave them, he employs no other title than that of monk. " I, Martin," wrote he, " brother ofthe order of Hermits." l Luther hastened to return to Wittemberg. Andrew Bodenstein of the city of Carlstadt was at that time dean of the theological faculty, and it is by the name of Carlstadt that this doctor is generally known. He was also called A. B. C. Melancthon first gave him this designation on account of the three initials of his name. Bodenstein acquired in his native country the first elements of learn ing. He was of a serious and gloomy cha racter, perhaps inclined to jealousy, and of a restless temper, but full of desire for know ledge, and of great capacity. He frequented several universities to augment his stores of learning, and studied theology at Rome. On his return from Italy, he settled at Wittem berg, and became doctor of divinity. " At this time," he said afterwards, " I had not yet read the Holy Scriptures." 2 This remark gives us a very correct idea of what theology then was. Carlstadt, besides his functions of professor, was canon and archdeacon. Such was the man who in after-years was destined to create a schism in the Reforma tion. At this time he saw in Luther only an inferior ; but the Augustine erelong be came an object of jealousy to him. " I will not be less great than Luther," said he one day. 3 Very far from anticipating at that period the great destinies of the young pro fessor, Carlstadt conferred on his future rival the highest dignity of the university. On the 18th October 1512, Luther was re ceived licentiate in divinity, and took the following oath : "I swear to defend the evangelical truth with all my might." 4 On the day following, Bodenstein solemnly con ferred on him, in the presence of a numerous assembly, the insignia of doctor of divinity. He was made a biblical doctor, and not a doctor of sentences ; and was thus called to devote himself to the study of the Bible, and not to that of human traditions. 6 He then pledged himself by an oath, as he himself relates, 6 to his well-beloved and Holy Scrip tures. He promised to preach them faith fully, to teach them with purity, to study them all his life, and to defend them, both in disputation and in writing, against all false teachers, so far as God should give him ability. l L. Epp. i. 11. 2 Weismann, Hist. Eccl. p. 1116. 3 Ibid. 4 Juro me veritatem evangellcam virlliter defensurum. s Doctor biblicus and not sententiarlus.— Melancth. « L. Opp. (W,) xvi. 2061.— Mathesius, p. 7. 72 This solemn oath was Luther's call to the Reformation. By imposing on his conscience the holy obligation of searching freely and boldly proclaiming the Christian truth, this oath raised the new doctor above the narrow limits to which his monastic vow would per haps have confined him. Called by the uni versity, by his sovereign, in the name of the imperial majesty and of the see of Rome itself, and bound before God by the most solemn oath, he became from that hour the most intrepid herald of the Word of Life. On that memorable day Luther was armed champion of the Bible. We may accordingly look upon this oath, sworn to the Holy Scriptures, as one of the causes of the revival of the Church. The sole and infallible authority of the Word of God was the primary and fundamental prin ciple of the Reformation. Every reform in detail that was afterwards carried out in the doctrine, morals, or government of the Church, and in its worship, was but a conse quence of this first principle. In these days we can scarcely imagine the sensation pro duced by this elementary and simple but long-neglected truth. A few men of more enlarged views than the common, alone fore saw its immense consequences. Erelong the courageous voices of all the Reformers pro claimed this mighty principle, at the sound of which Rome shall crumble into dust : " The Christians receive no other doctrines than those founded on the express words of Jesus Christ, of the Apostles, and of the ProphetSf No man, no assembly of doctors, has a right to prescribe new ones." Luther's position was changed. The sum mons that he had received became to the reformer as one of those extraordinary calls which the Lord addressed to the Prophets under the Old Covenant, and to the apostles under the New. The solemn engagement that he made produced so deep an impression upon his soul that the recollection of this oath was sufficient, in after-years, to console him in the midst ofthe greatest dangers and of the fiercest conflicts. And when he saw all Europe agitated and shaken by the Word that he had proclaimed ; when the accusa tions of Rome, the reproaches of many pious men, the doubts and fears of his own too sensible heart, seemed likely to makej him hesitate, fear, and fall into despair, — he called to mind the oath that he had taken, and remained steadfast, calm, and full of joy. " I have gone forward in the Lord's name," said he in a critical moment, " and I have placed myself in his hands. His will be done ! Wh° prayed him to make me a doc tor?... If it was He who created me such, let him support me ; or else if he repent of what he has done, let him deprive me of my office. This tribulation, therefore, alarms me not. I seek one thing only, which is to pre serve the favour of God in all that he has called me to do with him." At another time he said : " He who undertakes any tiling without a Divine call, seeks his own glory. But I, Doctor Martin Luther, was forced to become a doctor. Popery desired to stop me in the performance of my duty : but you see what has happened to it, and worse still will befall it. They cannot defend them selves against me. I am determined, in God's name, to tread upon the lions, to trample dragons and serpents under foot. This will begin during my life, and will be accomplished after my death."1 From the period of his oath, Luther no longer sought the truth for himself alone : he sought it also for the Church. Still full of the recollections of Rome, he saw confu sedly before him a path in which he had promised to walk with all the energy of his soul. The spiritual life that had hitherto been manifested only within him, now ex tended itself without. This was the third epoch of his development. His entrance into the cloister had turned his thoughts towards God ; the knowledge of the remission of sins and of the righteousness of faith had eman cipated his soul ; his doctor's oath gave him that baptism of fire by which he became a reformer of the Church. His ideas were soon directed in a general manner towards the Reformation. In an address that he had written, as it would seem, to be delivered by the provost of Lietz- kau at the Lateran council, he declared that the corruption of the world originated in the priests' teaching so many fables and tradi tions, instead of preaching the purls Word of God. The Word of Life, in his view, alone had the power of effecting the spiritual rege neration of man. Thus then already he made the salvation of the world depend upon the re-establishment of sound doctrine, and not upon a mere reformation of manners. Yet Luther was not entirely consistent with him self ; he still entertained contradictory opi nions : but a spirit of power beamed from all his writings ; he courageously broke the bonds with which the systems of the schools had fettered the thoughts of men ; he every where passed beyond the limits within which previous ages had so closely confined him, and opened up new paths. God was with him. The first adversaries that he attacked were those famous schoolmen, whom he had him self so much studied, and who then reigned supreme in all the academies. He accused them of Pelagianism, and forcibly inveighing against Aristotle, the father of the schools, and against Thomas Aquinas, he undertook to hurl them both from the throne whence they governed, the one philosophy, and the other theology.2 " Aristotle, Porphyry, the sententiary di vines (the schoolmen) ," he wrote to Lange, 1 L. Opp.(W.)xxi. 2061. 2 Aristotelem In philosophlcis, Sanctum Thomam in theologicfs, evert endos suceperat. Fallavicini, i. 16. 73 " are useless studies in our days. I desire nothing more earnestly than to unveil to the world that comedian who has deceived the ChcWch by assuming a Greek mask, and to show his deformity to all." 1 In every public discussion he was heard repeating: "The writings of the apostles and prophets are surer and more sublime than all the sophisms and all the divinity of the schools." Such language was new, but men gradually be came used to it. About a year after he was able to write with exultation : " God is at work. Our theology and St. Augustine ad vance admirably and prevail in our univer sity. Aristotle is declining : he is tottering towards his eternal ruin that is near at hand. The lectures on the Sentences produce no thing but weariness. No one can hope for hearers, unless he professes the Biblical theology."2 Happy the university of which such testimony can be given ! At the same time that Luther was attack ing Aristotle, he took the side of Erasmus and Reuchlin against their enemies. He entered into communication with these great men and with other scholars, such as Pirck- heimer, Mutianus, and Hiitten, who belonged more or less to the same party. He also, about this period, formed another friendship that was of great importance through the whole course of his life. There was at that time at the elector's court a person remarkable for his wisdom and his candour : this was George Spalatin. He was born at Spalatus or Spalt in the bishopric of Eichstadt, and had been originally curate of the village of Hohenkir-ch, near the Thuringian forests. He was afterwards chosen by Frederick the Wise to be his secretary, chaplain, and tutor to his nephew, John Frederick, who was one day to wear the electoral crown. Spalatin was a simple- hearted man in the midst of the court : he appeared timid in the presence of great events; circumspect and prudent, like his master, 3 before the ardent Luther, with whom he corresponded daily. Like Staupitz, he was better suited for peaceful times. Such men are necessary : they are like those deli cate substances in which jewels and crystal are wrapped to secure them from the injuries of transport. They seem useless ; and' yet without them all these precious objects would be broken and lost. Spalatin was not a man to effect great undertakings; but he faith fully and noiselessly performed tho task imposed upon him. * He was at first one of the principal aids of his master in collecting those relics of saints, of which Frederick was so long a great admirer. But he, as well as the prince, turned by degrees towards the truth. The faith, which then reappeared jn 1 Perdita studla nostrl Efficull. Epp. I. 15. (8th February 1516.) 2 Ep. 1. 57. (18th May 1517.) „..„,, 3 Secundum senium heri sui. Weismann, Hist. Eccles. i. 4 Fide liter et sine strepitn fungens. Ibid. D'AUBIGNE'S HISTORY OF THE REFORMATION. the Church, did not lay such violent hold upon him as upon Luther : it guided him by slower methods. He became Luther's friend at court ; the minister through whom parsed all matters between the reformer and the princes ; the mediator between the Church and the State. The elector honoured Spalatin with great intimacy : they always travelled together in the same carriage. ' Nevertheless the atmosphere of the court oppressed the good chaplain: he was affected by profound melancholy; he could have desired to quit all these honours, and become once more a simple pastor in the forests of Thuringia. But Luther consoled him, and exhorted him . to remain firm at his post. Spalatin acquired general esteem: princes and learned men showed him the most sincere regard. Eras mus used to say, " I inscribe Spalatin's name not only among those of my principal friends, but still further among those of my most honoured protectors ; and that, not upon paper, but on my heart."2 Reuehlin's quarrel with the monks was then making a great noise in Germany. The most pious men were often undecided what part they should take; for the monks were eager to destroy the Hebrew books in which blasphemies against Christ were to be found. The elector commissioned his chaplain to consult the doctor of Wittemberg on this matter, as his reputation was already great. Here is Luther's answer: it is the first letter he addressed to the court-preacher : — ' ' What shall I say ? These monks pretend to cast out Beelzebub, but it is not by the finger of God. I cease not from groaning and lamenting over it. We Christians are beginning to be wise outwardly, and mad inwardly. 3 There are in every part of our Jerusalem blasphemies a hundred times worse than those of the Jews, and all there are filled with spiritual idols. It is our duty with holy zeal to carry out and destroy these internal enemies. But we neglect that which is most urgent; and the devil himself per suades us to abandon what belongs to us, at the same time that he prevents us from cor recting what belongs to others." CHAPTER VIII. Faith— Popular Declamations— Academic Teaching— Lu ther's Purity of Life— German Theology or Mysticism— The Monk Spenleln— Justificatiorl-by Faith— Luther on Erasmus — Faith and Works— Erasmus— Necessity of Works— Luther's Charity. Luther did not lose himself in this quarrel. A living faith in Christ filled his heart and 1 Qui cum prlncfpe in rheda sive lectico solitus est ferri. Corpus Ileforraatorum, i. 33. J Melch. Ad. Vita Spalat. p. 100. 3 J oris sapere, et dom! desipere. L. Epp. I. 8. 74 his life. " Within my heart," said he, " reigns alone (and it ought thus to reign alone) faith in my Lord Jesus Christ, who is the beginning, middle, and end of all the thoughts that occupy my mind by day and night."1 All his hearers listened with admiration as he spoke, whether from the professor's chair or from the pulpit, of that faith in Jesus Christ. His teaching diffused great light. Men were astonished that they had not earlier acknowledged truths that ap peared so evident in his mouth. " The desire of self-justification," said he, " is the cause of all the distresses of the heart. But he who receives Jesus Christ as a Saviour, enjoys peace ; and not only peace, but purity of heart. All sanctifieation of the heart is a fruit of faith. For faith is a divine work in us, which changes us and gives us a new birth, emanating from God himself. It kills the old Adam in us ; and, by the Holy Ghost which is communicated to us, it gives us a new heart and makes us new men. It is not by empty speculations," he again exclaimed, " but by this practical method that we can obtain a saving knowledge of Jesus Christ."2 It was at this time that Luther preached those discourses on the Ten Commandments that have come down to us under the title of Popular Declamations. They contain errors no doubt ; Luther became enlightened only by degrees. " The path of the just is as the shining light, that shineth more and more unto the perfect day."3 But what truth, simplicity, and eloquence are found in these discourses ! How well can we understand the effect that the new preacher must have produced upon his audience and upon his age ! We will quote but one passage taken from the be ginning. Luther ascends the pulpit of Wittemberg, and reads these words : " Thou shalt have no other gods before me" (Exod. xx. 3). Then turning to the people who crowded the sanc tuary, he says, "All the sons of Adam are idolaters, and have sinned against this first commandment."4 Doubtless this strange assertion startled his hearers. He proceeds to justify it, and the speaker continues : " There are two kinds of idolatry— one external, the other internal. " The external, in which man bows down to wood and stone, to beasts and to the hea venly host. " The internal, in which man, fearful of punishment, or seeking bis own pleasure, does not worship the creature, but loves him in his heart, and trusts in him 1 Prasf. ad Galat. » Prc,onvPfvr.8i88CUl'"i0nCm' ^PMhaMviampractlcam. 4 Omnes fill! Adas sunt ldololatrai. Decern Pnrrenta wit. rh™,'£?T1 popul° !>™