YALE DIVINITY SCHOOL LIBRARY HISTORY CHRISTIAN CHURCH. BY HENRY C. SHELDON, AUTHOR OF "HISTORY OF CHRISTIAN DOCTRINE," AND PROFESSOR IN BOSTON UNIVERSITY. Vol. II. THE MEDIAEVAL CHURCH. NEW YORK: 46 East 14th Street. THOMAS Y. CROWELL & CO. BOSTON: 100 Purchase Street. 1894. Copyright, 1894, By Henry C Sheldon. SHnitorsitrj jirtss: John Wilson and Son, Cambridge, U. S. A. CONTENTS. first Petiob (590-1073). Page INTRODUCTION 3 CHAPTER I. THE BARBARIAN TRIBES 7 CHAPTER II. EXTENSION OF CHRISTIAN TERRITORY BY MISSIONARIES 23 CHAPTER III. LIMITATION OF CHRISTIAN TERRITORY BY MOHAMME DANISM 50 CHAPTER IV. CIVIL PATRONS OF CHRISTIANITY 58 CHAPTER V. CONTROVERSIES 67 iv CONTEXTS. CHAPTER VI. CHURCH CONSTITUTION AND DISCIPLINE. Page I. The Relations between Church and State ... 93 II. The Clergy in General 105 III. The Papacy Ill IV. Discipline 125 CHAPTER VII. WORSHIP AND LIFE 131 Sramti Pertoti (1073-1294). INTRODUCTION 149 CHAPTER I. POLITICAL STATUS OF THE PRINCIPAL COUNTRIES OF EUROPE 151 CHAPTER II. THE PAPAL THEOCRACY AND OTHER FEATURES OF CHURCH CONSTITUTION. I. Gregory VII. and his more immediate Successors . 165 II. Alexander III. and Thomas Becket 191 III. Innocent III 209 IV. The Papacy from Innocent III. to Boniface VIII. . 239 V. Various Features of Church Constitution . . . 248 CHAPTER III. THE CRUSADES 259 CONTENTS. V CHAPTER IV. MONASTICISM. Page I. The Cistercians and their great Representative . 271 II. The Mendicant Orders 237 CHAPTER V. SCHOLASTICISM AND MYSTICISM 302 SHjtrt) Pmco (1294-1517). INTRODUCTION 319 CHAPTER I. CHIEF POLITICAL DEVELOPMENTS 323 CHAPTER II. POPES AND COUNCILS 331 CHAPTER III. REPRESENTATIVES OF CRITICISM AND REFORM .... 380 CHAPTER IV. THE WALDENSES 391 CHAPTER V. JOHN WYCLIFFE AND HIS FOLLOWERS 400 VI CONTENTS. CHAPTER VI. Page JOHN HUSS AND THE HUSSITES 427 CHAPTER VII. THE MYSTICS 460 CHAPTER VIII. SAVONAROLA 473 CHAPTER IX. THE MEDIAEVAL GREEK CHURCH 481 CHAPTER X. MEDIAEVAL HYMNS, ARCHITECTURE, AND PAINTING. I. Hymns 490 II. Architecture 513 III. Painting 522 APPENDIX. I. The Seven Sacraments 541 II. Genuineness of the Famous Bull of Adrian IV. . 544 III. Sorcery and Witchcraft 54,6 IV. Popes and Emperors 54,9 Index 555 FIRST PERIOD. 590-1073. INTRODUCTION. THE stream is apt to imbibe, to some extent, the color of the soil through which it flows. So it has been with historical Christianity. If the life-stream has been divine, the channels have been human. The current has reflected the civilization through which it has passed. Apostolic Christianity, springing up on the soil of Judaism, exhibited, notwithstanding its dis tinctive character, something of a Jewish tinge ; post- apostolic Christianity, in its more speculative attempts, took a coloring from the philosophic thought of the classic systems ; and post-Constantinian Christianity, imbibing the leaven brought in by heathen multitudes suddenly professing conversion, admitted elements af filiating with the common heathenism of the classic world. A deplorable taint of idolatrous superstition was carried forward into the next period. But this is no disproof either of the pure essence of Christianity in itself, or of the providence of God. The Author of Christianity must take such conditions as a world of free agents affords. He cannot be asked to keep the stream, as it flows through earthly soil, free from all mixture of earthliness. He can only be asked to keep 4 THE MEDIAEVAL CHURCH. the stream moving on down through the centuries to wards those better conditions which His power, wisdom, and love may be able progressively to introduce. In the period upon which we now enter, Christianity strikes upon a new soil, goes forward into the midst of a new series of modifying conditions. These may be described by a single comprehensive term, barbarism. The encounter of Christianity with barbarism is the next great phase of history. This encounter, we can readily believe, was no easy one. It was not a station ary barbarism by which Christianity was confronted, — not a passive subject waiting quietly in its own domain to be leavened by the gradual absorption of religious truth. It was rather a moving barbarism, rushing on tumultuously into the domain of Christianity itself. There was no remaining at a distance ; intermingling was unavoidable. The contact was of necessity inti mate, and it might be expected that the modifying influence would be correspondingly apparent. Barbarism in itself is not specially interesting. The curious exhibitions of human nature which it affords may excite and gratify the attention for a time ; never theless, it is comparatively a barren field. But barba rism coming into contact with Christianity, hordes of rude warriors bringing their spears and battle-axes into the presence of the cross, men of the forest crossing the threshold of the sanctuary and passing under the shadow of Christian and classic institutions, — in this there is manifest such a crisis in history, such a group of fruitful beginnings, that the most interested atten tion is warranted, and cannot fail of being repaid. Here was laid the foundation of the modern world to INTRODUCTION. 5 which we belong. Both as students of the Christian religion and as students of modern civilization, we can not afford to neglect this era of the juncture of Chris tianity and barbarism, this age of transition, of new departures, of the germs of things to come. We may find much of darkness and confusion, but we shall not find a state of continuous stagnation. There was plenty of movement. A variety of important events claim our attention, such as the migration and conquests of the barbarian tribes, great missionary en terprises, the rise, spread, and encroachments of Mo hammedanism, long-waged and significant controversies like the Iconoclastic, the alliances of Church and State, the opposing claims and mutual usurpations of Church and State, the growth of the papal power, and the con struction, or at least outlining, of the whole framework and enginery of mediseval discipline and worship. THE MEDIEVAL CHURCH. CHAPTER I. THE BARBARIAN TRIBES. AS if called of God to hasten toward the risen light of Christianity, the nations of the North and the East began to press toward the Roman Empire. Even before the OhristiaiTera, there were premonitions of the coming inundation. A fearful one was that which occurred a little more than a century before the birth of Christ, when the Cimbrians and Teutons appalled the veterans of Rome with their wild battle-cries and gigantic forms, annihilated army after army, and first met with a check upon the soil of Italy and at the hands of such a general as Marius. Half a century later, Julius Csesar found it an arduous task to drive the German invaders from Gaul. In the time of Marcus Aurelius, aggressive movements on a large scale were again inaugurated. From that time the threatening cloud was never off the horizon of the Roman world, and ofttimes sent forth tokens of its destructive energy. The bulk of the invading tribes was of the same 8 THE MEDIAEVAL CHURCH. general stock, the Germanic. A glance at their native characteristics will be appropriate before giving an ac count of their inroads upon Christian territory. The description of a contemporary is provided in the writ ings of Tacitus. A wish to rebuke the corruptions of Roman civilization by contrast with the customs of barbarians may have given color to some items in his account, but in general it may be regarded as trust worthy. He says of the bodily characteristics of the Germans: "A family likeness pervades the whole, though their numbers are so great: eyes stern and blue ; ruddy hair ; large bodies, powerful in sudden exertions, but impatient of toil and labor, least of all capable of sustaining thirst and heat. Cold and hun ger they are accustomed by their climate and soil to endure." Their government concedes a large range to personal liberty. " In the election of kings they have regard to birth ; in that of generals, to valor. Their kings have not an absolute or unlimited power; and their generals command less through the force of authority than of example. If they are daring, adventurous, and conspicuous in action, they procure obedience from the admiration they inspire." In affairs of importance, the whole community of warriors is consulted. They come armed to the assembly. " Then the king, or chief, and such others as are conspicuous for age, birth, mili tary renown, or eloquence, are heard, and gain attention rather from their ability to persuade than their author ity to command. If a proposal displease, the assembly reject it by an inarticulate murmur ; if it prove agree able, they clash their javelins, for the most honorable THE BARBARIAN TRIBES. 9 expression of assent among them is the sound of arms. Before this council, it is likewise allowed to exhibit accusations, and to prosecute capital offences. Punish ments are varied according to the nature of the crime. Traitors and deserters are hung upon trees ; cowards, dastards, and those guilty of unnatural practices, are suffocated in mud under a hurdle." To add a divine sanction to the administration of justice, the visiting of penalties is intrusted to the priests. War is the principal occupation of those having the strength to bear arms. " Nay, they even think it base and spiritless to earn by sweat what they might pur chase by blood. During the intervals of war they pass their time less in hunting than in sluggish repose, divided between sleep and the table. All the bravest of the warriors, committing the care of the house, the family affairs, and the lands to the women, old men, and weaker part of the domestics, stupefy themselves in inaction." Their military equipment is simple, consist ing of spears, missile weapons, and shields. " Their line of battle is disposed in wedges. To give ground, pro vided they rally again, is considered rather as a prudent stratagem, than cowardice. The greatest disgrace that can befall them is to have abandoned their shields. A person branded with this ignominy is not permitted to join in their religious rites, or enter their assemblies ; so that many, after escaping from battle, have put an end to their infamy by the halter." The women vie -with the men in courage, accompany them to the battle-field, meet the fugitives with re proaches, and endeavor to drive them back to the con flict. The men, on their part, entertain a high respect 10 THE MEDIEVAL CHURCH. for their women. " They even suppose somewhat of sanctity and prescience to be inherent in the female sex ; and therefore neither despise their counsels, nor disregard their responses." In their mutual relations, both are honorably distinguished by the virtue of chastity. Polygamy is practised only by a few, whose alliance is solicited on account of their rank. " The matrimonial bond is strict and severe among them. Men and women alike are unacquainted with clandestine correspondence. Adultery is extremely rare among so numerous a people." The most glaring vices of the barbarians are drunk enness and gambling. They consider it no disgrace to pass days and nights, without intermission, in drinking, and frequently pay the penalty of intoxication with bloodshed. " They play at dice, when sober, as a seri ous business ; and that with such a desperate venture of gain or loss, that, when everything else is gone, they set their liberties and persons on the last throw." Tacitus gives us also some account of the religion of the barbarians ; but his information, evidently, was but partial upon this topic. In completing the picture of the early religion of Germany, we need to have recourse to that later elaboration of the Germanic mythology which appears in the Scandinavian Eddas. The system contained in the latter, if not identical at all points with the former, is at least closely akin, and so affords much aid in filling up the gaps in the older accounts. The religion of the Germans appears to have been a polytheism, in which the gods stood in close relation with the powers of nature. Caesar calls attention to this feature in his remark that the Germans acknowl- THE BARBARIAN TRIBES. 11 edge only such gods as are visible, and whose might renders a perceptible aid, such as manifest themselves through the orbs of heaven and the element of fire.1 In their worship of the gods, they were accustomed to discard for the most part both temples and images. Sacred groves took the place of the former, and symbols of the latter. This absence of images, as Wilhelm Miil- ler judges, betokens not so much an approach to high spiritual conceptions, as the stage of indefiniteness in the growth of polytheism. The Scandinavians in later times used images, and their employment seems to have been on the increase among the German tribes when Christianity came across the natural development of their polytheism.2 The good will of the gods was so licited by sacrifices, though the Germans were not spe cially lavish in this kind of tribute. Sometimes human victims were sent to the altar : this was not an unusual fate for prisoners of war. Where the sacrificial rites concerned only a family, they were performed by the father of the household ; where they represented the state or tribe, the priest alone was qualified to act. The priests formed no separate caste ; but as special servants of the gods, and bearers of judicial functions, they commanded no small degree of reverence. Among their deities were Wuotan, Donar, Zio, Fro, Frouwa, and Paltar, corresponding to the Scandinavian Odin, Thor, Tyr, Freyr, Freyja, and Baldur. A con spicuous place was also occupied by Loki, the fire god ; but his honor by no means equalled his prominence, and he is represented as causing unbounded mischief through i Bella Gallorum, vi. 21. 2 Geschichte und System der Altdeutschen Eeligion. 12 THE MEDIEVAL CHURCH. his unprincipled wiles.1 Much account was made, in their mythology, of giants, pygmies, spirits of forests, mountains, and streams. In the oracles of the North, some interesting glimpses are given of barbarian beliefs respecting the beginning and the end of things. First (so their thought ran) there was a wide-reaching, empty chasm. At a later stage, toward the northern end of the abyss was formed a world of darkness and cold ; at the southern end appeared a world of light and fire. Out of the inter mingling of ingredients from these two worlds came life in the shape of the huge being, Ymir, the progenitor of the giants ; and also in the form of the cow, which by licking the ice-blocks disengaged the progenitor of the gods. The body of the slain Ymir supplied the gods with materials for the formation of the earth. From his blood came the sea and all waters ; from his flesh, the soil; from his bones and teeth, mountains and rocks ; from his skull, the dome of the sky ; from his brain, the clouds.2 In the general cast of their cos mogony, we may discern tokens of a vivid impression of the clash and struggle of opposing forces in nature. As, in the first picture of the gods, they are rep resented as confronted by the race of the giants, so in the closing scene of the present dispensation they appear in conflict with mighty and raging foes. The victory now turns against them. All are overpowered, 1 Loki holds a place in a measure analogous to that of the Devil. Still he does not appear such an embodiment of unmixed evil as is de noted by this term. As Grimm contends, the proper notion of devil had no place in Germanic paganism. (Teutonic Mythology, p. 984 in Eng, trans.) 2 Simrock, Handbuch der Deutschen Mythologie. THE BARBARIAN TRIBES. 13 and the earth sinks down in fire and blood. However, the desolation continues only for a space. There rises out of the wreck a purified world, upon which are discerned Baldur, the beloved son of Odin, a few other descendants of the fallen gods, and an innocent human pair. A new dispensation is begun, over which presides an unspeakable being standing above the old genera tion of gods. The account reads almost as if the North men entertained a premonition that the curtain would descend upon their ancient mythology, and faith in a God of supreme and unrivalled dominion take its place. In their conception of the future life awaiting men, these warlike tribes naturally glorified the warrior's virtues. Heaven, as they pictured it, is the abode of the brave and the true, where heroes revel in the alter nate joys of the battle and the feast; hell, with its dark, cavernous depths, and chilling mists, the prison- house of the cowardly and the false. Among the barbarian tribes of the third and fourth centuries we find several confederacies occupying a con spicuous place, such as the Alemanni, the Franks, the Saxons, and the Goths. The Alemanni inhabited the territory between the Rhine and the Danube, in the southwest corner of the Germanic domain. Not content with their bounds, they began in the last half of the third century to make in roads into Gaul, and contested the field with various of the Roman Emperors in the next century. A memo rial of the alarm and distress which they caused to the people of Gaul is seen in the fact that they supplied the name Allemands, by which the French to this day speak of the Germans in general. The conversion of 14 THE MEDIAEVAL CHURCH. this people to Christianity is placed in the sixth century. The Franks, as they came upon the stage of history, were a confederation of several tribes, dwelling along the Lower Rhine. It was in the reign of Gordian (238- 244) that they made their first incursion into Roman territory. " Clothed in the spoils of the bear, the urus, the boar, and the wolf, they looked at a distance like a herd of wild beasts. Each man bore in his right hand a long lance, in the left a buckler ; in his girdle, a two- edged axe, which was their peculiar weapon, and which they either used in hand to hand encounters, or hurled from a distance with unerring precision. In migrating to new homes, they carried their wives and children and rude household goods in rough wagons with great wheels of solid wood, drawn by oxen. The wagons, ranged in a circle, formed a protection to their camp when needful. Again and again, during two centuries, attracted by the rich prey which the towns and villas of the wealthy provincials offered, they repeated their raids ; and again and again the imperial legions defeated them with great slaughter, and chased the survivors out of the empire." But continued pressure overcame the barriers. By the beginning of the fifth century, a con siderable body of the Franks had settled upon the left bank of the Rhine. A century later they were found in possession of a large part of Gaul, and no longer sub sisting as a loose confederation, but united (at least for an interval) under a single rule. The agent of this uni fication was the powerful and grasping Salian prince, Clovis. Under Clovis, the Franks in large part em braced Christianity. They embraced it as might be THE BARBARIAN TRIBES. 15 expected of uncivilized warriors. Clovis himself, while he may have been influenced to some extent by the per suasions of his Christian wife, the Burgundian princess Clotilda, found the decisive argument for the new re ligion upon the battle-field. Being hard pressed by the Alemanni, he appealed to the God of the Christians, and vowed that he would submit to baptism if victory were granted him. His arms were completely suc cessful ; and soon after, with several thousand of his warriors, he received the Christian rites.1 But the bap tismal water seems to have been accompanied by no effectual inward cleansing. Treachery and bloody vio lence marked the course of the new convert. While he is praised in the annals of the time as a champion of the orthodox faith against the Arianism of contiguous tribes, these very annals have offset their own lauda tions, and drawn the marks of an ineffaceable infamy across his name. Many of the successors of Clovis were as remote as he from being examples of Christian living. The court of the Merovingian princes con tinued to present the spectacle of polygamous excess, unrestrained license, intrigue, and assassination. Some of the characters nurtured in this hotbed of corrup tion cannot easily be paralleled for viciousness. If one half is true in the apparently unvarnished story of Gregory of Tours, then Fredegonda will stand in the front rank of the evil women who have combined the cunning of the serpent with the malice of the fury. The Saxons, like the Franks upon their first appear ance, were a confederation of tribes. Their original seat was beyond the Franks, on the Weser and the 1 Gregory of Tours, Historia Francorum, lib. ii. §§ 81, 32. 16 THE MEDIEVAL CHURCH. North Sea. At an early date they began to engage in predatory excursions. Near the middle of the fifth century, together with the Jutes and the Angles (or Engles), they commenced their descent upon England. The conquest advanced slowly, but with great thorough ness. " Field by field, town by town, forest by forest, the land was won. And as each bit of ground was torn away by the stranger, the Briton sullenly with drew from it only to turn doggedly and fight for the next. . . . How slow the work of English conquest was may be seen from the fact that it took nearly thirty years to win Kent alone, and sixty to complete the con quest of Southern Britain, and that the conquest of the bulk of the island was only wrought out after two centuries of bitter warfare." 1 The subject of the introduction of Christianity among the Saxons may conveniently find place in a succeeding chapter. The Goths appeared at the end of the second cen tury, on the Black Sea and the Lower Danube. They were already a very numerous people. Two principal branches were distinguished, the Eastern and the West ern. By the early part of the third century, they had become such an object of dread that Roman Emperors were found willing to purchase peace with them at the expense of tribute. In the third quarter of the same century, they extended their desolating marches into Greece, Macedonia, Asia Minor, and Italy, plundering on their way many famous cities. Again, in the latter part of the fourth century, they began a series of far-reaching invasions. In this instance the primary impulse came from the Huns, a wild race from the up- 1 Green, History of the English People. THE BARBARIAN TRIBES. 17 lands of Asia, ugly in countenance and short in stature, but broad-shouldered, and skilled in horsemanship as men who had spent their lives upon the backs of their steeds. The East Goths were put to rout. The West Goths also were hard pressed, and craved the privilege of crossing the Danube, to find refuge within Roman ter ritory. Ulfilas, the apostle of Christianity among them, carried their request before the Emperor Valens, and obtained a favorable answer. The way, having been once opened, was not easily closed up again. The Goths, finding themselves ungenerously treated and short of supplies, felt no longer obliged to keep the peace, and precipitated a war which overwhelmed Valens. The skill and energy of the great Theodosius availed indeed to confine them within bounds, but not to crush their power. The peace, too, which he was instrumental in establishing, lasted but a short space. .Incited by a dis appointed councillor at Constantinople, the West-Gothic king, Alaric, started upon a plundering expedition (395-396). Greece was ravaged, and its fairest shrines were laid waste. A first incursion of Alaric into Italy was repulsed ; but during his second invasion, the capi tal of the West fell before his assaults (410). Alaric died soon after ; and the Goths, retiring into Gaul, founded a kingdom covering the southwestern part of that province, and extending into Spain. Nearly contemporary with the invasions of Alaric, in roads were made by several tribes akin to the Goths ; namely, Vandals, Suevi, Alani, and Burgundians. The first three of these tribes settled in the Spanish penin sula ; the last, in the territory bordering the Alps and the Upper Rhine. Like the Goths, they embraced Chris- 2 18 THE MEDIEVAL CHURCH. tianity in the form of Arianism. The Burgundians, it is true, may have been instructed for an interval in the Catholic faith ; but as a body they came to espouse Arianism, and adhered to the same till the sixth century. In 429 the Vandals, under their leader, Genseric, crossed into North Africa, and conquered the country. To sever more effectually the bond of connection between Africa and the Roman Empire, they sought to make Arianism completely dominant, and so assailed the Catholics, who refused to be converted, with a severe persecution. In the fourth decade of the sixth century, Belisarius, the renowned general of Justinian, put an end to the Arian rule ; and by the close of the next century, Catholic and Arian alike, throughout the whole region of North Africa, had been overpowered by the Mohammedans. Near the middle of the fifth century, the Huns were again the cause of a great commotion. In an over whelming mass they poured through the region of the Rhine, leaving death and desolation in their track. At the terrible battle of Chalons on the Marne1 (451), they received at the hands of Goths, Franks, and Gauls a severe chastisement, but were not prevented from con tinuing their devastating march. Many cities of Italy shared the fate of those upon the banks of the Rhine. Rome itself seemed exposed to inevitable ruin. But the ruthless chief, who feared no instrument of war, was turned back by a religious dread reinforced by the 1 Thomas Hodgkin remarks on the place of the encounter : " Pos terity has chosen to call it the battle of Chalons, but there is good reason to think that it was fought fifty miles distant from Chalons-sur- Marne, and that it would be more correctly named the battle of Troyes, or, to speak with complete accuracy, the battle of Mery-sur-Seine." (Italy and her Invaders, vol. ii. p. 138.) THE BARBARIAN TRIBES. 19 intercessions of the Pope. " He was admonished," says Gibbon, " by his friends as well as by his enemies, that Alaric had not long survived the conquest of the Eternal City. His mind, superior to real danger, was assaulted by imaginary terrors. The pressing eloquence of Leo, his majestic aspect and sacerdotal robes, excited the venera tion of Attila for the spiritual father of the Christians. The apparition of the two apostles, St. Peter and St. Paul, who menaced the barbarian with instant death if he rejected the prayer of their successor, is one of the noblest legends of ecclesiastical tradition. The safety of Rome might deserve the interposition of celestial beings; and some indulgence is due to a fable Which has been represented by the pencil of Raphael and the chisel of Algardi." 1 Attila retired, and died beyond the Danube soon after. His retreat, however, did not save the Italian capital from the hand of the spoiler. Immediately after his departure, the Arian Vandals from North Africa, bearing hearts less placable than that of the heathen warrior, glutted themselves with the pillage of Rome (455) ; sparing indeed the buildings, but car rying off such treasures as they could gather together in the space of fourteen days. By these repeated strokes of barbarian fury the Ro man Empire in the West was reduced to a feeble and tottering power. It only needed another blow to com plete the downfall. In 476 that blow was given. Odoacer, leader of the German troops in the Roman service, and himself a German, put aside the shadow of 1 Chapter xxxv. See Jordanes, Historia de Getarum sive Gothorum Origine et Rebus Gestis, cap. xlii. (apud Huratori, Rerum Italicarum Scriptores, torn. i.). 20 THE MEDIEVAL CHURCH. the Caesars, which was then holding the imperial scep tre. There was no one now in the West bearing the imperial name, for Odoacer styled himself simply King of Italy. After ruling twelve or thirteen years, Odoacer found himself confronted by a powerful rival, as Theodoric with a great multitude of East Goths pressed forward into Italy. The stout walls of Ravenna enabled him indeed to keep the invaders at bay for several years, but at length he was obliged to succumb. Theodoric ruled as a wise and capable prince, and the Ostrogothic king dom which he founded flourished till the middle of the next century. It was then overthrown by the generals of Justinian, and the exarchate of Ravenna, as a depen dency of the Eastern Empire, was established in its place. A speedy rival of the exarchate appeared in a new swarm of invaders, destined to take a conspicuous part in Italian history, the Lombards. Northern Italy fell a prey to them, and the previous occupants of the soil were reduced to a servile rank. The Lombards came as Arians. The presence of such neighbors was one of the difficulties which faced Gregory the Great as he ascended the papal throne. How different the field of vision here from that which lay before us at the opening era of Christianity ! In stead of a world united under a single rule, and every where displaying the tokens of culture and civilized skill, we have an empire broken into fragments, law giving place to disorder, and deepening shadows of ignorance spreading over broad regions. To be sure, some of the invading tribes were not in a state of sheer barbarism. Contact with the Empire had given them a THE BARBARIAN TRIBES. 21 measure of civilization. Still, on the whole, the new comers were rude successors to Roman rule. An ob server, looking out upon the destruction wrought and the commotions still in progress, could hardly refrain from gloomy reflections over the prospects of the Chris tian religion. The prospects, in truth, had their shadowed side. The rudeness and credulity of barbarism might be ex pected to offer a fine field for the growth of superstition. If contact with classic heathenism had already given to Christianity a certain tinge of polytheism, it might be expected that this phase would not be eliminated, but rather increased, by the tastes of tribes which had been accustomed to a multitude of gods. On various points it might be expected that fantasy would get the better of criticism, and that extravagant views, especially when reinforced by the interests of prominent parties, would command a ready suffrage. It would not be surprising if, under some of the current beliefs and customs of later times, a close scrutiny should discern the image of the old barbaric faith and practice. And this is un doubtedly the case. For example, in some of the me diaeval representations we find unmistakable indications of a transference to the devil of features and doings that were formerly connected with the gods. Legends re specting a league with the devil took shape in certain particulars from the old mythology. " That the devil," says Wilhelm Miiller, " in such legends frequently took the place of the heathen god appears from this, that an offering, particularly of fowls, must be brought to the same at the cross-ways, these old sacrificial sites, in order to obtain his help." The same writer notes many 22 THE MEDIAEVAL CHURCH. later customs which reveal a trace of the old heathen practice. For instance, corresponding to the heathen custom of carrying the god or his symbol around a field in order to make it fruitful, we have the practice of the Christian Germans in carrying around the image or symbol of a saint for the same purpose. But, on the other hand, the outlook may be regarded as containing highly encouraging features. The bar barians were a sturdy race. They brought in a fresh life, and an intense love of personal liberty. Herein was a prophecy of a better ultimate development than could come from a declining civilization, however pol ished and refined. ^The^ bounding life, and zest for per- _gonal liberty, may have wrought destructively at first ; but they were at the same time a pledge that things should not remain at a stand-still, that erelong a con structive work should be begun, thal^freedom in action should be followed by freedom in thougnt, that a vigor- ous canvassing of the whole field of Christianity should finally be undertaken in spite of any and every barrier which tradition and priestcraft might have interposed. In fine, Christianity encountered in the barbarism of these vigorous tribes a less permanent obstacle than it would have met in the inertia of a worn-out civili zation. Under the conditions, the purity of primitive Christianity could probably be reached more speedily through the forests of Germany than along the high ways of Rome. CHAPTER II. EXTENSION OF CHRISTIAN TEEEITOEY BY MISSIONAEIES. IN the latter part of the sixth century, a great mis sionary era was inaugurated. Men taking their lives in their hands began to penetrate the encompass ing circle of heathenism. One field after another was gained; but it was several centuries before Europe as a whole had passed under the dominion of Christianity. The way of victory was at the same time a way of hardship and martyrdom. A conspicuous part in this aggressive movement was taken by the Roman bishop and the monks, the one serving as the patron and the others as the agents of the work. A genuine Christian zeal cannot be denied to either party. At the same time, it must have been perfectly evident to the Roman bishop that his patron age of missions would be a very effectual means of extending his power. Among the monks the most noted evangelists came from the cloisters of Great Britain and Ireland. The latter country won early the praise of exemplary zeal, both for the cause of learning and of missions. As the night of ignorance was deepening in other quarters, the light of a liberal scholarship shone in the Irish cloisters. " At a time when Pope Gregory the Great was obliged 24 THE MEDIEVAL CHURCH. to acknowledge that he was ignorant of Greek, there were ministers in Ireland quite competent to read the New Testament in the original language. In the larger monasteries, the disciples were instructed in mathemat ics and astronomy, as well as in the ancient classics." 1 A striking memorial of the eminent place which Ireland then occupied in the religious world is given in the name, insula sanctorum, with which the land was hon ored. All this, however, is not to be taken as evi dence of any ideal state of society. Alongside of marked exhibitions of learning and piety, there was much of turbulence. Bloody feuds were of frequent occurrence. The first of the pioneers from this field whose labors are recorded was Columba, or Columbkille. He was of royal birth, commanding presence, and effective ad dress. Possessing the generous impulses native to his countrymen, he possessed also, as it would seem, their hot temper. By some it is supposed that he precipi tated a war, and at the instance of the defeated sov ereign was excommunicated by an assembly of clergy. The fact of excommunication is quite certain, since it is mentioned by so admiring a biographer as Adamnan.2 In 563 Columba set out for Scotland. As yet Chris tianity had gained but a part of this country. Ninian, son of a British prince, had made converts, in the early part of the fifth century, among the southern Picts, who dwelt between the Frith of Forth and the Gram pians. There was also a settlement of Scots, who had received Christian teaching, on the west coast. But 1 W. D. Killen, Ecclesiastical History of Ireland. 2 Life of St. Columba, edited by William Reeves. CHRISTIAN MISSIONARIES. 25 the northern Picts were still heathen. With the ap proval of Conall, the King of the Scots, a small island lying off the coast was given to Columba, and made the seat of a cloister destined to stand for centuries as a missionary fortress and training school. This rocky island scarce exceeded three miles in length by one and a half in breadth. In the language of the country it was called Hy. The name Iona, by which it is com monly known, is regarded by Reeves as a corruption of Ioua used as an adjective before insula. By the labors of Columba the Picts were converted, and their king seems to have confirmed the grant which was made by Conall. Though but an abbot in rank, the founder of Iona was really the ecclesiastical sovereign of the adja cent territory. His successors also stood, in point of jurisdiction, above the bishops of the country, — a pecu liar feature in church polity, which will again command our attention. As is apparent from this item, the com munity of Iona, like the early Celtic churches gener ally, had little notion of any supremacy in the Roman bishop. They did not regard themselves as bound to follow the Roman model. Columba died while on his knees at the altar, in the year 597. Authentic history records little concerning him ; still, we shall not be at fault in concluding from the work that he accomplished, and the impression that he made, that he was a man of unusual force of charac ter. Like Patrick, and Martin of Tours, he was a strong personality, and as such received the inevitable tribute of mediaeval admiration, a great throng of legends having the one object of glorifying their hero. The life written by Adamnan, the ninth abbot of Iona, 26 THE MEDIEVAL CHURCH. a century after the death of Columba, makes him the agent in a constant succession of miracles. Even down to the present century, the virtue of the name of Co lumba has continued to be celebrated in the Highlands of Scotland. The Roman Catholic Highlander about to set out upon a journey utters the invocation, " May the servant of Columba of the cell protect and bring me safe home." A small pebble from Iona, called the stone of Icolmkill, is worn as an amulet. At least, such customs were in vogue in the early part of the century.1 In the ninth century the primacy passed from Iona to Dunkeld. In the next century St. Andrews became the ecclesiastical metropolis of Scotland. For an in terval before, as well as after, this transfer, we meet with an order bearing the name of Culdees. They seem to have been quite a conspicuous factor in the Scottish Church till the reign of Malcolm Canmore in the eleventh century, when the marriage of this king with the English princess Margaret prepared the way for the predominance of the English regime. Their name probably signifies " servants of God," the Scottish term Keledei being the equivalent of the Continental Deicolce. Various theories have been entertained as to their origin and characteristics. "It may reasonably be inferred, that the Culdees were generally the successors of the family of Iona and other monastic communities, under a new name, and with a relaxed discipline."2 In certain points they contradicted the very notion of 1 John Jamieson, An Historical Account of the Ancient Culdees of Iona. 2 George Grub, Ecclesiastical History of Scotland. CHRISTIAN MISSIONARIES. 27 monasticism. As is remarked by a learned authority, " The particular Keledean laxity appears to have been, that, precisely like their Irish and Welsh congeners, they gradually lapsed into something like impropriators, mar ried, and transmitting their church endowments as if they had been their own to their children, but retaining, at any rate in most cases, their clerical office ; although the abbots, as, e. g., at Dunkeld and Abernethy, be came in some cases mere lay lords of the church lands thus misappropriated, leaving a prior to be the spiritual superior." l In some quarters the Culdees have been credited with quite a close approximation to primitive Christianity; but it may be doubted whether in the sum total of their beliefs and practices they were much superior to the average Romanism of their time. While thus the surrounding populations were being instructed in Christianity, the Anglo-Saxons were still in the bonds of their heathenism. The intense na tional hatred which the Britons cherished toward them stood in the way of missionary effort from that quarter. Indeed, some of the Britons may have thought of get ting even with their conquerors, as has been charged against them, by leaving them to the hopeless doom of the unbaptized and the unbelieving. But in another quarter the agency for bringing them the gospel mes sage was being prepared. While yet an abbot, the Roman Gregory was led to cherish a strong interest in the Anglo-Saxons. The occasion which first directed his attention to them is thus described by Beda : " It is 1 Haddan and Stubbs, Councils and Ecclesiastical Documents relating to Great Britain and Ireland, vol. ii. pt. i. pp. 175-182. Compare W. F. Skene, Celtic Scotland. 28 THE MEDIEVAL CHURCH. reported that some merchants, having just arrived at Rome, on a certain day exposed many things for sale in the market-place, and abundance of people resorted thither to buy. Gregory himself went with the rest ; and, among other things, some boys were set to sale, their bodies white, their countenances beautiful, and their hair very fine. Having viewed them, he asked, as is said, from what country or nation they were brought; and was told, from the island of Britain, whose inhab itants were of such personal appearance. He again in quired whether those islanders were Christians, or still involved in the errors of paganism ; and was informed that they were pagans. Then fetching a deep sigh from the bottom of his heart, ' Alas ! what pity,' said he, ' that the author of darkness is possessed of men of such fair countenances ; and that, being remarkable for such graceful aspects, their minds should be void of in ward grace.' He therefore again asked what was the name of that nation, and was answered that they were called Angles. 'Right,' said he; 'for they have an angelic face, and it becomes such to be co-heirs with the angels in heaven.' " 1 Once seated upon the papal throne, Gregory im proved his opportunity to give the Christian religion to the people who had so effectually enlisted his sympa thies. In 596 he sent out the. Roman Abbot Augustine, with several companions. Finding that their hearts began to sink within them over the unknown perils of the journey, and of the strange land for which they had started, he revived their courage by his paternal exhortations, and aided them so far as possible by 1 Book i. chap. 1, CHRISTIAN MISSIONARIES. 29 letters of commendation to the princes and nobles of Gaul. A welcome had been prepared for the missionary party by the marriage of Ethelbert, king of Kent, to the Frankish princess Bertha, who came to the English court as a Christian, and was allowed to take with her, as a religious guardian, the Bishop Luidhard. The king received Augustine and his companions with suitable kindness, though taking the precaution to liave the first meeting! in the open air, where he would be less exposec to any instrument of magic which the strangers might have brought, with them. In response to their repre sentations he said, " Your words and promises are very fair ; but as they are new to us, and of uncertain im port, I cannot approve of them so far as to forsake that which I have so long followed with the whole English nation. But because you are come from far into my kingdom, and, as I conceive, are desirous to impart to us those things which you believe to be true, and most beneficial, we will not molest you, but give you favor able entertainment, and take care to supply you with your necessary sustenance ; nor do we forbid you to preach, and gain as many as you can to your religion." 1 Erelong the king added to his courteous reception of the ambassadors of the new faith his personal adhesion to that faith. Great numbers followed his example, insomuch that Augustine is said to have baptized ten thousand on a single occasion. The work of organiza tion kept pace with that of conversion. According to the plan of Gregory, two metropolitan sees were to be constituted, one having its seat at London, and the 1 Beda, i. 25. 30 THE MEDIAEVAL CHURCH. other at York. But neither the Pope nor the mission ary saw this scheme fulfilled. Canterbury took the place of London, and York failed as yet to obtain the metropolitan dignity. Before the death of Augustine, in 605, Christianity had secured a good footing in Kent. There was indeed a reaction to heathenism under the next king, and evidence was given that the number of baptisms was no accurate measure of the genuine con versions. But the lapse was only temporary. The current had set in the direction of the- Christian faith. In Northumberland, as in Kent, a Christian princess served as a forerunner of missionary work. This was Ethelberga, daughter of Ethelbert. On her marriage with King Edwin, she was guaranteed the free use of her religion, and was allowed to retain the Bishop Paulinus. For a time Edwin was proof against all persuasions ; but at length he so far yielded as to call a council of his chief men to consider the question of accepting Christianity. The deliberations of the council showed that there were minds which had become dissatisfied with the old religion. Even Coifi, the chief of the hea then priests, testified against his former faith, alleging that the gods had made manifest their impotence in their failure to aid their most zealous votaries, and ad vising to try the benefits of the new religion. " Another of the king's chief men, approving of his words and exhortations, presently added, ' The present life of man, O king, seems to me, in comparison of that time which is unknown to us, like the swift flight of a sparrow through the room wherein you sit at supper in winter, with commanders and ministers, enjoying the warmth of the fire in the hearth, whilst the storms of CHRISTIAN MISSIONARIES. 31 rain or snow prevail abroad ; the sparrow, I say, flying in at one door, and immediately out at another, whilst he is within, is safe from the wintry storm ; but after a short space of fair weather, he immediately vanishes out of your sight into the dark winter from which he had emerged. So this life of man appears for a short space ; but of what went before, or what is to follow, we are utterly ignorant. If, therefore, this new doctrine contains something more certain, it seems justly to de serve to be followed.' The other elders and king's counsellors, by Divine inspiration, spoke to the same effect." 1 Coming to minds thus prepared, the message of Paulinus could not longer fail of acceptance. " King Edwin," as Beda adds, " with all the nobility of the nation, and a large number of the common sort, re ceived the faith and the washing of regeneration, in the eleventh year of his reign, which is the year of the incarnation of our Lord 627." Triumph, however, was soon mixed with defeat. Penda, the heathen king of Mercia, and the Briton Ceadwalla, combining against Edwin, compassed his downfall. For an interval Nor thumberland fell a prey to anarchy and pillage. The Roman clergy were driven out, and heathenism began to revive. But the valor and wisdom of the good prince Oswald came to the rescue. Anxious to restore the ascendency of Christianity, Oswald appealed to Iona for missionary laborers. Corman, the first who was sent, was lacking in the art of gentle and persua sive address. The Northumbrians answered his auster ity with so much indifference, that he concluded that nothing could reclaim them from their obduracy, and * Beda, ii. 13. 32 THE MEDIAEVAL CHURCH. left the field in disgust. As he made his report to the fraternity, a voice was heard remarking, " It seems to me, brother, that you have been too severe with your unlearned hearers, in that you did not, conformably to the apostolic discipline, give them the milk of more gentle doctrine, till, having been gradually nourished by the word of God, they should be able to receive more advanced teachings, and to practise God's sublimer precepts." 1 All eyes were turned upon the speaker. With unanimous consent he was fixed upon as the proper agent to gain access to the closed hearts of the Anglo-Saxons. The result justified the wisdom of their choice ; for Aidan, as Bishop of Lindisfarne, proved himself a man who was wise to win souls and a faithful shepherd of the sheep. Beda, while he could not for get that Aidan was out of accord with Rome on the time of celebrating Easter, could not at the same time restrain his admiration for the saintly life and character of the man, " his love of peace and charity ; his con tinence and humility ; his mind superior to anger and avarice, and despising pride and vainglory ; his industry in keeping and teaching the heavenly commandments ; his diligence in reading and watching; his authority be coming a priest in reproving the haughty and powerful, and at the same time his tenderness in comforting the afflicted and relieving the poor." 2 Among the success ors of Aidan, Cuthbert, a native of Northumberland, won an enthusiastic esteem. Beda recounts how an angelic brightness was wont to come into his face as he was enforcing the truth of the gospel, and how he delighted in particular to teach the ignorant and bar- 1 Beda, iii. 5. " Book iii. chap. 17. CHRISTIAN MISSIONARIES. 33 barous people in remote and inaccessible places seated high up amid craggy and uncouth mountains.1 From Kent and Northumberland, Christianity spread into the adjacent regions. Before the close of the seventh century it had become well established in all the kingdoms of the Anglo-Saxons. The people of Sussex, owing perhaps to the fact that their land was cut off from communication with other sections by downs and marshes, were the last to become evangel ized. A principal instrument in their conversion was Wilfrid, the most accomplished of the native English clergy in his time, but who from some cause earned much ill-will from those in power, and led a life in which preferment and persecution were strangely mixed. The missionaries from Rome brought with them, very naturally, a preference for Roman customs. On the other hand, the Scots and Britons — who in their loose connection with Rome had developed some divergent customs, especially on the time of celebrating Easter, the form of the tonsure, and certain points in the bap tismal ceremonial — cherished quite a stubborn prefer ence for their peculiarities. The differences in them selves were of no vital moment : still, they had quite a decided practical bearing, inasmuch as they involved the question of obligation to conform to the Roman model. As early as the time of Augustine, the Easter question became an occasion of dispute and heart-burn ings. The drift was naturally in favor of the Roman custom, since Rome had taken the initiative in planting the mission. In the synod of Whitby in 664, the claims 1 Book iv. chap. 27, 28. Compare his Vita S. Guthberti, cap. ix., xvi. 3 34 THE MEDIEVAL CHURCH. of Rome were effectually championed by Wilfrid. The decision, in fact, was so far adverse to the Scotch prac tice, that its chief advocate in the synod, Colman, Bishop of Lindisfarne, felt obliged to lay down his office, as he was not willing to surrender the ancestral custom. The vantage-ground thus obtained was well improved by Theodore, who was sent out from Rome as Arch bishop of Canterbury in 668. Administering his office in the Roman interest, he secured the ascendency of the papal regime in the English Church. By 716 the monks of Iona surrendered so far as the special customs in question were concerned. The churches in Ireland had generally yielded at an earlier date. Theodore, who was of Greek antecedents, was an influential patron of learning. From him came the initial impulse to the culture which in the next century could boast such dis tinguished representatives as Beda and Alcuin. The christianizing of Great Britain and Ireland gave to their peoples a catholic outlook. Their thoughts be gan to transcend their insular position. In return for the tide of heathen barbarism which had swept across the Channel to their shores, they now began to feel it their behoof to send back a tide of gospel light and life to the still unconverted tribes on the Continent. The first of the missionaries to cross over to the Con tinental side of the Channel was Columbanus, an Irish monk, who had been educated in the cloister of Bangor. About the year 590 he started forth with twelve young men as his companions. His first settlement was in ter ritory nominally Christian, but still sorely in need of example and instruction in pious living. On the bor ders of Austrasia and Burgundy, in the woody moun- CHRISTIAN MISSIONARIES. 35 tains of the Vosges, he gathered the numerous disciples who came to place themselves under his monastic rule. The fame of his sanctity endeared him to the people ; but at the same time the austere piety which he incul cated, his persistent attachment to Irish as opposed to Roman customs, and his fearless rebuke of sin in high places, made him obnoxious to many of the clergy and to the royal family. At length matters were brought to a crisis by his uncompromising opposition to the iniquities of the Burgundian king, Thierry. " The in trepid abbot, like another John the Baptist, denounced the vices of the monarch, and sternly condemned the shameless manner in which he lived in the midst of his mistresses. He refused to bless the king's children, the fruits of his amours ; declined to partake of the viands of a royal banquet set before him ; and threatened Thierry with excommunication. The prince, under other circumstances, would at once have consigned the man who acted thus to the hands of the executioner ; but he was awed by the sanctity of Columbanus, and, irritated as he was, he exclaimed that he was not mad enough to give him the crown of martyrdom. He merely commanded him to be dragged from his convent, and sent back to Ireland. The officers intrusted with the execution of these orders approached the abbot on their knees ; and so greatly did the mass of the people venerate him for his piety, that he was conducted in a species of triumph to the borders of Thierry's do minions." 1 Columbanus was brought to the coast; but the at tempt to ship him to Ireland miscarried, and he was 1 Killen, Ecclesiastical History of Ireland. 36 THE MEDIAEVAL CHURCH. allowed to go the way of his choice. We find him next laboring among the heathen population in the region of Zurich, and a little later at Bregenz. Anticipating an outbreak of violence in the latter place, he crossed over into the Lombard territory in Italy, and founded the celebrated monastery of Bobbio, near Pavia. Among the writings of Columbanus, his letters to the Roman Bishop are not the least interesting. Notwith standing the superabundance of complimentary phrases which they contain, their undertone bespeaks a man who would exercise his own discretion in taking com mands from Rome.1 As Columbanus proceeded to Italy, his most dis tinguished companion, Gallus (St. Gall), was detained by sickness. Continuing in that region, he founded the monastery which bore his name, and labored for the conversion of the Swiss and the Swabians till his death (640-650). A weird story symbolizes the impression 1 The freedom with which he addressed Boniface IV. may be seen from the following extracts : — " Vigila itaque, quaeso, papa, vigila ; et iterum dico : vigila ; quia forte non bene vigilavit Vigilius, quern caput seandali isti clamant, qui vobls culpam injiciunt." " Dolendum enim ac deflendum est, si in sede apostolica fides catholica non tenetur." " Roma orbis terrarum caput est ecclesiarum, salva loci dominicae resurrectionis singulari praerogativa, et ideo sicut magnus honor vester est pro dignitate cathedra?, ita magna cura vobis necessaria est, ut noft perdatis vestram dignitatem propter aliquam perversitatem. Tandiu enim potestas apud vos erit, quandiu recta ratio permanserit : ille enim certus regni ccelorum clavicularius est, qui dignis per veram scientiam aperit, et indignis claudit. Alioquin, si contraria fecerit, nee aperire, nee claudere poterit." " Rogo vos, quia multi dubitant de fidei vestrae puritate, ut cito tol- latis hunc naevum de sancta? cathedrae claritate." (Epist. v.) CHRISTIAN MISSIONARIES. 37 made by his attack upon heathenism. As he was fish ing one silent night — so the legend runs — on a Swiss lake near his monastery, he heard a voice descending from a neighboring peak. It was the Spirit of the Mountains calling upon the Spirit of the Waters to join in expelling the intruder. The Spirit of the Waters rose from the depths, and responded to the summons ; but in a tone of failing confidence, as of one confessing himself baffled by the prevailing Name which the in truder was perpetually invoking. Others followed the example of these pioneers. The Irish Kilian labored in Franconia soon after the middle of the seventh century. Toward the end of the same century, two natives of England, by the name of Hew- ald, found the martyr-death while attempting to preach the gospel to the Saxons. Some converts were made among the Frisians in the Netherlands by Wilfrid, who was unexpectedly cast upon their coast by a storm at sea, as, expelled from his bishopric, he was journeying to Rome. He was followed in the field by Willibrord, who was of Anglo-Saxon birth, but had been educated in the cloisters of Ireland. Under the patronage of Pepin, Mayor of the Palace, he was able to achieve a measure of success.1 Willibrord even penetrated into ' From the time of Wilfrid's labors (677-678) to 719 the opposition of the heathen King Radbod was » serious obstacle to the progress of Christianity in this region. One ground of Radbod's obstinate adhe rence to heathenism has been given as follows. He had thoughts of bap tism, and had already approached the font at the instance of Bishop Wulfram of Sens, when it occurred to him to inquire where his ancestors might be supposed to have gone, whether to the Christian's heaven or to hell. The Bishop answered, that, inasmuch as they had died unbaptized, they had undoubtedly been doomed to hell. At this, Radbod withdrew his foot from the font, saying that he could not dispense with the society 38 THE MEDIEVAL CHURCH. Denmark ; but he found it an unpromising field, and could make no other gain than the opportunity to edu cate some youths whom he purchased from slavery. The names of other missionaries, Irish, English, or Continental, might be mentioned. Not a few of them wrought to good effect. But still the field was much broader than the harvest. No extended, well organized church had been founded upon German soil. The apostle of Germany had not yet appeared, but he was already in training in the country which had supplied heroic laborers to this field. That apostle was Winfrid, or Boniface as he is usually called. He was born in 680, near Crediton, in Devon shire, England. Zeal for the monastic life early drove him to the cloister, notwithstanding the opposition which at first he encountered from his father. Having passed his thirtieth year, received ordination to the priesthood, and been honored with some special marks of confidence by his brethren, he began to turn his thoughts towards the missionary field. His first attempt was in Frisia, in 716. It fell at an unfortunate juncture, the war be tween Charles Martel and the stubborn heathen King Radbod leaving little opportunity to insinuate Chris tian teaching. Forsaking this field for the time being, he returned to England. of his forefathers for the sake of the Christian's heaven with its beggarly contingent, — "cum parvo numero pauperum." (Rettberg, Kirchenge- schichte Deutschlands, Band ii. § 77.) The story has an air of credi bility, but is none too well authenticated. The difficulty involved in the eschatology of Wulfram is said to have been ameliorated by Clemens — an Irish missionary in Germany whom Boniface brought to task — by the supposition that the preaching of Christ in Hades applied to its inhabitants generally. CHRISTIAN MISSIONARIES. 39 Boniface now determined upon a new point of de parture in his enterprise. Considering that the sanction of the Roman pontiff would add weight to his mission, he proceeded to Rome (719), and presented himself before Gregory II. The Pope gave a hearty welcome to his scheme, and sent him forward with his com mendations. Boniface selected Thuringia as the first scene of his labors ; not neglecting meanwhile to confer with Charles Martel, and to solicit whatever advantage might be derived from his patronage. Learning that Frisia, on account of the death of Radbod, had become a hopeful field, he proceeded thither, and for three years labored in connection with Willibrord. The latter, anticipating that his labors must soon come to a close, expressed the earnest desire that Boniface should become his successor in the bishopric. The honor, how ever, was modestly declined. Boniface retraced his course, and labored in Thuringia and Hessia. A report of his successes, which he sent to Rome in 723, was answered by a summons thither to be consecrated to the office of bishop. Returning again to Germany, he continued for a series of years in the successful prose cution of the work of converting the heathen. Among the Hessians, a bold stroke against an object of super stition gained him many converts. Finding that it was difficult to win the people of that region from their idol atrous veneration of an enormous oak-tree which was esteemed sacred to Thor, the god of thunder, Boniface decided to lay the axe to the tree. The awe-struck heathen stood around, expecting that their deity would take vengeance upon the authors of the sacrilege. They only saw the tree come crashing down, and riven into 40 THE MEDIEVAL CHURCH. four pieces. Of these Boniface constructed an oratorium and dedicated it in honor of St. Peter. Impressed by such a palpable indication of the impotence of their gods, many of the heathen turned to the Christian faith.1 We may judge somewhat respecting the measure of success which attended the missionary, from the report that before the year 739 he had baptized about a hun dred thousand converts. Naturally new honors came from Rome to such an efficient propagandist. He re ceived the pallium of an archbishop (some years before 745, when he fixed his metropolitan seat at Metz), and in the latter part of his career exercised extensive pow ers as the papal vicar. Converting the Germans to Christianity was only one part of the work of Boniface. He was the organizer of the German Church. In this office he acted as the agent of Rome, suppressing dissenters, and adminis tering with continual reference to the Roman model. Indeed, it must be allowed that his conduct was con-t formable to the strong terms of the oath which the Pope exacted from him as he was promoted to the epis copal rank. These terms were as follows : " I, Boniface, bishop by the grace of God, promise to thee, O blessed Peter, prince of the apostles, and to thy vicar the blessed Pope Gregory, and his successors, through the Father and the Son and the Holy Spirit, the insepara ble Trinity, and this most sacred body of thine, to show the Catholic faith in its purity, and by the help of God to persist in the unity of that faith, and in no way to give consent to anything from any source contrary to the unity of the common and universal Church, but 1 Willibaldus, Vita S Bonifacii, cap. viii. CHRISTIAN MISSIONARIES. 41 to show in all things my pure faith and my accord with thee and the needs of thy Church, and with thine afore said vicar and his successors. And if I shall find prel ates who act contrary to the ancient institutes of the holy fathers, I will have no communion or connection with them, but rather, if able, I will prohibit the same ; otherwise, I will report faithfully and at once to my apostolical lord." 1 But while Boniface administered the Church of Germany in the spirit of fidelity to this oath, his allegiance to the Pope did not descend into abjectness. On occasion, he could complain, in very explicit terms, of affairs in Rome that were not to his mind. In his closing years, Boniface found a useful ally in Pepin, the son of Charles Martel. It has commonly been assumed that it was by his hand that Pepin was anointed king at Soissons in 752 ; but some of the most careful of recent investigators have declared that this conclusion is without good foundation.2 The last enterprise of Boniface was in the field to which his earliest efforts had been directed. As if in testimony that his ambition was for souls rather than for power, he resigned his place as the primate of Ger many, and started upon a fresh attempt to evangelize the Frisians. Great success attended his labors. Thou sands, as it is said, gave effectual heed to his message. On an appointed day, the 5th of June, 755, Boniface was to meet a large company of them for administering the rite of confirmation. But instead of his converts, 1 Migne, Patrologia, torn, lxxxix. 2 Hefele, Conciliengeschichte, § 373. Compare article on Boniface in Herzog ; Rettberg, Kirchengeschichte Deutschlands, Band i. § 67. 42 THE MEDIAEVAL CHURCH. there came a raging crowd of heathen. Boniface, as he saw their approach, surmised their intent, and, stim ulating the hearts of his companions with the hope of the heavenly rewards, calmly awaited the stroke which should bring him the crown of martyrdom. The body of the great missionary found repose at the monastery of Fulda, one of the notable institutions which his zeal and tireless activity had given to Germany. Of all the tribes bordering on Christian territory, the Saxons presented the most unyielding front to Christian ity. Their hostile attitude, however, admits of expla nation. The fact that their rivals, the Franks, were in their eyes the most conspicuous representatives of Christianity, was not helpful to their prejudices. As a warlike and independent race, they scorned everything that seemed to imply an unworthy subjection. They feared that the Christian yoke would be a yoke of bondage. And, in truth, after the policy of Charle magne became manifest, they could not help associating the acceptance of Christianity with the double humilia tion of bowing to the rule of the Franks, and being compelled to pay tithes to the Church. In the view of Charlemagne, the refractory Saxons, who yielded to his arms only to gain the needed respite in which to prepare for a fresh outbreak, could not be effectually subdued save as they were Christianized. He therefore brought forward the sword as the ally of the preacher. " If Boniface," says Milman, " was the Christian, Charle magne was the Mohammedan, apostle of the gospel." Indeed, he gave the Saxons less discretion than ofttimes was conceded by the devotees of the Koran. They were given to understand that heathenism was abol- CHRISTIAN MISSIONARIES. 43 ished, and that in practising its rites they were mak ing themselves liable to the death penalty. Happily, in connection with this rude means of propagandism, there was a manifestation of a better spirit, and the use of- better ways of commending the gospel. Alcuin, notwithstanding his intimate relations with Charlemagne, did not hesitate to criticise his methods, and to give strong emphasis to the truth that only by the use of spiritual weapons could heathenism in the hearts of its votaries be effectually vanquished. More over, there were noble missionaries, such as the Frisian Liudger and the Northumbrian Willehad, who went among the Saxons, and labored in the spirit of patience and love. The first years of the ninth century may be regarded as the era of the firm establishment of Chris tianity among the Saxons. The Scandinavian peoples first made themselves con spicuous in European history as pirates and plunderers. The stormy sea was their favorite element. Wherever the wind and the waves prepared them a way, from the Baltic and the British Isles round to the coasts of Italy, they penetrated. They drove their barks far up the rivers and streams, so that many inland cities fell a prey to their unsparing hands. Towns as far inland as Orleans, Tours, Chartres, and Bourges found no secu rity. Churches and monasteries in particular, as being least protected and offering most booty, were pillaged and destroyed by these ruthless invaders. Charlemagne, who foresaw with anguish of spirit these desolating inroads from the North, had it in mind to anticipate them, and to break their force so far as possible by Christianizing the Scandinavians. But he 44 THE MEDIEVAL CHURCH. was not able to carry out his purpose. First under his son Louis a beginning was made in that direction. It was only a beginning. Neither in Denmark, Nor way, nor Sweden were the people converted in a day. Heathenism was parted with reluctantly. Many who became at length willing to receive Christ as an object of worship were disposed still to retain their old gods alongside of the Christian's Saviour. Only by slow advances, and at the expense of many reactions to paganism, did Christianity at length acquire an undis puted title to these lands. The most eminent missionary to the Scandinavians, the Apostle of the North as he has been called, was Anschar (also written Ansgar or Anskar). He was preceded, it is true, by Ebbo, Archbishop of Rheims, as respects the work in Denmark ; but this prelate, on the whole, appears rather as a patron of the enterprise than as an active and constant participant in the same. Anschar began his labors in Denmark in 826. The seeming preparation for his coming in the conversion of the King Harald, who was baptized at Mentz in the same year, proved delusive. The Christianity of Har ald was the reverse of a commendation in the eyes of the people, and he was driven from his kingdom. The missionary, too, was obliged to retire, though not with out the satisfaction of having gathered some fruit, as a number of the people had been converted, and youths purchased from slavery had been initiated into the ele ments of a Christian education.1 Soon after retiring from Denmark, Anschar found an opportunity to plant the cross in Sweden. On his 1 Rembertus, Vita Anscharii, § 14. CHRISTIAN MISSIONARIES. 45 return (about 832) he was raised to the rank of arch bishop, with Hamburg for his head-quarters. At the same time he visited Rome, and was forwarded in his enterprise by the Pope, who intrusted to him and to Ebbo the missions of the North. Many clouds swept over his chosen field. In both Sweden and Denmark, what had already been accomplished seemed destined at times to be completely undone. But Anschar was a man who could persevere through defeat after defeat. He had an elastic temper, and a faith which triumphed over the most dismal surroundings. As the Northern pirates plundered Hamburg, burning church, cloister, and library, and sending him forth with a destitute band, his comment was, "The Lord has given, and the Lord has taken away: blessed be the name of the Lord.'" x His confidence was nurtured by a peculiarly intimate communion with God. It is recorded that on the eve of great crises in his work, when every thing seemed to hang in the balance, he was able to come from the place of wrestling with a serene and joyful countenance, as one who felt that God had given him the inward pledge of a favorable issue. Combining with his steadfastness a certain emotional warmth and liveliness of imagination, he was well qualified to win and to impress men. At his death, in 865, Christianity in Sweden and Denmark had not, it is true, been placed beyond the reach of serious reverses ; nevertheless, it had acquired a hold never thereafter to be relinquished. In Norway a beginning was made for the Christian Church near the middle of the tenth century, by the i Ibid., § 22. 46 THE MEDIEVAL CHURCH. King Hacon, who had received a Christian education in England. Apprehending that he could not easily surmount the force of heathen prejudice, he waited for a season before publicly recommending the acceptance of Christianity. Even then he found the current too strong for him. In order to retain his crown, he was obliged to participate in some of the heathen rites. But at heart he was never alienated from the Chris tian faith, and at his death he bitterly deplored his compliance with the idolatrous demands of his sub jects. Among his successors, Olaf Tryggvason and Olaf Haroldson were energetic, not to say violent and tyrannical, supporters of Christianity. In the eleventh century the Christian Church became firmly founded in Norway. Christianity was introduced into Iceland in the last quarter of the tenth century. The first evangelists were the Saxon prelate Friedrich, and the native Thor- wald, who had interested Friedrich in the spiritual wel fare of the Icelanders. A number were converted, but the ears of the majority seemed closed to the message of the missionaries. After their departure, new labor ers entered the field under the patronage of Olaf Trygg vason. By the year 1000, public opinion had been so far changed that Christianity could be adopted as the public religion, though the practice of heathen rites in private was still condoned. About the time that Iceland adopted Christianity, it was carried also to Greenland, which had recently been colonized by Eric the Red. Leif, a son of this Eric, brought the first Christian priest to Greenland. Refer ences are made in the account of Leif, and several of CHRISTIAN MISSIONARIES. 47 those who followed him, to a land which has been sup posed by some to be identical with Massachusetts and Rhode Island. That the American coast was reached by these voyagers is entirely credible, but the point of visitation is still a subject for inquiry.1 Among the Slavonian races, the missionary era was the ninth, tenth, and eleventh centuries. Moravia re ceived the gospel in the latter half of the ninth century, through the Greek missionaries Cyril and Methodius, the latter of whom was awarded the metropolitan dig nity from Rome. The movement in Moravia reinforced the beginning which had been made shortly before in Bohemia. From Bohemia, Christianity was carried, after the middle of the tenth century, into Poland. The Bulgarians, Slavonian in language but not in race, first learned of Christianity from captives taken in the early part of the ninth century, among whom was the Bishop of Adrianople. They generally clung, how ever, to their old religion till after the middle of the same century. As the agency by which they were finally persuaded to a change of faith came from Con stantinople, it was but natural that their allegiance should gravitate thither. However, for a brief interval there was a serious consideration of the question of union with Rome. An embassy was sent thither about 865. The Pope in response despatched his legates into Bulgaria, and returned answers to a long list of ques tions which had been propounded respecting worship and life. The answers, on the whole, were very credit able, and such as might have been expected from the 1 See Narrative and Critical History of America, edited by Justin Winsor, vol. i. 48 THE MEDIAEVAL CHURCH. sagacious pontiff, Nicolas I., who then occupied the chair of Peter. The Bulgarians, however, were not sufficiently grateful for the paternal offices of the Pope to attach themselves to Rome. If a statement sent forth in 866 by Photius, Patriarch of Constantinople, could be taken in its full breadth, it must be concluded that the Russians had already in large numbers embraced the gospel. But Photius wished to magnify the missionary activity of the East, and so in all probability gave too high a color to his picture. The positive establishment of Christianity in Russia was more than a century later. In 955, as we read, Olga, widow of the Russian King Igor, was baptized in Constantinople under the Christian name Helena. Her grandson Vladimir was baptized in 988. Like a genuine Russian autocrat, he ordered his sub jects to follow his example. His son and successor was also a zealous patron of Christianity ; and churches, schools, and monasteries were multiplied throughout the country. The Hungarians, or Magyars, the last and fiercest of the great swarms of invaders which poured through Central Europe, after spreading the terror of their name into Southern Gaul and Italy, were finally con fined by the victories of Henry the Fowler and Otho the Great (933, 955) to their present bounds upon the Danube. Very soon thereafter the feeble beginning of Christianity, which had been received through connec tion with Constantinople, was supplemented by mission aries from the German Empire. At the end of the tenth century, King Stephen, who came to be honored by the Hungarians as a saint, was a zealous patron of the CHRISTIAN MISSIONARIES. 49 Christian Church among his subjects. His efforts, how ever, did not secure to it such a place in the affections of the people as to prevent a subsequent reaction to heathenism. Thus, from the time that the conversion of Constan- tine inaugurated the open triumph and ascendency of Christianity in the Roman Empire, seven centuries elapsed before all of the prominent tribes of Europe had consented to take the Christian name. In obscure quarters, at a still later date, there were professed heathen within European bounds. CHAPTER III. LIMITATION OF CHRISTIAN TEEEITOEY BY MOHAMMEDANISM. IN the first part of the seventh century, a power arose in Arabia which despoiled Christianity of much of its territory and cast a menacing shadow over the rest for centuries. The founder of so great, and, relatively speaking, so permanent a power, could not have been an ordinary man. As we consider the breadth and self-propagating force of Mohammed's influence, we are compelled to rank him among the most noteworthy actors upon the field of Oriental history. The prophetic vocation came to Mohammed in part as a demand of his age and country, and in part as a result of his peculiar mental and physical constitution. Tokens of a religious ferment had appeared among his countrymen. The presence of a considerable Jewish and Christian population had probably acted upon some minds as a leaven of unrest. The reliability of the old faith began to be questioned, and there were instances in which its former devotees passed over into scepti cism. In this unrest and dissatisfaction, none shared more deeply than Mohammed. But his ardent nature could not abide in mere doubt or denial of the old idol- MOHAMMEDANISM. 61 atrous faith. He pondered intensely upon the problems of religion. Seeking a place congenial to his burdened soul, he retired often to a lonely cave. Gradually his mind became established firmly in the conviction of the nothingness of idolatry, and in the acknowledgment of one supreme God, the Creator, Ruler, and Judge of the world. In a nature so intense and poetic as was his, the new belief could not lie dormant. It fired his im agination, and commanded his thoughts. At the same time, his physical constitution gave him a peculiar apti tude for vision and trance. So the epilepsy of child hood became the prophetic swoon of the mature man ; Mohammed believed himself to be the recipient of reve lations, a prophet sent from God to turn the Arabs from their idols. After spreading his views in private for an interval among his near friends, he called upon the people at large to give heed to his message. But the inhabitants of Mecca proved to be a gainsaying people. They responded with indifference, and finally with wrath and persecution. Meanwhile pilgrims from Medina had • become favorably impressed with his claims, and pre pared for him a refuge in that city. The result was the Hejira so celebrated in Mohammedan annals, — the flight of the prophet, in 622, from Mecca to Medina. In the latter city he easily gained complete ascendency. Other means besides spiritual weapons were now at his command, and he made no delay in using them. The sword was welcomed as the most effective instrument of persuasion. By its aid Mohammed's power had so far advanced by 630, that he was able to take Mecca ; and in the next year came the unsparing edict for the complete extirpation of idolatry in Arabia. " When 52 THE MEDIEVAL CHURCH. the sacred months," so reads the edict, "are passed away, kill the idolaters wherever ye may find them, and take them and besiege them, and lie in wait for them in every place of observation ; but if they repent, and are steadfast in prayer, and give alms, then let them go their way." l At the death of Mohammed, in 632, little more remained to be done to complete the dominion of his faith in Arabia. As Mohammed professed in all varieties of matters to be guided by revelations, his decisions as a ruler, as well as his earlier prophetic messages, were at the same time oracles of religion. So the Koran was prepared. It is simply a collection of the prophet's utterances, without respect to chronology in its arrangement, — a feature not a little embarrassing to the interpreter ; for, it being a settled rule among the Mohammedans that in case of disagreement a later revelation must be re garded as cancelling an earlier, an unsettled chronology is equivalent to an unsettled authority. In fact, the outlines of the faith in the Koran have not appeared so distinct to its votaries as to prevent much diversity of opinion, and much division into sects. The advice of the prophet, " Take tight hold of God's rope alto gether, and do not part into sects,"2 has been very poorly followed. Great originality cannot be claimed for the prophet of the Koran. He drew both from Judaism and from. Christianity. His borrowings, however, evidently were not made on the basis of an accurate acquaintance with the oracles of either. The sources of which he availed himself were extra-biblical, the popular traditions found 1 Koran, Sura ix. 2 Sura iii. MOHAMMEDANISM. 53 among the Arabian Jews and Christians in his time. These he interwove at considerable length with his rev elations. At first he acknowledged both Jews and Christians as representatives of the true religion, and even instructed his followers to turn their faces towards Jerusalem in prayer. Later he regarded them in a much less friendly light, though still giving a place to Moses and Jesus as the great prophets of the past, and reckoning himself as the end of the succession to which they belonged. The Koran is not without reference to the Divine compassion, the freedom of man, and spiritual rewards in the hereafter. But, after all, the charge is well founded, that it sets forth the God of might and judg ment rather than the God of love, lays the foundation for a fatalistic conception of man's relation to the Divine sovereignty, and encourages the anticipation of a sen sual paradise. On the latter point, the mild comments of some recent writers are hardly adequate to the case. In the light of such passages as are found in Suras xliv., Iv., and lxxviii., it cannot well be denied that a full counterpart of the Oriental harem is transferred to the hereafter. With some passages noble in content as well as in style, and not unworthy of a prophet, the Koran com bines others which bespeak a man weakly given over to delusion, or consciously devoted to fraud and trickery. The revelations by which he justified his marriage with Zeinab, the divorced wife of his freedman and adopted son, as also that by which he endeavored to silence the complaints of his wives over an unequal share in his attentions, give us a picture of inspiration descending 54 THE MEDIEVAL CHURCH. into a poor and transparent burlesque. Even critics who judge Mohammed in general with great charity are obliged to confess that in his later years he was not unstained by the arts of the impostor. " It is hard to think," says Stanley Lane-Poole, " that he could really believe in the inspired source of some of his revelations. He may have thought the commands they convey neces sary, but he could hardly have deemed them Divine. In some eases he could scarcely fail to be aware that the object of the ' revelation ' was his own comfort or pleas ure or reputation, and not the major Dei gloria, nor the good of the people." J The Koran embodied not only a religion, but a social system. In respect to the latter, it no doubt intro duced much improvement upon the previous customs of the Arabians. At the same time it built enor mous barriers against future progress. By giving the sanction of religion to the cardinal vices of Eastern civ ilization, — polygamy, unlimited license in concubinage, and slavery, — it mortgaged unnumbered generations to degradation. Mohammed's commendation of the sword by word and deed found a ready response in the hearts of his followers. Under the double impulse of a fresh reli gious zeal and military ambition, they sallied forth to the work of conquest. And where these two motives failed, a third came in to urge on the halting, — the love of plunder, so strongly rooted in the Arabs of that as of other ages. To use the graphic description of Sir William Muir : " The marauding spirit of the Bedouin was in unison with the militant spirit of Islam. The 1 Studies in a Mosque. MOHAMMEDANISM. 55 cry of plunder and of conquest reverberated throughout the land, and was answered eagerly. The movement began naturally with the tribes in the North, which had been first reclaimed from their apostasy, and whose rest less spirit led them over the frontier. Later on, in the second year of the Caliphate, the exodus spread to the people of the South. At first the Caliph forbade that help should be taken from such as had backslidden. But step by step, as new spheres opened out, and the cry ran through the land for fresh levies to fill up the martyr gaps, the ban was put aside, and all were wel come. Warrior after warrior, column after column, whole tribes in endless succession, with their women and children, issued forth to battle , and ever, at the marvellous tales of cities conquered, of booty rich be yond compute, of fair captives distributed on the field, — ' to every man a damsel or two,' — and, above all, at the sight of the royal fifth of spoil and slaves sent to Medina, fresh tribes arose and went. Onward and still onward, like swarms from the hive, one after another they poured forth, pressed first to the north, and spread thence in great masses to the east and west." 1 So far as Christian territory was concerned, in large sections an easy victory for the Islamite warriors had been prepared by the great schisms which had grown out of the Christological controversies. Large popula tions in Egypt and Syria were not at all loath to change from the hated government at Constantinople to the yoke of Mohammedan rule. Both of these countries had been conquered by 640. Persia was added by 651. Northern Africa was invaded in 647, but not fully sub- 1 Annals of the Early Caliphate. 56 THE MEDIEVAL CHURCH. dued till the first years of the next century. The conquest of Spain was begun in 710. The capital of Eastern Christendom was twice assailed (669, 717), and owed its safety only to the strength of its fortifications and the use of the Greek fire. The Western capital was also threatened. Indeed, in the space of a century Mohammedanism had stretched its borders along the whole extent of Christian territory, and seemed destined to make still further acquisitions. But the reserved power was wanting to follow up the early victories. So the rugged peoples which had settled in the Western Empire were able both to check, and in a measure to turn back, the advancing wave. In most countries, Mohammedan possession meant the limitation rather than the complete destruction of the Christian Church. In Arabia the policy was broached by the second Caliph, Omar, of tolerating no religion but that of the Koran. But elsewhere the attempt was not made — at least, it was no part of a settled scheme — to proscribe Christianity and Judaism. The alterna tives presented were Islam, tribute, and the sword. By the payment of tribute the Christians could purchase for themselves the privilege of practising their religion, only subject to social degradation and often assailed with ridicule. To those at all open to temptation, there were plenty of motives for apostasy. The simple accept ance of the Koran raised the conquered to the rank of the conquerors. Prisoners who had forfeited their lives, as having been taken in battle, could redeem themselves by a change of faith. Polygamy, and the unrestrained right of the master to use every bondwoman according to his pleasure, brought multitudes of women under a MOHAMMEDANISM. 57 heavy domestic constraint, against which it was no easy matter to preserve their religion. Before excessive in dulgence had enervated the conquerors, these features of their social system were no doubt effectual means for swelling their own ranks at the expense of the tributary Christians. In some quarters Christianity was reduced almost to the vanishing point. " Out of four hundred sees that once shed a salutary light on Africa, four only were surviving in the eleventh century. The rest had been absorbed in the vortex of Islamism." 1 In return for its work of destruction in general, and for its enormous crime and folly in particular in the burning of the Alexandrian library, Mohammedanism began to give back the fruits of learned industry. After the conqueror came the scholar. By the eighth century the Arabic mind began to yield to the stimulus of Greek culture. Metaphysics attracted some attention ; but it was in the line of mathematical and physical studies that the most noteworthy achievements were made. In Spain the tenth century was the golden era of this Arabic learning. 1 Hardwick, Christian Church in the Middle Age. CHAPTER IV. CTvTL PATBONS OF CHEISTIANITY. WHILE the memory of the Roman Empire perpetu ated in the times of disruption a high conception of order and of empire, there came at intervals men who had the ambition and the talents to realize in a measure the ideal. Such in a pre-eminent sense were the early Carlovingians. The Merovingian dynasty reached the natural out come of luxury and license. The material for real kingship became exhausted. Hois fainiants, do-nothing kings, mere figure-heads, sat upon the throne. A line of able and energetic men, commonly designated Mayors of the Palace, rose in the course of the seventh century to the place of actual sovereignty. Among these a dis tinguished place was held by Pepin d'Heristal, who be came master of France in 687. Shortly after his death in 714, his illegitimate son Charles, to whom the glori ous surname of Martel, or Hammer, was added as a memorial of his triumph over the Saracens, took the reins of government. Charles Martel was not in all respects a wise and generous patron of the Christian Church. Not only did he seize upon church property in order to provide a recompense for his soldiers, but he indulged the utterly CIVIL PATRONS OF CHRISTIANITY. 59 demoralizing expedient of appointing his chief officers to high ecclesiastical trusts, merely for the sake of the ample revenues connected therewith. But after times made little account of this trespass, in consideration of the services of Charles in turning back the tide of Mo hammedan invasion. As early as 719 the Saracens of Spain had penetrated beyond the Pyrenees. In 731 they came in full force, purposing nothing less than to extend their rule over the whole of France. Charles Martel chose his ground at a point between Tours and Poitiers. For six days the two hosts confronted each other (October, 732). On the seventh day the battle began in earnest. The stalwart Franks met without re coil the impetuous charge of the Saracens. At length a detachment which had reached the enemy's rear threw them into confusion by an attack in that quar ter. The Franks, now charging in their turn, drove the opposing ranks to their tents, and filled them with such alarm that they fled under cover of the night, leaving behind them immense spoils. The victory was decisive, and determined that the crescent should sink behind the Pyrenees as speedily as it had risen above them. Reports of the battle ran up the loss of the Saracens to the incredible figure of three hundred thou sand slain. Charles stood now, though without a crown, in the front rank of European princes. The Pope confessed his eminence by seeking his alliance, and promising to bestow upon him the title Patrician of Rome. Charles Martel died before the results of the negotia tions had matured. The proposed scheme, however, was carried out by his son Pepin, who not only secured the 60 THE MEDIAEVAL CHURCH. honorary title Patrician of the Romans, but also the acknowledged rank of sovereign of the Franks. By papal consent he took the crown. In answer to the question propounded by the ambassadors of Pepin, the Pope replied that he who wielded the authority and fulfilled the duties of a king should also bear the name. So the helpless Merovingian Childeric was sent to the cloister, and Pepin was crowned at Soissons in 752. In return for favors from Rome, Pepin drove the Lombards from their usurped possession of the exarchate, and made a grant of this territory to the Pope. The nature of this grant, which was renewed by Charlemagne, we shall have occasion to consider in a subsequent con nection. The foundations laid by Charles Martel and Pepin were built upon by a man of much greater breadth and genius than either of them. Charlemagne, the first Germanic ruler of pre-eminent greatness, on the death of his father, Pepin, in 768, shared the kingdom with his brother Carloman. Three years later he became sole ruler. It was the grandeur of Charlemagne's ambition, that he aimed to restore an image of the Roman Empire. And it must be allowed that he went far toward the fulfilment of his ambition. He pushed out his borders on every side. He gained supremacy over a large part of Italy. He acquired a portion of Spain. He con quered the Saxons, though at the expense of seventeen campaigns and upwards of thirty years of struggle. He gained the sovereignty over Bavaria, penetrated into Pannonia and conquered the Avars, the descend ants of the Huns whose invasions had terrified Europe CIVIL PATRONS OF CHRISTIANITY. 61 in the fifth century. In fine, his empire was made to cover a large part of Western Europe, reaching from the Baltic to the Ebro, from the British Channel to the southern part of Italy, from the Atlantic to the Lower Danube and the mountains of Moravia. In order to gain an outward badge suitable to express so great a stretch of authority, Charlemagne received the imperial crown from the hands of the Pope. The ceremonial of coronation took place on Christmas day in the year 800. Thus the ancient order of things was recalled. The West had once more its Christian Caesar. Hand in hand with the work of conquest, Charle magne endeavored to carry on the work of civilization. He patronized scholars, founded schools, collected libra ries, and gave to his people in his own habits an exam ple of zeal and industry in study. He endeavored to inform himself about the state and the wants of the people in all parts of his dominions, and was unwearied in efforts to provide them with suitable laws. On the whole, he used a wise discretion in adjusting his at tempts to improve his people to their native character istics. " Other barbarian princes," says Henri Martin, " have cast themselves with ardor into the work of civ ilization: but that which distinguishes among them all the great Charles is that he substituted an intelligent imitation for a servile copying ; that he borrowed from Roman traditions only ideas and information, and not impracticable political forms ; that he wished finally to civilize the race of Franks and Germans by developing, and not by destroying, its native genius. In that lay its force, and he never forgot the fact." 1 1 Histoire de France. 62 THE MEDIAEVAL CHURCH. The personal appearance of Charlemagne was well suited to add to the impression made by his magnificent achievements. It is not strange, therefore, that promi nent faults were made little of by his contemporaries, especially as they were such as royalty not uncom monly exhibited in that age. History records in par ticular, to his dishonor, that he gave way to a savage ferocity in executing at one time four thousand and five hundred of the rebellious Saxons ; and that in his do mestic life he was guilty of concubinage, as well as of an arbitrary use of the prerogative of divorce.1 Such blemishes must be regarded as a serious detraction from true greatness ; nevertheless, in eminent respects, the first Germanic Emperor was not unworthy of the title which has become incorporated with his name. Con sidering his resources, he accomplished an astonishing work. " He stands alone," says Hallam, " like a bea con upon a waste, or a rock in the broad ocean. His sceptre was as the bow of Ulysses, which could not be drawn by any weaker hand. In the dark ages of Euro pean history, the reign of Charlemagne affords a solitary resting-place between two long periods of turbulence and ignominy, deriving the advantage of contrast both from that of the preceding dynasty, and of a posterity for whom he had formed an empire which they were unworthy and unequal to maintain." 2 While the empire of Charlemagne soon went to pieces, the fruits of his labors were not by any means wholly swept away. The pieces were far different from what 1 For a summary of Charlemagne's domestic record see Einhard, Vita et Conversatio Caroli Regis Magni, cap xviii. 2 Europe during the Middle Ages. CIVIL PATRONS OF CHRISTIANITY. 63 they would have been but for his powerful impress. His work survived in the more progressive elements of the states into which his empire was dismembered. It was in the lands over which the sovereignty of Charlemagne had extended, that the feudal system had its most conspicuous development. The germs of the system, no doubt, were earlier than the age of the great Carlovingian. In the disorders which followed close upon his relinquishment of the sceptre, a great impe tus was given to its growth. The act of Charles the Bald in 877, in making the government of the counties hereditary, thus converting these districts into great fiefs, decidedly favored its complete ascendency. In the tenth, century, feudalism appears as the dominant rSgime. Its essential characteristic was the grant, by a superior, of property or privilege, under the condition of service. Primarily the grant consisted of lands, upon which the holder exercised more or less of the rights of sovereignty ; and service was principally dis charged in rendering military aid to the patron or suze rain. In course of time, however, a variety of rights and privileges, as well as landed estates, passed under the feudal tenure. The relation of lord and vassal was held not only by the lay nobles, but also by prelates and abbots ; not only by individuals, but also by cities and towns. It was a kind of neighborhood system, which was rapidly promoted by the absence of a strong central government. After Charlemagne, the next illustrious patron of Christian civilization was Alfred the Great of England, — a name that will suffer no eclipse when placed beside that of any prince of the period. He moved indeed in 64 THE MEDIJEVAL CHURCH. a much narrower circle than did the ambitious restorer of the Roman Empire. In intellectual force and daring very likely he was not his equal. But he was more than his equal in the highest and finest traits. In purity of life and symmetry of character he bore a title to last ing reverence and affection such as Charlemagne was never able to earn. He gained the heart of England for all time, and an Englishman must exercise self-restraint not to kindle to eloquence as he mentions his name. " Alfred," says Green, " was the noblest, as he was the most complete, embodiment of all that is great, all that is lovable, in the English temper. He combined as no other man has ever combined its practical energy, its patient and enduring force, its profound sense of duty, the reserve and self-control that steadies in it a wide outlook and a restless daring, its temperance and fair ness, its frank geniality, its sensitiveness to affection, its poetic tenderness, its deep and passionate religion. Religion, indeed, was the groundwork of Alfred's char acter. Everywhere throughout his writings that remain to us, the name of God, the thought of God, stir him to outbursts of ecstatic adoration. But he was no mere saint. He felt none of that scorn of the world about him which drove the nobler souls of his day to monas tery or hermitage. Vexed as he was by sickness and constant pain, his temper took no touch of asceticism. His rare geniality, a peculiar elasticity and mobility of nature, gave color and charm to his life. A sunny frank ness and openness of spirit breathes in the pleasant chat of his books, and what he was in his books he showed himself in his daily converse." 1 1 History of the English People. CIVIL PATRONS OF CHRISTIANITY. 65 Alfred came to the throne (871) at. a time of great national peril and distress. The inroads made by the Danes in the closing years of the preceding century had been followed by new and greater invasions, until at length they seemed ready to gain complete mastery over England. In this crisis the valor and patience of Alfred came to the rescue. He inspired the hearts of the people with his own hopefulness, met the enemy in bat tle after battle, and saved the country from the yoke of their dominion. He was not able, indeed, to expel the Danes ; but he held them in check, and laid the foun dation for that work of his successors by which the strangers became incorporated into the English people, instead of taking its place or reducing it to a subordi nate rank. England, it is true, came in time to have its Danish sovereign ; but Canute and those of his house who succeeded him for a brief interval brought about no ascendency of the Danes in England at large. They were Danish rulers over an English people. But the sword was by no means the only weapon with which Alfred served his people. He had a care to provide them with improved laws, and with new means of religious and intellectual training. He beheld with grief the gross ignorance which had been settling upon the nation since the Northern pirates had begun to lay the torch to cloister and church. Teachers were called in from abroad. Nor did the King stop with patronizing instructors : he turned instructor himself, and wrought diligently at the translator's task, rendering into Eng lish for the benefit of the unlearned the work of Boethius on the Consolation of Philosophy, the Pastoral of Pope Gregory, the Universal History of Orosius, and the His- 5 66 THE MEDIAEVAL CHURCH. tory of the Anglo-Saxon Church by Beda. In fine, we see in Alfred a consecration of princely talents that has rarely been equalled in the history of royalty. The Norman conquest effected a great revolution in the political and social state of England, and had also an important bearing upon its ecclesiastical affairs. But the effects of the Norman ascendency may better be considered in the following period. Germany presents us next with an example of illus trious sovereigns. On the deposition of Charles the Fat in 888, Germany returned to the status of a sepa rate realm which had been assigned to her in the treaty of Verdun in 843. The first of her rulers were of no special note. But with the introduction of the Saxon house, in 919, came men who knew how to add honor to the imperial dignity. The most distinguished in this line of rulers were the first two, Henry the Fowler and Otho I. The former won the gratitude of Europe by the effectual check which he put upon the inroads of the Hungarians. The latter in ambition and personal force recalled the image of Charlemagne. No less than the mighty Frank he aimed to restore the Roman Em pire. Having consolidated his rule in Germany, he pushed on into Italy, received the imperial crown from the hand of the Pope, exercised his pleasure in filling the papal office, and established his supremacy over a large part of the peninsula. He may be regarded as the chief founder of the power which before the expira tion of the next century was to match arms with the papacy. Three rulers followed him from the Saxon house ; namely, Otho II., Otho III., and Henry II, Then came (1024) the Franconian house, represented by Conrad II., Henry III., Henry IV., and Henry V. CHAPTER V. CONTROVERSIES. HPHIS period presents no such fruitful activity in the -*¦ sphere of doctrine as appeared in the preceding. As it was the darkest and most confused of the Chris tian ages, so it was the least competent and the least disposed to accord a searching attention to the prob lems of the faith. While there were some men of fair sholarship, such as John of Damascus and Photius in the East, Isidore of Seville, Beda, Alcuin, and Rabanus Maurus in the West, these had more of the spirit and talent of the compiler than of the energetic and original thinker. In John Scotus Erigena alone do we behold any outburst of speculative genius; and his writings, with their manifold aberrations from the commonly accepted system of belief, were rather a warning to men to bridle their thoughts, than an encouragement to give them a loose rein. Still the age had its controversies. Two of these, the Monothelite and the Iconoclastic, were on a scale which made them great public events. They fall therefore properly within the scope of this work. We may also devote a few words to points in dispute between the East and the West, to the local controversies of the West, and to those heretical sects which were regarded as quite without the pale of Catholic Christianity. 68 THE MED1J2VAL CHURCH. 1. The Monoihelite Controversy. — This was the end of the chain whose beginning reaches back into the later stages <5f the Arian strife. The preceding links were Apollinarianism and its condemnation ; Nestori- anism and its condemnation ; Eutychianism, its con demnation, and again its apparent victory through the . patronage of the Alexandrian Patriarch Dioscurus ; the formulation of the orthodox christology at Chalcedon ; the rise and persistence of a large sectarian body in Egypt, Syria, and the neighboring territory to the east ward, known as the Monophysites, who refused to ac cept the creed of Chalcedon ; and the agitation, largely without fruit, but in a measure favorable to the Mono physites, which disturbed the reign of Justinian. The chain had already been drawn out across the breadth of two centuries and a half, when a scheme was broached -which added upwards of half a century more. The scheme was an expedient for reconciling the Monophysites to the Church, — the scheme of which the Emperor Heraclius became enamored. In his cam paign against the Persians, his attention had been spe cially directed to the Monophysites. He bethought himself that it would be a glorious thing for the integ rity of the Empire, as well as for the unity of the Church, to bring back this large body of schismatics into the Catholic fellowship. By communication with the Mono- physite bishops, and those who were anxious for their pacification, the idea of a compromise was suggested to his mind. He thought it would take off the edge of their opposition to the creed of Chalcedon, if it were allowed that in Christ there is but one indivisible operation of will. Such a concession, as he properly CONTROVERSIES. 69 judged, could not be otherwise than welcome to their zeal for the complete unity of Christ's person. But it was necessary to consult the theologians. Here the result was at first all that the Emperor could have de sired. Sergius, the Patriarch of Constantinople, became his industrious ally. Indeed, he is supposed by some historians to have been a chief instrument in suggesting to the Emperor the plan of compromise.1 He helped to quiet the scruples of Cyrus, Bishop of Phasis, who, as he was promoted to the patriarchate of Alexandria, gave a practical application to the scheme of reconcilia tion, and brought many of the Monophysites into the Catholic Church. Still further and of more significance, Sergius won over Honorius I., Bishop of Rome, to a commendation of the new formula. As the Patriarch of Antioch was also favorable to the imperial project, victory seemed well assured. But something more than skilful diplomacy is neces sary to fix dogmas in any age and people not given over to complete indifference and passivity. Schemes of compromise are only schemes for complicating and prolonging discussion. An ambiguous formula is no basis for a stable equilibrium. So it proved in this case. Resolute voices began to assail the plan of pacifi cation, as a surrender to Monophysite heresy. Sophro- nius, Patriarch of Jerusalem, issued a circular letter in defence of the opposing doctrine of two wills in Christ. As an offset to this, Heraclius sent forth a decree (638). This document, which was probably composed by Ser gius, and is known as the Ecthesis, commanded silence on the points in dispute ; but it was in no wise calcu- 1 Hefele, Conciliengeschichte, § 291. 70 THE MEDIAEVAL CHURCH. lated to induce silence, since it manifestly departed from the neutral standpoint, and put in an apology for the Monothelite teaching. An edict issued ten years later by Constans, and called the Type, was more genu inely neutral. But neutrality was now as much out of the question as the positive enforcement of the Mono thelite formula. Men of weight and influence stood forth as stubborn opponents of all compromise and ambiguity. Such was the attitude in particular of the Roman Bishop Martin I., and the monk Maximus, both of whom were rewarded for their courage and stead fastness with the honors of martyrdom. The former, through a council convened at Rome in 649, formally sanctioned the doctrine of two wills in Christ, and con demned not only the opposing doctrine, together with its upholders, but also the two imperial decrees. The last item was declared to be a crime against the imperial majesty. Martin accordingly was seized in Rome by the emissaries of the Emperor, and carried to Constanti nople. The peril of a death sentence was turned aside by the request of the Patriarch of Constantinople, who was then in his last sickness. But treatment the equiv alent of execution, to one pressed by infirmities as was the aged Pope, was awarded him. After being harshly used, he was sent (655) to Chersoh on the Black Sea, where a few months of deprivation served to waste away his life. Maximus was the victim of even greater barbarity. As flatteries, threats, and banishment were found powerless to bend his resolution, he was brought to Constantinople, scourged, deprived of his tongue and right hand, and sent to die of his injuries in renewed exile (662). CONTROVERSIES. 71 The cause of these martyrs was the cause of victory, not merely as being sustained by their powerful witness, but as being most in accord with the preceding drift in doctrine, especially as represented by the great Council of Chalcedon. Consequently the Sixth Ecumenical Council, convened at Constantinople in 680, found little difficulty in condemning Monothelitism, and uniting upon the assertion that there are two natural wills and two natural operations in Christ, though these are never in antagonism. The decision of the council substan tially ended the controversy. There was, however, an abortive attempt under the Emperor Bardanes (711-713) to restore the proscribed teaching, and it continued to find refuge among the Maronites in the Lebanon region. The Monothelite controversy has great interest apart from its bearing upon the subject of christology. Its record affords one of the most conspicuous of the test cases of the dogma of papal infallibility. While the dogma would in no wise be proved by the absence of ex cathedra decrees in conflict with the accepted tenets of the Roman Catholic system, inasmuch as that system it self by no means bears the stamp of infallibility, a single ex cathedra decree from any pope in violation of any tenet of this system would, even on Romanist princi ples themselves, disprove the dogma. Now, it has been a notorious fact, ever since the days of Heraclius and his scheme of reconciliation, that the name of the Roman Bishop Honorius I. has been intimately associated with the Monothelite heresy. There can be no question at all that he was implicated in its patronage, and was anathematized for his fault by the highest authorities of the Church. 72 THE MEDIAEVAL CHURCH. These are facts which call for a careful scrutiny. A mooted question is whether Honorius ex cathedra sanctioned heresy. As bearing upon this question, we may consider the nature and extent of the condemna tion visited upon him, the evidence of his own writ ings, and some of the more noteworthy verdicts of scholars. The nature and extent of the condemnation are per tinent to the question, as serving in some measure to express the impression of the age respecting the tres pass of Honorius. It is not to be assumed that councils presided over by Roman legates, and moreover a long line of Roman bishops, Would be so careless of the honor of the Roman see as to anathematize a Roman bishop for heresy, except on the basis of the most serious con viction that he had abased his high office to the positive patronage and inculcation of heresy. Now, the anath ema against Honorius was quite as broad as these terms indicate. After laying Sergius and others under anath ema, the decree of the ecumenical council of 680 pro ceeds : " We have provided that together with these, Honorius, who was Pope of ancient Rome, should be cast out of God's holy Catholic Church and anathema tized, because we have discovered, through the writings which he addressed to Sergius, that in all things he followed his view, and confirmed his impious dogmas." The two following ecumenical councils, the seventh and eighth, repeated the anathema. Pope Leo II. confirmed the action of the council of 680 in these unequivocal terms : " We equally anathematize the inventors of the new heresy, that is, Bishop Theodore of Pharan, Cyrus of Alexandria, Sergius, Pyrrhus, Paulus, Petrus, way- CONTROVERSIES. 73 layers rather than overseers of the church of Constan tinople ; also Honorius, who has not illuminated this apostolic Church with the doctrine of apostolic tradition, but by a profane betrayal has endeavored to subvert the immaculate faith." 1 A whole line of popes, extending over no less an interval than three centuries, affixed also their signatures to the anathema. " In the Liber Diur- nus," says Hefele, " that is, the Book of Formularies of the Roman Curia (from the fifth to the eleventh cen tury), is found the old formula for the pontifical oath, prescribed without doubt by Gregory II. (at the begin ning of the eighth century), according to which every new pope at his entrance upon his office is bound to give oath that he acknowledges the Sixth Ecumenical Council, which laid an eternal anathema upon Sergius., Pyrrhus, etc., together with Honorius, because he gave encouragement to the depraved assertions of heretics." 2 As is indicated in the above, the writings in which Honorius patronized the Monothelite heresy, and for which he was placed under anathema, were his epistles to Sergius. In these epistles he assumes that unity of person implies oneness of will, reprobates mention of either one or two energies in Christ, and accepts the Monothelite formula in these plain terms : " We confess also one will of our Lord Jesus Christ." 3 Some of the most eminent exponents of Roman Cath olic scholarship have avowed that it is impossible to excuse Honorius from an ex cathedra sanctioning of heresy. Db'llinger, writing several years before the 1 Mansi, Hefele, Gieseler. 2 Conciliengeschichte, 2d ed., 1877, § 324. 8 Mansi, Hefele. 74 THE MEDIAEVAL CHURCH. Vatican Council of 1869-70, declares that he was just as much a heretic as Sergius, and others of the Oriental bishops who championed the Monothelite heresy, and can be exempted from the odium of that name only on the same ground on which they can be exempted ; namely, that their erroneous views were given forth in connection with a subject upon which the Church had not yet rendered any authoritative decision. In confirmation of the conclusion, that Honorius was es sentially agreed with the Patriarchs of Constantinople and Alexandria, he points to the fact that the Roman Bishop, in entire harmony with their view, interpreted the two passages of Scripture which most clearly dis tinguish between the human and the Divine will in Christ, as being in the mouth of Christ a mere " econ omy," or accommodated mode of speaking, used for the purpose of admonishing us to submit our wills to the Divine. On the question whether Honorius in his epistles rendered an ex cathedra decision, Dollinger says, " If the conception of an ex cathedra decision is given the requisite breadth, and only those dogmatic declarations are reckoned to this category which a pope issues not in his own name or for himself, but in the name of the Church, with the sure consciousness of the teaching prevailing in the Church, consequently after foregoing inquiry or conciliar discussion, then — but also only then — can it be said that Honorius did not render an ex cathedra decision." x 1 Die Papst-Fabeln des Mittelalters, 1863. Any one who will honestly examine the text of the Vatican decrees of 1870 cannot fail to see that they assert for the Pope dogmatic independence or absoluteness. The authority of his decisions is in no wise made to depend on " foregoing CONTROVERSIES. 75 Hefele, while he insinuates the charitable thought that Honorius was not at heart a heretic, cannot deny the fact that he so expressed himself as in his highest official capacity to patronize heresy. In his Causa Honorii Papce, written before the Vatican Council, he sums up the tenor of the Pope's epistles in this way : " Honorius rejected the technical orthodox term of two energies, and declared the specific heretical term, one will, to be correct, and prescribed this twofold error as an article of faith to the church of Constantinople." In the same treatise he pronounces for the ex cathedra character of the papal documents. Answering the ob jection that they were not formally addressed to the whole Church, he says, " I do not know that a formal address to the whole Church is absolutely necessary to an ex cathedra definition ; for in that case the famous dogmatic epistle of Leo I. to Flavian was not given ex cathedra." In his references to the subject subsequent to the Vatican Council, Hefele, if more careful to give prominence to the utmost allowance for Honorius that the facts may permit, does not depart essentially from his former position. He allows the faults which appear upon the surface of the epistles to Sergius, and declares explicitly for the ex cathedra character of those epis tles. On the latter point, speaking of Pennachi as a prominent supporter of the affirmative, he says, " I, for my part, confess my agreement in this connection with Pennachi, since Honorius designed to give to the church of Constantinople immediately, and to the inquiry or conciliar discussion." Hence, in the light of the existing definition, Dollinger appears as asserting unqualifiedly the ex cathedra character of the teaching of Honorius. 76 THE MEDIJEVAL CHURCH. whole Church implicitly, a prescription respecting doc trine and faith ; and in his second letter employed the very expression, ' Ceterum, quantum ad dogma ecclesias- ticum pertinet, • • • non unam vel duas operationes in mediatore Dei et hominum definire debemus.' " x Before leaving this historical episode, we should ob serve that its significance is by no means dependent upon the conclusion which may be reached as to whether in strictness an ex cathedra character belonged to the heretical teaching of Honorius. Even though a nega tive should be pronounced here, the case presents a fatal obstruction to the doctrine of papal infallibility. As the New Testament does not mention the Bishop of Rome, it says of course nothing about his infallibility. Accordingly, the dogma of papal infallibility, if it has any foundation at all, has only a traditionary basis. Now the facts cited show that it cannot claim even such a basis. That long succession of anathemas, reaching over the breadth of centuries, unrelieved by a single suggestion that the honor of the Roman see could be saved by the supposition that Pope Honorius had not transgressed against the faith in his highest official ca pacity, — what does it prove ? It proves that the Church of that era as represented by its supreme au thorities did not entertain the theory of an ex cathedra infallibility. That theory lacks, therefore, the marks of a valid tradition, and has no genuine historical basis. 2. The Iconoclastic Controversy. — A special interest pertains to this long-continued strife. The subject was one which invited the attention of the common man, as well as of the cultured theologian. It had to do with i Conciliengeschichte, 2d ed., § 298. CONTROVERSIES. 77 the every-day practice of the masses, with their cher ished associations, with the satisfaction of feelings to which habitual indulgence had given an inveterate bias. A passionate warmth, therefore, characterized the dis pute. Argument often passed over into popular uproar or tyrannical violence. Both people and rulers were put to the test ; and in the changing scenes of the drama we gain a living picture of the age in general, and of the Byzantine court in particular. The contro versy, too, was one of far-reaching consequence, being accessory to the political separation of the East and the West, and so hastening the unrestricted development of Latin Christianity towards its peculiar type. The iconoclastic war had its origin in a revolutionary attempt, — the attempt of the Byzantine ruler, with an army at his back, to root up an established custom. It may be, indeed, that within the ecclesiastical sphere there was somewhat of a reaction against the worship of images ; but it was not of notable extent. The whole current of thought and practice in the East was in the direction of image-worship at the beginning of the eighth century, when the government attempted to turn back the stream. In the West, the cause of images claimed at the same time a less unanimous suffrage. Though moving, on the whole, toward the same goal, the West moved more slowly. Gregory the Great, at the close of the sixth Century, while he gave a place to images as being suited to stimulate religious contempla tion, seems not to have favored the bestowing any form of worship upon them. In his epistles to Serenus, the iconoclastic Bishop of Marseilles, he approves, not in deed his breaking and banishing of images, but his zeal 78 THE MEDIAEVAL CHURCH. in prohibiting adoration of them. Neander, in his com ments on the language of the Pope, remarks, " Since Gregory here expresses himself so unconditionally against the adoratio imaginum, so is it to be concluded therefrom that he repudiated not merely an idolatrous direction of the inward feelings, but also every outward token, like prostration or kneeling, which was customa rily rendered before idols." 1 A considerable part of the West, as we shall observe later, still adhered to this position after the outbreak of the controversy in the East. It was mainly that part, however, which had not been under Eastern rule. The Popes, from the early part of the eighth century, appeared as zealous cham pions of the cause of image-worship. Accordingly, so far as his own domain was concerned, the Byzantine ruler began his crusade against a custom substantially universal. As to the merits of the opposing parties, they are best described in the statement that the controversy was a struggle of one extreme against another, — a struggle between a superstitious valuation of images, and a fanatical opposition to them. The latter extreme can no doubt claim the palliation that it was provoked by existing abuse. To men like Leo the Isaurian, the current worship of images seemed a dire reproach to Christianity. They did not see how, in the face of a practice having so much of the sem blance of idolatry, they could answer the taunts of Jews and Mohammedans. It struck them, that in this matter the infidel opponents had the better side of the case. 1 Kirchengeschichte, vol. v. CONTROVERSIES. 79 Thus the iconoclasts charged the image-worshippers with being the occasion of a grievous scandal. They also held up against them the prohibition contained in the second commandment given at Sinai, and referred to the act of Hezekiah in casting the brazen serpent out of the temple as a warrant for a summary dealing with any material object which seduced the people to an undue reverence. They argued that it belongs to the spirituality of Christian worship to rise above the visi ble and tangible ; that the proper objects of adoration lie, for the most part, in the unseen realm, and to at tempt to give a visible representation of them is to dis honor them. As respects the person of Christ, they attempted to construct a dilemma for their opponents, maintaining that it savored of Nestorianism to repre sent only the humanity of Christ, as if the humanity could be separated from the divinity, whereas to mingle the humanity and divinity would involve the heresy of Eutychianism. The subtlety of this last argument, such as it was, being its only recommendation, it probably accomplished little toward begetting any real conviction upon the subject. As contending against practical idolatry, the Icono clasts had a cause that was worthy, and capable of being well sustained before the bar of reason and Scripture. But they marred their opportunity by the extreme to which they carried their opposition. In warring upon images, instead of seeking simply to mend the abuse of images, they entered upon untenable ground. It was also a breach in the rational basis of their cause, that they tolerated the worship of the creature on the one hand while reprobating it on the other, commanding 80 THE MEDIAEVAL CHURCH. homage to saints while destroying their images. The Iconoclasts, moreover, were placed at a great practical disadvantage, in that they provided no adequate substi tute for what they took away, no positive source for any sustained religious enthusiasm. " There was this irremediable weakness," says Milman, " in the cause of Iconoclasm. It was a mere negative doctrine, a pro scription of those sentiments which had full possession of the popular mind, without any strong countervailing religious excitement. There was none of that appeal to principles like those of the Reformation, to the Bible, to justification by faith, to the individual sense of re sponsibility. The senses were robbed of their habitual and cherished objects of devotion, but there was no awakening of an inner life of intense and passionate piety. The cold naked walls from whence the Scrip tural histories had been effaced, the despoiled shrines, the mutilated images, could not compel the mind to a more pure and immaterial conception of God and the Saviour. It was a premature rationalism, enforced upon an unreasoning age, an attempt to spiritualize by law and edict a generation which had been unspiritual- ized by centuries of materialistic devotion. Hatred of images, in the process of the strife, might become, as it did, a fanaticism: it could never become a religion. Iconoclasm might proscribe idolatry, but it had no power of kindling a purer faith." J In supporting their side of the case, the image-wor shippers were able to adduce some very plausible con siderations. They rebutted the charge of idolatry with the declaration that the image was in no case the ulti- 1 History of Latin Christianity, vol. ii. CONTROVERSIES. 81 mate object of devotion, but only the medium of calling the object vividly before the mind. To the quotation of Old Testament prohibitions, they replied that these prohibitions were aimed, not against the use, but against the abuse of images, as might be judged from the fact that the divinely instructed artisans of the tabernacle and the temple introduced certain images into these sanctuaries, adorning the hangings with figures, and surmounting the mercy-seat with the cherubim. They claimed, moreover, that a different order of things is appropriate under the Christian dispensation from that which was admissible under the disciplinary Jewish dispensation. The religious mind, matured by Chris tian teaching, does not need the same safeguards against heathenism as were demanded by earlier times. It may nOw subsidize to its own uses whatever nature and art afford. The material is not to be disdained, since the Son of God has assumed a body. Those who disparage matter really approve the odious Manichaean heresy. The material is capable of affording most fruitful sug gestions of the spiritual and divine. Pictures take the place of books with the unlearned, and the ornamented wall of the church preaches to them more effectually than words. In the eloquent apology of John of Damascus, one of this class urges the plea : " I am too poor to possess books, I have no leisure for reading ; I enter the church, choked with the cares of the world ; the glowing colors attract my sight and delight my eyes, like a flowery meadow, and the glory of God steals imperceptibly into my soul. I gaze on the forti tude of the martyr, and the crown with which he is re warded ; and the fire of holy emulation kindles within 6 82 THE MEDIEVAL CHURCH. me, and I fall down and worship God through the martyr, and I receive salvation." 1 But with all their fair-sounding arguments, the image- worshippers were not able to conceal the defects of their position. Indeed, some of the very arguments which they paraded are a standing witness to the crude and superstitious excess which they indulged. What is to be thought of a cause which its ablest champion, the learned John of Damascus, supported by the story of the tempted recluse ? As the legend runs, the recluse was beset by the demon of licentiousness. At length the demon promised to leave him in peace if he would cease to worship the image of the Virgin, to which he was devoted. This conference was reported soon after to a certain abbot. Better, said the abbot to the recluse, to visit every brothel in the city than to keep such an engagement. The obvious conclusion, which, indeed, is drawn by the scholarly commentator, is that the demon was well aware that the crime of forsaking the worship of the image would be more deadly to the recluse than that of fornication.2 Now, when a distinguished scholar could give place to such a representation, it is quite evident that the practice of the masses must have been tinged with gross supersti tion. No speculative refinements can hide the facts. The dogmatic theory might declare the image a mere symbol or memorial, but in the popular conception it was something more : it was a thing in which super natural virtue was localized, a species of fetich. This is manifest from the miracles that were attributed to images; from the distinctions that were made, as re- 1 Milman's rendering. 2 De Imaginibus, Orat. i. CONTROVERSIES. 83 speets virtue, between different images of the same subject ; from the opinion that certain images had been sent down from heaven ; from the singular practice of selecting images to serve as sponsors at the baptism of children ; and from other beliefs and practices savoring almost as little of intelligent piety. There was abun dant cause for a righteous indignation. The fault of the Iconoclasts was not their endeavor to effect a reform, but rather their one-sided views and their tyrannical measures. Leo the Isaurian, who began the onslaught against images, was a resolute and an able commander. As such he rendered great service to the state. But for the odium awakened by his iconoclastic measures, his name might have been celebrated alongside that of Charles Martel in the list of the great benefactors of Christen dom. "Leo the Isaurian," says Freeman, "by preserv ing Byzantium and the Byzantine Empire preserved Christianity and civilization. Never were they in such awful peril as when Moslemah landed before Constanti nople." a Taking his standard from the sphere in which he was most at home, Leo was inclined to administer the affairs of the Empire in general with military rigor. Of this disposition we have a striking example in his attempt to Christianize the Jews and to make ortho dox Catholics of the Montanists by means of compulsory baptism. It was quite in accordance, then, with his approved tactics, that he undertook to banish image- worship by edict and force. The first edict was issued about the tenth year of his reign, or in 726. This, historians have generally assumed, was not so much 1 History and Conquests of the Saracens. 84 THE MEDIEVAL CHURCH. against images as against outward tokens of worship before them ; but Hefele infers that even the first edict was genuinely iconoclastic. Such undoubtedly was the nature of the decree which was issued in 730. It pro scribed images for religious uses, and ordered that the churches should be cleansed from all traces of their contaminating presence. Opposition was naturally ex cited by such summary measures. In some quarters the popular agitation passed on to the stage of open rebel lion. But Leo pursued his chosen policy, against all clamors. The aged and worthy Patriarch Germanus was retired from the episcopal throne of Constantino ple, and one who was pliant to the imperial will was put in his place. Insurrection was crushed in the East ; but in the West the Emperor found opportunity to repay the defiant attitude of the Pope only by cutting off the revenues which he derived from Calabria and Sicily. Constantine Copronymus (741-775), the son and suc cessor of Leo the Isaurian, inherited both the military talent and the hatred of images which had distinguished his father. In the first part of his reign he proceeded rather quietly ; but the uncompromising nature of his design was fully revealed in 754, as he assembled a coun cil at Constantinople to place upon images a final and authoritative seal of banishment. About three hundred and forty bishops assembled. Few of them were Icono clasts by conviction; but the whole body succumbed to the imperial will, declared that the bread and wine of the eucharist are the only proper image of Christ, denounced all material representations of the saints and the Virgin, and even cast a slur upon art itself by characterizing the craft of the painters as a "godless CONTROVERSIES. 85 and blasphemous art." But while affecting on one side such abhorrence of tying worship down to the creature, the council hurled its anathema at those who should not seek the intercessions of the Virgin, as of one above every visible and invisible thing, and having boldness of access to the God whom she bore. To execute the decisions of the council was found to be no easy task. The obsequiousness of the bishops was in no wise shared by the monks. They kept up a stubborn and vexatious opposition. At length Constan tine became so exasperated, that he cast off all restraint in his dealing with the monks. They were scourged, mutilated, banished, and even killed. An oath was exacted from the people of Constantinople, if not, in deed, of other regions, binding them henceforth to renounce image-worship. In fine, Constantine did his work as thoroughly as it could be done by force. Only a few years, however, were required to show how little had been accomplished toward the cure of the disease. During the short reign of Leo IV. (775-780), little change was effected, except that there was a relative cessation of violence. Leo himself adhered to the icon oclastic maxim. His wife Irene, on the other hand, was devotedly attached to images. On the death of her husband, as Constantine her son was in his minority, the control of affairs came into her hands. After a few years of dexterous management, the preparation for the reinstatement of images seemed complete. Accordingly, in 787 the assembly was convened at Nicaea which passes as the Seventh Ecumenical Council. It declared as emphatically in favor of images as the council of 754 had declared against them ; ordaining that images of 86 THE MEDIAEVAL CHURCH. Christ, of the Virgin, of saints, angels, and holy men, as well as the cross, whether in colors, mosaic-work, or other material, whether on the sacred vessels and vest ments, on walls and tablets, in houses and in highways, should be honored with the kiss and prostration, and worshipped, but without that peculiar adoration which is properly offered to the Divine nature alone. The council also included the gospel books, and the relics of martyrs, among the proper objects of veneration. Among the laudatory acclamations of the council of 787 was one which hailed Irene as the new Helena, and her son as the new Constantine. A poor tribute to the mother of the first Christian Emperor ! This " new Helena " was soon to appear as the author of one of the darkest crimes of history. Having ruled for her son during his minority, she became his rival as he came to years, and finally gave the climax to the unnatural struggle by causing his eyes to be put out. The barba rous deed is said to have been committed in the same chamber in which she gave him birth. While the restoration of images was acceptable to the great mass of the clergy and the people, there were some, especially among the soldiers, who had been too long and too thoroughly educated in the principles of iconoclasm to look with complacency upon the reinstate ment in the churches of the banished ornaments. So there was material for a reaction at hand. Two Emper ors of the ninth century, Leo the Armenian (813-820) and Theophilus (829-842), renewed the decrees and the harsh measures of their iconoclastic predecessors. The reaction, however, was entirely futile, as became manifest immediately after the death of Theophilus. CONTROVERSIES. 87 His widow, Theodora, who was as much attached to images as her husband had been opposed to them, forth with convened a synod, and reinstated the decrees of the Second Council of Nicaea. This was substantially the end of the battle. The grand procession which on the 19th of February, 842, marched to the church of St. Sophia, and there paid homage to the images of that sumptuous temple, may be regarded as having celebrated the permanent triumph of the cause of image-worship in the Greek Church. It should be noticed, however, that Greek custom bore a mark of compromise. Only images on plane surfaces, in painting or mosaic, claimed recognition. Sculptures, which the West had no scru ple about employing, were excluded from religious uses by the East. It remains to take note of that intermediate position which was patronized by Charlemagne, and for a time was accepted by a considerable portion of the West. This found its most elaborate exposition and defence in the " Libri Carolini," which were issued in the name of Charlemagne. How far he was their author stands in question. The suggestion that Alcuin rendered large assistance to his sovereign is so inherently probable that history practically assigns to him a foremost place in the composition of these books. Their teaching was approved by the Council of Frankfort, held under the auspices of Charlemagne in 794 ; and either the books in full, or extracts from them, were sent to the Pope. The response of the Pope was an apology for image- worship, but it had little weight with the Church in the Frankish domain. A synod convened at Paris in 825 followed the Council of Frankfort in repudiating 88 THE MEDIEVAL CHURCH. the doctrine and the authority of the Second Council of Nicaea. It is reported, also, that the same ground was taken by an English synod. The prominence of the Englishman Alcuin in the counsels of Charlemagne gives a certain color of probability to the report. Con temporary testimony, however, is wanting. Simeon of Durham, who lived not far from 1100, was the first, so far as is known, to record the supposed event. Hefele, accordingly, remarks of the report, that it does not have full claim to credence (hat nicht vollen Anspruch auf (xlaubwiirdigheiV) ?¦ The " Libri Carolini," while taking pains to disown the iconoclastic standpoint, are mainly occupied with a polemic against image-worship. The tenor of their teaching is well indicated in the following sentence : " Often in this special work of ours respecting images, we are compelled to confess that we inhibit, not the pos session, but the adoration of images, and that the viewing of them as they are placed in the churches for ornament or for commemoration of deeds is not to be eschewed, but the most presumptuous or rather superstitious ado ration of them." 2 Under the category of superstitious adoration or worship, the " Libri Carolini " reckon all acts of devotion, such as prostrations, burning lights, presenting incense. They consider in detail the argu ments of the image-worshippers. In some instances the reply is put with as much discretion as vigor. For ex ample, the plea that homage may as fitly be rendered to the images of saints as to the busts of the Emperors, is answered with the declaration that one evil custom, the product of unholy pride and pomp, cannot be made 1 Conciliengeschichte, § 403. 2 Lib. ii. cap. 13. CONTROVERSIES. 89 an excuse for another evil custom.1 Again, to the argu ment that images are necessary to revive the memory of the Saviour's sufferings and works, it is replied that believers instructed in the gospel history have a perpet ual memorial of Christ placed before the inner vision ; whereas those who depend upon outward memorials are liable, through blindness or other mischance, to be robbed of the means of remembering Christ.2 While images may be used as simple memorials, to assert their necessity is to assert a degrading dependence of Chris tians upon externals. As for prodigies that are said to have been wrought through images, it should be known that there is no warrant to worship everything that may happen to be instrumental in a wonderful event ; otherwise we should be compelled to bow the knee to the jaw-bone of the ass with which Samson slew a thou sand of the Philistines.3 Another specimen of cutting criticism is contained in the following comments passed upon the advice of the abbot to the tempted recluse : " He says that it is more fitting to violate the temple of God, than to reject the worship of things insensate. He says that it is more fitting to take the members of Christ, and make them the members of a harlot, than to contemn the worship of any craftsman's work manship."4 The " Caroline Books," while the ablest exponent of the cause to which they were devoted, failed to attain a thoroughly consistent and rational basis for opposition to image-worship, since they failed to repudiate the ven eration of saints and their relics, as also of the cross i iii. 15. 2 iv. 2. 3 iii. 25. 4 iii. 81. 90 THE MEDIEVAL CHURCH. symbol.1 There were two men, however, who lived and wrote in the closing stages of the iconoclastic controversy who had the boldness to declare against the worship of saints as well as against that of images. These two men were Agobard, Archbishop of Lyons, and Claudius, Bishop of Turin.2 3. Disputes between the Greek and the Latin Church. — The most important doctrinal difference between the East and the West is implied in the fact that the Augus- tinian anthropology never became current in the former section. This difference, however, was not made the ground of strife. The battle was waged over points of far less significance. Among these the most important was the question whether the Spirit, as to the eternal mode of His personal subsistence, proceeds from the Father alone, or from both Father and Son. The Latin Church became attached to the latter position. As early as 589 a synod at Toledo inserted the filioque clause in the Nicaeno-Constantinopolitan Creed, thus making the creed to affirm a double procession. A synod held under Charlemagne in 809 decided likewise for the double procession. The Popes at this date were indeed averse to changing the Nicene formula, but they favored the doctrine embodied in the filioque clause, and erelong i ii. 28, iii. 24. 2 Agobard indicates unmistakably his position in the following : " Dicit forsitan aliquis non se putare imagini quam adorat aliquid inesse divi- num, sed tantummodo pro honore ejus, cujus effigies est, tali earn vene- ratione donare. Cui facile respondetur, quia si imago quam adorat, Deus non est, nequaquam veneranda est, quasi pro honore sanctorum qui nequaquam divinos sibi arrogant honores, sicut multis jam supra testi- moniis est ostensum." (Lib. Cont. eorum Superstit., etc. Compare Claudius, Migne, torn. civ. col. 827.) CONTROVERSIES. 91 the Popes and the West in general laid aside all scruple about inserting the clause in the Creed. The East also objected to the enforced celibacy of the clergy below the rank of bishop, and criticised the Western use of unleavened bread in the eucharist. There were, be sides, some minor differences respecting the observance of fasts. Such matters, it would seem, should not have been made a ground of separation. And, in truth, it may be doubted whether they would have effected a schism, had they not been reinforced by causes of a much greater practical force. The entering wedge was supplied, above all, by the political separation of the two sections, and the rivalry between the bishops of the two capitals. This rivalry, which early made its appearance, was naturally imbittered as the papal claims were dis tinctly asserted. The East, whatever flattering tributes or concessions it may have made under stress of tempo rary exigencies, was never actually willing to accept a constitutional headship in the Roman Bishop. Hence minute differences were made an occasion of sharp polemics, and disagreement was aggravated into schism. The separation was a thing of gradual accomplishment. Perhaps the crisis is most suitably located at the middle of the eleventh century, when Michael Cerularius, the Patriarch of Constantinople, complained of the Latin customs, and closed the churches in Constantinople in which worship was celebrated according to the Latin rites. 4. Local Controversies of the Latin Church. — Here belong the discussions evoked by adoptionism, the question of a double predestination, and transub stantiation. 92 THE MEDIJEVAL CHURCH. The term Adoptionism describes a peculiar christo- logical development which found in the last half of the eighth century considerable currency among Spanish Christians, under the tuition of Elipandus of Toledo and Felix of Urgelis. Its special tenet consisted in the affirmation that Christ, as to His humanity, not being naturally the Son of God, needed to be adopted in order properly as man to bear this title. As the new teaching appeared to be spreading in his domain, Char lemagne thought it incumbent upon himself to place it under censure. It was accordingly condemned by several synods convened under his auspices in the last decade of the eighth century. The controversy on the subject of predestination in the ninth century was excited by the zealous and stub born defence which the monk Gottschalk gave to his assertion that the wicked, or the non-elect, are predes tinated to eternal death, as well as the righteous to eter nal life. His teaching, though perhaps diverging from the form of statement most customary with Augustine, did not differ materially from the Augustinian platform. Gottschalk, however, was called to account ; and, while distinguished sympathizers with his doctrines as well as with his personal fortunes were not wanting, he was obliged to suffer a rigorous prosecution for heresy at the hands of Rabanus Maurus, Archbishop of Mentz, and Hincmar, Archbishop of Rheims. He was" cruelly scourged (849), and then sent to the prison in which he wore out the last twenty years of his life. Through all his sufferings Gottschalk retained the same unbending mien ; even refusing upon his death-bed to renounce aught of his teachings in order to receive the com- CONTROVERSIES. 93 munion, and gain the privilege of burial in consecrated ground. This controversy was not specially fruitful, and, aside from the personal fortunes of Gottschalk, is of interest only as indicating the attitude of the age toward strict Augustinianism. As the theory of transubstantiation was formally enunciated and defended in the ninth century by Pas- chasius Radbertus, the leading scholars of the time, such as Ratramnus, were free to controvert the same, and could do so without molestation. But the drift was such through the following era, that in the eleventh century the book of Ratramnus at one of the synods, which treated of the eucharistic question, was cast into the flames ; and Berengar, the spirited and somewhat violent opponent of transubstantiation, could escape a kindred fate only by recantation. Even the good will of the powerful Hildebrand was ineffectual to shield him, for Hildebrand found the current of opposition to Berengar so strong that he could not stem it without endangering his own reputation for orthodoxy. Being destitute of the true martyr courage, Berengar twice (1059, 1079) yielded to the mandate of a Roman coun cil, and subscribed to the irrational dogma which in his heart he loathed. Berengar's own view of the eucha- rist was of the same order as had been largely current among the fathers. He allowed that Christ is in the holy supper; only maintaining that he is there after the analogy of a spiritual power or energy, and not in the way of a bodily presence. Some have supposed that Hildebrand's sympathies were with the same view, rather than with transubstantiation. Certainly he was not so strongly attached to the latter dogma as to 94 THE MEDIAEVAL CHURCH. be concerned for his own part to persecute Berengar's dissent therefrom. However, there is no adequate war rant for a positive assertion that Hildebrand disbelieved transubstantiation. 5. Heretical Sects. — The most important of these were the Paulicians. They originated in Armenia, in the seventh century. Before the close of the same cen tury the Byzantine government began to persecute them, and during the following centuries they were made the victims of destructive onslaughts. As their name is supposed to indicate, the Apostle Paul was their chief authority. In the spirit of Marcion, with whose type of Gnosticism they had a close affinity, they re jected the Old Testament and the Epistles of Peter. Ultra spiritualism, dualism, and docetism were distinc tive features in their system. They discountenanced all outward sacraments, at least all those which were practised by the Catholic Church ; imputed the physi cal world to an evil deity ; and denied the reality of the incarnation. In their total drift, therefore, they were far from the path of genuine reform, though they de clared against the worship of saints and relics. The Paulicians are said to have taught an absolute dualism. The Bogomiles, on the other hand, who arose within the bounds of the Greek Church in the eleventh cen tury, inculcated, like the earlier appearing Euchites, a modified dualism. The evil deity, as they conceived, is the eldest son of God, who became an apostate from his first estate. They were also less radical than the Paulicians in dealing with the Biblical canon, since they accepted some portions of the Old Testament as well as the entire New Testament. CONTROVERSIES. 95 Views similar to those of the Paulicians and Bogo miles were held by the obscure sectaries in the West, who were discovered at Orleans, Arras, and in the neighborhood of Turin in the early part of the eleventh century. At Orleans thirteen of them were burned at the stake in 1022. But persecution did not expel the leaven of their teachings. Sectaries holding kindred views were found in the following centuries. Among the various names by which they were called, that of Cathari was perhaps the most common. An account of the crusade against the Albigenses will give occasion for a reference to Catharist belief and practice in the next period. CHAPTER VI. CHUECH CONSTITUTION AND DISCIPLINE. I. THE RELATIONS BETWEEN CHURCH AND STATE. AS the preceding chapter has indicated, the Eastern branch of the Church continued to be largely under the sway of the Emperor. He was not strong enough, indeed, to give a settled ascendency to a scheme of doctrine or practice that was contrary to the convic tions and sympathies of the majority of the people. This was strikingly illustrated by the Monothelite and Iconoclastic controversies. But the same controversies show how wide a scope individual Emperors gave to their interference in church affairs, and to how large an extent they were able to enforce their pleasure while the sceptre was in their hands. The general loss of inde pendence on the part of the bishops was but poorly compensated by some special concessions, such as the decree of Heraclius, that clergy and monks were to an'swer for crime, not before the civil, but before the episcopal tribunal. In the West we observe a very mixed state of affairs. If the barbarian tribes were capable of a superstitious reverence for the priestly representative of God, and gave a ready assent to any specious token of super- CONSTITUTION AND DISCIPLINE. 97 natural agency, they were at the same time extremely fond of personal liberty. If the one trait made them fit subjects for the encroachments of the ecclesiastical power, the other inclined them to usurpations against that power. The history, in fact, is a history of mutual encroachments and mutual concessions, of alliance and antagonism. Church and State alike passed through the whole scale from an attitude of flattering subservi ency to that of dictatorial assumption. A measure of charity may be awarded to either party. The Church certainly could plead the weightiest mo tives for laying her hand upon the administration of the State. How else could she maintain her integrity against the rude tribes which had come within her borders ? The temporal power with which she stood face to face was often little better than brute force. Princes who had not yet gotten out of sight of hea then customs and traditions needed to be guided and restrained by Christian preceptors. The dignitaries of the Church were the most competent educators. Not only were they the chief oracles of religious truth, but they held a chief place as respects acquaintance with Roman jurisprudence and Roman administration. So the demands of her security and the sense of her superiority combined to urge the Church to strive for superiority of prerogative. Among the subjects which the Church regarded as falling under her supervision was the marriage relation. She claimed the right to declare the conditions of law ful wedlock. Thus the Synod of Mentz in 813 forbade marriages within the fourth degree of relationship. Another synod convened at the same place in 847 re- 7 98 THE MEDIAEVAL CHURCH. peated the prohibition. The Synod of Bourges in 1031 extended the prohibition to the sixth or seventh degree ; and the Synod of Rouen in 1072 excluded the seventh from the permitted degrees.1 In England, as a tem porary concession, Gregory the Great allowed marriage after the second degree ; in the eighth century the fourth degree was inhibited ; in the eleventh, the sixth degree.2 The Church claimed also the right to regulate matters of testament in which her own interests were involved. The Synod of Paris in 614 declared that no one, even under color of a royal order, is to be allowed to touch the goods of a deceased bishop, or of any other de ceased member of the clergy, till the proper agent of the Church has ascertained the provisions of his will; and that lack of exact accord with the civil form is not to invalidate the bequests of the clergy. The payment of tithes was set forth by two councils in France, in the latter part of the sixth century, as ob ligatory upon the faithful ; but it was not till the civil power gave its aid, under the Carlovingians, that the system of tithes became general and regular. The Church claimed the exemption of her consecrated servants from the ordinary tribunals of justice. The synods of Paris and Rheims in 614 and 624 declared for the excommunication of the secular judge who, with out the knowledge of the bishop, should for any cause 1 Hefele, Conciliengeschichte. 2 Lingard, Hist, and Antiq. of the Anglo-Saxon Church. The Peni tential of Theodore says : " In tertia propinquitate carnis licet nubere secundum Gracoa, in quinta, secundum Romanos . tamen in quarta non solvunt, postquam factum fuerit." CONSTITUTION AND DISCIPLINE. 99 undertake to punish one of the clergy. Other synods laid down the maxim, that crimes of the clergy should be judged by the clergy, and not by laymen. Important as was this claim, it seems to have been conceded by a capitulary of Charlemagne. In some instances the dignitaries of the Church were accorded the position of advisers or associates of the secular judges. Under Reccared in Spain it was or dained that judges should attend the synods of the Church, that they might learn how to administer piously and justly. In France bishops and nobles frequently sat together in council, and legislated on affairs both of Church and State. In England the bishops ranked with the nobles, and were regular attendants at the courts of justice. " In some respects," says Lingard, " the arch bishop enjoyed privileges in common with the monarch ; for his word, like that of the king, was received in courts of justice as equivalent to his oath, and he pos sessed the right of granting nine days' grace to the of fender whose life was sought by the family of an injured or murdered man. In all other respects he was placed on the same footing with the etheling, or princes of the blood. Other bishops ranked as ealdormen above the king's thanes, and exercised all those rights and en joyed all those emoluments to which the ealdormen were entitled. . . . Each bishop attended, either person ally or by his archdeacon, the chief courts of justice within his diocese, particularly the shiremotes, which were regularly held twice in the year. There he pre sided in company with the ealdormen, ' that they might expound God's law and the world's law.' " 1 1 Hist, and Antiq. of the Anglo-Saxon Church, chap. ii. 100 THE MEDIMVAL CHURCH. Instances were not wanting in which the Church assumed to approach directly to the person of the sov ereign, and to impose upon him, not merely spiritual censures, but sentence of deposition. The Pope, as we have seen, sanctioned the transfer of the crown to Pepin. In this instance, it is true, there was the rendering of an opinion, rather than the assumption of plenary authority. But in the next century there was an open show of authority to transfer crowns. An as sembly of bishops adjudged Lothaire unworthy to reign, and ordained that his territories should be divided be tween the two brothers who had driven him from his dominions, — Charles the Bald and Louis of Bavaria. Some years later another assembly of bishops assumed to discrown Charles the Bald, declared his subjects re leased from their allegiance, and transferred his realm to Louis.1 The case is noteworthy, as showing that the utmost stretch of ecclesiastical prerogative has not been arrogated by the Popes alone. The pressure of the Church upon the civil domain was evidently attended with some good results. It was an ameliorating force in legislation. This appears very distinctly when we compare the Visigothic code, which was largely shaped by ecclesiastics, with the other bar baric codes. " It is incomparably more rational," says Guizot, " more just, more precise ; it shows a better un derstanding of the rights of humanity, of the duties of government, of the interests of society ; it strives to attain an end more elevated and more complex than all the other barbarian codes. But at the same time, under the political point of view, it leaves society less provided 1 Hallam, Europe during the Middle Ages. CONSTITUTION AND DISCIPLINE. 101 with guaranties ; it delivers it on the one hand to the clergy, on the other to royalty." x The drawback men tioned by Guizot is of course to be estimated in connec tion with the peculiar conditions of the age. When the tendency was to anarchy, centralization of power in king or clergy was no such calamity as it would be in a more settled state of society. Among the special results of church influence, we may note the progress that was made toward the abolition of slavery. The Church steadily encouraged emancipation. The eccle siastics themselves may not always have been forward to set the example, the slaves whom they possessed being regarded in many instances as corporate property which it was not exactly lawful to alienate ; but they encouraged the practice in laymen, and by laws for the protection of the slave, as well as by the frequent prac tice of lifting him out of the servile state to the honored rank of the priesthood, abridged the gulf between him and other men. Gradually the right of sale was limited, and slavery passed over into serfdom. " Towards the end of the eighth century, the sale of slaves beyond their native provinces was in most countries prohibited. ... In the twelfth century, slaves in Europe were very rare. In the fourteenth century, slavery was almost unknown."2 The State, on its part, had obvious motives for tres passing upon the domain of the Church. The sovereign saw in the Church, not merely the representative of spiritual rule, but a wealthy corporation armed with abundant means of temporal influence. As the barba- 1 Hist, de Civ. en France, lecon x. 2 Lecky, History of European Morals. 102 THE MEDIAEVAL CHURCH. rian tribes were converted, great wealth poured into the Church. Under their old heathen rSgime, they were accustomed to make satisfaction for a great variety of crimes by the payment of fines. The idea, therefore, of compensating for their sins by offerings to the Church was congenial to their traditions, and more over was kept in lively remembrance by their clerical instructors. The language of the Merovingian King Chilperic is a striking indication of the direction of the stream in his day. As reported by Gregory of Tours, he was wont to complain in terms like these : " Behold, our treasury is impoverished; behold, our riches have been trans ferred to the churches ; bishops alone have complete rule ; our honor has perished, and has been transferred to the bishops of the cities." By gifts, legacies, and purchase, the Church came into the possession of im mense landed estates. In the opinion of Hallam, at the maximum of her ownership she held nearly one half the soil of England, and a still greater proportion in some countries of continental Europe. In dealing with such a rival, the State was not un naturally tempted to the use of some rather arbitrary expedients. Sometimes the sovereign had the bold ness to help himself to a share of ecclesiastical prop erty. More frequently the nobles laid violent hands upon the estates and the riches of the Church. " Both the bishops and convents were obliged to invest pow erful lay protectors, under the name of advocates, with considerable fiefs, as the price of their assist ance against depredators. But these advocates became too often themselves the spoilers, and oppressed the CONSTITUTION AND DISCIPLINE. 103 helpless ecclesiastics for whose defence they had been engaged." 1 The chosen expedient of the temporal rulers for ex tending their influence over the ecclesiastical domain was the control of the higher offices. Among the Franks, in particular, the royal patronage governed wellnigh the whole episcopal domain. The successors of Clovis gave the bishoprics to their favorites, to those who made them valuable presents, in some cases to those who, in the open practice of simony, made the highest bid. Protests by synods, or distinguished Popes like Gregory the Great, effected little toward checking the abuse. Charlemagne restored by enactment the canonical mode of election, but in practice seems to have given a wide sweep to his own will and pleasure in the choice of bishops. In the disturbed era that followed, instances of a glaring abuse of patronage were frequent. " A child five years old," says Hallam, " was made Arch bishop of Rheims. The see of Narbonne was purchased for another at the age of ten." The Roman Catholic historian Alzog makes this broad statement : " Charles the Bald and many other princes, on their sole motion, sent priests of the court to the metropolitans for ordi nation. Just as pliant creatures and vicious boys were set over the church at Rome in the tenth and eleventh centuries, so fared it often with the bishoprics." 2 In individual instances the controlling hand of the prince reached even to the papacy itself. Otho the Great, for example, used his influence to drive out one Pope, and sustained the one installed under his patronage against 1 Hallam, Europe during the Middle Ages. 2 Kirchengeschichte, vol. i. § 192. 104 THE MEDIAEVAL CHURCH. rival claimants. An equal stretch of prerogative was exemplified by Otho III. and Henry III. Lay patronage reached also to the lower clergy. In many instances the privilege which a law of Justinian had given to those founding or endowing a church, en titling them to a certain voice in the choice of pastors, was used in a way which left to the bishop little au thority in the settling of priests. The effect of this encroachment was in large part disastrous to the interests of the Church. The royal control tended at once to secularize the episcopacy, and to promote the practice of simony. The bishops were often of a thoroughly worldly temper, feudal lords not only in position but also in spirit. Judging from the repeated instances of legislation against the bearing of arms by ecclesiastics, some of them yielded to their fighting propensities, and appeared on the field as mili tary captains. Those who had purchased their episco pal rank were naturally none too honorable to endeavor to recompense themselves by the sale of such offices as came within their control. This Simon Magus opera tion was shamefully prevalent in the tenth century. No wonder that the more thoughtful minds began to be greatly exercised over the subject, and that some, like Hildebrand, set forth, as the first demand of a reform movement, the expulsion of the State from its control ling influence over the offices of the Church. The mutual aggressions of the spiritual and the temporal power were preparing for a great struggle. CONSTITUTION AND DISCIPLINE. 105 n. THE CLERGY IN GENERAL. While the clergy embraced the larger part of the learning of the times, it was a very humble share which fell to many of them, ^njffprpnr. ^synods thought it necessary to recommend to the priests an acquaintance with the Lord's Prayer and the Apostles' Creed. As is intimated by prohibitions that were issued from time to time, not a few in holy orders had more interest in the hunt or in the adventures of war than in study or any spiritual task. The custom of the nobles to have pri vate chapels, over which they appointed their own clients, choosing often those who had no fitness for the office, and holding them in a subservient relation, brought many unworthy members into the ranks of the clergy.1 Among the noteworthy attempts to give the clergy a better education and discipline was that which was embodied in the canonical institutes of Chrodegang of Metz, at the middle of the eighth century. This man, who was at once a prelate and a statesman, was one of the most enlightened and influential ecclesiastics of the age. To secure a better oversight and training for his clergy, he conceived the plan of gathering them into a kind of college, where they should live as a fraternity with common interests, and under a uniform system of rules. The rules which were adopted differed little from those which governed Benedictine monasteries, except that a strict renunciation of private property was 1 See Agobard of Lyons, Ad Bernardum Episcopum, De Privilegio et Jure Sacerdotii, § 11. 106 THE MEDIMVAL CHURCH. not required. The reform scheme of Chrodegang was copied in various quarters. Under Charlemagne and Louis the Pious, an attempt was made by the govern ment to extend its application. But the improvement achieved was only local and temporary. In the tenth century the canonical institutes themselves became sub ject to great abuse. An attempt in the eleventh and twelfth centuries to effect a reform by excluding private property gave rise to a new order of canons, who, in dis tinction from the old, were called canons regular. One of the most troublesome tasks in connection with the clergy grew out of the celibate scheme to which the Church in the West was committed. The clergy, in one form or another, refused to conform to this scheme. By sins of impurity, by secret wedlock, or by open wed lock, many broke through the restraints imposed upon them. In Wales an attempt to enforce celibacy in the latter part of the tenth century entirely miscarried. "The priests," says a Welsh chronicle, " were enjoined not to marry without the leave of the Pope, on which account a great disturbance took place in the diocese of Teilaw, so that it was considered best to allow matri mony to the priests." l In England, at the close of the tenth century, a large proportion of the priests lived in relations of marriage. iElfric, a noted ecclesiastic of the time, confessed that he could not cope with the practice. Though he earnestly opposed it, he still writes, " Beloved, we cannot now force you of neces sity to chastity, but we admonish you nevertheless that ye live chastely as God's ministers ought."2 Cunibert, 1 Haddan and Stubbs, i. 285. 2 Lingard, Hist, and Antiq., chap. iv. CONSTITUTION AND DISCIPLINE. 107 Bishop of Turin, carried concession still further, and freely allowed marriage to his clergy, as the most fea sible safeguard against prevalent immorality.1 In Ger many many openly avowed the marriage bond, and were ready to defend their practice as consonant with the precepts of the New Testament. The history of the councils gives ample evidence as to the strength of the current which ecclesiastical authority undertook to turn back. It shows also how restraint was apt to be avenged by unhallowed license. A large number of synods, such as that at Toledo in 633, at Rome in 743, at Soissons in 744, at Riesbach and at Freisingen in 799-800, and at Mentz in 813, forbade that any women should live in the dwellings of the clergy, except a near relative, more especially a mother or sister. Several synods, as that of Nantes in 658, and those of Mentz and Metz in 888, forbade that even near relatives of the female sex should have any place in the dwellings of the clergy ; the first two declaring that occasion had been given for the prohibition by the practice of incest. Other synods, as that of Friaul in 796 and of Pavia in 876, forbade, in general terms, the presence of any women in the abodes of the clergy. The Synod of Toledo in 655, and that of Pavia in 1018, ordained that the children who might be born to those in holy orders, whether their mothers were bond or free, should remain in slavery, and be the property of the Church.2 As regards the general state of the episcopacy, much has been indicated by the previous section. We notice here only a few special features. 1 Neander. 2 Hefele. 108 THE MEDIAEVAL CHURCH. The maxim had been established in the preceding period, that there should be no bishops at large, no ordination to the episcopal office except in connection with a specific diocese. In the present period we find the same rule repeated ; as, for example, by the Synod of Aachen in 789. But the peculiar conditions of mis sionary work made it convenient at times to break over the rule. The precedent being thus supplied, advantage was taken of it in cases where there was no demand for departure from the general custom ; and unworthy aspirants, gaining ordination by simony, made a trade of their office. References to country bishops (chorepiseopoi) indicate that this class of dignitaries still held a place in the Church. But the motive for referring to them was the desire to emphasize their inferiority, and to limit their powers. The Synod of Paris in 829, after designating the bishops as successors of the apostles, and the country bishops as successors of the seventy disciples, declared that some of the latter were guilty of usurpation in that they assumed to administer the rite of confirmation. The Synod of Metz in 888 pronounced the country bishops incompetent to dedicate churches, since in reality they are the same as presbyters (iidem sunt qui et presbyteri)?- A peculiar infringement upon the episcopal preroga tives had place for a large part of the period in Scotland and Ireland. In both of these countries, monasticism gave the standard by which official eminence was esti mated, and the bishop was subordinated to the abbot. The Abbot of Iona was the ecclesiastical chief, not only i Hefele. CONSTITUTION AND DISCIPLINE. 109 of the monks upon that island, but also of the neighbor ing Scots and Picts. This fact was noticed by Beda. "That island," he says, "has for its ruler an abbot, who is a priest, to whose direction all the province, and even the bishops, contrary to the usual method, are subject, according to the example of their first teacher, who was not a bishop, but a priest and monk." a Under this regime, it would seem that the bishop ordinarily, perhaps exclusively, discharged the function of ordain ing; but in general authority and jurisdiction he stood below the abbot. Another peculiarity was the absence of definite gradations among the bishops, and of dioce san superintendence. " Archbishop " at this time was only an honorary title in Ireland. The country was not divided up into dioceses, and the bishops were in gen eral scarcely more than pastors of single congregations. Two or more bishops often were found in connection with the same town, church, or monastery. These ir regularities were taken note of in other countries, and canons were passed to the disparagement of the Scot tish ecclesiastics (including the Irish under this term, as Ireland rather than Scotland was called Scotia far into the Middle Ages). The Synod of Chalons on the Saone in 813 decreed that ordinations by Scottish bish ops should be regarded as null ; and at the Synod of Calcuith in 816 the English prelates forbade that any of the nation of the Scots should be allowed to celebrate the sacraments, or minister otherwise in the rites of the Church. As the bonds were strengthened with Rome, there was of course an approximation to the Roman model. At the Synod of Rathbreasail in 1110, diocesan 1 Book iii. chap. 4. 110 THE MEDIEVAL CHURCH. episcopacy was established in Ireland, and in other re spects the Irish polity was conformed to that of the Church at large.1 On the Continent, if abbots were in no cases made the superiors of bishops, they were sometimes placed substantially on a parity with them. By favor of the Pope, cloisters were sometimes exempted, in important respects, from episcopal jurisdiction. This was of quite frequent occurrence in the eleventh century. In the previous centuries the bishops had been wont to make the archdeacon a special assistant, — a kind of vicar-general. In the present period a plan was intro duced which provided for several archdeacons within a single diocese. Heddo, Bishop of Strasburg, seems to have been the originator of this plan. We find him in 774 asking Pope Adrian I. to confirm the division of his diocese into seven archdiaconates.2 The circumstances of the age, on the whole, were not favorable to the growth of the metropolitan system. While the efforts of the missionary Boniface gave it an advantageous introduction, there were adverse influences in the way of its complete establishment. Wealth and patronage sometimes made a simple bishop quite a match for his metropolitan. Moreover, the disposition of the bishops to prefer a distant master to one near at hand, and their consequent habit of appealing to the Pope, ministered to the exaltation of the papal, at the expense of the metropolitan dignity. 1 Killen, Eccl. Hist, of Ireland; Grub, Eccl. Hist, of Scotland; Todd, St. Patrick. 2 Alzog, § 163. CONSTITUTION AND DISCIPLINE. Ill III. — THE PAPACY. While the drift of events was toward the establish ment of the papal theocracy, conspicuous obstacles had to be encountered on the way to this goal. There were temporal rulers of independent spirit, who cherished no thought of subordination to an ecclesiastic. As the case of Martin I. shows, the Eastern Emperor, while his power extended over the Western capital, some times made bold to treat a disagreeing Pope simply as a refractory subject ; and some of the Western rulers made it evident that even in ecclesiastical affairs they were ready to assert their own will as opposed to that of the Popes. Charlemagne, for example, in opposition to the known and long-standing position of the Popes, openly declared against the worship of images. There were also prelates who had the boldness to openly antagonize the Popes. As Gregory IV. came into France to throw the weight of his authority into the struggle between Louis the Pious and his rebellious sons, the bishops who sided with the Emperor plainly intimated that he might just as well dispense with his unrighteous interference, that they stood in no awe of his prerogatives, and that, if he should undertake to excommunicate them, he should himself go away ex communicated. Toward the close of the next century, Arnulf, Bishop of Orleans, in opposition to the dictum that the Pope alone was the judge of bishops, declared that papal authority has its conditions ; that one who is destitute of charity and is puffed up with the pride of learning sits in the temple of God as an Antichrist, 112 THE MEDIEVAL CHURCH. while one who has neither charity nor learning is only a statue or an idol in the temple, to seek a response from whom is like taking counsel of the marble. Referring to one of the most flagitious of the Popes, he exclaimed, " Is it then established, that to such shameful monsters, who are lacking in all knowledge of things divine and human, numberless priests in the whole world who are distinguished by learning and nobility of living must be subject?"1 Gerbert, the contemporary of Arnulf, used equally plain terms; maintaining that a Roman bishop who has sinned against his brethren, and refused to listen to the repeated admonitions of the Church, is to be treated as a heathen and a publican.2 Evidently such powerful voices as these only needed the proper allies to be able to throw a very serious obstacle in the way of papal supremacy. The greatest hindrance, however, to the achievement of the papal ideal, was the base lives of some of the Popes, and the degradation of the office under the ma nipulation of Italian factions. A large part of the tenth century and the earlier portion of the eleventh were, in particular, a season of disgrace with the papacy. In the former century the chair of Peter passed under the control of the Marquises of Tuscany, the Counts of Tus- culum, and, above all, the trio of infamous women, The odora and her two daughters, Marozia and Theodora. For half a century the papal dignity was the spoil of the ambitions and intrigues of these women.3 The para- 1 Concil. Remense, anno 991, cap. xxviii. Mansi, xix. 131-133. 2 Epist. ad Segwinum, Migne, torn, cxxxix. col. 267. 8 We find here perhaps the nearest approach to a female representa tive of the papal dignity. The story that a woman, who had success fully disguised her sex, was elected as the successor of Leo. IV (855), CONSTITUTION AND DISCIPLINE. 113 mours and the progeny of harlots wore the crown which had graced the brow of Gregory the Great. Among these the palm of infamy was won by Octavian, who styled himself John XII., and thus supplied the prece dent for assuming a new name which his successors have followed. According to the impeachment of a Roman synod convened under Otho the Great in 963, there is hardly a gross crime in the catalogue of which John XII. was not guilty. It was charged against him, that he had committed arson, homicide, adultery, and incest ; that he had drunk to the health of the devil, and implored the help of Jupiter and Venus at the gambling-table.1 Alzog remarks of this Pope, that " he heaped an excess of disgrace and shame upon the apos tolic dignity." 2 The interference of the German Emperors lifted the burden of infamy from the papacy for only a short interval. In the eleventh century the chair of Peter again became the spoil of local factions. A rival in wickedness of John XII. appeared in Benedict IX. Placed by patronage and power upon the papal throne at the age of twelve, he made his crimes to correspond to his extraordinary advancement. Even the debauched Romans grew weary of his excesses, and drove him from the city, installing Sylvester III. in his place. But Benedict managed to reinstate himself. He then sold out the papal office, for a thousand pounds or more of silver, to Gregory VI. Repenting, however, of his bar- though very largely credited from the thirteenth to the seventeenth cen tury, is now regarded as an exploded fable. (See Dollinger, Die Papst- fabeln des Mittelalters.) 1 Liutprandus, Liber de Rebus Gestis 0 ttonis Magni Imperatoris, § 10. 2 § 188. 8 114 THE MEDIAEVAL CHURCH. gain, he again set up as Pope. There were now three claimants of the papal chair. Again the Empire, in the person of Henry III., interfered. All three claimants were put aside. A far more respectable order of Popes was introduced, preparing the way for the powerful and far-reaching sovereignty of Gregory VII. It is quite evident, that, in order to surmount these hindrances, the papacy must have been favored with special means for strengthening its position and advan cing its power. Among these we note the following. 1. Popes of Extraordinary Ability and Force of Char acter. — The administration of a great pontiff was mani festly such a blessing, under the existing conditions, that, in spite of many unworthy incumbents, it gave a value to the office in the estimate of the nations of Europe. In the present period, there were at least two men who were qualified to give majesty to the papal prerogatives, and to make a deep impression as to the benefits of pontifical sovereignty. These two were Gregory the Great and Nicolas I. Gregory (590-604) came to the papal throne at a time of disruption and gloomy prospects. Italy was trembling before the encroaching Lombards. It seemed as though the last days had come, and the world had reached the eve of dissolution. Gregory himself shared the conviction that the end was near, if we may judge from his graphic description. "The cities," he says, " are depopulated, the castles overturned, the churches burned, the monasteries and nunneries destroyed, the farms despoiled of men and destitute of a cultivator ; the land lies in empty solitude, no possessor inhabits it ; the beasts have entered into occupancy of the places CONSTITUTION AND DISCIPLINE. 115 that formerly were held by a great multitude of men. What indeed is transpiring in other parts of the world, I know not; but in this land in which we live, the end of the world is not merely announced, but made manifest." 1 In this crisis Gregory took the helm. By reason of his commanding influence he was virtually temporal as well as spiritual ruler in Rome. According to his own testimony, it was a source of profound grief to him that he was obliged to deal so largely with the affairs of the world. In numerous epistles he complains that his office had snatched him away from the sphere of heavenly contemplations, and plunged him into such a tumult of earthly tasks and complications as to leave scarce any room for divine communion.2 And in truth, though he may have been better pleased with the papal dignity than his words indicate, there can be no doubt as to his laborious engrossment ; for he extended his oversight over matters far and near. In general he ad ministered with breadth of spirit, with discretion, with justice, and with paternal kindness to the weak, the oppressed, and the unfortunate. He was capable of preferring the spirit to the letter, the advantage of souls to the honor of traditional forms. He wrote to a Span ish bishop, in reply to his question on the mode of bap tism, that within the one faith there might be diversity of custom without prejudice to the Church.3 He an swered the missionary Augustine in a like spirit, and told him that he should feel free to adopt good institu- 1 Dialogi, lib. iii. cap. 28. 2 Migne's collection, lib. i. epist. 5, 6, 26, 30, 31. 8 Epist. i. 43. 116 THE MEDIAEVAL CHURCH. fions wherever he might find them, whether in the Roman Church or elsewhere.1 In many instances he reprobated the disposition of the people to violent and arbitrary conduct toward the Jews.2 He esteemed him self in particular the patron of widows and orphans, and charged his agents to see to it that no unjust exac tions were practised against the peasants who cultivated the papal farms.3 The record of Gregory, it is true, has its revelation of weakness, not to say of moral obliquity. He gave a ready assent to the superstitions of his age. His Dia logues are a mass of marvellous tales, such as the utmost credulity alone could take pleasure in. The way in which he answers the request of the Empress for relics of the Apostle Paul is truly astonishing.4 His proposal to exempt such Jews as should embrace Christianity from a part of the payments ordinarily required, does not show a very delicate regard for the supremacy of purely spiritual considerations.5 In one instance he departs from the maxim of tolerance which he usually urged, and advises one of his bishops of the propriety of using corporal punishments, to a certain extent, against persistent worshippers of idols.6 Especially ex posed to criticism were Gregory's joyful and flattering congratulations to Phocas, the bloody usurper who over threw the Eastern Emperor Maurice. Unless Gregory was strangely ignorant of the character and the doings of Phocas, this certainly was a sad blot upon his record ; since it reveals him as indulging a. grudge which he had entertained against Maurice, in a spirit and manner i Epist. xi. 64. 2 i. 10, 35, 47, ix. 6, xiii. 12. » i. 44, 64. 4 iv 30. * v. 8. e ix. 65 CONSTITUTION AND DISCIPLINE. 117 alike unseemly and unchristian.1 But while censure has its place, Gregory, taken all in all, was, for his age, an eminent and commanding example of the Christian bishop. Though his tone was less lofty than that of some of his successors, Gregory's view of his office did not fall much short of the full papal theory. He disclaimed, it is true, high-sounding titles, such as " universal pope " and " universal bishop." But he had a special incentive to this. To disclaim such titles gave greater force to his criticism of the Patriarch of Constantinople for styling himself universal bishop. Gregory complained bitterly of the assumption of the Eastern prelate, and declared it a fitting introduction to the proud and god less reign of Antichrist. Nevertheless, in the very let ters in which he voices his complaints, he claims for the Roman see that general oversight of the Church which one might naturally connect ' with the rejected name.2 Boniface III., therefore, was adding little or nothing to the actual claims of the papacy, when, a few years after Gregory's death, he accepted from Phocas the title which had been so obnoxious to his illustrious prede cessor. Nicolas I. (858-867) adopted a very lofty tone in dealing with princes and prelates. Indeed, he fell little short of the dictatorial manner of the most powerful autocrats who ruled from the chair of Peter in the crowning era of the papal theocracy. Like Gregory the Great, he gave dignity to his assumptions by the moral animus which in general distinguished his admin istration. 1 Epist. xiii. 31, 38. 2 See Epist. v. 18, 20, 21, ix. 68. 118 THE MEDIAEVAL CHURCH. Nicolas I. had three noteworthy encounters : (1) with Photius as the candidate of the Eastern Emperor for the episcopal throne of Constantinople ; (2) with King Lothaire II. ; (3) with Archbishop Hincmar and the bishops associated with him. In the first instance the occasion for interference was given by the arbitrary and unjust action of the government at Constantinople in deposing Ignatius and installing Photius as patriarch. Since the rival parties sued for the support of Nicolas, he had a very plausible ground for asserting his au thority. From the first he spoke as a man conscious of his headship over the whole of Christendom. Having satisfied himself that the right was with Ignatius, he boldly espoused his cause, repudiated the action of his own legates, who had been seduced into an approval of his deposition, and declared him restored to his high office. The edict of restitution is a good example of the commanding tone of Nicolas. An abridged version by Milman is as follows : " We, by the power committed to us by our Lord through St. Peter, restore our brother Ignatius to his former station, to his see, to his dignity as patriarch, and to all the honors of his office. Who ever, after the promulgation of this decree, shall presume to disturb him in the exercise of his office, separate from his communion, or dare to judge him anew without the consent of the apostolic see, if a clerk, shall share the eternal punishment of the traitor Judas ; if a layman, he has incurred the malediction of Canaan, — he is ex communicate, and will suffer the same fearful sentence from the Eternal Judge." 1 The effect of this edict, it must be allowed, was not proportionate to its authori- 1 See Mlgne, Nicolai Epist. et Decret. xlvi. CONSTITUTION AND DISCIPLINE. 119 tative tone. Photius was a very able opponent, and the success of his claim to the episcopal throne of Con stantinople depended rather upon the fluctuations of the imperial government than upon the decrees of the Roman pontiff. The attempt of Nicolas to discipline King Lothaire was occasioned by the scandalous conduct of that prince in repudiating his lawful wife, Teutberga, and marrying his mistress, Waldrada. For all this, it is true, he had the sanction of the local church authorities. But the flimsiness of the pretexts by which he and his clergy had justified the cruel treatment of the repudiated queen could not stand any searching scrutiny. Nicolas was not to be deceived. He ordered the case to be re opened before a new council, in the presence of his legates. Bribery and royal influence again secured a verdict in favor of Lothaire. This, however, had no effect upon Nicolas, except to stir him to increased energy. He declared that a council which had stooped to the patronage of an adulterer was no council at all, deposed the leading prelates who had so demeaned1 their office, and proclaimed them incompetent for any priestly function. He menaced the King with the anathema, and pressed the case against every shift and intrigue. Both the King and the prelates were humbled, and the Pope looked toward complete victory, when death snatched him from the scene. The controversy with Hincmar was provoked by the action of this able and high-spirited prelate in deposing Rothad, the Bishop of Soissons. Nicolas championed the cause of the deposed bishop, and restored him to his diocese. It was an early instance in which the Galli- 120 THE MEDIJEVAL CHURCH. can principle gave way to the Ultramontane. Nicolas took pains to assert the latter in the most unmistakable terms. The central authority of the papacy, as he maintained, is not to be regarded as limited by the local authority of metropolitans. The Pope has the right to draw the case of any bishop before his tribunal, whether it may have been previously committed to a local tribu nal or not. He alone is armed with plenary authority to judge bishops. The impression made by the reign of Nicolas I. is well indicated by the following description from a con temporary chronicler : " Since the days of the blessed Gregory, no bishop has been raised to the pontifical throne in the city of Rome who can be compared to him. He reigned over kings and tyrants, and subdued them to his authority, as if he were the master of the world. He was humble, mild, and benevolent to pious bishops and priests, who obeyed the precepts of the Lord, terrible and extreme in his rigor towards the im pious, and those who forsook the way of right ; so that one might say that another Elias had been raised up in our times at the voice of God, if not in body, at least in spirit and power." 1 The benefits of such powerful administrations as those just described were too marked to escape ap preciative attention. Very properly, therefore, they have been given a place among the aids to papal su premacy. 2. The Absence of any other Centre of Government, and the Anarchical State of Society. — The fall of the Western Empire left the Bishop of Rome the most con- 1 Chron. de Reginon, quoted by Guizot. CONSTITUTION AND DISCIPLINE. 121 spicuous representative, in the West, of a central au thority. For a short time, it is true, the towering form of Charlemagne attracted the attention of men, and the civil power overshadowed the ecclesiastical. But the empire of Charlemagne soon went to pieces. Society was separated into fragments. What wonder, then, that a feeling of reverence and appreciation was drawn to ward that abiding throne which through all vicissitudes held its place at the seat of ancient empire ? 3. Patronage of Missionary Enterprise by the Roman Bishops. — Missionaries who went forth from Rome naturally laid a foundation for Roman supremacy in the churches which they instituted. The Anglo-Saxon Church under Augustine and his successors, and the German Church under Boniface, furnish ample illus tration. 4. Appeals of Contending Parties. — Mindful only of the ends immediately before them, and careless of the ultimate result in the centralization of power, those who were engaged in a quarrel would flatter the pre rogatives of the Pope by appealing to him in the hope of securing his patronage. In fact, the overgrown practice of appealing to the Popes virtually invited them to assume the full stretch of prerogatives which they finally arrogated to themselves. 5. Acquisition of Temporal Sovereignty. — This, no doubt, was not an unmixed gain. The poor spectacle which some of the Popes made as temporal rulers served to lessen the prestige which they might have won from their ecclesiastical headship. Still, a measure of impor tance accrued to the papacy from its temporal power. The foundation of this was the grant made by Pepin in 122 THE MEDIAEVAL CHURCH. 755, and renewed by Charlemagne. The grant included the territory of the exarchate, with some additions. According to a fiction long since exploded, this terri tory was primarily conferred on the Roman see by Con stantine. Adrian I. in a letter to Charlemagne made mention of donations by the first Christian Emperor, and in the ninth century a document purporting to give the actual form of the transfer was brought for ward. The real donatioii of Constantine, it is under stood, did not extend beyond the limits of the Lateran palace. The grant of Pepin and Charlemagne no doubt assigned to the Pope a certain sovereignty over the territory in question. But it was not a complete and independent sovereignty. The papal estates were not regarded as beyond the reach of the imperial sceptre.1 Charlemagne and later Emperors claimed and exercised within them a certain ill-defined jurisdiction. It was only by gradual advances that the Popes added to their spiritual dignity the full status of temporal rulers. 6. False Decretals. — At the middle of the ninth cen tury a collection of documents appeared under the name of Isidore, referring perhaps to the Spanish bishop of the seventh century. The collection now passes un der the name of the Pseudo-Isidore Decretals.2 The 1 A public act of Leo III. clearly acknowledged the obligation of Rome to Charlemagne as respects civil allegiance. Says Einhard : " Romae, Adriano defuncto, Leo pontificatum suscepit, et mox per legatos suos claves confessionis Sancti Petri ac vexillum Romanae urbis cum aliis muneribus regi misit, rogavitque ut aliquem de suis optimatibus Romam mitteret, qui populum Romanum ad suam fidem atque subjectionem per sacramenta firmaret. Missus est ad hoc Angilbertus, abbas monasterii sancti Richarii." ( Annales Francorum, sub anno 796.) 2 Among the earliest references to these decretals is that of Hincmar CONSTITUTION AND DISCIPLINE. 123 forgery is apparent to scholarship at a glance, especially on account of the glaring anachronisms indulged. Nev ertheless, the collection was quoted by Nicolas I. a few years after its appearance, and was honored through the Middle Ages as a genuine authority. It includes about one hundred forged decretals of the Roman bishops, sixty of these being referred to a period ante rior to the death of Melchiades in 314, some genuine decretals of later bishops corrupted by interpolations, the spurious account of the donation of Constantine, and canons belonging to different centuries. The stand point assumed is that of the extreme hierarchical claims. Strong emphasis is placed upon the high position and the immunities of the clergy. The bishops in particu lar are exempted from any lower jurisdiction than that of the sovereign pontiff. The immediate aim may not have been to enlarge the papal prerogatives. There are indications that the ruling purpose was to support the clergy in general against the domination of the secular power, and the bishops in particular against the author ity of the metropolitans. The Pope is called in as the patron of the bishops. But the effect is the same as if the chief design were the strengthening of the papacy. The Popes, above all others, derived advantage from the fraud. It was a broad stone in the foundation of spiritual absolutism, and has been not inaptly described as " the boldest, most stupendous, and most successful forgery that the world has seen." 1 of Rheims, who objected not so much to their genuineness as to the use which was made of them by Hincmar of Laon. (Capitula adv. Hincma- rum Laudunensem, xxiv.) 1 Henry C. Lea, Studies in Church History. 124 THE MEDIAEVAL CHURCH. 7. The Provision for a. Mode of Electing the Popes which gave the Matter into the Hands of the Higher Clergy of Rome. — The Second Lateran Council, con vened in 1059 under Nicolas II., ordained that the cardinal bishops, or heads of the suburban churches of Rome, should have the initiative. Then the concur rence of the cardinal priests and deacons was to be asked, and finally that of the laity. For the Pope thus elected, the confirmation of the Emperor was to be so licited. But this part of the decree was worded rather ambiguously, and the council very likely cherished the expectation that in time the form of asking the Em peror's confirmation might be dispensed with. Thus was laid the foundation of the modern method of elect ing a Pope. The new measure was evidently favorable to the independence of the papacy. 8. The Asserted Right of the Pope to confirm all Elec tions of Bishops. — This development belongs to the closing part of the period. " By a constitution of Alexander II.," says Hallam, "no bishop in the Cath olic Church was to be permitted to exercise his func tions until he had received the confirmation of the Holy See, a provision of vast importance, through which, beyond perhaps any other means, Rome has sustained, and still sustains, her temporal influence, as well as her ecclesiastical supremacy." The hand of Hildebrand may be discerned in this constitution. A few years later, he was to demonstrate how amply the factors which we have enumerated had prepared the ground for papal absolutism. CONSTITUTION AND DISCIPLINE. 125 IV. — DISCIPLINE. Stated confession to a priest was not prescribed by any ecumenical decree, but was extensively practised. The rule of Chrodegang required those in his insti tutes to confess twice a year, and it may be supposed that it was counted appropriate for the laity to con fess about as often.1 For open sins a public penance was imposed. Those who confessed secret sins were privately absolved, though under condition of a cer tain penance. The performance of the penance was often subsequent to absolution. After the latter part of the seventh century, penitential books, or manuals giving instructions for the proper management of the confes sional, began to be much used. The view entertained as to the ground of confession, or the penitent's relation to the priest, was at least in part the same as in the previous period. For example, Theodulfus, Bishop of Orleans, near the end of the eighth century, emphasized the function of the priest as an adviser respecting the appropriate satisfactions, and not his prerogative judicially to absolve.2 Throughout the period absolution seems to have been expressed in the form of a supplication to God, rather than in that 1 It was first in 1215 that the minimum was fixed at once a year for all Christians having reached the age of discretion. 2 " Confessio quam sacerdotibus facimus, hoc etiam nobis adminicu- lum affert, quia accepto ab eis salutari consilio, saluberrimis poenitentiae observationibus, sive mutuis orationibus, peccatorum maculas diluimus. Confessio vero, quam soli Deo facimus in hoc juvat quia quanto nos me- mores sumus peccatorum nostrorum, tanto horum Dominus obliviscitur." (Capit. ad Presbyt. Paroch. suae, xxx.) 126 THE MEDIAEVAL CHURCH. of a judicial sentence.1 This fact has been acknowl edged by manj' Roman Catholic writers. Amort speaks of it as generally recognized by the learned in his day.2 Special points regarding the practice of confession in the Celtic Church have been given as follows : " (1) It was public rather than private. An old Irish canon speaks of confession of sins in the presence of priest and people. (2) It was optional rather than compul sory. . . . Alcuin, writing to certain brethren in Ireland, urged the practice of confession, and complained that it was reported that none of the laity were willing to make their confession to the priests. (3) It was not the custom to pronounce absolution until after the penance assigned had been fulfilled." 3 In all of these points the customs of the Celtic Church differed from the later, not from the earlier, practice of the Church at large. 1 The following are some of the forms used in the latter part of the period : — ¦• Ab omnibus judiciis quae tibi pro peccatis tuis debentur, secundum misericordiam suam, omnipotens Deus te absolvat, et parcat, et remittat, ac deleat omnia peccata tua, et perducat atque introducat te in vitam seternam. Amen." (H. J. Schmitz, die Bussbiicher und die Bussdis- ciplin der Kirche, p. 757.) " Per istam veram et puram conf essionem, quam modo mihi quamvis peccatori sacerdoti Christi fecisti, absolvat te omnipotens Deus ab omni bus judiciis, quae tibi pro peccatis tuis debentur, secundum multitudinem miserationum suarum antiquarum, et parcat ac remittat et deleat omnia peccata tua et perducat te ad vitam aeternam. Amen.'' (Ibid., p. 778.) 2 " Ab omnibus enim aut certe plerisque viris eruditis nunc admittitur, ante saeculum duodecimum aut undecimum, formam absolvendi fuisse deprecatoriam." (De Origine, Progressu, Valore, ac Fructu Iudulgen- tiarum, Pars I. § 2, p. 3.) 8 F. E. Warren, The Liturgy and Ritual of the Celtic Church, pp. 148-150. CONSTITUTION AND DISCIPLINE. 127 A peculiar mixture of severity and laxity character ized the administration of discipline. As an example of the former, we have the long periods of penance that were occasionally imposed. Thus, a monk who struck a brother of his order was condemned to do penance for twelve years, during five of which he was excluded from the communion. In the penitential books from seven to ten years of penance are found charged against no inconsiderable list of offences. But these prolonged punishments became less and less frequent. Indul gences began to be multiplied. It was discovered that penance could be made materially profitable to the Church, as well as spiritually fruitful to the subject of discipline. So instead of lengthened fasts, and exclu sion from the privileges of Christian communion, pay ments of money and the accomplishing of a pilgrimage were accepted.1 Protests against this practice were not wanting, as by the Council of Cloveshoe in 747, and of Mentz in 847 ; but by the tenth century it was largely current, and was attended with the evil results which combined laxity and legalism always produce. One of the crudest manifestations of a shallow legalism was the practice of calling in others who should expedite matters by sharing the penance. Lingard, in describ ing this practice among the Anglo-Saxons, says : " Men were willing to persuade themselves that they might atone for their crimes by substituting, in place of their 1 In the Pcenitentiale Romanum, which Schmitz places at the middle of the eighth century, we read : — " Si quis forte non potuerit jejunare, et habuerit, unde dare possit ad redimendum, si dives fuerit, pro septem hebdomadibus det solidos xx ; si autem non habuerit tantum unde dare possit, det solidos x ; si autem multum pauper fuerit, det solidos iii." (p. 473.) 128 THE MEDIAEVAL CHURCH. own, the austerities of mercenary penitents. It was in vain that the Council of Cloveshoe thundered its anathemas against their disobedience : the new doctrine was supported by the wishes and the practice of the opulent ; and its toleration was at length extorted on the condition that the sinner should undergo in person a part at least of his penance. The thane who sub mitted to embrace this expedient was commanded to lay aside his arms, to clothe himself in woollen or sack cloth, to walk barefoot, to carry in his hand the staff of a pilgrim, to maintain a certain number of poor, to watch during the night in the church, and when he slept to repose on the ground. At his summons, his friends and dependents assembled at his castle; thej' also assumed the garb of penitence ; their food was confined to bread, herbs, and water ; and these austeri ties were continued till the aggregate amount of their fasts equalled the number specified by the canons. Thus, with the assistance of one hundred and twenty associates, an opulent sinner might, in. the short space of three days, discharge the penance of a whole year. But he was admonished that it was a doubtful and dangerous experiment ; and that, if he hoped to ap pease the anger of the Almighty, he must sanctify his repentance by true contrition of heart, by frequent donations to the poor, and by fervent prayer." x The principal engines of discipline in dealing with the refractory were the excommunication and the inter dict. The former was distinguished as the lesser and the greater ; the one suspending from participation in the sacraments, the other excluding from the Church under 1 Hist and Antiq., chap. vii. CONSTITUTION AND DISCIPLINE. 129 anathema. The interdict commonly applied not merely to the person of the offender, but to a greater or less portion of his country.1 It might be imposed upon a whole county for a noble, or upon an entire realm for a prince. While an interdict was in force, the rites of religion were for the most part suspended. No services were held in the churches, at least none which were not back of closed doors. No marriage could be solemnized, no flesh eaten, no religious burial granted, except to priests, beggars, and children not above the age of two years. In fine, the whole land was regarded as resting under a penal shadow. Interdicts were not often im posed till the next period. Some assign the first in stance to the year 1031, when the county of Limoges was placed under interdict on account of the refusal of the nobles in that quarter to keep the peace ; but there appear to have been a few minor cases at an earlier date. The excommunication, as a spiritual penalty, is the common prerogative of religious society, a legitimate weapon against those who profane the Christian bond. In the Middle Ages, however, excommunication was something more than a means of spiritual censure. It had very serious temporal consequences. Intercourse with the excommunicate, except on the part of depend ents, was itself made punishable with excommunication. So, for example, the Council of Metz in 888 ordained. In some cases, also, the civil power bound itself to a kind 1 In the ultimate definition of the subject, the interdict was distin guished, (1) as personal, local, or mixed, according as it immediately affects ¦- person, a place, or both together ; (2) as general or particular, according as it extends to a whole region, or is restricted to a particular church, to a chapel, or to specified individuals. 130 THE MEDIAEVAL CHURCH. of persecution of those who had been thus unchurched, and proclaimed their disabilities before the law.1 As for the interdict, in the form which it frequently assumed, it was an attempt at high-handed terrorism, which did not scruple to trample on the rights of innocent thou sands in order to humble a single object of a righteous or unrighteous indignation. i According to English law the excommunicate person could enter into no legal contracts, and could have no place in court. No one was author ized to eat with him, or even to speak to him. If he remained under ex communication forty days, the bishop could apply to the king for his arrest and imprisonment until he should give satisfaction to the Church. In Germany the government was equally pledged to sustain spiritual censures. Sweden had perhaps the severest requisition. Laws in force till the Reformation provided that, if a man remained under excom munication for a year without seeking absolution, the king should put him to death. (Lea, Studies in Church History.) The extent to which such laws were executed depended, of course, in no small degree, upon the temper of the sovereign and his existing rela tions with the spiritual power. CHAPTER VII. WOBSHTP AND UFE. ON this subject, the closing part of the preceding period drew very distinctly the diagram for the present. As there, so also here, we find high concep tions of divine service and religious living mixed with great crudities in theory and practice. The Christian ideal was obscured by incongruous additions, rather than denied. At one point or another it received recogni tion from multitudes of devout men and women. 1. Sunday. — In the observance of Sunday, the legis lation took the standard from the stricter of the views and regulations which had place in the preceding cen turies. An English synod near the close of the seventh century ordained that, if a master should set a slave to work on Sunday, the slave should be free, and the mas ter be required to pay a fine. If the slave went to work of his own motion, he was to be scourged, or pay a fine. The freeman who should work on Sunday was to for feit his freedom, or pay a considerable sum of money. For a priest the sum was to be doubled.1 Other synods, as those of Rheims and Aries in 813, Rome in 826, and Paris in 829, prohibited trade and servile labor on Sunday. i Hefele, § 329. 132 THE MEDIEVAL CHURCH. 2. Preaching. — The importance of preaching, as a factor in the Sunday service, was not overlooked by the more enlightened minds of the age. Chrodegang of Metz, and Alcuin, strongly emphasized the indispensa ble need of preaching for the religious education of the people. Various synods, as that of Rheims in 813, and of Pavia in 876, instructed the bishops to give heed to the subject. Still, there was wide-spread and persistent neglect. A large proportion of the priests were incom petent to prepare a sermon. If they were to preach, the sermon must of necessity be put into their posses sion. This was acknowledged ; and to meet the case, it was ordained that a collection of homilies from the writings of the fathers, which were to be translated into the vernacular, should be in the hands of bishops and priests.1 3. Baptism. — The correspondence of Gregory the Great with the Spanish bishop — to which reference has already been made — indicates that the Latin Church, as well as the Greek, customarily administered baptism by the threefold immersion. Gregory decided, however, that a single immersion was equally valid. In the ad ministration of baptism, various supplementary rites were added to the application of water. Lingard, de scribing Anglo-Saxon customs, says of the candidate, " He was now anointed on the crown with the chrism in the form of the cross, and a white linen cap called a chrismal was fastened over his head. If the bishop were present, he was first confirmed ; if not, he pro ceeded immediately to the church, and attended at the 1 So Charlemagne, the Synods of Rheims and Tours in 813, and the Synod of Mentz in 847. WORSHIP AND LIFE. 133 mass. The rites of the day were concluded by his par taking of a mixture of milk and honey, which was given to him to taste, as a token that he was now introduced into the congregation of Christ, the true land of prom ise, of which the land of Canaan had been only the figure." x Clinic baptism, though in ill repute, seems, as in the earlier centuries, to have been regarded as valid baptism.2 Indeed, the Latin Church never re garded immersion as of the essence of baptism. The preferred time for baptism was Easter. The Synod of Tribur in 895 decreed that only in case of necessity should baptism occur at any other times than Easter and Whitsuntide. 4. The Eucharist. — If in the previous period the Church had been disposed to attribute a mystical signif icance to the eucharist, and to emphasize the sacrificial element therein, in the present centuries a loose rein was given to both tendencies. The consecrated bread and wine were regarded as such only in appearance, — a veil to conceal the glorified body of the Redeemer, which had taken the place of their substance. It was not, however, till the latter part of the period that the dogma of transubstantiation won a thorough ascendency. With this dogma came the complete theoretical basis for the eucharist as a sacrifice. Unbounded stress was placed upon this aspect. The table of communion was superseded by the altar of sacrifice. The main idea be came the presentation of an efficacious offering for the living, and for the dead in purgatory. In some cases, so far was the idea of fellowship lost sight of, that the priest conducted the eucharistic service entirely by 1 Chap. vii. 2 Synod of Paris, 829 ; Hefele, § 428, 134 THE MEDIAEVAL CHURCH. himself. This was not an illogical outcome of the sac rificial theory, but it was too plainly at variance with Christian tradition not to be challenged. The Synod of Mentz in 813 forbade the practice, as discordant with the language of the liturgy. One of the results of the awful sanctity attached to the elements was the with drawal of the cup from the laity. This result, however, was not reached till a later date. The laity still re ceived, though not generally at frequent intervals, an unmutilated feast. " During the whole of the Anglo- Saxon period," says Lingard, " it was administered under both kinds, first to the clergy of the Church, and then to the people." 1 Following primitive custom, there were prescriptions for mixing water with the wine. The Synod of Tribur, in 895, specified that there should be two parts of wine to one of water. We note also that synodal action was taken on the manner of receiv ing the eucharistic bread, providing that it should be placed in the mouth rather than in the hand of a lay person.2 5. Worship of Saints and Relics. — The worship of saints and their relics formed one of the most character istic features of the age. That this was carried to a gross extreme is allowed by those who might be sup posed to be most charitable toward the mediaeval model. " The frequent neglect of popular instruction," says Alzog, " necessarily engendered with the people a su perficial, materialistic tendency, which made alliance with manifold superstitions, especially a wellnigh hea thenish reverence for saints and relics." 3 Saints were really accorded the place of patron deities by the un- 1 Chap. vii. 2 Hefele, § 290. » § 200. WORSHIP AND LIFE. 135 thinking multitude. Martin of Tours received as many prayers from admiring devotees in Gaul as ever the heathen population of the region offered up to one of their gods. In some instances the form of the petition vied in crudeness with any heathen address to a deity. The petitioner, it is said, sometimes made bold to de clare to the saint, that, if he did not grant the request, no more lights should be burned before his shrine, or other honors rendered. Relics were assigned all the virtue which the heathen associated with their amulets. They were employed to solemnize covenants, and instances are on record in which the transfer of a relic was formally entered among the stipulations of a treaty. The Second Coun cil of Nicaea decreed that no churches should be conse crated without relics. The value of the merchandise naturally acted upon the supply. The chroniclers of the time give us to understand that bogus relics were paraded, and penurious and worthless men suborned to give them credit by sudden recovery from an apparent lameness or sickness. Sometimes the stealing of relics was condoned in virtue of the benevolent intent of the thief to benefit the region to which the treasure was conveyed. A love of the marvellous gathered about both the saint and his relics an innumerable group of legends, tales of marvellous doings and workings. The Lives of the Saints became an enormous literature. To the modern investigator they are largely a wilderness, an interminable mass of fiction, from which it is difficult to detach any trustworthy materials for real biographies. But to the mediaeval mind nothing was of more interest. 136 THE MEDIJEVAL CHURCH. " As these Lives were circulated freely in the language of the people, they would constitute important items in the fireside readings of the age ; and so warm was the response which they found in men of every grade, that notwithstanding feeble efforts to reform them, or at least to eliminate a few of the more monstrous and absurd, they kept their hold on Christendom at large, and are subsisting even now in the creations of the mediaeval artist." 1 The evident lack of discrimination which appeared in the distribution of the honors of saintship gave occasion to the introduction of a more regular mode of canoniza tion. At first the voice of the people, or the authority of bishops or national councils, enrolled the candidate among the saints. Not till the tenth century did the Popes begin to bring the matter under their jurisdiction. " The first instance," says Lingard, " of a solemn canon ization occurs in the year 993, when John XV., after a diligent inquiry into the life and virtues of Ulric, Bishop of Augsburg, enrolled him among the saints. It was not, however, till the beginning of the twelfth century that the privilege of canonization was reserved to the Roman see by Alexander III. From that period to the accession of Clement XIII., in 1758, one hundred and fifteen persons had been solemnly canonized." 2 While a larger share of honors was awarded to some saints than to others, provision was made in the festival of All Saints that none should be neglected. This festival was introduced into the West by Boniface IV. (608-615) on the occasion of the transformation of the 1 Hardwicke, Christian Church in the Middle Age. 2 Vol. ii. chap. x. WORSHIP AND LIFE. 137 Pantheon into a Christian church. " Baronius tells us that at the time of dedication, on May 13, the bones of martyrs from the various cemeteries were in solemn procession transferred to the church in twenty-eight carriages. From Rome the festival spread during the ninth century over the West, and Gregory IV. induced Louis the Pious in 835 to make it general in the Empire. The celebration was fixed on the 1st of November for the convenience of the people, who after harvest had a time of leisure, and were disposed to give thanks to God for all his mercies." 1 As previously indicated, among the very few who had the boldness in this period to speak against saint- wor ship, a foremost place belongs to Agobard of Lyons and Claudius of Turin. Both were opposed to all forms of creature worship, and to all trust in externals. Clau dius went so far as even to reprobate the veneration of the cross symbol. 6. Pilgrimages. — The preference of the age for phys ical expedients in atoning for sins and manifesting devo tion gave continued support to the custom of making pilgrimages. In the early part of the period, Rome was the favored resort in the West. About the year 1030 the stream began to flow toward the Holy Sepul chre.2 The practice did not escape criticism; but it i Schaff, Church Hist., vol. iv. § 99. 2 A contemporary historian thus describes the movement : " A multi tude, such as no one could have anticipated, began to flow from all quar ters toward the Saviour's tomb : first the lower class of people ; then those of middle rank ; afterwards a number of the foremost kings and counts. Finally, what had never happened before, many noble women together with those of the poorer class, proceeded thither. Some cher ished the desire that they might die before returning to their homes." (Rudulfus Glaber, Hist. Sui Temporis, iv. 6.) 138 THE MEDIAEVAL CHURCH. was too agreeable to popular thought and feeling to be held in check, notwithstanding the glaring evils to which it gave occasion. " Even when pilgrimages were most fashionable," writes Lingard, " there were many who, though they dared not condemn a devotion con secrated by the practice of ages, justly contended that their countrymen carried it to excess. They complained that by the absence of bishops the interests of the Church were abandoned ; by that of princes, the tran quillity of the State was endangered ; that journeys of devotion were undertaken to elude the penitential can ons ; and that the morality of the travellers was often impaired, instead of being improved. This last charge is forcibly corroborated by the conduct of several among the female pilgrims. Their beauty proved fatal to their chastity ; amid strangers, without a friend, perhaps without the means of subsistence, they sometimes fell victims to the arts of seduction ; and the apostle of Germany confesses, in the anguish of his zeal, that there were few cities in Lombardy or Gaul which had not witnessed the shame of some of his itinerant country women. But his remonstrances were not more success ful than those of St. Jerome and St. Gregory had been in preceding ages." x As another testimony from the times to the evils of the custom, we may quote the complaint of the Synod of Soissons, in 813, that many priests and laymen entered upon pilgrimages to Tours and Rome from superstitious and impure motives.2 7. Flagellations. — A physical expedient less com monly practised, but having its enthusiastic devotees, was that of voluntary scourgings. According to the i Vol. ii. chap. x. 2 Hefele, § 414. WORSHIP AND LIFE. 139 representations of Peter Damiani, who commended this mode of self-torture with all the power of his impas sioned rhetoric, the scourge would appear to have been laid upon the bare flesh ; for he takes special pains to teach that the contemplation of Christ despoiled of his vesture, and suspended upon the cross in the sight of men, should overcome the feeling of shame for naked ness, as well as inspire to a cheerful endurance of pain.1 In thus executing the penalty of sin against himself, the penitent, says Damiani, announces to the Supreme Judge that there is no longer any occasion for Him to enter into strict judgment against His servant. 8. Monasticism. — The age which extolled the virtue of the scourge cherished of course a high appreciation for the monastic system in general. And, indeed, the system was not without very conspicuous grounds for a favorable estimate. Who equalled the monks as con servators of learning ? Who rivalled them in mission ary zeal, in heroic self-sacrifice throughout the great enterprise of converting the barbarian tribes ? By no part of her membership was the Church more effectually served, in the era of transition, than by this class. But offsetting facts must not be overlooked. The monas teries in many cases suffered fearful demoralization. We have the testimony of a council, that of Aachen in 836, that some of the cloisters of the women had been transformed wellnigh into brothels.2 Worldly-minded abbots, put into office by secular patronage, naturally had little care to enforce a discipline upon others which they had no disposition to accept for themselves. So, 1 Opuscula, xliii., De Laude Flagellorutn. 2 Hefele, § 435. 140 THE MEDIEVAL CHURCH. in place of being a severe training-school, the monastery became often the abode of ease and luxury. The ideal, nevertheless, was not lost sight of; and now and then the voice of a reformer, like Benedict of Aniane and Dunstan, called the monks back to the strictness of the Benedictine rule. The cloister of Cluny, founded in 910, became a special centre of the reform in monas ticism. Numerous affiliated cloisters arose. As these were all under the rule of the chief abbot, they present an example of the compact organization which appears in the great orders of later times. Some beautiful characters were nurtured under the monastic regime. Where in the annals of the time can be found a more engaging figure than the head of the monastic school at Yarrow, — Beda, or the Venerable Bede, as he is usually called? What Alfred was in the early history of English kingship, that was Beda in the history of English monasticism. Gentleness, practical sagacity, unwearied industry, and warm devotion were traits which have left an indelible impress upon his life work. His energies were mainly given to the tasks of the scholar. In this field, if he was not distinguished by the highest critical acumen, he was painstaking, and sincerely desirous to subserve the interests of the exact truth. Forty-five works, covering the whole domain of theological and scientific knowledge which at that time was accessible to the West, attest his scholarly dili gence. Among these, posterity has prized most of all his invaluable history of the Anglo-Saxon Church. As to the spirit of religious devotion with which he plied his pen, we have an apt index in this prayer uttered at the close of his literary labors : " O good Jesus, who hast WORSHIP AND LIFE. 141 deigned to refresh my soul with the sweet streams of knowledge, grant that one day I may mount to Thee, who art the source of all wisdom, and remain forever in thy divine presence." A still more touching index, if possible, of the mingled piety and scholarship of Beda, is seen in the account of his closing hours. As he felt the end approaching, he was much concerned to finish his translation of the Gospel of John. Being told on the day of his death that one chapter still remained to be written, he said to his scribe, " Take thy pen, and write quickly." Again at eventide he repeated the command, as the scribe informed him that one sentence yet remained to be recorded. Then, the welcome an nouncement being made that all was finished, he replied, " You speak truth ; all is finished now." Placed by his request upon the floor of his cell, and supported in his scholar's arms, he breathed out his soul in the chant, " Glory be to the Father, and to the Son, and to the Holy Ghost." Monasticism seems to have found a congenial soil in the territory of the Anglo-Saxons. Among the inmates of the cloister were many who had known the associa tions of royal or aristocratic life. A peculiar feature was the prominence attained at one time by the heads of cloisters for women. " The abbesses," says Montalem- bert, " as we have seen by the example of Hilda, Ebba, and Elfleda, had soon an influence and authority which rivalled that of the most venerated bishops and abbots. They had often the retinue and state of princesses, espe cially when they came of royal blood. They treated with kings, bishops, and the greatest lords, on terms of perfect equality; and as the rule of the cloister does 142 THE MEDIAEVAL CHURCH. not seem to have existed for them, they are to be seen going where they please, present at all great religious and national solemnities, at the dedication of churches, and even, like the queens, taking part in the delibera tions of the national assemblies, and affixing their signatures to the charters therein granted."1 The wide-reaching influence of Hilda, who died in 680, as abbess of the monastery of Streaneshalch, is thus de scribed by Beda : " Her prudence was so great, that not only indifferent persons, but even kings and princes, as occasion offered, asked and received her advice. She obliged those who were under her direction to attend so much to the reading of the Holy Scriptures, and to ex ercise themselves so much in works of justice, that many might be there found fit for ecclesiastical duties, and to serve at the altar." 2 As the language of Beda indicates, Hilda had supervision over monks, as well as over nuns. Lingard remarks, that it was not unusual among the northern nations for a society of religious men to be placed under the government of a woman.3 Distinguished representatives of the monastic life upon the Continent might be considered, if our space per mitted. In the tenth century and the early part of the eleventh, great admiration was commanded by Nilus and Romuald in Italy, — men who, like Anthony, united with their austerities much of practical sagacity and spiritual wisdom. 9. Ordeals. — The mediaeval readiness to believe in supernatural interventions on all occasions supplied a congenial soil for the barbaric custom of deciding by 1 Monks of the West, vol. v. book xv. 2 iv. 23. 8 Hist, and Antiq., chap. v. WORSHIP AND LIFE. 143 ordeals. One form of this test was the duel, or judicial combat. This claimed a legal recognition in the Bur- gundian code, but was rigorously condemned by the Council of Valence in 855. The duel was unknown in England till after the Norman Conquest. There was also an ordeal by cold water. In this the accused was lowered by a cord into a pool. If he was able to sink so as to draw a knot at a certain distance from the end beneath the surface, he was regarded as innocent. The theory was that the pure element would accept the inno cent and reject the guilty.1 In the ordeal by hot water the accused, or his champion, plunged his naked arm into a boiling caldron, and drew out a stone which had been placed therein. The arm was then wrapped in a cloth. If it appeared healed at the end of three days, the accused was pronounced guiltless. In the ordeal by hot iron, the prisoner was expected to take the heated metal, and to walk three steps before throwing it down. The hand was then treated as in the trial by hot water. In a less usual form of this test the accused was required to walk upon or among burning ploughshares. In the ordeal of the eucharist, the Divine judgment was in voked before the consecrated bread was partaken, and it was expected that a punishment from heaven would fall upon the guilty party.2 The use of ordeals was favored by the legislation of Charlemagne. The attitude of the Church toward them was not uniform. They were opposed in one 1 So argued a man as eminent as Hincmar of Rheims, De Divortio Lothar. et Tetberg., Responsio ad Interrogat. vi. 2 See the ample discussion by Henry C. Lea, in " Superstition and Force." 144 THE MEDIEVAL CHURCH. form or another by various councils. Agobard of Lyons denounced them in toto, as a product of super stition.1 Several of the Popes also, as Nicolas I., Ste phen VI., and Alexander II., were opposed to them. Alexander III. (1159-1181) uttered against them a dis tinct prohibition. But the custom was too deeply rooted to be easily extirpated. 10. The Truce of God. — Like the ordeal, this testi fies to the power of inherited customs. It shows a consciousness of the evils of private warfare which the barbarian doctrine of revenge had sanctioned, and to which the feudal system gave ample scope ; but, at the same time, it shows a feeling of the impossibility of any total abolition of the practice. An endeavor was, therefore, made to limit what could not be entirely pro hibited. By the Truce of God, it was ordained that dur ing four days of each week, namely, from Wednesday evening to Monday morning, forcible attempts to settle quarrels must be suspended. The regulation had its rise in France, about the year 1033.2 Attempts were made to put it in force in other quarters ; and the 1 Liber adv. Legem Gundobadi ; Liber de Divinis Sententiis. Ago bard is especially pronounced in his strictures upon the judicial combat. " If in this life," he says, " the innocent were always victors, and the guilty were overcome, Pharaoh would not have slain Josiah, but Josiah Pharaoh ; Herod would not have killed John, but John Herod. These things we say, not as denying that the providence of God some times secures the acquittal of the innocent and the condemnation of the guilty ; but because it has never been decreed by God that this should take place in all cases prior to the last judgment." (Adv. Leg. Gund., § 9.) 2 A graphic account of the circumstances leading to its introduction is given by Rudulfus Glaber, Hist. Sui Temporis, iv. 4, 5. WORSHIP AND LIFE. 145 season of truce was finally extended so as to cover, not only a section of each week, but certain sacred periods of the year ; namely, from the first of Advent to Epiphany, the whole of Lent together with Eas ter, and from Ascension to the close of the week of Pentecost. 10 SECOND PERIOD. 1073-1294. INTRODUCTION. THE mediaeval stage of Christian history came to its climax between Gregory VII. and Boniface VIII. The pontificate of the former urged toward this result with powerful agency. As we pass from the pontificate of the latter, we are still, it is true, within the mediaeval horizon. But the prophecy of a new order of things meets our gaze. The horizon begins to be tinged with the dawning of that great revolution which two centu ries later was to accomplish the transition to the modern world. The period, therefore, appears remarkably well de fined. A number of great and relatively complete de velopments meet our attention. We see the causes which for centuries had been working toward papal supremacy at length bearing their perfect fruit. A theocracy is set over the nations. The most far-reach ing sovereignty ever known in Europe rules from the chair of Peter. Mediaevalism culminates on its hie rarchical side. No less also it culminates on its intel lectual side. Learning and logic show what they can do from a preconceived standpoint. As the servants of the Church, as the handmaids of the hierarchy, they 150 THE MEDIEVAL CHURCH. elaborate the gigantic system known as Scholasticism. Still further, mediaevalism culminates on the side of monastic eccentricity and enthusiasm. Great apostles of poverty, of beggary, make their appearance, and orders of mendicants take their place as favored sons of the Church, and carry their influence into every corner of Latin Christendom. Once more, mediaeval ism culminates on the side of romantic feeling and enterprise. The fire of devotion and the love of ad venture find equal satisfaction in the Crusades. All those great movements for the recovery of the Holy Land, which so enlisted the heart and commanded the resources of Europe, fell within the present period. The preceding paragraph will serve to indicate our principal topics. With respect to Scholasticism, how ever, it should be noticed that its consideration belongs more especially to the History of Doctrine. We can award it only a passing glance as a feature in the civil ization of the times. Among subsidiary themes a place is properly given to a view of the chief political de velopments of the era. CHAPTER I. POLITICAL STATUS OF THE PRINCIPAL COUNTRIES OF EUROPE. IN a brief glance at the political condition of Italy we shall find it of advantage to divide the country into three different sections, the Northern, the Central, and the Southern. In the Northern or Lombard region an important development was in progress at the opening of the period. Everywhere the cities were successfully contending for their liberties, and gaining for them selves a republican type of government. " Before the death of Henry V., in 1125, almost all the cities of Lombardy, and many of those of Tuscany, were accus tomed to elect their own magistrates, and to act as in dependent communities in waging war and in domestic government." x But this republican constitution was not of long continuance. Before the end of the thir teenth century the sovereignty in many of the Lombard republics had been concentrated in the hands of some leading citizen, and by the middle of the next century scarcely a trace of self-government remained. The flourishing condition of these cities would have made them a formidable power, had they been disposed to act the part of faithful allies and confederates. But this was prevented by their mutual jealousies and rival- 1 Hallam, Europe in the Middle Ages. 152 THE MEDIAEVAL CHURCH. Ties. So the German Emperors kept up the claim to sovereignty over this region which had been asserted by Otho the Great, and found a general acquiescence in their pretensions. Not till Frederic Barbarossa had shown a disposition to destroy their liberties were the cities driven to concerted action. The issue showed their strength when united in a common cause. The defeated Emperor was constrained to accept a truce in 1177, and six years later, at the peace of Constance, he guaranteed to the cities the full measure of self- government which they had previously claimed for themselves. In the next century three of the Italian republics, Pisa, Genoa, and Venice, began to win a high distinction for naval enterprise and commercial prosperity. The struggle between the Empire and the Papacy naturally wrought divisions within the Lombard com munities. Choice between the cause of the Popes and that of the Emperors gave rise to the celebrated party names of Guelfs and Ghibellines. These names were imported from Germany, where the rivalry of the Bava rian and the Swabian houses (the former of which was an ally of the Saxon house) had given them an associa tion with zealous partisanship. The Guelfs favored the Popes, and the Ghibellines the Emperors. But while this general antagonism lay back of the names, they seem often to have been used merely to give direction to an aimless and senseless love of faction. In Rome and Central Italy the Popes claimed the sovereignty in virtue of the donations of Pepin and Charlemagne, not to mention the appeal often made to the fictitious bestowments of the first Christian Em- POLITICAL STATUS OF EUROPE. 153 peror. But it was frequently a poor shadow of sover eignty that they were able to command. Popes who were powerful enough to uncrown distant rulers were unable to exercise a temporal sway over territory that lay under their feet. On the one hand, the Emperors stood in the way of their rule. Up to the time of In nocent III., the Prefect of Rome swore allegiance to the Emperor rather than to the Pope, and it was not till 1278 that the claim to supremacy over the domin ions of the Holy See was formally renounced by the German Emperor. On the other hand, a reluctant peo ple made it impossible for the Popes to exercise any settled control over civil affairs in their neighborhood. Rome was subject to much the same fluctuations as other Italian cities. Among the more distinguished episodes of her local government was the inauguration in the twelfth century of a republican regime, after the pattern of that bold agitator, Arnold of Brescia. The political complexion of Southern Italy in this era was, if possible, still more variegated than that of the other sections. At the beginning of the eleventh century the larger part of the southern provinces was governed by the lieutenant of the Greek Empire. The republics of Naples, Gaeta, and Amalfi acknowledged the nominal sovereignty of that empire. There were, besides, the Lombard principalities of Benevento, Sa lerno, and Capua. Internal disorders were frequent, and the unsettled state of the country was aggravated by the spoliations of the Saracens who held Sicily. But in the course of the century the map of the region was destined to be radically changed. The chief agents of the revolution were introduced by a seemingly 154 THE MEDIAEVAL CHURCH. chance incident. In the early part of the eleventh century a band of Saracens landed under the walls of Salerno. The Prince of Salerno, intimidated by their threats, was about to yield to their demand for a con tribution, when a company of about forty pilgrims asked the privilege of chastising the marauders. Sally ing bravely forth, they drove them from the vicinity. These chivalrous pilgrims were Normans. The grate ful prince loaded them with presents, and the glowing accounts which they gave to their countrymen, as they returned to Normandy, incited many of them to visit the field of their adventure. Here they found service under the patronage of various parties. A considerable company of them were employed by the Greek Em peror against the Saracens. Being poorly requited, as they deemed, for their brilliant achievements in this war, they turned their arms against the Greek domin ion in Southern Italy. The Pope, Leo IX., attempted to check their success, but was himself defeated and made prisoner, and concluded in the end to be rather the ally than the opponent of their enterprise. By 1057 Norman rule had taken the place of Greek. The conquest of Sicily followed, as also of the republics of Southern Italy. Roger II., who became ruler over this entire domain, was acknowledged by the Papacy, and received from Innocent II. the designation of King of Sicily. By the marriage of his daughter to Henry VI. the title of the kingdom passed into the Hohenstaufen family. Conradin, the last heir of this family, was put to death in 1268 by Charles of Anjou, who sought thus a secure possession of the throne which he had usurped. Favored by the Papacy, Charles gained a POLITICAL STATUS OF EUROPE. 155 wide influence in Italy. But his tyranny was at length rewarded with a great reverse. The oppressed Sicil ians entered into a conspiracy and cut off the French in their midst in the massacre of the Sicilian Vespers (1282). Improving the opportunity which this act of bloody vengeance had supplied, Peter of Aragon took possession of the island. II. Charlemagne's brilliant project of a restored Ro man Empire was not forgotten. As we have seen, the first Otho revived the project, and pursued it with energy. Likewise the more ambitious and enterprising of his successors in Germany kept the same ideal in mind. But enormous difficulties stood in the way of its realization. The Papacy was not content to hold the co-ordinate, or rather subordinate, position which it occupied during the personal rule of Charlemagne. It strove with exhaustless ambition and diligence after supremacy. It refused to be the mere ally of the Em pire, and used every spiritual and political expedient to keep the Emperor's power within bounds agreeable to its own safety and superiority. There were also great hindrances to the imperial sovereignty from within. The rivalry of princely houses, and the jealousies and ambitions of individual princes, furnished abundant fuel for rebellion. The strength and the resources of the Emperor were often severely taxed in quelling intestine disorders. In theory the imperial dignity was elective, though it was natural that a powerful ruler should be able to direct the choice to a member of his own family. The composition of the electoral college is not very exactly determined. The tendency seems to have been toward 156 THE MEDIMVAL CHURCH. a limitation of suffrage. The scheme of seven electors, so long in vogue in later times, was first made a fixed part of the constitution by the Golden Bull of Charles IV. in 1355. Toward the latter part of the period, a political fac tor which was asserting itself in other parts of Europe also came to prominence in Germany. A large number of the cities gained release from inferior jurisdiction, came into direct relation to the Empire, elected their own magistrates, and began to claim a place for their deputies in the diets. The better to conserve their privileges against the aggressions of the nobles and the bishops, the cities entered into leagues with one another. The need of protection against local usurpation natu rally inclined them to a friendly attitude toward the Emperors. For the major part of the period the imperial office was held by men of vigorous personality. This was conspicuously the case with the Hohenstaufen line. As previously mentioned, the Franconian line of Em perors ended with Henry V., in 1125. Lothaire III. followed as a single representative of the Saxon house. On his death, in 1138, the Swabian or Hohenstaufen succession commenced, the representatives of which were Conrad III., Frederic I., called Barbarossa or Red Beard, Henry VI., and Frederic II. After the death of Frederic II. in 1250, the imperial power was at such a low ebb that the ensuing twenty-two years have been styled an interregnum. Rudolf of Hapsburg, who received the imperial dignity in 1272, ruled with credit able vigor and discretion. The Empire, however, failed to gain its former footing, and continued to bear the POLITICAL STATUS OF EUROPE. 157 tokens of the defeat which had been incurred in the war with the Papacy. III. The dynasty founded by Hugh Capet in 987 continued through the whole of the period. Not till 1328 did a new house, that of Valois, succeed the long line of the Capetians. Hugh Capet, however, and a number of his successors, can hardly be called sover eigns of France. The royal domain was of limited ex tent, and the powerful vassals who possessed the greater part of the territory held wellnigh the position of in dependent rulers. But in the course of the period a radical change was effected in the distribution of sover eignty. The growth of the communes or municipali ties, with their chartered liberties, presented a counter poise to the feudal nobility. The Crusades also were a greater drain upon the nobility than upon the lower class of people. The study of the civil law began in the thirteenth century to assume a prominent place, and this study was favorable to centralized authority. As a result of these developments, increased power and prerogatives came to the crown. Under Louis VI. (1108-1137) the claims of royalty began to be asserted with aggressive energy. A check, it is true, was suffered under his feeble and unfortunate successor, Louis VII., during the latter part of whose reign the rule of the English King covered quite as much of the soil of France as did his own. But the active and politic Philip Augustus (1180-1223) turned the tide, and secured a large increase of prestige and governing power, as well as of territory, to the French crown. The rule of Louis IX. (1226-1270) was, on the whole, favorable to the royal supremacy, and Philip the Fair 158 THE MEDIAEVAL CHURCH. (1285-1314), who closes the period, carried the vigor ous and successful assertion of his will quite up to the verge of despotism. With both Philip Augustus and Philip the Fair a policy of encroachment in the interests of royalty was a thing of set purpose. Louis IX., on the other hand, while disposed to make a manful assertion of the pre rogatives of the throne, was as careful of others' rights as of his own. He ruled as he understood that the good of the people and the principles of Christianity required. The annals of royalty present no instance of a more complete enthronement of conscience. What Marcus Aurelius was in the history of Roman imperial ism, that was Louis IX. in the history of French king ship. He appears as an illustrious example of a ruler who in no wise sacrificed the requirements of manhood to the privileges of sovereignty. " If he had been poor, obscure, a priest, a monk, he could not have been more constantly and passionately preoccupied to live as Christ's faithful servant, and to insure by pious obedience upon earth his eternal salvation hereafter." 1 His domestic life was of unblemished purity. He entered into sympathetic relations with his people, and gave a ready ear to the requests of the poorest. He sought to compose the disputes of his vassals and to settle the quarrels of sovereigns, ranking the blessings of peace far above any opportunities of personal ad vantage which might accrue from the contentions of others. Great errors may indeed be charged against him. His crusading mania, at a time when the heart of Europe was no longer genuinely enlisted in the 1 Guizot, St. Louis and Calvin. POLITICAL STATUS OF EUROPE. 159 enterprise of recovering the Holy Land, indicates that he was not beyond the reach of a miscalculating enthu siasm. The penalties which he affixed to heresy, and his patronage of the Inquisition, show that he was as far as other leading representatives of the thirteenth century from understanding the law of Christian toler ance. But these were with him errors of the head. They may demonstrate that he lacked a keen and broad insight into his age, and still more the prophetic gift to transcend his age -, they do not indicate that he was wanting in purity of intention or in loyalty to duty. The mature verdict of history corresponds with the impression of contemporaries, and pronounces that Rome, relatively speaking, was not making a bad use of her assumed prerogative of canonization, when, in 1297, she proclaimed the saintship of Louis IX. IV. While the Norman Duke William was diligent in parading the title to the English throne, which, as he assumed, had come to him through the promise of his cousin, Edward the Confessor, his real title was that of conquest. The rout of Harold and the English forces in the battle of Hastings (1066) was the actual basis of his claim. William ruled too as a conqueror. He made, it is true, a certain show of respect toward the institutions of the country. He was careful to give a color of law to his proceedings. " The laws of Eng land were not formally and systematically abolished; the rights of Englishmen were not formally and syste matically disregarded." 1 The result, nevertheless, was oppression and spoliation. William had to reward his soldiers. The means of the reward were naturally 1 B. A. Freeman, History of the Norman Conquest. 160 THE MEDIAEVAL CHURCH. found in the fruits of conquest. The lands of the English were transferred to the Norman soldiers. The confiscation did not occur all at once, and was not at any time universal. But sooner or later Norman strangers came into possession of the larger part of the land. A people thus despoiled and made the un willing subjects of a heavy yoke could not of course be trusted with official responsibilities. Hence the positions of authority were given to the conquerors. Not only were Englishmen driven out from the civil dignities ; they were expelled from the ecclesiastical as well. The abbot of a cloister in Normandy was called across the Channel to fill the archbishopric of Canterbury. This foreign dignitary, the energetic and politic Lanfranc, used his authority in full harmony with the policy of William. Vacant bishoprics and abbeys were awarded to foreigners, and the transfer was hastened by a diligent improvement of all plausible occasions of deprivation. In short, England came com pletely under Norman dominion. The very thorough ness of this possession, however, tended ultimately not only to guarantee the national independence of Eng land, but also to conserve to a conspicuous degree the national traits, the heritage of the old Anglo-Saxon civilization. In proportion to the firmness of their tenure, the Normans felt at home in England. Their interests became centred there. They were ready at all hazards to defend the land against future invasions. In a word, they soon became Anglicized. As the con quest overcame divisions which previously existed, the final result was an English people more united, more truly national, than ever before. POLITICAL STATUS OF EUROPE. 161 Under the Conqueror the feudal system was inaugu rated in England. The lands of the realm were given under feudal tenure. But William was careful to modify the feudal regime in the interest of the royal supremacy. One innovation which he introduced was especially important. " By the leading principle of feuds," says Hallam, " an oath of fealty was due from the vassal to the lord of whom he immediately held his land, and to no other. The King of France, long after this period, had no feudal and scarcely any royal authority over the tenants of his vassals. But William received at Salisbury, in 1085, the fealty of all land holders in England, both those who held in chief and their tenants, thus breaking in upon the feudal compact in its most essential attribute, the exclusive depend ence of a vassal upon his lord. And this may be reck oned among the several causes which prevented the Continental notions of independence upon the crown from ever taking root among the English aristocracy." 1 Most of the kings who followed William were not so competent as he to maintain an arbitrary author ity. But the vantage ground which he had sup plied made itself manifest, and the royal prerogative was often pressed to the border of arbitrary and tyran nical rule. Happily the nation was not destitute of material for a reaction against royal oppression. Under the galling despotism of John, such a united movement was made for constitutional limitations, that the King was constrained by the apparent necessity of the case 1 Europe during the Middle Ages, chap. viii. 11 162 THE MEDIAEVAL CHURCH. to affix his signature to the Great Charter (1215). This instrument was of broad scope, and well fitted to serve as a corner stone of constitutional liberty. The privileges of the clergy were confirmed. The barons were secured against certain special grievances. The rights and immunities of the lower vassals were as serted. The King was restricted in the levying of taxes. A safeguard to the person and property of the indi vidual was furnished in this celebrated provision : " No freeman shall be taken or imprisoned, or be disseised of his freehold, or liberties, or free customs, or be out lawed, or exiled, or any otherwise destroyed ; nor will we pass upon him, nor send upon him, but by lawful judgment of his peers, or by the law of the land ; we will not deny or delay to any man justice or right." Referring to this great event in the constitutional history of England, a distinguished French writer has remarked : " For the first time there appeared to the Middle Ages the imposing spectacle of a nation uniting its different classes and laboring in a body to substitute the reign of law for arbitrary rule." 1 As respects the ecclesiastical relations of England, the Norman Conquest favored the scheme of centraliza tion which began in that era to be so vigorous! y cham pioned. The strong personality of William, it is true, stood in the way of papal rule in England. Greg ory VII. treated him with an exceptional deference, allowing him to practise an interference in the affairs of the Church which he was ready to punish with the anathema in other sovereigns. But the Conquest brought into the chief positions a clergy which had 1 Martin, Histoire de France, tome iv. POLITICAL STATUS OF EUROPE. 163 been trained under the more direct influence of the papal regime. The Pope was also fortunate in having a very effective ally in the second of the Archbishops of Canterbury under the Norman rule. The fact that it was the saintly Anselm who withstood the King's prerogative in the ecclesiastical domain, and appealed to the Pope as the higher authority, was specially adapted to support the claims of the latter. The ulti mate result, therefore, was in the direction of the papal supremacy over England. V. The conquest of Spain by the Mohammedans had not long been effected before its reconquest by the Christians commenced. Lapse into relative indolence and luxury on the part of the conquerors, and the springing up of party divisions among them, gave the conquered opportunities of successful attack. The Mo hammedans, it is true, manifested an aggressive spirit and power of recovery under the able leadership of Almanzor at the end of the tenth century; but this revival of their fortunes proved to be only temporary. During the eleventh century the victory was almost always with the Christians , and such Christian states as Leon, Castile, and Aragon attained a good measure of prosperity. A long time, however, was still to elapse before the complete overthrow of the Arabic dominion in Spain. The work of reconquest was re laxed, and it was not till after the consolidation of the kingdoms of Aragon and Castile under Ferdinand and Isabella that the final victory was achieved. The sur render of Grenada in 1492 proclaimed for the first time the complete restoration of Spain to Christian sover eignty. 164 THE MEDIEVAL CHURCH. A closer consideration of the political developments of the Spanish kingdoms hardly comes within the scope of our inquiry. We notice simply that a commendable effort was made to place the power of the sovereign under constitutional checks. Both in Castile and Ara gon the principle of limited monarchy was very clearly and emphatically asserted. CHAPTER II. THE PAPAL THEOCRACY AND OTHER FEATURES OF CHURCH CONSTITUTION. I. — GREGORY VH. AND HIS MORE IMMEDIATE SUCCESSORS. THE establishment of a theocracy over the restless nations of the Occident was no easy task. How ever numerous and great the other helps may have been, there was still the need of the personality of extra ordinary men. Only an ecclesiastical Caesar, a man of imperial energy and will, was competent to establish the new empire of Rome. And even such an agent stood always dangerously near to the borders of failure. Events occurred during the reigns of the mightiest of the ecclesiastical monarchs which plainly prophesied that the descent must erelong be made from enormous power to discredited pretension. The papal ideal was a dream of the imagination, a thing outside the sphere of possible realization ; and such approach to it as was made was accomplished only at the expense of an extreme tension which could not be lasting. Among those who attempted to build up the papal theocracy, none were better qualified for the herculean task than Gregory VII. As a youth, he had used the 166 THE MEDIAEVAL CHURCH. monastic discipline to establish a habit of self-control and hardihood. So the cloister in his case, as in that of many others, was not so much the gateway to se clusion from the world as a place of training for un usual activity in the world. He went forth to grapple with affairs. For the twenty-five years preceding his election to the papacy, he stood, so to speak, upon the threshold of the office. He was the influential associate, counsellor, and legate of the Popes. The important administrations of Leo IX., Nicolas II., and Alexan der II. were largely shaped by his hand. He had already been trained to rule when he took the sceptre, and he understood his domain, no man of the age hav ing a clearer outlook upon both the political and the ecclesiastical condition of Europe. Gregory derived no small measure of support from the moral respect which he commanded. In physical qualities he was without special advantage, unless the courage which preserves an appearance of perfect com posure in the midst of tumult and danger be numbered among such qualities. With this sort of courage he was no doubt highly endowed, as was illustrated in the early part of his pontificate, when the outlaw Censius and his band broke in upon the evening solemnities in the church of Santa Maria Maggiore, dragged the Pope from his ministrations at the altar, and hurried him off to a tower. In an emergency like this Gregory was able to preserve the majesty of his position by a fit ting exhibition of calmness. But he was not a man of imposing physique, and in his habitual relations with men commanded reverence mainly on the basis of the moral impression which he was able to make. His life THE PAPAL THEOCRACY. 167 was undoubtedly pure and austere. The enmity which his reform policy called forth gave occasion indeed to accusations of gross immoralities. But these have too little show of foundation to require any serious refuta tion. By numerous acts of his administration he de clared himself above the ordinary vices of the Roman court. He was inaccessible to bribes. A count whose unlawful connections had brought him under spiritual censures hoped by gifts to gain indulgence from the Pope. But he found himself utterly mistaken. Greg ory sent back the presents, and informed him that he could accept nothing from him till he had renounced his sin, and meanwhile could only pray for the divine compassion upon him. In answer to the generous re quest of the English Queen, Matilda, to name the gift which he most desired of her, Gregory wrote : " What gold, what gems, what treasures of this world should I desire from you more than a chaste life, distribution of your goods to the poor, love of God and your neigh bor ? These and gifts like unto these are what I de sire at your hands." 1 A German bishop, Hermann of Bamberg, who had been deposed on account of simony, sought to recover himself by going to Rome furnished with gold and advocates. He found the Pope deaf to all such appeals, and determined to exact the full penalty for his misdeeds. Along with this general probity of life Gregory gave some indications of a more than average breadth and liberality of spirit. The history of his dealing with Berengar indicates that for his own part he was disin clined to persecute him for his denial of transubstantia- 1 Lib. vii. epist. 26. 168 THE MEDIAEVAL CHURCH. tion, and was rather disturbed than pleased by the crusade which was gotten up against the keen contro versialist. Again he showed himself able to surmount his prejudice and the prejudice of his age in favor of monasticism, and rebuked the Abbot of Cluny for open ing the doors of the cloister to a man who was needed in the world. The terms of the rebuke were very em phatic, as will appear from the following : " Behold, those who seem to fear or to love God flee from the warfare of Christ, make secondary the salvation of their brethren, and, loving only themselves, seek a quiet retreat. The shepherds flee ; flee also the dogs and the defenders of the flocks. Wolves and robbers un opposed attack the sheep of Christ. You have taken or received a pious duke into the quiet of Cluny, and you have deprived a hundred thousand Christians of their protector." 1 It is furthermore recorded in favor of Gregory's enlightenment and liberality that he com manded the King of Denmark to put a stop to his cruel and foolish persecution of innocent women accused of magic, forbidding him to harbor the notion that the judgments of God were to be escaped, and not rather increased, by such means.2 We see then that Gregory brought to his pontificate such personal traits as would naturally command re spect, and lessen umbrage at the usurpation of un bounded authority. His election came as a spontaneous tribute to his fitness for the high office. Moreover, there was a consciousness that his relation to the bold est measures of the preceding administration marked 1 Lib. vi. epist. 17. 2 Lib. vii. epist. 21. THE PAPAL THEOCRACY. 169 him out as the only man for the exigency. " The re cent decrees of Alexander II.," says Villemain, " sum moning King Henry to the bar of the Council of Rome, made it impossible to choose any other Pope than Hilde brand, the intrepid adviser of this bold step." 1 Accord ingly, the acclamations of priests and people summoned him to this office. While he was yet celebrating the obsequies of his predecessor they thronged around the archdeacon and exclaimed, " Hildebrand is Pope ; bles sed Peter has elected Hildebrand." The cardinals, as it appeared, were equally ready and decided in their choice. So the Archdeacon Hildebrand stepped from virtual into acknowledged rule, and began to administer the affairs of Christendom as Gregory VII. Gregory professed to be utterly unwilling to accept the honor that was thrust upon him. According to one account he carried his reluctance so far as to re quest the German Emperor to withhold the confirma tion which he was expected to ask (in conformity with a custom that expired with his pontificate), at the same time warning him that, if he were confirmed in the papal office, he must inflict punishment for imperial misdeeds. This account has been challenged by vari ous historians. Alzog, however, accepts it, and says that it is supported by the testimony of Hildebrand's friend Bonizo of Turin, by the Acta Vaticana, and by the Abbot William of Metz.2 Very likely it was with some inward shrinkings that Gregory contemplated the position of supreme pontiff. While we are not obliged to take his professions in all their breadth, we may 1 Life of Gregory VII., book iii. a Kirchengeschichte, § 214. 170 THE MEDIAEVAL CHURCH. readily believe that the eager thirst for power, natural to a strong and aggressive personality, was in a measure neutralized by a sense of its weighty responsibilities. Gregory was too well informed respecting the state of Europe not to foresee the burdens involved in a faith ful discharge of ecclesiastical headship. Letters to his friends in the early years of his pontificate indicate how deeply he felt the miseries and responsibilities of authority over a corrupt Church in the midst of dis ordered states. In 1074 he wrote to the Countess Beatrice and her daughter Matilda in the following strain : " Know for the rest, that, contrary to the ex pectation of all who were with us, we have escaped infirmity of body and have recovered good health, — a cause rather for grief to us than of rejoicing, as we think. For our soul was tending toward, and with full desire was panting after, that country in which He who has regard to our labor and grief affords rest and refuge to the weary. But reserved still to our customary la bors and boundless anxieties, we suffer each hour as it were the sorrows and pangs of one giving birth, while we are unable by any means of guidance to rescue the Church going to wreck almost under our eyes." 1 The next year, writing to Hugo, Abbot of Cluny, he be sought him to pour out his heart in tears and supplica tions to Christ, that He might deign to deliver His wretched servant. " For," he continues, " I have often besought Him either to take me from the present life, or to make me useful to our common mother [the Church] ; but nevertheless He has not yet rescued me from great tribulation, nor made my life useful as I had 1 Lib. ii. epist. 9. THE PAPAL THEOCRACY. 171 hoped to that mother with whose cords He has bound me. Exceeding grief compasses me, and sorrow with out bounds, because the Oriental Church by the insti gation of the devil has fallen away from the Catholic faith. If I look with the glance of the mind toward the parts of the West, or of the South, or of the North, I find scarcely anywhere bishops who are such by law ful election and mode of life, who rule the Christian people in the love of Christ and not through worldly ambition ; and among all secular princes I do not find any who prefer the honor of God to their own, and righteousness to gain. As for those among whom I dwell, Romans, Lombards, and Normans, as I often tell them, I pronounce them to be in a manner worse than Jews and Pagans. When I return to myself, I find my self so borne down by the weight of my own conduct that there remains no hope of salvation save through the compassion of Christ alone. If I did not hope to attain unto a better life, and to become of profit to the holy Church, I would on no account remain at Rome, where, as I call God to witness, I have dwelt by com pulsion these twenty years. Whence it results, that between sorrow daily renewed and a hope which, alas, is delayed too long, shaken by a thousand tempests, I am so to speak dying while I live." l It is quite evident from these testimonies, that in the experience of Gregory the burden was fully equal to the elation of power. Nevertheless, he had no disposi tion to relinquish aught of the prerogatives of his office ; and his interpretation of those prerogatives was of the boldest kind. As the head of the Church, the 1 Lib. ii. epist. 49. 172 THE MEDIEVAL CHURCH. vicegerent of Christ, he claimed to be without peer or rival upon earth, having the oversight not only of ec clesiastical affairs, but also of the secular so far as con nected with moral and religious interests, possessing a sovereignty which is related to that of earthly princes as the sun to the moon, engaged, it may be, to leave the temporal throne standing, but competent to expel an incumbent and to install another in his place. In short, Gregory conceived of Christendom as a theoc racy in which the Pope as the visible representative of God held the supreme authority. Leading Roman Catholic historians freely allow that this was his con ception. Says Alzog : " We believe with Hefele that Gregory's idea was as follows : Since he saw the world of that time under the power of evil, and clearly dis cerned that the Pope alone could rescue from the cor ruption, there hovered before him the majestic plan of a universal theocracy. This was to embrace all the king doms of the Christian name, especially of the West, in one great community, whose supreme code was to be the commands of God. The administrator of the same was to be the Pope, as the visible representa tive of God, having a spiritual sovereignty which is related to the earthly sovereignty of kings as the sun to the moon, the one being the source of the light and warmth of the other ; in virtue of which relation, however, the Papacy is never to destroy the power of the civil lords, or rob them of their sovereignty [that is, as a class] . On the other hand, the sovereignty of the civil lord must bow to the higher sovereignty of God ; and if the civil lord disallows this, he should be expelled from the theocratic union and thereby rendered THE PAPAL THEOCRACY. 173 incapable of being longer the representative of God as the ruler of an individual realm." l As the same writer remarks, this idea was not new, but was asserted by Gregory more definitely and emphatically than by his predecessors. In truth, Gregory left no shadow of doubt about his opinion of the complete subordination of kings to papal authority. He argued that the power of absolution which belongs to the priesthood, upon which all kings and princes are dependent, and of which they are especially desirous to avail themselves when confronted by death, gives to the priesthood a vast superiority over the secular order ; that the Pope is the head of the priesthood and the supreme exponent of its absolving power ; that he to whom the spiritual order is subject must be, with still larger right, judge over the inferior secular order.2 At a council in Rome in 1080, giving the most sweeping application to the inference from the power of binding and loosing, he said : " So act, I beseech you, most holy fathers and princes, that all the world may know and understand that, if you are able to bind and loose in heaven, you are able upon earth to take away, and to give to whom ever you please, empires, kingdoms, princedoms, duchies, margravates, countships, and the possessions of all men according to their deserts." Here, to be sure, the Pope speaks of the prerogatives of the assembled prelates; but in this he was only taking an indirect way to assert the authority which he claimed for himself. In a number of instances Gregory borrowed from feudal terms a representation of the subordinate posi- 1 Kirchengeschichte, § 214. 2 Lib. iv. epist. 2 ; lib. viii. epist. 21. 174 THE MEDIAEVAL CHURCH. tion of sovereigns, and claimed from them an acknowl edgment of vassalage. He looked upon Spain as a fief of the papacy, and in the first year of his pontificate announced his claim to the Spanish princes in these terms : " You are not unaware, as we think, that the kingdom of Spain belonged anciently by a proper right to St. Peter, and that, although it has been occupied a long time by pagans, the law of justice not having been annulled, it belongs still in equity to no mortal but to the apostolic seat alone." 1 He preferred a bike claim to the kingdom of Hungary.2 He asked a pledge of fealty from William I. of England, — an unfortunate demand in this case, for the Conqueror replied that he had no notion of rendering this token of vassalage : " Fidelitatem facere nolui, nee volo : quia nee promisi, nee antecessores meos antecessoribus tuis id fecisse comperio." A purpose to signify the vassal relation of the German realm may be discerned in the inscription, Petra dedit Petro, Petrus diadema Rudolfo, which is said to have been graven upon the crown which Greg ory sent to Rudolph, the competitor of Henry IV. for the rule of Germany. In the practical maintenance of theocratic sovereignty over Christendom Gregory made much use of the legate system. Through his ambassadors, whom he held to a strict accountability, he made himself virtually present in all quarters. The outlying countries attracted his attention. He wrote to the King of Sweden to send representatives of the priesthood of his country to Rome that they might give information respecting their own 1 Lib. i. epist. 7 ; compare lib. iv. epist. 28. 2 Lib. ii. epist. 14. THE PAPAL THEOCRACY. 175 land, and become better acquainted with the Roman system. He made a similar request of the King of Norway, directing him to select youths of promise and rank, who after being placed under Roman tuition might be qualified to teach their countrymen. Nor did he confine his attention to the West. He broached the great project of the Crusades, which was to fill the at tention of Europe for the next two centuries, and assigned as a leading motive for such a project the probability that it would result in reuniting the Eastern and Western branches of the Church.1 That the re united Church would be under the supreme authority of the Roman pontiff was, of course, taken for granted. Among the preliminaries to the proper enthronement of the ecclesiastical over the civil power, Gregory saw clearly that the abolition of the practice of lay investi ture must be included. It was perfectly evident that independence must be secured before a proper pre-emi nence could be asserted. So long as bishops elect could not enter upon their sees until they had received the ring and the staff from the civil lord, they must be de pendent upon him. In the view of the civil lord, such dependence was indeed no more than ought to be ac knowledged. The temporalities of the bishoprics had been given, at least in many cases, under feudal tenure. It was claimed, therefore, by the civil lord, that the bishop ought to give him a token of his obligation, ought to receive at his hands the ring and the staff; not as though he obtained from this source his spiritual functions, but only the permit to enter upon temporali ties for which he was indebted to the temporal power. 1 Lib. ii. epist. 31. 176 THE MEDIAEVAL CHURCH. The plea was not without a good measure of plausi bility, and it is not strange that sovereigns were unwill ing to relinquish the prerogative of investiture. They could not be expected to receive with complacency the demand to abandon so important an item of control over estates and men. But Gregory from his stand point was bound to insist upon this demand. He could not tolerate the notion that the Church should be thus dependent upon the State. Moreover, the practice of lay investiture was obnoxious to the Pope, as being accessory to a crying abuse of the times which he was determined to uproot, — the pestilential sin of simony. In the view of Gregory there was another great abuse, the marriage of the clergy, — an abuse which, as he conceived, might well draw down the anathemas of heaven and earth, a thing in glaring contravention of the legislation of the Church and subversive of the sanctity and distinctive character of the priestly office. The three principal items then in the reform scheme of Gregory were, (1) the enforced celibacy of the clergy, (2) the uprooting of the practice of simony, (3) the achievement of the independence of the Church by the abolition of lay investiture, or, more broadly speaking, the expulsion of the temporal power from its interfer ence with ecclesiastical offices. In prosecuting these measures of reform, Gregory might have come about equally into collision with Eng land, France, and Germany, so far as the practices of those countries were concerned. But as a matter of fact, there was no conflict with England ; and, while Gregory early made his complaints against the King of France, and called upon the French bishops to tame THE PAPAL THEOCRACY. 177 their tyrant, declaring that unless he mended his ways resort should be had to interdict and deposition,1 his dealing with the French monarch appears only as a passing episode. The great conflict which fills the whole horizon of Gregory's pontificate was that waged with Henry IV. of Germany and his allies. In the year 1074 the reforming pontiff sent forth the first blast of the trumpet, and it was no uncertain sound which fell upon the ears of the nations. Through a council convened at Rome, it was decreed that all priests living in relations of marriage or concubinage must put away their partners at once on pain of sus pension, and that all candidates for the priesthood must engage to live in perpetual celibacy. The crime of simony seems also to have been denounced at the same time, and suspension from the service of the altar de clared against those implicated therein. But the point commanding most attention in the decree of 1074 was the absolute prohibition of marriage to the clergy. Though this was only the reassertion of a law which had long been on the statute-book of the Church, so widely had the practice diverged from the law, that its emphatic restatement by Gregory was received in large part as though a revolutionary edict had suddenly, been launched forth. In Germany, in particular, there was a great ferment. As Lambert of Aschaffenburg reports, a large proportion of the clergy vehemently denounced the decree of the Pope, as worthy only of a heretic, a man of insane beliefs, who had overlooked the declara tion of the Lord that not all can receive the law of virginity,2 and the explicit permit of the apostle that i Lib. ii. epist. 5. " Matt. xix. 11, 12. 12 178 THE MEDIAEVAL CHURCH. those convinced of their inability to live in continence should marry.1 They insisted that the imposition of such a violent check upon the course of nature would eventuate in fornication and uncleanness, and expressed an intention, if the matter should be pressed, to for sake the priesthood rather than their wives ; and then the Pope, who was not content with the service of men, might make shift as he could to secure the ministrations oi angels in the churches. Instances are reported in which prelates and papal legates who attempted to en^ force the decree found it necessary to forbear in order to save their lives, so great was the fury with which they were assailed. In a number of countries there were outbreaks of violence. But Gregory was unflinch ing, and in answer to requests for some amelioration of the decree refused to abate an iota of his requirement. He had expected fierce opposition, and from the first prepared for it by appealing to the laity. He exhorted the people to have nothing to do with the married priests, and sent instructions to prominent laymen to prevent such priests by force, if need be, from exercis ing their functions, — expedients not very well in har mony with the maxims which the Church had been striving to inculcate respecting the immunity of the clergy from accusation and judgment at the hands of hvymen. Gregory found allies. The monks, among others, were generally faithful supporters of the decree of celibacy. But the immediate success was far from complete. In England the authorities made no at tempt to separate the parish clergy from their wives, i 1 Cor. vii. 5, 9, 10. THE PAPAL THEOCRACY. 179 and acquiesced in the scheme of Gregory only to the extent of forbidding marriages to be contracted in the future. In the practice of many countries, as will be noticed subsequently, the rule of celibacy continued to be very poorly observed. Nevertheless, the bold and vigorous action of Gregory was not a failure. The scheme of clerical celibacy received from him an im pulse which assured its triumph in the papal com munion. In 1075 Gregory proceeded to a decisive attack upon simony and lay investiture. At the council which he convened in Rome, besides passing censures upon in dividuals, he issued the following decree : " If any one henceforth shall receive a bishopric or abbey from the hand of any lay person, he shall not be regarded as bishop or abbot, nor shall any audience be given him as bishop or abbot; moreover, we interdict him the grace of St. Peter and entrance into the Church, so long as he shall not penitently forsake the position which he has taken through the crime of ambition as well as of disobedience, which is the impious sin of idolatry. We make a similar ordinance also respect ing the inferior ecclesiastical dignities. Likewise, if any emperor, king, duke, margrave, count, or any secu lar power or persons, shall presume to give investiture of a bishopric, or any ecclesiastical dignity, let him know that he is bound with the fetters of the same sentence." 1 However unwelcome such a measure was to the young sovereign of Germany, he found it convenient to temporize for the time being. The better capabilities 1 Quoted by Gieseler, Kirchengeschichte, § 47. 180 THE MEDIJEVAL CHURCH. of Henry IV. had been kept in abeyance by the misera ble and corrupting influence of his educators. Through his own misrule and that of his principal advisers he had alienated a large part of his subjects. A stubborn revolt had broken out among the Saxons. Being thus hampered by the disturbed condition of his realm, Henry thought it best to make a show of submission to the requirements of Gregory. The Pope very likely did not feel secure of the continued fidelity of Henry ; but he addressed him in friendly terms, and commended him for the support which he gave to his reformatory degrees.1 This style of intercourse, however, came speedily to a close. The whole party in Germany which was touched by the new edicts naturally sought to en list the Emperor on its side. For his own part, too, he vehemently disliked the Pope's interference. No sooner, then, had he won freedom of action by victory over the Saxons, than he made a radical change of bearing. Gregory learned that he was associating with the excommunicated, and was filling bishoprics at his pleasure. He therefore sent him an admonitory letter, giving instructions at the same time to the bearer to tell him that he deserved to lose his crown, and would certainly be excommunicated unless he should forth with mend his ways. If the report of a contemporary writer may be trusted, Henry was even cited to answer for his misdeeds before a Roman synod.2 A monarch with any sense of self-respect could not 1 Lib. iii. epist. 3. 2 Giesebrecht is of the opinion that this item, which rests on the authority of Lambert, is not to be accepted. (Geschichte der deutschen Kaiserzeit, iii. 384.) THE PAPAL THEOCRACY. 181 easily endure to be corrected in such a dictatorial fash ion. A respectful defiance was certainly in order. But Henry gave way to an unseemly and impolitic burst of passion. At a synod convened at Worms in Janu ary, 1076, the most scandalous charges were preferred against the Pope, and he was declared deposed. A letter which accompanied the sentence of deposition began with this address : " Henry, not by usurpation, but by God's ordinance King, to Hildebrand, no longer Pope, but the false monk." Here surely was a sufficient invitation to the thun derbolts of the haughty vicegerent. As it happened, Henry's messenger reached Rome when a council, which doubtless was designed to pay special attention to his case, had been convened by the Pope. Coming into the presence of the assembly, the messenger delivered the sentence of deposition. A loud outcry arose, and it seemed probable that the daring ambassador would pay for his audacity with his life. But Gregory inter posed, and prepared a response more agreeable to the majesty of his office. In language impregnated with the loftiest assumptions of pontifical sovereignty, he issued his sentence. Having appealed to St. Peter, as the successor of whom he had received the power of binding and loosing, he continued : " Armed with this confidence, for the honor and defence of thy Church, in the name of the omnipotent God, Father, Son, and Holy Spirit, through thy power and authority, I inter dict Henry the King, son of Henry the Emperor, who with unexampled pride has risen up against thy Church, from the government of the whole realm of Germany and Italy, and I absolve all Christians from the obliga- 182 THE MEDIEVAL CHURCH. tion of the oaths which they have sworn or shall swear to him, and I forbid that any one should serve him as King. For it is fitting that he who assails the honor of thy Church should himself lose the honor which he seems to have. And because he has contemned the obedience which befits a Christian, and refused to re turn to the Lord he renounced, by associating with the excommunicate, by spurning my counsels, which, as thou knowest, I have given him for his salvation, and by separating himself from thy Church as a patron of schism, I bind him in thy name and in the bonds of thy anathema, that the nations may know and acknowledge that thou art Peter, that upon thy rock the Son of the living God has built His Church, and that the gates of hell shall not prevail against it." Had Henry IV. been supported by a united realm, he might have discarded this high-sounding sentence and prepared for a history of the relations of the Em pire and the Papacy far different from that which has been recorded. But a part of his subjects were rather eager than otherwise for a pretext to dethrone him. His cause too was lacking in moral prestige. A large proportion of the bishops who had acted as his sup porters were men of doubtful conduct, who deserved to be scourged for their misdeeds. The popular mind was largely open to a superstitious dread of the papal thunder. So Henry found himself deserted by one ally after another, and smitten as it were with leprosy in the sight of the people. In his forsaken condition he could do no better than to accept the terms imposed by the Diet of Tribur (October, 1076), which required him to live as a private person till a council, which was THE PAPAL THEOCRACY. 183 to be convened the next year at Augsburg under the presidency of the Pope, should have decided his case, and also to renounce the hope of reinstatement if he were not released from the ban within a year from its imposition. To be tried by the Pope before the dignitaries of Ger many, especially as one under anathema, was a thing most abhorrent to the thought of the humbled mon arch. He determined to forestall this ordeal, at once so crucifying to his feelings and so perilous to his crown, by presenting himself in person before the Pope. He started, therefore, for Italy. Through the rigors of one of the severest winters ever known in Europe he crossed the Alps and sought the presence of the Pope. He found the successor of Peter by no means ready to embrace the prodigal. Gregory was then stopping at Canossa, a fortress of the Countess Matilda. Three walls surrounded this fortress. The discrowned sover eign found admission within two of these, but there his progress was stayed. For three days in the cold of January he stood in penitential garb, beseeching au dience of the Pope. At length the intercessions of Matilda and others prevailed upon Gregory to receive the penitent. Conditions of absolution were proposed, and accepted. Henry engaged to answer the charges of his subjects in the presence of the Pope, and to ac cept the decision which might be rendered. Meanwhile he was to assume neither the ensigns nor the authority of a sovereign, and in case he should be restored he was to rule in harmony with the interests and the laws of the Church. The details of this triumph of papal assumption over 184 THE MEDIEVAL CHURCH. prostrate kingship were published abroad by Gregory himself. Some have thought that his motive in this was an unseemly desire to triumph over his adversary, and to weaken his cause by a display of his abasement. But more probably Gregory wished to show the Sax ons, who were highly displeased to have the absolution granted at all, how reluctantly he had proceeded to the measure, and with what expense to the suppliant. The oppressive weight of the ban was now lifted. It followed in the nature of things that a reaction should ensue. To the inward promptings of shame there was added the stimulus of voices from without. Many of the Lombards were no friends of the Pope, and were much aggrieved that Henry should have come into Italy to abase himself, instead of to humble Gregory. They were a thousand times more ready to assist in bringing the latter to pass, than to witness the former. Their ill-suppressed murmurings by no means increased Henry's satisfaction with the part which he had played at Canossa. He saw, moreover, as the edge of their resentment wore off, that he could count very largely upon their support. So he entered into friendly rela tions with the Lombards, and awaited the progress of events. The presence and growing power of Henry in Italy stood in the way of Gregory's departure for Germany. The projected council at Augsburg failed to meet ; but the nobles of Germany assembled at Forchheim and proceeded to elect Rudolph of Swabia to the German throne (March, 1077). This transpired without the special sanction of the Pope, or any confirmation from him further than the presence of his legates at the cere- THE PAPAL THEOCRACY. 185 mony of consecration. As Henry was no longer under the ban, the setting up of a rival had much of the ap pearance of an unwarrantable rebellion. Enough of sympathy was therefore shown for his cause to em bolden him to contend with Rudolph for the possession of Germany, and the unhappy country was desolated with the horrors of a civil war. With surprising inde cision Gregory delayed to decide between the contest ants till the year 1080. He then pronounced in favor of Rudolph, placed Henry under anathema, and de clared all Christians released from any oaths which they had sworn or should swear to him. But no such results followed from this as came from the previous sentence. The party of the excommunicated monarch stood firm, and, as Rudolph soon fell in battle, Henry's time to exact vengeance from the Pope, who had abased him to the earth arrived. He marched into Italy in 1081. After assailing Rome for three successive sea sons, he gained possession of the larger portion of the city, and confined Gregory to the castle of St. Angelo. Meanwhile he had set up an anti-pope, installing Gui- bert of Ravenna, who took the name of Clement III. The Normans under Robert Guiscard released Gregory from his imprisonment, at the same time avenging a popular assault, which their insolent bearing had insti gated, with dreadful carnage and destruction. With these fierce warriors Gregory retired to Salerno, where he died soon after, in 1085. Through all hi6 misfor tunes he had preserved the same unbending mien, and refused to listen to any terms of compromise.- The last words of the dying pontiff were in keeping with the lofty bearing which he had maintained in his- official 186 THE MEDIAEVAL CHURCH. station : " I have loved righteousness," he said, " and hated iniquity, and therefore I die in exile." Viewed in its general outline, the pontificate of Greg ory VII. makes a certain impression of majesty. The boldness and breadth of his scheme, the lofty assump tions which he put forth, and the courage and stead fastness which he manifested at crucial epochs, make together an image that is striking to the imagination. But, on the other hand, there were phases seriously de tracting from the grandeur of his rule. An element of calculation which lies far below the plane of moral sub limity is painfully apparent. When we behold him sparing William the Conqueror, and leaving him to em ploy the prerogative of investiture with unchallenged independence while he treated the same offence as a capital crime in Henry IV., — when we see him again delaying for years to decide between the claims of Henry and Rudolph, the blood of the German people being meanwhile poured out like water in the civil strife, — what have we but a spectacle of weakness and irresolution, in place of moral intrepidity and straight forwardness ? It may be said, indeed, that Gregory had to act as his limited resources allowed, that one powerful sovereign was enough to deal with at a time, and that in dealing even with this one it was necessary to have a prudent regard to favoring opportunities and means of success. All this may be true. But let it be granted, and what is the conclusion ? The conclu sion is that the papacy, even in the persons of its no blest and most powerful exponents, by meddling with the affairs of nations, by aspiring to a temporal sway, has endangered the moral grandeur of its rule, has been THE PAPAL THEOCRACY. 187 driven aside from the path of a straightforward and im partial application of principles, and has tended with a gravitation not easily resisted toward the vulgarity of conmon political finesse. The death of Gregory did not end the struggle. Henry continued to support the claims of an anti-pope, and for a time quite effectively. The successors of Gregor3r were not able to hold their ground against the nominee of the Emperor. But during the pontif icate of Urban II., the tide began to turn. The part of this Pope in instituting the first crusade gained him such a prestige as sustained his own authority and pre pared a favorable ground for his successor, Paschal II. At the same time a defection occurred which abridged the Emperor's power and overwhelmed him with a grief far more bitter than the cup of death. First, his son Conrad, instigated by the papal party, revolted and seized the government of Italy. Some years later, his son Henry endeavored to rob him of the government of Germany, took possession of his person, and treated him with most unfilial hardness. A popular reaction gained the freedom of the Emperor and secured him a fair prospect of holding his own against his adversaries. But before the ordeal of battle had rendered a decision the occasion for conflict was over. The sorrow-stricken monarch, who was pierced by the infidelity of his sons as David by the rebellion of Absalom, had found release in death (1106). He died under the shadow of the papal excommunication. Five years passed before his body was allowed to repose in a consecrated place. The rebellion of young Henry, if not directly insti gated by Paschal II., had been blessed by him. With 188 THE MEDIJEVAL CHURCH. great promptness, it might be said with great eagerness, he had released the prince from his oath of allegiance to his father. As it happened, or as Providence ruled, this trespass against the law of nature was speedily requited. The Pope was setting up the instrument of his own humiliation. For never was Pope more plagued or put to deeper disgrace by an Emperor than was Pas chal by Henry V. As soon as his policy was developed, it became perfectly evident that Henry had no inclina tion to resign the right of investiture. In 1110 he de scended into Italy with a powerful army, one purpose of his coming being the reception of the imperial crown. The Pope of course would not be willing to crown a disobedient son of the Church. But he had no means of resisting Henry. In this exigency he made terms which were a surprise to his contemporaries, and which have continued to be somewhat of an historical riddle. That a Pope should so nearly have anticipated a leading principle of Arnold of Brescia was truly re markable. Paschal agreed that the Church should resign the possessions and royalties which it had re ceived from the Empire, on condition that the Empire should resign the right of investiture. Henry, of course, could not object to these terms. The vast possessions in question being once surrendered, it would be a small thing to resign the ceremony of investiture. He there fore expressed his assent, though he probably discerned the impracticable nature of the compact, and well un derstood that the prelates of Germany would make a desperate resistance to its fulfilment. Before the coro nation, which Paschal had engaged to bestow, had taken place, the feelings of the German prelates became mani- THE PAPAL THEOCRACY. 189 fest. As they would not follow out the proposal which the Pope had made for them, Henry felt released from his part of the engagement. Still he insisted upon the coronation, and since Paschal would not bestow this unless the claim to investiture were given up, he took Pope and cardinals prisoners, and exacted as the price of freedom a treaty in which the Pope conceded to him the right of investiture. The coronation then took place, and the victorious Emperor returned to Germany. Paschal now found the reproaches of his friends as hard to bear as had been the persecutions of his ruthless antagonist. Some of them berated him without mercy for the indignity which he had brought upon the Church by his unmanly surrender. The Pope him self repented of his weakness in dust and ashes. He would gladly have anathematized the Emperor, but was restrained by sense of shame, if not of honor, from breaking the solemn pledge which he had given. He contented himself therefore with seeing the treaty con demned as invalid by a Roman synod, and the Emperor anathematized through the agency of his legates. Before the close of his reign Henry's supremacy in Germany became so far endangered that he was willing to make some concession for the sake of reconciliation with the papacy. The result of the negotiations that were opened was the Concordat of Worms, which was ratified in 1122. The Emperor on his side gave up all claim to investiture by ring and staff, guaranteed canon ical election and free consecration in all churches, and promised restoration of possessions and feudal sover eignties which had been taken from the Church during the time of discord. The Pope on his part conceded 190 THE MEDIAEVAL CHURCH. that the bishops and abbots belonging to the German realm should be elected in the presence of the Em peror, only without simony and violence, and should receive from him authority to enter upon the tem poralities of their positions through the touch of the sceptre.1 This may be regarded as not an unfair settlement of questions in dispute. The old form of investiture was objectionable, inasmuch as the ring and the staff were the proper ensigns of the spiritual functions of the bishop. Their delivery by the temporal prince might seem to imply a dependence of the bishop upon the State for his spiritual prerogatives. This inference was indeed denied. Still a ceremony whose natural signifi cance needed to be explained away were better dis pensed with. The Concordat provided a more suitable form of investiture. By guaranteeing free election, it secured the rights of the Church. By retaining in vestiture in any form it left to the sovereign a means of asserting lordship over vast estates, which were not designed, as they were given to the Church, to pass into the rank of independent property. The result fell short of that complete independence which Gregory VII. wished to secure for the Church. At the same time, inasmuch as the State conceded a portion of the prerogative which it had freely used for a long period, the Church appears as the gaining party in the settlement. It should be noticed that the compromise which was effected at Worms in 1122 had. been anticipated in 1 " Electus regalia per sceptrum a te [imperatore] recipiat, et quae ex his jure tibi debet, faciat." THE PAPAL THEOCRACY. 191 England by a similar settlement. Henry I. at his rec onciliation with Anselm, agreed to give up the cere mony of investiture, requiring only that bishops should do homage to him for their temporalities. II. — ALEXANDER III. AND THOMAS BECKET. The peace which was consummated through the Con cordat of Worms was not seriously threatened till after the middle of the century. The most prominent figure in Europe during this interval was neither Pope nor Emperor, but that marvellous combination of lofty de votion and practical force, that unequalled union of monk and man of affairs, Bernard of Clairvaux. The contemporary Popes did not possess the eminent talents which might qualify them for new conquests. More over, they were confronted by such difficulties at home as naturally restrained them from going abroad for oc casions of quarrel. Among these difficulties was a schism. This had its origin, not in interference from without, but in the partisanship of the electors. By hasty action a section of the cardinals in 1130 suc ceeded in installing Innocent II. Not to be foiled in this way, the opposing party declared the election in valid, and proceeded to choose Anacletus II. By alli ance with Roger of Sicily, Anacletus commanded the ascendency in Italy. Innocent was forced to take refuge in France ; but, supported by the eloquent champion ship of Bernard, he retrieved his fortunes, and in 1136 reinstated himself at Rome. Before the close of Innocent's administration another serious difficulty assailed the papacy. By the year 192 THE MEDIAEVAL CHURCH. 1139 the protests of Arnold of Brescia against the worldliness and wealth of the clergy, and his vigorous emphasis upon the need of renouncing secular affairs and returning to apostolic simplicity, had made no small stir in his native city. At the Lateran Council which was convened in that year, it was thought necessary to check the agitator. Innocent accordingly ordered Ar nold to leave the soil of Italy and not to return without the papal permit. Arnold retired to France and then to Switzerland, but after a few years made bold to ally himself with the republican movement which had been started at Rome. For a time he held the field. The republican scheme had a complete ascendency. The Popes were relegated to a purely spiritual jurisdiction, their temporal authority was denied, and the govern ment of Rome was intrusted to a Senate. Innocent was unable to quell the uprising of popular enthu siasm, and died in the midst of his unavailing efforts. One of his successors, Lucius II., fared still worse, be ing killed while attempting to storm the Capitol at the head of his troops. Eugenius III., who followed, was an exile from Rome for a large part of his pon tificate. First under Adrian IV., who became Pope in 1154, was an effective movement made for dislodging Ar nold and overthrowing his institutions. Soon after Adrian's inauguration, a fatal assault upon one of the cardinals gave him an occasion for a decisive fulmi- nation. Rome was placed under interdict, and as a condition of its removal the city was required to ex pel Arnold. Shortly afterwards the champion of the Roman republic fell into the hands of the German THE PAPAL THEOCRACY. 193 Emperor, Frederic Barbarossa. As Frederic neither sympathized with his enthusiasms nor appreciated the instrumentality that might have been found in him for antagonizing the ambitions of the papacy, he delivered him over to his enemies in Rome, who executed him in all haste, and cast his ashes into the Tiber. The Emperor and the Pope, between whom a kind of bond might appear to have been established by the sacrifice of Arnold, were both eminently fitted to ini tiate a quarrel over prerogatives. Frederic held lofty views of imperial rights. He claimed an unrivalled supremacy in things temporal. He spurned the notion that his authority was one which needed any papal sanction. His crown was from God ; to say that it came from the successor of St. Peter was to indulge a lying assertion, contradictory to the divine arrange ment and to the doctrine of St. Peter himself. These ideas were backed up by a strong will and a command ing force of character which powerfully impressed men. Frederic Barbarossa, therefore, was well qualified to inaugurate the first stage of the hundred years' war between the Hohenstaufen family and the papacy. Adrian IV., who left his home as Nicolas Break- speare to find preferment in a French monastery, to fill the position of cardinal and legate, and lastly to present the solitary instance of an Englishman upon the papal throne, was a man of aspiring temper and ready cour age, holding high notions of his office, and not inclined to tolerate any encroachment. We have a specimen of his idea of pontifical sovereignty in his grant of Ireland to Henry II. of England. Holding that the Roman see has a special claim upon all islands which have re- 13 194 THE MEDIAEVAL CHURCH. ceived the Christian oracles, he proceeded formally to sacrifice the independence of the Irish people. In the bull which fulfilled the request of Henry, and author ized him to conquer the island, is the following : " We therefore, with the grace and acceptance suited to your pious and laudable design, and favorably assenting to your petition, hold it good and acceptable that, for ex tending the borders of the Church, restraining the pro gress of vice, for the correction of manners, the plant ing of virtue, and the increase of the Christian religion, you enter that island, and execute therein whatever shall pertain to the honor of God and welfare of the land ; and that the people of the land receive you hon orably, and reverence you as their lord, — the rights of their churches still remaining sacred and inviolate, and saving to St. Peter the annual pension of one penny from every house." 1 No wonder that Irish patriots of the Roman Catholic persuasion find here an occasion of much perplexity ! " Adrian's bull," says Lanigan, " is of so unwarrantable and unjustifiable a nature, that some writers could not bring themselves to believe that he issued it, and have endeavored to prove it a forgery ; but their efforts were of no avail, and never did there exist a more real or authentic docu ment." 2 Such a Pope was not likely to remain on terms of amity with the ambitious Frederic. The Emperor took umbrage at language of Adrian and of his legates which was thought to imply that he held his crown by the grace of the Pope. He was angered, moreover, by the » Quoted by W. D. Killen, Eccl. Hist, of Ireland. * Eccl. Hist, of Ireland, vol. iv. chap. 28. THE PAPAL THEOCRACY. 195 alliance of the Pope with the King of Sicily, as being a menace to his own rule in Italy. Adrian on his part complained that the Emperor exacted the oath of vas salage from the bishops, hindered appeals, and restricted the action of the papal legates in Germany. Especially was he vexed by Frederic's manifest and even avowed determination to assert the imperial sovereignty over Rome. A rupture seemed inevitable. Indeed, Adrian was about to launch forth sentence of excommunication, when the hand of death passed over the conflict to his successor (1159). That successor was Alexander III. He was the choice of the party which favored the bold policy of Adrian IV. The cardinals, however, were not all friendly to such a policy. Some of them favored peace with the Emperor. The result was another schism. Alexander III. was confronted by a rival, who bore the name of Victor IV. The Emperor, with commendable moderation, made no choice between the contestants, but convened a council at Pavia to pass upon their claims. This council, whose authority Alexander from the first refused to acknowledge, gave its verdict in favor of Victor. For a time the imperial patronage gave Victor the ascendency in Italy. Alexander III. in 1162 was obliged to take refuge in France. But erelong he found means for a successful struggle. Espe cially was a powerful instrument prepared to his hand in the cities of Northern Italy, which the arbitrary rule of Frederic had alienated. As previously stated, the arms of the cities gained a signal victory upon the field of Legnano in 1176. The following year the defeated Emperor humbled himself at Venice before 196 THE MEDIAEVAL CHURCH. the victorious Pope and received from him the kiss of peace.1 But Frederic's prostration upon the pavement of Venice was no token of his settled disposition. He had still courage and energy for recovering lost ground, and had made progress toward reinstating the imperial rule in Italy, when he embarked upon the crusade from which he never returned. He was drowned while at tempting to cross a river in Asia Minor (1190). Contemporary with the conflict between Alexander III. and Frederic I. occurred one of the most stirring crises in the ecclesiastical history of England. It was during the Pope's exile in France that the famous quarrel between Thomas Becket and Henry II. broke out. The quarrel was an exhibition of the same an tagonism which had been displayed on the Continent upon a larger scale. Becket was an English Hildebrand, entertaining the loftiest notions respecting the preroga tives of his order, and concerned for nothing so much as to resist every encroachment upon his rights as pri mate of England. " Who doubts," he wrote in the midst of the strife, " that the priests of Christ are to be considered the fathers and masters of kings and princes, and of all the faithful? Is it not seen to be a miserable insanity, when the son attempts to subju- 1 The Pope, according to the representation of an old chronicle, tri umphed over the Emperor in good earnest : " Imperator Alexandrinum in sede Romana collocavit, ubi Imperator coronam deposuit, et proster- nens se super terram, Papa super guttur Imperatoris pedem sinistrum fixit, et elevato altero pede ad alteram partem prosiliit dicens : Super aspidum et basiliscum ambulabis, et conculcabis leonem et draconem. Cui Imperator : Non tibi, sed Petro. Et Papa : Non dignitati, sed Frederico. Tunc Papa coronam Imperii eidem restituit cum pede." (Gualvaneus Flamma, Historia Mediolanensis, cap. ccvi., apud Muratori, xi. 651 ) THE PAPAL THEOCRACY. 197 gate the father, the disciple the master, and to bring under the unholy bonds of his own power the one by whom he believes he can be bound and loosed, not only upon earth, but also in heaven ? " 1 Again he remarks : " It is certain that kings receive their power from the Church, whereas the Church receives its power not from them, but from Christ." 2 Henry II., on the other hand, entertained high notions of his rights as king, and drew his standard rather from the practice of his royal pre decessors than from the teachings with which Rome had been endeavoring to enlighten princes for some generations. However, it was not in virtue of any such general declaration of principles that the quarrel was begun. The subject of dispute was primarily much more concrete and specific, as will be seen from the nar rative of Becket's relations with Henry. The first noteworthy advancement of Becket, who was the son of a London citizen of respectable stand ing, was due to the favorable impression which his talents made upon Theobald, the Archbishop of Can terbury. Through the kindness of the primate, he was enabled to perfect his education upon the Continent by the study of law at Bologna and Auxerre. His ca pacity for business having been proved by the success ful execution of some matters of diplomacy, he was brought into prominence, and in 1154 was rewarded with the lucrative and influential position of Archdeacon of Canterbury. Not long thereafter, on the recommenda tion of Theobald, who wished to have near the King a competent guardian of the interests of the Church, he was raised to the position of Chancellor. But in this 1 Epist. Ixxiii. 2 Epist. clxxix. 198 THE MEDIEVAL CHURCH. office Becket, so far as is discoverable, was not at all conspicuous for carrying out the intent of Theobald. He appeared rather as the faithful coadjutor of the King than as the champion of the Church. As is evident from the references of John of Salisbury and others, he was so far a co-agent or instrument in the King's exac tions as to gain somewhat of a reputation as a spoiler of the Church and the clergy.1 On the testimony of all the contemporary biographers, it is perfectly plain that the tone of his life was pre-eminently secular. The appearance which he presented to the world was that of a magnificent courtier, who wellnigh outshone the King in the splendor of his retinue and the sump- tuousness of his banquets. Henry very naturally supposed that the Chancellor who had shown so little disposition to give an undue prominence to ecclesiastical interests would be a safe man to put over the Church. Accordingly, in 1162, Becket was made Archbishop of Canterbury. But the mistake of the King very soon became apparent. Becket was no sooner archbishop than he ceased at once to be the courtier, and became exclusively the ecclesiastic. While he retained much of his outward state, and was quite as prodigal of display as was ex pected of an archbishop, he subjected himself to monas tic severities, and exhibited a zeal for his order whose fanatical intensity could not have been excelled if it had been diligently nurtured for a score of years. Among the tokens of the new temper in Becket was the resignation of the chancellorship. This was to the King a source of surprise, if not of alienation. Another 1 J. C. Robertson, Biography of Becket, chap. v. THE PAPAL THEOCRACY. 199 thing which he was not able to regard with complacency was the grasping way in which the Archbishop went to work to recover whatever was deemed to belong to his see. He seemed to entertain the principle that church property could not be alienated. " Everything that had ever been given to the Church was to be claimed, while nothing that had been parted with was to be abandoned ; and documents were to be reck oned valid or worthless, according as they made for or against the ecclesiastical claims."1 It was also dis pleasing to the King that Becket should excommunicate one of his tenants without asking leave. Furthermore, his resentment was stirred when the prelate thwarted his plan of appropriating certain sheriff's fees, though in this particular instance it is quite evident that he was only standing in the way of an aggression. The great subject of dispute, however, was the im munities of the clergy. Becket held that the clergy were amenable only to the ecclesiastical tribunal ; that a heinous crime was to be punished with degradation from the clerical standing ; that in accordance with law and reason a single crime could not receive a double punishment ; and that consequently only a crime com mitted after degradation could come under the cogni zance of the civil power, and be punished by the same.2 This theory was not without support in English law. A basis for it at least was supplied in the legislation of William the Conqueror, though Becket seems not to have appealed to this fact. " In Saxon times," says Robertson, " both clergy and laity had been subject to mixed tribunals, — the archdeacon sitting with the secu- 1 Robertson, Biography, chap. v. 2 Edward Grim, S. Thomse Vita. 200 THE MEDIJEVAL CHURCH. lar judge in the court of the hundred, and the bishop with the earl in the county court. This arrangement had, indeed, been abolished by William the Conqueror, who ordered that the jurisdictions should be separated. But it would seem that, notwithstanding the new law, the separation of the courts was not generally carried out before the latter part of Henry the First's reign. And in whatever degree the law of William may have contributed towards that exemption from secular judg ment which the clergy had at length all but completely established for themselves during the troubled reign of Stephen, Becket is never found to have appealed to it. If, indeed, he had relied on the Conqueror's law, he might have been told that experience had abundantly proved the necessity of its repeal. But he would have scorned such a foundation for his pretensions ; he claimed the immunities as an inherent right of the clergy."1 Becket's position was no doubt that which was nat urally dictated by the hierarchical standpoint of the time. It was part and parcel of the high-churchism of the age. The position none the less was a mischievous one. For the clerical immunities, while they may have sheltered from unjust violence in many instances, by affording a comparative freedom from punishment, of fered a scandalous encouragement to the indulgence of all the evil passions of human nature. The King had just cause for complaint and indignation. He saw that exemption from the proper penalties of the law was causing the law to be defied, to the injury and scandal of his government. He determined therefore to lift the shield from clerical offenders, and to bring them within 1 Biography, chap. v. THE PAPAL THEOCRACY. 201 the reach of the civil arm. With this intent he sum moned the bishops and abbots to meet him at West minster in October, 1163. He told them that he was prevented by the immunities of the clergy from fulfil ling the oath which he had taken at his coronation, and asked their concurrence in the remedial measures which he proposed. " I am bent," he said, " on having peace and tranquillity through all my dominions, and I am much annoyed at the disturbances which the crimes of the clergy have occasioned ; they do not hesitate to commit robbery of all kinds, and very often murder also. I therefore demand your consent, my lord of Canterbury, and the consent of all the other bishops also, that when clerks are detected in crimes, and con victed either by the judgment of the court or by their own eonfes&ion, they shall be stripped of their orders, and given over to the officers of my court, to receive cor poral punishment, without protection from the Church. I also demand that whilst the ceremony of stripping them of their orders is performed, some of my officials shall be present to seize the culprit immediately, lest he should find an opportunity of escaping." J The bishops at first demurred at this demand. The King then asked them individually if they would obey the customs of the realm. Following the lead of Becket, they replied that they would, "saving their order." This reservation greatly enraged the King, and he in sisted upon an unqualified assent. At length, the bishops generally gave way, and even Becket was pre vailed upon, in a private interview, to give a verbal promise of submission. According to one account, he 1 Quoted by J. A. Giles, Life and Letters of Becket. 202 THE MEDIAEVAL CHURCH. was constrained to this step by the representations of the envoy of Alexander III., who wished to keep on good terms with the English King, as he had need of his aid in the struggle with Frederic and the anti-pope. Henry used Becket's concession in a way indicating either that he doubted his good faith, or was bent upon punishing him for his vexatious opposition. In January, 1164, he called a council at Clarendon in order that the promise of the Archbishop to observe the customs might be ratified in a public and formal manner. Becket signified that he was not sufficiently aware of what the customs were. The King therefore caused that they should be reduced to writing. So originated the Consti tutions of Clarendon. Those who were intrusted with their compilation omitted no important item which usage had in any wise sanctioned as a part of the royal prerogative. That they included none which were wholly destitute of historical warrant seems to be im plied by the fact that they were not attacked from this side by Becket or his party.1 The more important pro visions were as follows: (1) Ecclesiastics accused of any crime, having been cited by the King's justiciary, shall come before his court, where shall be determined what pertains to the King's court and what to the ec clesiastical court. To the latter court an officer shall be sent to watch the trial. If the ecclesiastic shall be 1 A competent investigator has thus characterized the Constitutions : " They are no mere engine of tyranny or secular spite against a church man ; they are really a part of a great scheme of administrative reform, by which the debatable ground between the spiritual and temporal powers can be brought within the reach of common justice, and the lawlessness arising from professional jealousies abolished." (Slubbs, Constitutional History of England, i. 466.) THE PAPAL THEOCRACY. 203 convicted, or shall confess, he is to receive no further protection from the Church. (2) No archbishop or other person shall leave the kingdom without the King's license, and those receiving this shall give security that neither in going nor in returning, nor during their stay, will they work any harm to the King or the realm. (3) Archbishops, bishops, and all persons of the realm who are tenants in chief of the King, have their pos sessions of the King as barons, and hence they shall be amenable to the King's justiciaries and ministers, and shall fulfil all the customary feudal obligations, and shall sit with the barons in the King's trials, except in cases affecting life and limb. (4) Appeals shall pass from the archdeacon to the bishop, from the bishop to the archbishop, and, if the archbishop shall fail to do justice, resort shall be had to the King. Beyond the King the case cannot be carried without his consent, — a provision aimed against appeals to the Pope. (5) No tenant in chief of the King, or officer of his household, shall be excommunicated, or have his lands placed under interdict, until the King has been consulted, or, in his absence, his justiciary, and what is pertinent in the case to the civil and ecclesiastical tribunal respectively has been referred to each. (6) The revenues of vacant sees and abbeys shall be at the King's disposal. Those who are qualified to act as electors shall give their votes in the King's chapel, with the assent of the King him self, and of the council which he has convened for the purpose. And there before his consecration the person elected shall render homage and pledge of fidelity to the King as his liege lord, for life, limb, and worldly honor, saving his order. 204 THE MEDIJEVAL CHURCH. These Constitutions were plainly at war with the principles which had been championed at Rome from the time of Gregory VII., and with the ecclesiasticism to which Becket was devoted heart and soul. But so great was the clamor raised by the King's partisans, that the primate concluded that for the time being he must appear to yield. So in the presence of the assem bly he promised to observe the customs. He was then asked to set his seal to the Constitutions. Whether he overcame his repugnance to this demand, so far as to assent, is somewhat uncertain. Fitzstephen, in his Life of Becket, gives us to understand that he yielded on this point also. He says : " Timore mortis, et ut regem mitigaret, acquievit ad tempus, assensu et in verbo veritatis stipulatione, et sigillorum suorum im- pressione." But other accounts leave the point more in the mist. Once away from Clarendon, Becket immediately took pains to express his abhorrence of his own act in sur rendering to the King's demand. He suspended him self from serving at the altar, and sent across the Chan nel to obtain absolution from the Pope. Soon, in direct violation of the Constitutions, he attempted to make his escape to the Pope. Such an attempt revealed of course to the King that Becket's pledges meant noth ing. He determined therefore to crush the rebellious prelate. At a Parliament convened at Northampton in 1164, as the most available device for his overthrow, he was called to account for revenues which had passed into his hands when he was chancellor, and was charged with responsibility for an enormous sum of money. Becket observed the plain intent to grant him no THE PAPAL THEOCRACY. 205 quarter, and in the absence of other resource fled to France, to make his appeal to the Pope. Henry caused the Archbishop's property to be confiscated, and with unseemly tyranny banished his kindred, his servants, and all who had harbored him in his flight. The narrative of Becket's six years' exile need not be given in detail. It was a time of diplomacy. Alex ander III., beset at once by Becket and by the envoys of Henry, accommodated his course to his judgment of his prospects in his own struggle against formidable antagonists. While he undoubted^ abhorred the Con stitutions of Clarendon he could not afford to make an enemy of the English King, and drive him into alliance with the German Emperor. So he temporized, some times encouraging one party and sometimes another. The best satisfaction which Becket was able to obtain was the privilege in 1166, in virtue of a legatine power over the greater part of England, to anathematize the Constitutions of Clarendon, to absolve the bishops from their pledge to keep them, to excommunicate or sus pend some offending ecclesiastics, and to threaten the King with excommunication if he should not repent and change his course. Other excommunications followed in the ensuing years, the Bishop of London being among the victims. But Becket had to pay for these onslaughts by seeing the curb put upon himself and some of his censures annulled by the Pope. His vexa tion at times knew no bounds, and he exclaimed against the conduct of the Pope in terms which might help out the bitterest adversary of the papacy with a vocabulary of invective. " I know not how it is," he wrote, " that in the court of Rome the Lord's side is always sacri- 206 THE MEDIEVAL CHURCH. ficed, — that Barabbas escapes and Christ is put to death." 1 At length, after endless negotiations, a for mal reconciliation was accomplished between the King and the Archbishop at the conference of Freteval in 1170. Becket returned in the spirit in which Saul of Tar sus journeyed to Damascus. Instead of a message of peace, he sent before himself the anathema. His feel ings had been exasperated by the recent coronation of the King's son, — ¦ a ceremony which he regarded as peculiarly the prerogative of the see of Canterbury. The Archbishop of York, who officiated at the corona tion, was suspended, and sentence of excommunication was renewed against the Bishops of London and Salis bury. A report of Becket's unrelenting spirit and harsh measures, a report which very likely grew in the pro cess of transmission, drove Henry into a frenzy of rage. In the midst of his invectives he uttered the passionate words, " Spiritless and miserable men have I nurtured and raised up in my kingdom, who refuse to keep faith with their lord, and suffer him to be so ignominiously mocked by a low-born priest."2 Four of the King's knights took this exclamation as a commission to exe cute vengeance upon the Archbishop. As note was taken of their absence, messengers were sent to fore stall the deed which, it was feared, they might be con templating. But the messengers were outstripped, and Becket was murdered in the cathedral of Canterbury, the 29th of December, 1170. A power emanated from the blood which stained the 1 Quoted by Robertson. 2 So given by Grim. THE PAPAL THEOCRACY. 207 pavement of the cathedral, before which all opposition went down. Criticism of the victim was cast into the background by the horror of his tragic fate. The King himself was overwhelmed with grief and terror. Becket was now sanctified in popular thought as a martyr. Questionings as to whether he had not forfeited that holy name by his obstinacy and passion, and lack of humility, had little chance of holding their ground against reports of supernatural attestations of his sanc tity. The rumor of repeated miracles carried every thing before it. The tomb of Becket became the unrivalled shrine. Before three years had passed, Rome ventured to enroll him among the saints ; and scarcely another year had passed before his royal antagonist had approached his tomb with bare and bleeding feet, and spent a night and a day there with abject tokens of penitence. The King had lost his cause. A single deed of bloody violence cancelled all opportunity to limit the overgrown prerogatives of the ecclesiastical power. It was with extreme difficulty that Henry saved himself from the papal anathema. As it was, he escaped only at the cost of abandoning the Constitutions of Clar endon, and promising certain costly services to the Church. Very different measures of sympathy have been awarded to the principal actors in this great quarrel. Each has been the subject of lavish commendation and unstinted reproach. But it is evident that neither praise nor blame should be undivided. The King was undoubtedly perfectly right in his desire to reform the abuse of clerical immunities. The reform was some- 208 THE MEDIJEVAL CHURCH. thing which simple justice and good government de manded. A resolute attempt to break down the shield of crime, conducted in the right spirit, would have been something worthy of his kingship. But he failed of the right spirit. He gave way to resentment. He answered priestly assumption with an overstraining of royal prerogative, and was impelled into acts of tyran nical violence in his attempts to humble and to distress his opponent. As for Becket, he may be credited with a good measure of conscientious conviction. He prob ably believed that he was called upon to defend the sacred rights of the Church. But he conducted the de fence as a partisan, — yea, as a bigot. He was without largeness of heart or clearness of vision. The rights of his order and the prerogatives of his see claimed his whole ardor. In his view, usurpation against these was the one crime. He had no prophet's voice to denounce other sins and iniquities in high places. Only encroach ments against the ecclesiastical domain, and especially against the archiepiscopal throne of Canterbury, called forth his censures. His whole struggle, in short, was a struggle for mere power. Granting that it was not a display of selfishness, it was at least a display of narrowness. To seek mere power for the Church in a spirit which ignores the ethical and spiritual basis of the Church, even though one sacrifice himself in the seeking, is justly to incur the charge of narrowness and fanaticism. We will not impeach the honest intention of Becket. We will not refuse a certain admiration for the steadfastness with which he fought out his cause. But we blush for the moral judgment of one who, with anything like an adequate knowledge of his history, THE PAPAL THEOCRACY. 209 can pronounce him a saint. The canonization of Becket may be placed along with other instances of libel upon the New Testament ideal. III. — INNOCENT TH. Reference has been made to the fact that the tempo rary humiliation of Frederic Barbarossa had been fol lowed by a vigorous and successful assertion of imperial claims. Great advantage accrued to the Empire in particular from the marriage of Frederic's son Henry to Constance, the heiress of the Norman dominion in Sicily and Southern Italy. The transfer of sovereignty over this territory to the Hohenstaufen family took away a valuable support from the papacy, and exposed it on all sides to the power of an ambitious rival. The inconvenience of the situation became at once apparent. For Henry VI., who received the imperial office on the death of Frederic, was not a man from whom an oppo nent could expect any leniency or concession. As ag gressive in spirit as his father, he was far less restrained by the dictates of honor. Treating the papal censures as unworthy of notice, crushing opposition with equal vigor, cruelty, and unscrupulousness, he advanced to a controlling power in Italy. The gains, however, which he made were of very uncertain tenure. His tyranny strengthened and embittered the opposition to the Em pire which was always cherished by a part of the Italian people, while his early death, in 1197, left no one from his house to take up the sceptre. His son Frederic was then but an infant. The Empire had no competent champion against the papacy. On the contrary, the 14 210 THE MEDIAEVAL CHURCH. struggle of rival claimants for the imperial honor in vited the Roman pontiff to interfere, to the magnifying of his own superiority. At this juncture, too, a man came to the papal throne who was qualified to make the most of the opportunity, — a man whose capacity for rule has never been excelled by any one who has called himself a successor of Peter. Historians very commonly agree in the verdict that Innocent III. marks the culmination of the papal theoc racy. Other pontiffs may have put forth equal preten sions , but in the actual exercise of governing power, in the successful maintenance of sovereignty, Innocent stands at the point of highest elevation in the whole line. His achievements were on a truly magnificent scale. As respects their moral quality, they will not indeed appear unstained. The vice of autocratic power is too plainly revealed to escape detection. Still the administration of Innocent III. bears in general the ap pearance of moral respectability. Like Gregory VII., he knew how to despise a bribe, and sought to drive out the plague of venality from his neighborhood. If his censorship over the nations was not carried out with full impartiality, it was often used to scourge a mani fest injustice. No open turpitude cancelled the respect of his contemporaries. He had the prestige of superior learning. His study at the universities of Paris and Bo logna had given him a good understanding of theology and an almost unequalled mastery of law. Unlike a majority of the Popes, he came to his pontificate in the undiminished vigor of his years, being installed at the early age of thirty-seven. The long term of eighteen years (1198-1216) gave him full scope for the execution THE PAPAL THEOCRACY. 211 of arduous enterprises. To one, therefore, who is not revolted by his boundless assumption and dictatorial exercise of authority, Innocent III. will not appear otherwise than as an imposing figure in history. A Roman Catholic at all tinged with Ultramontanism will take no exception to the following words of Alzog: " If Innocent had found occasion to show his steadfast ness against outward misfortune, as did Gregory VII. and Alexander III., whom he far surpassed in theologi cal and juristic learning, as well as in executive ability, so would one be obliged to pronounce him the greatest successor of Peter ; in any case, he exalted the chair of Peter to the highest honor." 1 The conception of theocratic rule had been so fully outlined by Gregory VII. that there was little occasion to add thereto. Accordingly, we find Innocent's defi nitions of papal prerogatives substantially the same as those of his powerful predecessor of the eleventh cen tury. He regarded the Pope as the central luminary, the sun of the ecclesiastical system. His jurisdiction in things spiritual — so he wrote to the French King — has no limits ; by the divine ordinance, it is so full that it admits of no addition.2 Other dignitaries of the Church stand in servant relations. Among the apostolic seats the Roman is as the throne which the Revelator saw, while the relative position of the four patriarch ates, Alexandria, Antioch, Jerusalem, and Constanti nople, is symbolized by the four living creatures which rendered their homage before the throne.3 The Pope indeed bears the name of a servant, that he may not i Kirchengeschichte, § 221. 2 Lib. vi. epist. 163. 8 Lib. xv. epist. 156. 212 THE MEDIMVAL CHURCH. forget the demands of humility. But still, as the vice gerent of Christ, he occupies a kind of superhuman station. "He stands in the midst between God and man ; below God, above man ; less than God, more than man. He judges all, is judged by none." 1 In the spiritual organism he is the head, and just as the head, which is the principal seat of the senses, bears rule among the members of the body, so the successors of Peter have a commanding primacy, over all the prelates of the Church.2 As for temporal rulers, they belong to a quite different sphere. Their jurisdiction extends simply over bodies, not over souls. They have each but a single realm, whereas the successor of Peter rules with unbounded sway, as the vicar of Him to whom the whole earth belongs. Their glory is a borrowed glory. " As the moon derives its light from the sun, and is inferior to it at once in quantity and quality, in position as well as in effect, so the regal power derives the splendor of its dignity from pontifical authority." 3 In a word, kings are the servants of the Pope. He is their instructor as to their duties, the censor of their conduct, the arbiter of their disputes, the disposer, in case of stubborn disobedience, of their crowns. The practice of Innocent corresponded to his theory. 1 " Videtis quis iste servus, qui super familiam constituitur, profecto vicarius Jesu Christi, successor Petri, Christus Domini, Deus Pliaraonis : inter Deum et hominem medius constitutus, citra Deum, sed ultra homi- nem : minor Deo, sed major homine : qui de omnibus judicat, et a ne- mine judicatur; apostoli voce pronuntians 'qui me judicat, Dominus, est.' " (Serm. ii. in Consecrat. Pontif. Max., Opera Innocent., iv. 658.) 2 Lib. i. epist. 117, 320 ; ii. 209. 3 See messages to Philip of Swahia, Otho, and the nobles of Tus cany. THE PAPAL THEOCRACY. 213 The words which he addressed to John of England, ecce tensus est arcus,1 are a good symbol of his attitude toward kings and emperors. He might appropriately be pictured as standing with bended bow upon the ram parts of Rome, glancing around the horizon of Chris tendom in search of the recreant prince who should next be made to feel the envenomed arrow of his spir itual censures. As the narrative of his pontificate will reveal, he often aimed his arrows to good effect. Still, it would be a mistake to suppose that Innocent III. was uniformly victorious. No aggressive pontiff ever sat in the chair of Peter, who was not met with more or less of successful defiance. Even under the power ful rule of Innocent III. there were enough instances in which the papal will was discarded, and the papal de crees brought to naught, to show the uncertain tenure of the papal autocracy. At more than one point we gain the suggestion that a moderate change of popular sentiment, a little decrease of superstitious awe and a little increase of manly independence, was all that was needed to turn the balance against the Pope, and enable princes to contemn his fulminations. Fidelity to his tory requires a record not only of the great victories of Innocent III., but also of their offsets. Like other Popes, Innocent found the people in his immediate neighborhood the most difficult to rule. While he gained so important a tribute to his authority as the oath of allegiance from the Prefect of Rome,2 1 Lib. xi. epist. 211. Another figure which he brought out for the benefit of John was that of the rod alongside the manna in the ark. (Rymer, Fcedera, i. 58.) 2 Gesta, § 8 ; Epistolae, i. 23. 214 THE MEDIJEVAL CHURCH. he was not able to maintain a steady control over the factious populace. In one instance opposition reached such a pitch that he was in a manner forced to take refuge elsewhere. But in Italy at large he obtained a considerable advantage. By availing himself of the reaction against the imperial rule, and allying himself with the republican leagues of the cities, he was able to hold in check the ambitious leaders of the German forces whom the death of the Emperor had left to strive for their own promotion. In Southern Italy and Sicily he gained in terms, if not in full reality, a very decided recognition of papal right and pre-eminence. This came through the widow of Henry VI. As the price of securing protection and acknowledgment for her infant son Frederic, in the succession to the king dom of Naples and Sicily, Constance stipulated that this realm should be held as a fief of the papacy, its sovereign swearing allegiance to the Pope and paying tribute to him. In Germany the contest for the vacant throne gave Innocent a fine opportunity, at the opening of his pon tificate, to figure as supreme arbiter over princes and nations. The choice of a majority of the electors fell upon Philip, of the house of Hohenstaufen, and uncle of the infant Frederic. But the opponents of this house refused to acknowledge Philip, and, proceeding to elect Otho, son of Henry the Lion and nephew of the English King Richard Cceur de Lion, gave over Germany to the horrors of civil war. The superior claim of Philip, so far as legitimacy of election was concerned, was sufficiently clear. But in the eyes of Innocent this was a circumstance of small account. THE PAPAL THEOCRACY. 215 The fact that Philip belonged to the hated Hohenstau fen family, and was less likely to feel under obligation than was his rival, outweighed all other considerations. Accordingly, in 1201 he pronounced in favor of Otho. In the document which set forth the grounds of this decision, no attempt was made to conceal its arbitrary nature. On the contrary, the Pope confessed that be fore the standard of German law and custom Philip had the better right. But he did not consider himself bound by national customs. Philip, he said, belonged to a race of persecutors, and had himself given evi dence of a disposition to injure the papal interests. Having cited in this connection a long list of offences committed by the Hohenstaufen Emperors, and quoted Old Testament precedents for visiting the iniquities of the fathers upon the children, Innocent proceeded as follows : " As for Otho, it seems not lawful to espouse his cause, since he was elected by a minority ; not be coming, lest we appear to extend the apostolic favor to him not so much out of good will to him as from hatred to another ; not expedient, because he is the weaker party of the two. But since, among those who are wont to have most weight in the election of an Em peror, as many are known to have voted for Otho as for Philip, or even more ; since Otho is better fitted to rule the Empire than Philip ; since also the Lord punishes the sins of the fathers in the children to the third and fourth generation of them that hate Him, that is in those who imitate the sins of their fathers ; since Philip imitates the sins of his ancestors in persecuting the Church ; since the Lord is recorded to have chosen the weak things to confound the mighty, as He raised 216 THE MEDIAEVAL CHURCH. David to the throne, it appears lawful, befitting, and expedient to bestow upon Otho the favor of the apos tolic see." 1 In the sequel, Innocent paid rather dearly for the pleasure which he may have experienced in issuing this dictatorial sentence. By supporting the weaker, as well as the less rightful claimant, he gave occasion to a prolonged conflict in Germany. Philip was found to be abundantly able to sustain himself in the face of papal censures. After ten years of civil war his cause was so far in the ascendant that the Pope began to show a disposition to yield to the inevitable, and to acknowl edge the claim of Philip before it should be too late to make favorable terms. Negotiations had been opened and the ban had been removed when the hand of an assassin released Innocent from the necessity of ren dering further concessions to an adversary. Philip fell a victim to private vengeance in 1208. This gave the field to Otho, and in 1209 he received the imperial crown at Rome. Now came the reward of his papal patron ; for no sooner had Otho gained his crown than he discarded the hand which had placed it upon his head. His fair promises were thrown to the winds, and with all the grasping energy of a Henry VI. he pro.- ceeded to assert the imperial rule over Italy. It was a bitter cup for the lofty vicegerent ; and Innocent showed well how deeply he felt its bitterness. In most instances of dealing with refractory monarchs he put on a show of restraint, and called them beloved sons even in the act of passing sentence against them. But no such honeyed terms were bestowed upon the Otho 1 Migne, Patrologia, Innocentii Opera, torn. iv. pp. 1025-1031. THE PAPAL THEOCRACY. 217 who had responded to support and promotion with in jury and ingratitude. Impelled by a wrath too great to be held in check, the Pope spoke of him in his offi cial addresses as an " impious persecutor," an " excom municated and accursed tyrant." a Otho cared little for the opprobrious epithets or for the anathemas of the Pope. But more formidable means were to be encountered. A scion of the illustrious Hohenstaufen family was still at hand, whom the enthusiasm of the people could easily raise into a victorious rival. Bent on the overthrow of Otho, the Pope did not hesitate to support the cause of the young Frederic, who appeared in Germany in 1212, and three years later had gained settled possession of the German crown. Thus circum stances compelled Innocent to undo his own work. He ended by confirming the sovereignty to the house from which he had attempted to take it by his arbitrary decree. One of the most notable victories of Innocent was gained in France. For here he triumphed over a sov ereign of uncommon boldness and vigor, Philip Au gustus, the strongest of the Capetians up to that time. A domestic offence supplied the first occasion for inter ference and censure. In 1193 Philip, who was then a widower, stipulated for the hand of the Danish Princess Ingeburga. But the princess had scarcely been received and the nuptial bond acknowledged, before Philip con ceived for her an unconquerable repugnance. As a narrator of the times reports, he was observed, during the coronation service for the new queen, to grow pale, and to tremble with such violent emotion as made it i Lib. xiv. epist. 78; xv. 20; xv. 31; xv. 138. 218 THE MEDIEVAL CHURCH. difficult for him to await the end of the ceremonial.1 Forthwith, whispers about a divorce began to be heard. On the plea of a distant relationship, the subservient prelates of France acceded to the wish of the King, and declared the marriage with Ingeburga annulled. As the discarded princess refused to return to her own country, she was sent into a convent. Philip then pro ceeded to consummate a marriage with Agnes of Meran, who bore him children and for whom he came to enter tain a passionate attachment. Meanwhile, in pursuance of the appeal of the injured party, the case had passed under the judgment of the Pope. The measures of Celestine, Innocent's predecessor, failed to bring any redress. So the matter stood, when the resolute pon tiff turned his attention toward France. After intro ducing the subject in the way of expostulation and warning, he gave peremptory instructions to his legates, authorizing and requiring them, in case the King did not yield before a certain date, to impose an interdict upon the whole French realm. Appeal from the action of the legates was excluded, and so long as the inter dict was in force no other sacred rite than the baptism of infants and the absolution of the dying was to be allowed. The threatened sentence was imposed. A silence like that of death settled upon the churches. The venerated relics were removed from sight. The crucifix was veiled. Rites of burial which affection and piety so earnestly coveted were refused. An entire na tion was punished in order to humble its chief. For a time Philip put on as stubborn a front as in jured royalty could well assume. Doing his utmost to 1 Gesta Innocentii III., § 48. THE PAPAL THEOCRACY. 219 nullify the interdict, he drove out priest and prelate who attempted to observe it, and vented his displeasure also upon laymen who countenanced such attempts. But the tide of popular feeling was too strong to be held in check by physical violence. Disquiet over the combined hardships of the interdict and the royal fury reached a dangerous pitch. Philip saw that he was running too great a hazard. Accordingly, he sent his messengers to the Pope to seek accommodation. The answer was a stern injunction to dismiss Agnes, and to receive back without delay the outraged Ingeburga. Philip then called a parliament of nobles and bishops at Paris. Their verdict was an echo of the papal de cision. Even the Archbishop of Rheims, who had pro nounced the divorce, had not a word to offer in defence of his former act. Being asked by the King if the Pope had written truly when he styled the sentence of divorce no true sentence, but a mere mockery, he replied in the affirmative. " Then," said the King, " you are a fool and a simpleton to have pronounced the sentence." 1 Thus bereft of support on all sides, Philip bowed to the bitter requirement that was laid upon him, and, having dismissed Agnes, acknowledged Inge burga as his wife and queen (1201). But the restora tion was only a passing ceremony. Philip could never overcome his aversion, and the hapless princess had occasion to complain that she was rather imprisoned than restored. As for Agnes, she soon died of a broken heart. Before passing from France, we should notice a partial offset to this great victory of Innocent. We give it in 1 Gesta Innocentii, § 53. 220 THE MEDIAEVAL CHURCH. the words of Henri Martin : " During the campaign of 1203, the Pope Innocent III., perhaps at the solicita tion of John, sent two legates to summon the two kings to suspend hostilities, to submit their differences to the Church, and to unite for the deliverance of the Holy Land. The kingdom of France was menaced with interdict, and the King with excommunication, in case of disobedience. But the triumph of the papacy in the matter of the divorce had induced Innocent to presume too much upon his power. The war against King John was popular ; the hatred against the assassin of Arthur was interwoven with the old hatred of the French and the Bretons against the Normans, and eleven great barons, impelled bjr their feelings counter to their true interests, declared by letters patent that they would sustain the King against the Pope or any other who should undertake the defence of John of England." l It is customary to disparage the victory which Inno cent gained over John of England, on the ground that John was a weak and pusillanimous prince. No doubt, the English monarch was a poor specimen of royalty. The history of his reign is a record of tyranny and moral turpitude of all kinds. But so far as his relations with the papacy are concerned, the suggestion of weak ness and cowardice comes only from the completeness of his final collapse before his antagonist. He met the papal censures with long and stubborn defiance, and yielded only when it seemed to be certain ruin not to yield. Had Innocent been anxious in the early years of his pontificate to find an occasion of quarrel with John, he 1 Histoire de France, torn. iii. liv. xxii. THE PAPAL THEOCRACY. 221 had not far to search. He who appeared as the avenger of domestic infidelity in France might have seen equal cause to act the same part in England ; for John sinned against the nuptial tie even more scandalously than Philip. Having divorced his lawful wife, he con tracted for the daughter of the King of Portugal ; but meanwhile he became enamored of the betrothed of one of his vassals, and in defiance of decency as well as the obligations of the feudal relation took her to be his wife. Here surely was a ground for the judge over kings and princes to interfere. No censure, however, came from Rome. Perhaps the fact that England at this time was one of the main supports of Otho in his struggle for the Empire ^nterposed a sort of mist be- tween the Pope and the sins of the English monarcn. The real occasion for quarrel was quite a different mat ter, namely, the manner in which a contested election was adjudicated by the Pope. In 1205 the see of Canterbury became vacant. The monks of Christ Church in the metropolitan seat, in order to make sure that their privilege to choose a suc cessor should not be infringed upon, hastily consum mated an election. This action was very obnoxious to the suffragan bishops, who claimed that a share in the election belonged of right to them. Under the King's license, a new choice was made and a rival archbishop set forward. Both parties appealed to Rome. The Pope, while agreeing with the monks as to their gen eral claim, declared that the manner of their choice made it no less invalid than that of their opponents. He therefore set aside both candidates, and ordered the electors to choose his own nominee, Stephen Lang- 222 THE MEDIAEVAL CHURCH. ton. This was a very excellent choice on the part of the Pope, — better than he was himself aware of at the time. But the merits of Langton were no recommen dation to John. The fact that his own nominee had been set aside drove him into a frenzy of rage. Expos tulations had no effect to bring him to a better mind. Innocent accordingly proceeded to the use of more potent means. In 1208 an interdict, like that which had cast its horrifying shadow upon France, was im posed upon England. So far from subduing the King, this only drove him to greater atrocities. The clergy who presumed to obey the Pope were deprived of their revenues and denied the protection of the law. It is reported that a robber, who had slain a priest, was ordered at the royal tribunal to be dismissed. " He has rid me," said the King, " of one enemy." J In nocent, after allowing the interdict a proper time to manifest its virtue, reinforced it by sentence of excom munication. As this too proved ineffectual, he brought out finally his most decisive weapon. The obdurate monarch was declared deposed, his subjects were re leased from their allegiance, and Philip of France was commanded to lead the crusade by which he was to be driven from his throne (1213). Philip began to gather his forces. John on his side assembled an immense force to withstand the attack ; but his heart misgave him ; he could not trust his own adherents. He deter mined therefore to forestall the ambitious project of Philip, and to make such a submission to the Pope as would turn him from an enemy into an ally. Regardless of his own honor and the honor of the realm, he surren- 1 Milman, Lat. Christ., book ix. chap. 5. THE PAPAL THEOCRACY. 223 dered crown and kingdom to the Pope, stipulating that henceforth he should hold them, and his successors for all time should hold them, in the relation of vassalage to the sovereign pontiff. The surrender was made in such terms as these : " We wish it known to all men, that through this charter bearing our seal, acting freely and without the constraint of violence or fear, with the advice of our barons, we offer and freely concede to God and his holy apostles Peter and Paul, and to the holy Roman Church, our mother, and to our lord Pope Innocent and his Catholic successors, the whole king dom of England and the whole kingdom of Ireland, with all their rights and belongings, for the remission of our sins and of our entire people, as well the living as the dead. And now, as a feudatory receiving and holding them from God and the Roman Church, we swear fealty to the aforesaid Pope Innocent and his Catholic successors, according to the subscribed form, obligating our successors and heirs by natural descent perpetually to show fealty and to render homage to the existing pontiff and to the Roman Church. In evidence of this our perpetual offering and grant, we ordain that from the special revenues of the aforesaid kingdoms, as a discharge of the service which is due for them, the customary Peter's pence being at the same time guar anteed, the Roman Church shall receive annually one thousand marks. The royal prerogatives and liberties are to be preserved to ourselves and our heirs. Wishing these stipulations to be perpetually established, we bind ourselves and our successors not to transgress them. And if any one of our successors shall dare to at tempt this, whoever he may be, unless he repents after 224 THE MEDIAEVAL CHURCH. suitable admonition, he shall lose his right to the king dom." 1 Such was the price with which John purchased the friendship of the Pope. A price greater than he could afford! For while the sale of his country's indepen dence may not have been met with much of popular resentment at the time, it was a deed which the awak ening spirit of the nation was sure erelong to brand with deepest infamy. However, it gained him his im mediate end. The Pope declared himself well pleased, affirmed that the Holy Spirit alone could have inspired such gracious conduct, and promised that his legate should come as an angel of peace.2 Innocent proved to be a faithful ally of the recon ciled King. In his forwardness to defend his vassal, he did not shun the ignominy of patronizing his des potism and hurling his thunderbolts against those who sought to restrain his irresponsible rule by constitu tional limitations. He characterized the Great Charter, which the barons, with Stephen Langton at their head, had constrained the King to sign, as " not only a vile and base agreement, but also unlawful and iniquitous in its excessive derogation from the King's right and honor."3 He forbade its observance under pain of anathema, declared it utterly null and void, and caused bulls of excommunication to be published against the barons.4 He also punished Stephen Langton for his 1 Lib. xvi. epist. 77. 2 Lib. xvi. epist. 79, 137. 3 " Compositionem non solum vilem et turpem, verum etiam illi- citam et iniquam, in nimiam derogationem ac diminutionem sui juris pariter ac honoris." 4 Rymer, Foedera, i. 68-71. THE PAPAL THEOCRACY. 225 noble and patriotic course by suspending him from his high office. But neither the tyrant nor his supporter gained any substantial fruit from these measures. In nocent had scored his last victory in England. The barons were too deeply conscious of the justice of their cause to pay any heed to the papal fuiminations, and determined to fight out the conflict to the bitter end. They had shown no disposition to yield when, in 1216, the whole aspect of the case was changed by the death of both Pope and King. In dealing with the kingdoms of the Spanish Penin sula, Innocent made a free use of his characteristic ex pedients. Interdicts or threats of interdicts were of frequent occurrence. Sometimes the interference was for the purpose of making a prince keep the peace with a neighboring state ; sometimes it was designed to pre vent or to annul a marriage within the prohibited de grees. On the latter ground, the Kings of Leon and Castile were unmercifully harried, the one that he might be prevailed upon to send away a wife who had borne him children, and the other that he might claim back a daughter from the husband to whom he had given her. On the former ground, the ban was threat ened against the realm and the person of the King of Navarre. The ruler of Portugal was also menaced as delaying to pay the stipulated tribute, and being sus pected of hostile designs against Castile. If the King of Aragon enjoyed comparative immunity, it was probably due to the fact that he gratified the Pope immensely by surrendering his realm to him, and agreeing to pay yearly a sum of money in token of vas salage. Certainly, if Innocent had been so disposed, IS 226 THE MEDIAEVAL CHURCH. he might have found occasion for censure in a mar riage of this King, — a marriage far more obnoxious to all moral sense than some of those which evoked his anathemas. Innocent's relation to the Crusade undertaken in his pontificate was not specially flattering to his authority, and illustrates more largely his enterprise than his su premacy. He spared no pains to inaugurate the great expedition, thundering against the quarrels of princes which stood in the way of his preparations, taking the goods of those who enlisted under the special protection of the Church, and holding out the promise of plenary indulgence of sins to those who in person, or through one supported by their contributions, should add a soldier to the ranks of the crusading army. The latter inducement was set forth in terms like these : " Through the compassion of God, and trusting in the authority of the blessed apostles Peter and Paul, in virtue of that power of binding and loosing which God has con ferred upon us, though we be unworthy of its exercise, we grant to all who shall undertake the labor of this expedition in their own persons and at their own ex pense full indulgence of the sins for which they shall offer confession of mouth and contrition of heart, and in the reward of the just we promise them an increase of eternal salvation. To those who shall not proceed in person to the place of destination, but shall send , thither at their own expense, in correspondence with their means and rank, suitable men, who shall abide for at least the space of two years, and likewise to those who indeed at another's expense, but in their own persons, shall accomplish the journey, we grant full THE PAPAL THEOCRACY. 227 indulgence for their sins, — plenam suorum concedimus veniam peccatorum."1 After overcoming many hindrances, the Pope at length succeeded in gathering the forces which were expected to overthrow the Mohammedan dominion in the East, and give the Holy Land into the secure possession of the Christians. But here his control of the movement practically ceased. The shrewd and grasping Vene tians proved more than a match for papal authority. As the ships of the Republic were needed to transport so large a host, Venice was made the point of depart ure. A price exceeding the means of the crusaders was charged by the subtle Venetians for their convey ance. To make good the deficit, they were required to serve the Republic in the capture of Zara, a city claimed by the King of Hungary. Thus the army destined for a common enterprise of Christendom was made subservient to private greed. The fleet sailed to Zara in face of the papal prohibition, and delayed there in winter quarters. Equally unavailing were the Pope's denunciations of intervention in the affairs of Constan tinople. The crusaders listened to the appeals of a de throned Emperor and his son, drove out the usurper, set up the claimants whom they had taken under their patronage, and, as these were displaced in the swift movement of revolution, seized the government for themselves, placing the sceptre in the hand of Bald win, Count of Flanders, and nominating for the patri archal dignity a representative of the Venetians. This result was not without an element of satisfaction to the Pope, however chagrined he may have been at the suc- 1 Lib. i. epist. 336. 228 THE MED1JEVAL CHURCH. cessful defiance of his commands. He could now act as papal superior over the proud metropolis of the East. He therefore swallowed his wrath, revoked the excommunication of the Venetians, and gave his pro tection to the new kingdom. A gain had been made for the papal jurisdiction ; but it was only temporary. The Latin dominion at Constantinople lasted only about half a century, and served rather to alienate the Greeks than to establish a bond of union between East and West. A brief mention may fitly be made of Innocent's relations with the King of Bulgaria. This prince had placed himself and his realm under the spiritual juris diction of Rome. But the Pope had occasion to dis cover that it was no obsequious subject that he had won. Heedless of the remonstrances of Innocent, the Bulgarian King pursued his own advantage, and con tinued to oppose the Latin rule at Constantinople. Thus almost every region felt the powerful sway of the great dictator at Rome. But at the same time in almost every region there was a measure of open in difference to papal admonitions and of successful resist ance to papal mandates. We see the verification of a previous remark. — the proof that the power of the papacy even at its culmination was unequal to its pre tensions. The administration of Innocent III. marked an im portant era in dealing with heresy. This pontiff un doubtedly had a keen understanding of the power of free thought to undermine the existing fabric of the Church. He discovered that an encroaching heresy THE PAPAL THEOCRACY. 229 had already infected considerable districts. To him it appeared as the deadliest of foes, a heinous crime, a menace of anarchy and dissolution. The only way to deal with it, in his view, was to secure its speedy re moval either by converting the heretic or by destroy ing him. He opposed, therefore, an adamantine front to every species of pronounced heterodoxy. In very few portions of the whole field of history will one meet with the image of a more unsparing and inexorable despotism than that which will rise up before him as he peruses the decrees of Innocent III. against heretics. Scarcely another message to ecclesiastics and princes was more frequently repeated than the instruction to coerce the heretic. In the first year of his pontificate we find Innocent enjoining upon the Archbishop of Auch to visit the censures of the Church upon those in his juris diction who were guilty of heresy or of association with the guilty, debarring such from appeals, and if neces sary summoning princes and people to coerce them by the power of the temporal sword.1 In the same year he instructed the Bishop of Syracuse to excommuni cate heretics, and to cause the magistrates to confiscate their goods.2 The following year, in a communication addressed to the clergy, the consuls, and the people of Viterbo, he declared that the abetting of heresy ren dered one infamous and robbed him of all the preroga tives of citizenship ; that in lands under the temporal jurisdiction of the Roman see the goods of those found guilty of this fault should be confiscated ; that in other lands the secular powers should impose the same pen alty, under pain of being themselves visited with spir- 1 Lib. i. epist. 81. 2 Lib. i. epist. 509. 230 THE MEDIAEVAL CHURCH. itual censures. In the same connection he justified the prescribed severity by the famous a fortiori argument, so often used by persecutors, contending that if treason against the state deserves a bitter punishment, much more does defection from the faith, which is treason against the Son of God.1 In the year 1200 he wrote to the King of Hungary that a heretic after one or two admonitions was to be treated as devoid of civil rights.2 In 1204 he authorized the King of France, if he found any of his knights or barons affording shelter to here tics, to confiscate their goods and to add their terri tories to the royal domain.3 In 1206 he gave orders to the authorities at Faenza to expel the Poor Men of Lyons and the Paterines, confiscating the goods of those who did not have Catholic heirs, and either de stroying their houses or assigning them to the Church.4 The same year he encouraged the orthodox zeal of the King of Aragon by allowing him to possess himself of the property of heretics and their patrons.5 In 1207 he delivered a message to all the faithful in the papal dominions providing for the division of the property of heretics among the different parties engaged in their arrest and punishment, and ordering that the houses of the condemned should be destroyed to their foundations and left in perpetual ruin.6 Near the close of the same year, as a suitable initiation of the great tragedy which was to be enacted in Southern France, he summoned the faithful to arms against the heretics of that region, 1 Lib. ii. epist. 1. 2 Lib. iii. epist. 3. s Lib. vii. epist. 212. 4 Lib. ix. epist. 18. The parties referred to here are otherwise known as Waldenses and Cathari. 6 Lib. ix. epist. 102. 6 Lib x. epist. 130. THE PAPAL THEOCRACY. 231 and stimulated their ardor with the promise of the same rewards which the crusader was wont to seek in the long and dangerous march to the East. In a communi cation addressed to the King of France, he stated the reward in these terms : " We wish all the goods of the heretics to be confiscated, and both to yourself, either laboring in person or affording necessary aid, and to the men of your land who shall take arms against the per fidious,1 the same remission of sins shall be vouchsafed as we have deemed it proper to bestow upon those who assist in the rescue of the Holy Land." 2 As if bent upon supplying an ample prey to those whose bigotry and lust of plunder had been inflamed by his appeals, Innocent dealt with Raymond, the powerful Count of Toulouse, as if he had forfeited all claim by his indul gence of heresy. He was not allowed any reasonable terms of reconciliation, and his territories were ad judged to the leader of the crusade, the brave and able, but fierce and fanatical Simon de Montfort. The war was such as the rapacity and fanaticism of the assail ants might have been expected to entail. In truth, the horrors of the St. Bartholomew massacre were an ticipated. At the sacking of Bdziers, in 1209, an in discriminate fury sacrificed alike Catholic and heretic. " Slay them all, God will know His own," was the com mand of the Abbot Arnold, the ecclesiastical leader of the crusade, as Simon de Montfort was the secular. 1 The heretics of Languedoc, called Albigenses from the town of Alby, which was one of their centres. 2 Lib. x. epist. 149. Indulgences had also been offered in connection with the ineffectual crusade which was undertaken against the same heretics in the time of Alexander in., but in less generous terms. 232 THE MEDIAEVAL CHURCH. " Never," says Milman, " was war waged in which am bition, the consciousness of strength, rapacity, impla cable hatred, and pitiless cruelty played a greater part. And throughout the war it cannot be disguised that it was not merely the army of the Church, but the Church itself in arms. Papal legates and the greatest prelates headed the host, and mingled in all the horrors of the battle and the siege. In no instance did they interfere to arrest the massacre, in some cases urged it on." 1 As respects the beliefs of the Albigenses who were subjected to this exterminating onslaught, there has been some variety of opinion. Individual writers, in fluenced more or less by the desire to find a continuous chain of witnesses against the Romish apostasy, have been inclined to give a favorable estimate of their teach ing. In doing this they are compelled to challenge the reports of contemporary authorities, and to rule them out as the misshapen products of prejudice or malice. No doubt, some of these reports did receive a false coloring from the channel of ill-will and hatred through which they were delivered. An insufficient regard was sometimes paid to gradations of belief among the sec taries. In particular they were exposed to calumny as respects their moral conduct. While it is not neces sary to assume that their practice was uniformly on so high a level as their austere maxims, and some room may be given to the supposition that the attempt to maintain a strained and unhealthy crucifixion of the flesh reacted disastrously upon individuals, there is no reason to think that they fell below the average stan dard of morals in that age. On the contrary, an ap- 1 Lat. Christ, book ix. chap. 8. THE PAPAL THEOCRACY. 233 pearance of superior strictness and simplicity of life served them as an effective means of influence and propagandism. But, although it is the dictate of sim ple justice and sobriety to qualify some ultra phases of the contemporary testimony, it is a great perversion of history to represent the Albigenses as true expo nents of New Testament Christianity. While they re jected a large proportion of Romish corruptions, they introduced the evil virus of Gnostic and Manichaean tenets. For the more fanciful speculations of the Gnos tic schools and of the disciples of Mani they showed indeed little concern ; nevertheless, they were in close affinity with their fundamental views of the world and of man. This is proved by a sufficient mass of docu ments. Grant that the documents have been received from the hands of opponents; they came from such a variety of conditions, and exhibit so large a measure of agreement, that there is no valid ground to reject the main points in their testimony.1 The Albigenses were a branch of the Cathari. As was noticed in the preceding period, the creed of the Cathari was borrowed very largely from the Paulicians and the Bogomiles, Eastern sects which mixed their Christianity with various Gnostic and Manichaean ele ments. Some have supposed that a ground of accept ance had been prepared for the Eastern importations by the secret persistence of some of the teachings which had been propagated in the fourth century by the Priscillianists. However this may have been, the imported doctrines found a wide door of entrance. The 1 See documents collected by Dollinger, Beitrage zur Sektenge- scbichte des Mittelalters, Theil ii. 234 THE MEDIJEVAL CHURCH. Cathari became no inconsiderable sect. The attack made upon them in the early part of the eleventh cen tury did not arrest their progress. They continued to win converts in Italy, France, Germany, and some of the Scandinavian countries. In Bosnia their strength was not broken till the fourteenth century. In all these countries the circumstances of their growth are very obscure. No leaders appeared whose personal prominence might serve to illuminate their history. Some writers, indeed, suppose that Pierre de Bruys and Henry of Lausanne — who obtained in the twelfth century a considerable following in France known as Petrobrusians and Henricians — were genuine repre sentatives of the Catharist sect.1 But others doubt the warrant for this conclusion. In any case, only a mod erate amount of definite historical materials is afforded in the record of these two men. Most of our informa tion respecting the Cathari comes from the era of extir pation which began in the pontificate of Innocent III., 1 Dollinger reaches this conclusion. ( Sektengeschichte, i. 75-97.) The most weighty item in the evidence is perhaps the allegation, ad duced by Peter the Venerable, that the Petrobrusians rejected large por tions of the Biblical Canon. (Epist. adv. Petrobrusianos. ) But, as his words indicate, this allegation was based on rumor, — an insecure ground for deciding respecting the doctrine of the sect, and still less decisive respecting that of its founder. The followers of Pierre de Bruys may have been ied by their antipathy against the hierarchy to more or less of association with the Cathari, and to an ultimate appropriation of Catharist beliefs which were no part of their original creed. Ber nard, it is true, in speaking of some sectaries of his time, distinctly imputes to them certain Manichaean tenets (Sermones in Cantica, lxv., lxvi.) ; but so far is he from associating these sectaries with Pierre de Bruys or with Henry, that he places them in contrast with other hereti cal sects on the express ground of their having no leaders or prominent teachers from whom they might take their name. THE PAPAL THEOCRACY. 235 and was continued through the agency of the Inquisi tion into the next century. Among the Cathari distinctions of belief existed cor responding very much to those between the Paulicians and Bogomiles.1 As respects their general creed, Rei- nerus, who says that he was a member of the sect for seventeen years, gives the following account : " The Cathari hold in common that the devil made this world and all things which are therein. Likewise, that all the sacraments of the Church — namely, the sacrament of baptism by material water, and the other sacraments — avail in no degree for salvation, and are no true sacra ments of Christ and His Church, but deceptive and diabolical, and pertaining to a church of malignants. Likewise it is the common opinion of all the Cathari that physical marriage is always mortal sin, and that one does not earn a severer punishment in the future by the crime of incest or adultery than by legitimate marriage. Likewise all the Cathari deny the future resurrection of the flesh. They also believe that to eat flesh, eggs, or cheese, even in a case of urgent necessity, is a mortal sin ; that secular authorities com mit mortal sin in punishing malefactors or heretics ; that no one can be saved except through themselves. 1 Reinerus mentions three sections, the Albanenses, the Concore- zenses, and the Bagnolenses. (Contra Waldenses, cap. vi.) The first of these affiliated with the absolute dualism of the Paulicians, tlie second with the modified dualism of the Bogomiles; the third also adopted the modified dualism, but preferred on some other points the special tenets of the Albanenses to those of the Concorezenses. Dol linger associates the Albigenses with the strict dualists, who, while they were a minority of the Cathari in Italy, were the more numerous in other regions. 236 THE MEDIAEVAL CHURCH. They all deny purgatory. It is also a common opinion of the Cathari, that he seriously transgresses who kills any bird from the least to the greatest, or any quad ruped from a weasel to an elephant. But respecting other animals they do not hold the like view."1 To this list of opinions should be added a decided repro bation of the worship of images and saints. In connection with the rejection of the Romish idea of purgatory, it may be observed that the Cathari pro vided a substitute in their theory that souls which have not been purged from sin before the death of the body undergo the ordeal of transmigration. The strict dualists believed that all souls which have been created by the good Deity will finally be saved. They also taught the pre-existence of souls. On these points the moderate dualists were of a different opinion. The former class rejected the entire Old Testament ; many in the latter class reserved some portions of it. Some apocryphal additions to the New Testament had place among them, such as a so called " Gospel of John," in which a series of questions propounded by the Apostle to Christ are resolved in a sense agreeable to the Cathari. Like the Manichaeans, the Catharist sect consisted of two broadly distinguished divisions, the "perfect," and the " simple believers " or " hearers." The latter were expected to be received into the company of the former before death. Meanwhile they were not subjected to the full measure of unsparing asceticism which was incumbent upon the perfect. 1 Contra Waldenses, cap. vi., Maxima Bibliotheca Veterum Patrum, torn xxv. pp. 267, 268. THE PAPAL THEOCRACY. 237 The rite which had most significance among the Cathari was the consolamentum. This was the solemn laying on of hands, and was regarded as the true spir itual baptism which Christ placed in contrast with that of water. The one who had received it was obligated to the strict life of the perfect. Great emphasis was laid upon the necessity of this rite. As a substitute for the eucharist the Cathari practised a religious breaking of bread in connection with their ordinary meals, when ever any one of the perfect was present. While the Romish hierarchy was an object of their special detestation, they recognized different ranks of ecclesiastics among themselves. They had their bishops, with each of whom were connected two assistants called respectively the " elder son " and the " younger son." They had also their deacons. Some distinct references are found, moreover, to a supreme head, a Catharist pope, though it may be presumed that his authority was acknowledged only by those who held in common the stricter dualism. In view of the false ingredients which they mingled with their protest against Romish corruptions, the over throw of the Albigenses, or, more broadly speaking, of the Cathari, cannot be regretted. In saying this, however, we are not to be regarded as qualifying the infamy of the method by which their extirpation was accomplished. The Waldenses, who were also touched by the storm of persecuting rage, resembled the Albigenses in their advocacy of apostolic simplicity and poverty, but were not, like them, infected with the leaven of Oriental dualism, and in general kept within more moderate 238 THE MEDIAEVAL CHURCH. limits in their protests against the Romish system. A more specific account of this reforming party will be given in the next period. The support which Innocent III. gave to the war against the Albigenses was not his last stroke against heresy. As if resolved to lay a sure foundation against heretical innovation in the future, he published near the close of his pontificate a definite plan for its prosecu tion. At the Fourth Lateran Council, in 1215, he gave an ecumenical sanction to a thorough scheme of repres sion. In the article De Hwretieis it was ordained that every archbishop or bishop, either in person or through suitable agents, should visit once or twice a year any locality in his jurisdiction where there was rumor of heresy, and compel three men, or the whole community if it should seem expedient, to take oath that, if they had knowledge of any heretics in the vicinity, or of secret conventicles, or of persons who in their life and manners held themselves aloof from the communion of the faithful, they would point them out. The ac cused were to be summoned, and if found guilty to be punished. Here was the germ of the Inquisition. It was only necessary that the functions assigned to the resident bishops should be confided to a special tri bunal, as they were by the second among Innocent's successors, to inaugurate the institution which was to be the most fearful engine of spiritual despotism known to the history of the Church. In the same article careful provision was made to insure the co-operation of the temporal ruler in the extermination of heresy. He must rule out the heretic or be himself ruled out. "If a temporal lord," says the decree, "after being THE PAPAL THEOCRACY. 239 summoned and admonished by the Church, shall neglect to purge his land of heretical defilement, the metro politan and the bishops of the province shall bind him with the excommunication. If he refuses to give satis faction within a year, his case shall be brought before the supreme pontiff, and he shall declare his vassals released from their allegiance, and shall give over his land to the occupation of Catholics, who, having exter minated the heretics, shall possess it without challenge and preserve it in purity of faith." 1 Such was the reign of him who sat in the chair of Peter at the noonday of papal power. One can scarcely refrain from admiration as he contemplates the wonderful scope of his oversight and activity. The record of his correspondence is of itself adequate proof of his extraordinary executive talent. He may be credited also with a sincere regard for the interests of Christendom. Nevertheless there was in his rule an element which must ever be revolting to a clear moral sense. His eager ambition to magnify on all occasions his own prerogatives, and his warped and arbitrary decisions in several of the great causes of the nations, give an aspect to his sovereignty which asso ciates it rather with the prince of this world than with Him who said, " My kingdom is not of this world." IV. — THE PAPACY FROM INNOCENT III. TO BONIFACE VIII. The successors of Innocent III. were by no means his equals in capacity for rule. Still the transition from 1 Mansi, torn. xxii. 240 THE MEDIAEVAL CHURCH. his pontificate does not mark any abrupt descent in the fortunes of the papacy. There was no abatement in its claims. As respects actual power, also, a high level was maintained till the latter part of the century. This result was due in no small degree to the agency of the mendicant orders. In the first decades after their formation these orders were stanch allies of the papacy. Rapidly pressing into every quarter, and gain ing immense influence with the people, they were able to make an ample return for the benefits which were lavished upon them by their patron at Rome. Among the first of the tasks devolved upon the pa pacy in this era was the completion of the extermi nating assault upon heresy which had been inaugurated by Innocent III. Notwithstanding the victorious cru sade which had been made against the Albigenses and the formal assignment of the land to Simon de Montfort, the work of extirpation and subjugation still awaited a final stage. The expelled Count of Toulouse and his son, known afterwards as Raymond VII., reappear upon the scene. The strong attachment of the people secures them ready assistance. De Montfort falls in the conflict, and the house of Raymond comes again into the ascendant. But the hard-earned victory is not long enjoyed. The French throne supported by the papacy compels Raymond VII. to the sacrifice of much territory, reduces him from the comparative indepen dence asserted by his ancestors to a position of strict vassalage, and binds him to the uprooting of heresy in his domains. To insure the fulfilment of this requisi tion, the Council of Toulouse in 1229 published an elab orate plan of inquisition. Among the demands imposed THE PAPAL THEOCRACY. 241 were the following. Archbishops and bishops must ap point in every parish a priest and two or more laymen, and require them under oath to make a minute search for heretics, penetrating into every suspected quarter and possible lurking place, and bringing both the viola tors of the orthodox faith and their patrons to judg ment. If any one tolerates heresy upon his domain, he is to lose his land forever, and his body shall be in the power of his lord, to be dealt with as may be fit ting. A house which shelters a heretic is to be de stroyed and its site confiscated. A bailiff who neglects to make a vigorous prosecution of heretics in the region where he resides is to lose his goods, and no more to exercise his office, either there or elsewhere. Heretics who return to the Church of their own free will are to be located in a Catholic community, and to wear a cross upon each shoulder as a penance for their former un faithfulness, while those who seek reconciliation with the Church under constraint, moved by fear of death or similar cause, shall be so incarcerated that they shall not have opportunity to corrupt others. The names of all males above fourteen years of age and of all females above twelve shall be put on record, and every two years they must take oath to keep the Catholic faith and to oppose heretics to the extent of their ability. By the same council the laity were forbidden to have the Scriptures, with the exception of the Psalter and such passages as were contained in the authorized ritual; and this much they must on no account possess in the vernacular. The language of the decree is as follows : " Prohibemus etiam, ne libros veteris testamenti aut novi, laici permittantur habere: nisi forte psalterium, 16 242 THE MEDIAEVAL CHURCH vel breviarium pro Divinis officiis, aut horas beatae Mariae aliquis ex devotione habere velit. Sed ne prae- missos libros habeant in vulgari translatos, arctissime inhibemus." 1 Before the meeting of the Council of Toulouse and the settlement of affairs in Southern France the papacy had embarked upon one of its most noteworthy con flicts, — the last great struggle with the Empire as rep resented by the Hohenstaufen family. This struggle, while it had its special occasions, was the natural pro duct of the essential rivalry between Pope and Em peror. By virtue of their position they were rivals. Theocratic rule as it was conceived by the Pope, and imperial rule as it was conceived by an Emperor of high spirit and ambition, could not well be reconciled. Frederic II. was not a sovereign who coveted a quar rel with the spiritual power. He was not recklessly bent upon a policy of aggression. In disposition he was probably more placable than Frederic Barbarossa, certainly more placable than Henry VI. But at the same time he was ready to maintain all the rights which he regarded as belonging to the Empire, and in doing so he was trammelled by no superstitious awe. A patron of literature, having much of the spirit of the humanist, he was disposed to a freedom of thought which indeed stopped short of positive infidelity, but was also remote from blind reverence. He was able to estimate the papacy at its worth, and, finding it to be a grasping earthly power, to deal with its censures as simply the arts of an unscrupulous rival. 1 Mansi, torn, xxiii. Compare Synod of Tarragona in 1233, and of Ueziers in 1246. THE PAPAL THEOCRACY. 243 The first occasion of rupture was the delay of Fred eric to embark upon a crusade. Yielding to the urgent solicitations of Honorius III., he had not only agreed to lead such a project, but bound himself to depart by a certain date, namely, August, 1227. He kept his word so far as to embark about the appointed time. But the extreme heat of the season engendered sickness, and, on the plea that a due regard to his health re quired it, Frederic returned again to land. Very likely his excuse would have been entertained, and a time of grace allowed him, if his case had been in the hands of Honorius. But this moderate pontiff had been succeeded by one as captious and assertatory as he was energetic, the indomitable old man who took the name of Gregory IX. As if it were a thing too certain to be inquired into, he pronounced Frederic's excuses mere pretences, and launched against him the excommunication. The next year, as the Emperor again embarked, he inhibited his departure, and sent messengers before him into the Holy Land, who should there publish his excommunication and forbid all Chris tians to render him any service or recognition. When, in spite of such an introduction, Frederic had concluded an advantageous treaty, by which it was stipulated that Jerusalem should be given into Christian possession, he denounced the treaty as a monstrous attempt to recon cile Christ and Belial. Meanwhile he attempted to stir up the adversaries of Frederic at home, and zealously forwarded a movement to seize upon his territories in Italy. The Emperor on his side gave no further heed to papal censures and accusations than to make his ap peal to the judgment of Europe. He contemned alike 244 THE MEDIAEVAL CHURCH. the anathemas and the prohibitions of Gregory. Hav ing satisfied his ambition in the East by placing the crown of Jerusalem upon his head, he suddenly re turned to Italy. An easy victory over the papal forces followed, and, after all his outpouring of fury, Gregory was constrained to a reconciliation (1230). Nine years of peace ensued, when a conflict more envenomed than ever was begun. The victories of Frederic over the Guelfic cities of Lombardy, which he undertook to chastise for their complicity in a re bellion against him in Germany, were regarded as im perilling the papal interests. Gregory therefore flew to his customary weapons, pronounced Frederic excom municated, released his subjects from their allegiance, declared any place in which he might reside under in terdict and any ecclesiastic who should dare to minister to him the rites of the Church degraded from his office, and sought for a prince who might have the courage to strive for his crown. Forgetting the claims of dig nity in the excess of passion, he launched out into un measured charges, berating Frederic as an infidel and blasphemer, a man who had not shunned to declare that Christ, Moses, and Mahomet were three impostors by whom the world had been deceived, and that only simpletons could believe that it was possible for God to be born of a virgin.1 As Frederic answered philippic with philippic, a war on paper proceeded alongside the sterner conflict of armies. The death of Gregory in 1241 rather interrupted than ended the struggle. Innocent IV. after a brief truce, renewed the quarrel with an ardor scarcely in- 1 Matthew Paris, sub anno 1239. THE PAPAL THEOCRACY. 245 ferior to the unscrupulous zeal of his predecessor. Eu rope was ransacked for money to fill the papal treasury, and for a prince to stand as claimant for Frederic's crown. To the honor of the European powers the claimants were not easy to discover and when discov ered were feebly sustained.1 But in the Italian cities the Pope had strong allies. During the war against these the Emperor was overtaken by heavy calamities, such as the capture of a favorite son and a defeat at Parma. Under the shadow of these reverses he died, in 1250.2 As already stated, no successor was left equal to sustaining the claims of his house. His de scendants were soon cut off. The Papacy triumphed over the Empire. The triumph of the papacy, however, was more ap parent than real, at least as respects its position in Christendom at large. The victory was purchased at a cost which gave it very much the character of a defeat. In the first place, the unchristian hardness and ferocity of Gregory IX. and Innocent IV. caused a revulsion of feeling in many breasts. Faithful sons of the Church, like Louis IX. of France, openly declared their horror of the papal violence and implacability. As Gregory IX. sent word to France that he had awarded Frederic's crown to Robert, the brother of the King, the reply came back in these words of stinging rebuke : " What presumptuous daring is this, that the 1 Henry of Thuringia, who early suffered defeat and death, was fol lowed by William of Holland. 2 The Pope thought it fitting to announce the death of his great an tagonist in such words of exultation as these : "Laetantur coeli, et exultet terra ! " (Raynaldus, sub anno 1251, n. 3.) 246 THE MEDIAEVAL CHURCH. Pope should presume to disinherit and to cast down from the height of the imperial dignity a prince who has no superior, or even equal, among Christians, and that too before he has been convicted of the crimes charged against him or made confession thereof. Even if he deserved to be deposed, the sentence should not be passed without the approbation of a general council. As respects the transgressions with which he is charged, faith ought not to be reposed in the word of his enemies, of whom the Pope is the most deadly. To us he has given no grounds of accusation, yea, has been a good neighbor, nor have we seen any reason for challenging his fidelity in worldly relations or his Catholic faith. This we know, that he has fought loyally for our Lord Jesus Christ, exposing himself resolutely to the perils of the sea and the hazards of battle. So much religion we have not yet found in the Pope." 1 Again people, princes, and ecclesiastics were alienated by the enormous exactions of the Popes. Nothing is more prominent in the narratives of Matthew Paris for this era than the sense of torture which was caused by the unbounded demands of Rome. A significant in dex of this feeling is seen in the way in which the peo ple discussed the Pope's charges against Frederic II., particularly the accusation of heresy and blasphemy. They were inclined to doubt the charges, and declared it an item in favor of the Emperor that he had not let loose upon them a band of usurers and extortioners.2 England in particular had reason to complain of the papal exactions. The Popes dealt with the country as the avarice of ancient Rome claimed the right to deal 1 Matthew Paris, sub anno 1239. 2 Ibid. THE PAPAL THEOCRACY. 247 with a conquered province. It has been estimated that during a few years the agents of Gregory IX. at Lon don plundered the realm of a sum equivalent to fifteen millions sterling at the present rate.1 No wonder that there were bitter comments, and instances in which the exactors were exposed to personal violence. In another respect, also, the papacy was injured by its own representatives. To shut out the heirs of Fred eric II. from the kingdom of Naples and Sicily, the crown of this realm was awarded to Charles of Anjou, a man of grasping and unprincipled ambition. Thus a foothold was given to that ascendency of French poli tics which speedily brought the papacy into abject sub- servienc}' to the French throne. In 1281 the arts of Charles of Anjou secured the election of a French Pope. "From this time forward," says Alzog, "French patronage, politics, and tyranny inflicted deeper wounds upon the papal dignity than had ever been inflicted by the spiteful enmity of the Hohenstaufen Emperors."2 At an earlier date, if the record may be trusted, a prince of entirely different spirit from Charles of Anjou, the sainted Louis IX., had laid a foundation for the rights of the national Church in the contest with Roman centralization. In the so called Pragmatic Sanction the privilege of the Pope to make levies upon property in the realm was declared dependent upon the consent of the King and Church of France, and the rights of local parties in filling vacant offices, as opposed to papal interference, were guaranteed. The genuineness of this document has been denied, but it is quoted by 1 Hallam, Europe in the Middle Ages. 2 Kirchengeschichte, § 225. 248 THE MEDIEVAL CHURCH. very eminent historians as a part of the national legis lation under Louis IX. Still another cause of decline, which assailed the pa pacy through the indiscretion and greed of its repre sentatives, may be adduced. We refer to the nepotism which turned the attention of Popes from wider pro jects to the task of advancing their relatives in worldly power, honors, and riches. Nicolas III. (1277—1280) gave a conspicuous example of this practice, whose overgrown excess in subsequent times was to be one of the most repellent features of the papacy. V. — VARIOUS FEATURES OF CHURCH CONSTITUTION. As the preceding history has indicated, it continued to be a wavering line which ran between the provinces of Church and State. While there was a general ad vantage on the side of the Church, the State still found means to gratify in a measure its appetite for control over ecclesiastical offices and revenues. Notwithstand ing the powerful efforts of the Popes, secular interfer ence in episcopal elections was but slowly relinquished. During the twelfth century it was no uncommon thing in Sicily, Hungary, Denmark, and Sweden for kings to nominate bishops. In the thirteenth century, as a partial compensation for the surrender of their share in the appointment of bishops, sovereigns acquired the " right of first prayers," jus primarum precum, which gave them a claim to one piece of patronage from every new bishop or abbot. As ways of getting their hands into the ecclesiastical treasury, they applied the jus rega lia and the jus spolii or jus exuviarum. Both of these THE PAPAL THEOCRACY. 249 were well established on the Continent in the twelfth century, and at the close of the preceding century were greatly abused in England by William Rufus. The former was based upon the feudal principle that a vacant fief reverts to its lord. In the application of this principle, sovereigns were able to enjoy the revenues of vacant sees and of monasteries waiting for the elec tion of an abbot. The jus exuviarum concerned the fur niture and other property of deceased bishops. This claim seems primarily to have been based on services rendered in the way of protection. Having defended the goods of the dead officials against the greed of lawless nobles, sovereigns began to think themselves entitled to a share in such property. Besides asserting claims of this character, temporal rulers sometimes im posed heavy taxes upon the clergy.1 The exclusion of the secular power from the appoint ment of bishops was not wholly in the interest of free elections. What the Popes took away from the sover eign they were disposed to arrogate to themselves. Not only did they exercise the right to confirm bishops, but also in many instances to nominate. Thus, in the course of the thirteenth century, they filled with their own nominees five out of seven vacancies in the see of Can terbury. A class of bishops still more distinctly the clients of the Pope than these appointees came into existence by reason of the downfall of Christian rule in the East. Expelled from their sees by the Mohammedans, various bishops received hospitality in the West. As they died, 1 Gieseler, Kirchengeschichte, § 63; Robertson, Church History, books vi., vii. 250 THE MEDIAEVAL CHURCH. the Pope, in order to keep up the semblance of a Chris tian claim to the conquered territory, passed over their titles to others, who were appointed as their successors. Thus was conserved a class of titular bishops, known as episcopi in partibus infidelium. The Popes were also disposed to extend their patron age to other offices. Bishops in the outlying coun tries were expected to provide places for a crowd of hungry Italians. Three hundred was the modest con tingent which Gregory IX. in 1240 asked some English bishops to supply with benefices. Closely linked with this zeal for patronage, as has been observed, was the zeal for revenue. A conspicuous exhibition of the lat ter was the request of Honorius III. and Innocent IV. that the income of certain prebends in each cathedral or monastic church (in France and England) should be set apart for the Roman curia. As the papal exactions had already become an enormous scandal, such a re quest naturally was not met in any spirit of amiable compliance. Endeavors were made to limit the prerogative of the secular power to tax the clergy. Alexander III. set forth the principle, that payments for civil purposes, other than those founded upon the feudal relation, should depend upon the free will of the clergy. The Lateran Council under Innocent III. (can. 46) added as a further condition of such payments the permit of the Pope. The principle of clerical immunities, so emphatically asserted by Becket, continued to be maintained by the Church with a good degree of tenacitj', and sometimes was guaranteed by sovereigns, as by Frederic II. at the THE PAPAL THEOCRACY. 251 time of his coronation at Rome.1 In practice, however, the principle was not always observed by sovereigns, and their just complaints moved the ecclesiastical au thorities, if not to modify the immunities, at least to sharpen the penalties against clerical offenders. Thus Innocent III. instructed the prelates to hold in strict custody such .of their clergy as were proved guilty of crimes. He also forbade them to secure from the grasp of the secular authorities such as had been degraded from their orders. At a council held under the Eng lish primate in 1261 it was ordained that a crime which would make a layman liable to a capital sentence should entail life-long imprisonment upon a member of the clergy. Fourteen years later the first Statute of West minster provided that, while the person of a clerk ac cused of felony should be given over at the demand of the spiritual authority, the secular judge should in vestigate the case, and, if guilt were proved, the King should confiscate the property of the culprit. At the same time that the Church claimed judgment over its own servants, it was disposed to extend its jurisdiction over outside parties. Various matters which belonged properly to the civil tribunal were drawn into the ecclesiastical courts. An opportunity for encroach ment in this direction was supplied by the Crusades, it being established that a crusader accused of crime was not to be held by the temporal magistrate, but to answer at the bar of the spiritual authority.2 The legislation indicates the prevalence in the cler ical body of the same order of abuses that had place i Hefele, § 649. 2 So ordained the Synod of Tours, 1236, can. 1. 252 THE MEDIEVAL CHURCH. in the preceding period. Canons were issued from time to time against the practice of arms,1 against luxurious and frivolous habits,2 against pluralities, against simony, against the appointment of boys to benefices connected with the cure of souls, against ordinations at large, against exacting payment for the administration of the sacraments. But the most notorious irregularity was the wide-spread and persistent violation of the rule enjoin ing celibacy. The policy of Gregory VII. was in gen eral pursued by the Popes, and some severe enactments were directed against the offending clergy. Thus Ur ban II., through the Council of Amalfi, in 1089, decreed that liberty should be given the secular power to seize the wives of the clergy and to reduce them to slavery. But it was found to be much easier to pass decrees on this subject than to execute them. So the authorities themselves apprehended, and it was with varying energy that they pressed their demands in different quarters. In the border countries there was no earnest attempt to enforce celibacy till the latter part of the period. Down to the thirteenth century marriage of the clergy was the prevailing custom in Hungary, Bohemia, Poland, Denmark, and Sweden. In Wales the like custom was scarcely eradicated before the Reformation of the six teenth century gained for it the sanction of law. In 1 The warlike propensities of the bishops gave signal occasion for such legislation. " The chroniclers describe with a mixture of admira tion and reprobation the exploits of such prelates as Christian of Mentz, who appeared in full armor at the head of armies, and, after having in one battle slain nine men with his spiked club, arrayed himself on the following day in pontificals, and solemnly celebrated a mass of thanks giving for the victory " (Robertson, book vi.) 2 See, as an example, canon 17 of the Fourth Lateran Council. THE PAPAL THEOCRACY. 253 England marriage of the clergy was of frequent occur rence till the middle of the thirteenth century. An equal or greater departure from the rule of celibacy had place in Spain to a still later date ; indeed, in no land equally accessible to Roman authority was the crusade against clerical marriage carried on more feebly than in Spain. In various countries it was necessary to give attention to the fact that the sons of the clergy were being obtruded into benefices, and that sacred positions were being made hereditary.1 Where the efforts of the hierarchy were successful in checking the practice of marriage, they were far from abolishing that of concu binage ; in truth, limitation in one direction was apt to be avenged by license in the other. In some instances bishops condoned for a price the unhallowed substitute for nuptials, — a shameless traffic in fornication which was not fully abrogated before the sixteenth century.2 The infection of this license reinforced, of course, the ordinary tendencies to corruption within the monastic institute. A sufficient illustration has been given in the preced ing sections of the way in which spiritual censures were employed by the Popes to exact obedience. Indica tions are not wanting that the excommunication was sometimes ineffectual against lesser culprits, as well as against sovereigns. We find synods ordaining that those who had been excommunicated a year should be compelled by the secular power to seek reconciliation with the Church.3 1 See Councils of Gerundum in 1078, Amalfi in 1089, Clermont in 1095, Epist. (v. 66, 67) of Innocent in. in 1202. 2 See Lea, Sacerdotal Celibacy, chaps, xvi., xvii. 8 So the Synod of Tarragona in 1233, and that of Paris in 1248. 254 THE MEDIJEVAL CHURCH. One of the most important regulations in the sphere of discipline which the period witnessed was that im posed by the twenty-first canon of the Fourth Lateran Council (1215), by which auricular confession to a priest once a year was made obligatory upon all mem bers of the Church having reached years of discretion. Before the end of the century the full scholastic theory was installed, according to which the absolution pro nounced upon the penitent by the priest is a judicial act, a means of setting free from sins, and not merely declaratory of the divine forgiveness. Thomas Aquinas took this position, and taught, in conformity therewith, that the proper formula of absolution is, "I absolve thee." Thus finally priestly pretence reached its cli max, reconciliation with the Church was confounded with reconciliation with God, and a sinful mortal un dertook the solemn farce of exercising the prerogatives of Omniscient Deity. It only remained for the Coun cil of Trent to stamp as dogma what scholasticism had enthroned. In connection with the preceding periods, adequate evidence has been given that it was only very gradually that the absolving declaration of the priest came to be distinctly regarded as a judicial sentence, that is, for anything more than the penitent's ecclesiastical rela tion. Additional evidence of the same fact may be found in the present period. Writers of the twelfth century as prominent as Peter Lombard and Robert Pullus took the ground that the absolution by the priest is merely declaratory, — a showing forth, in the sphere of the Church, of what God has accomplished or may be presumed to have accomplished. Speaking THE PAPAL THEOCRACY. 255 of God's agency, the former says : " He Himself alone through Himself remits sin, who also purifies the soul from interior stain, and releases from the debt of eter nal death. But He has not conceded this to the priests, to whom, nevertheless, He has assigned the power of loosing and binding, that is, of showing men bound or loosed." 1 The same limitation appears in the words of Pullus : " The priest absolves from sins, not in the sense that he remits them, but that he discloses their remission through the sacrament. And what is this work of disclosing except a means of affording con solation to the penitent ? " 2 A like view appears at the beginning of the thirteenth century with William, Bishop of Paris. He says : " The confessor does not, like the judges of the civil courts, pronounce the words, ' We absolve thee, we do not condemn,' but rather makes a prayer over the penitent that God may grant him absolution." 3 Some of the contemporaries of these writers, however, had already approached the theory of absolution which is found with Aquinas. At the same time that the doctrine of sacramental absolution was completed, a theoretical basis was sup plied to the current practice of abridging or cancelling satisfaction for sins by virtue of indulgences. This was obtained in the notion that the supererogatory merits of the saints, as well as those of Christ, make a great treasure, which is at the disposition of the Church, or, more specifically, of the Pope as the head of the 1 Sent. iv. 18. 5, 6. 2 Sent. vi. 61. a " Neque more judicum forensium pronunciat confessor: 'Absolve- mus te, non condemnamus '; sed magis orationem facit super eum ut Deus absolutionem . . . tribuat." (Quoted by Etienne Chastel, His- toire du Christianisme, iii. 354.) 256 THE MEDIJEVAL CHURCH. Church. This treasure, it was conceived, could be used to cancel, in whole or in part, the temporal penalty or satisfaction which was regarded as still due for sins after the eternal penalty had been removed by penitence, confession, and absolution. Such an application of the supposed treasure was called an indulgence. In the view of the better informed, therefore, an indulgence was not in the full sense a remission of sin. At the same time, it was accounted something more than the remission of a mere ecclesiastical penance imposed sim ply for discipline ; it was regarded as a remission of the penalty or satisfaction still due in divine justice, after the guilt of sin and the larger, or eternal, penalty have been cancelled.1 At the best, therefore, the theory of indulgences had this obnoxious element, that it enthroned human discretion, the discretion or caprice, perchance, of one of the vilest of men, over the claims of Divine justice.2 But this was only a part of the evil which came into the Church at this door. The limita tions which had place in the scholastic theory were very imperfectly apprehended. Many of the people looked upon indulgences as practically a means of escaping all the consequences of their sins, and their superi ors did not use adequate caution to guard against the misconception. The result was, of course, the serious demoralization of great numbers. 1 This was plainly the opinion of Thomas Aquinas (Sum. Theol., iii., Sup. 25. 1), as it is the implication of the decrees of the Council of Trent. 2 In the approved theory, an indulgence for the living was reckoned a judicial act. As respects indulgences for the dead, many eminent theologians have not ventured to assign them so unconditional an efficacy. THE PAPAL THEOCRACY. 257 The character of the legislation against heresy has already been indicated in quotations from the epistles of Innocent III. and the canons of the Council of Tou louse. Decrees equally severe were issued by other popes and councils. For example, the Council of Aries, in 1234, decreed that all convicted of heresy, whatever show of repentance they might make, should be imprisoned for life. That there was a plenty of victims under this policy is adequately indicated by the fact that the Synod of Narbonne, in 1243, found it necessary to suspend for the time being the sentence to life-long imprisonment, since the number of con victed heretics was greater than the prisons could hold. The same synod, however, made a bid for increased convictions, ordaining that, where heresy was in ques tion, the worthless and discredited character of the witness should be no bar against allowing him to give in his testimony. The attempt of the Church to rule men in all rela tions naturally resulted in a great mass of legislation. In the twelfth century, as the distinguished Irnerius revived the study of Roman law at Bologna, it was felt that the canon law, in order to hold its own, needed to be collected and systematized. A monk by the name of Gratian undertook this great task. His collection is known as the Decretum Gratiani. After several supplements had been added to Gratian's work, a new collection in five books was made by Raymond of Pennaforte, at the instance of Gregory IX. In this the papal decretals formed the principal matter. A sixth book was added by Boniface VIII. Shortly after wards, another collection was prepared by Clement V. 17 258 THE MEDIAEVAL CHURCH. This, which is known as the Clementines was pub lished in 1317 by John XXII. Papal constitutions viewed as detached from the general collections, or as additional to them, were frequently designated as extravagantes, an abbreviation of the phrase extra decre tum vagantes. CHAPTER III. THE CRUSADES. THE Crusades were the first great enterprise which unlisted the common zeal of the Christian na tions of Europe. History records scarcely another in stance in which an equal enthusiasm has wrought in men of so many different countries and ranks. All classes of society, from the king down to the peasant, sent forth the armed pilgrims who were to reclaim the holy places of the East. Hundreds of thousands, pos sibly several millions, of men were sacrificed in these expeditions. At first glance we are astonished at the enormous expenditure of treasure and men upon a project seem ingly so Utopian. But further scrutiny speedily reveals that substantial causes lay back of the crusades. They were, in fact, a genuine expression of mediaeval insti tutions, thought, and feeling. The principal factors of mediaeval civilization are clearly visible in their origi nation. In the first place, .papal ambition urged on the cru sades. They were distinctly a means for extending papal dominion. The vanquishing of the infidel and the establishing of a Latin power in the East were to be utilized for the union of East and West. The Ro- 260 THE MEDIEVAL CHURCH. man pontiff hoped to find therein means for bringing an undivided Church beneath his sceptre. Gregory VII., who was the first to plan a crusade upon a large scale, gave prominence, as we have seen, to this design. Moreover the zeal of the Popes in these movements was stimulated by their bearing upon the papal suprem acy in the West. To engage powerful sovereigns in a crusade was an easy way to be relieved from danger ous rivals. Of course it is not to be supposed that the Popes from first to last were influenced solely by such motives as these. If is but just to credit them with a share in the religious sentiment by which the heart of Europe was so deeply touched.1 At the same time, it lies on the face of the history that their zeal was sustained by the desire and the expectation of official advantage. In the second place, military policy urged on the cru sades. Mohammedanism was still a threatening power. The access of a new host of converts, the hardy and sanguinary Turks, had infused into it a new energy. The degenerate Greeks were ill prepared to withstand their onsets. Conscious of their own weakness, they appealed to the Latins for aid, representing that Con stantinople with all its heirlooms of Christian antiquity 1 It may be noticed that Gerbert (known afterwards as Pope Syl vester II. ), three quarters of a century before the time of Gregory VII., spoke in a vein of deep feeling about the obligations of Christendom to despoiled and mourning Jerusalem. The following words, which he rep resents her as addressing to the Church Universal, seem very much like a call to a crusade : " Cum propheta dixerit : erit sepulchrum ejus gloriosum, paganis loca sancta subvertentibus, tentat diabolus reddere inglorium. Enitere ergo, miles Christi, esto signifer et compugnator, et quod armis nequis, consilii et opum auxilio subveni." (Epist. xxviii.) THE CRUSADES. 261 was likely to pass under the profaning hands of the infidels. To be sure, they soon learned to dread the Latins as much as the Turks, and made them the vic tims in more than one instance of their treacherous arts. But at the outset they were urgent enough in calling them to the rescue. It seemed, therefore, to be the dictate of a wise military discretion to take the offensive, and to beat back the foe before he had cap tured any more of the strongholds Of Christendom. Again, the crusading enthusiasm was sustained by the prevalent love of romantic adventure and warlike exploits. It was the period of "'youth' In '"the history of Europe. The age of manly reflection had not yet ar rived. Fantasy usurped largely the place of reason. Impelled by its elating and disquieting visions, multi tudes from all classes were ready to rush eagerly to^ ward a field of strange adventure. As for the knights, the continual feuds of the age had taught them to regard the practice of arms as their profession. The code of chivalry which was coming into vogue made daring exploits the price of honor. Naturally, there fore, the knight welcomed the crusade as at once grati fying his love of adventure and affording a theatre for the display of his valor. Once more, the value assigned to pilgrimages as a means of penance and religious edification powerfully assisted in swellingthe expeditions to the Holy Land. The crusades might aptly be described as armed pil grimages. They carried out on a larger scale the cus tom which long had been fostered by the materialistic piety of the times, — a piety which depended largely for its inspiration upon material objects and associa- 262 THE MEDIAEVAL CHURCH. tions. To such a type of religion nothing could seem more desirable, nothing more fruitful to the soul, than to stand amid the scenes which had been sanctified by the Savior's life and sufferings. Heaven, it was fondly pictured, stooped low above the Holy Sepulchre. Je rusalem, accordingly, from the days when the true cross was believed to have been discovered, was a favorite resort. The subjection of the city to Mohammedan rule did not stop the influx except in a season of un usual persecution. A continuous stream of pilgrims sought her gates, to satisfy their religious sentiment, or to gain a respite from the tortures of an accusing con science. We read of a French count who three times made the journey to Jerusalem, in his penitence for his crimes, and his endeavor to escape the pursuing spectres of those whom his cruelty had destroyed. Many sim ilar examples are on record. Often no greater boon was desired than the privilege of dying on the consecrated soil. When the pilgrims presented themselves before the Holy Sepulchre, they were accustomed, it is said, to offer up this prayer : " Thou who didst die for us and wast buried in this holy spot, take pity of our misery, and withdraw us at once from this valley of tears." 1 In some instances quite a large number of pilgrims un dertook the journey together. Thus, in the year 1054 the Bishop of Cambray set out with a company of three thousand, and ten years later seven thousand started under the Archbishop of Mayence and the neighboring prelates. This was carrying pilgrimage far toward the proportions of a crusade. Now, as the crusade an swered the same ends as a pilgrimage, and was regarded 1 J. F. Michaud, History of the Crusades, book i. THE CRUSADES. 263 as a work of even greater merit, it was but natural that any cause of special excitement should inflame a nu merous host with the ambition to march to Jerusalem and to drive out the infidel. Such a cause was supplied by the contagious zeal of Peter the Hermit. This man, who was a Frenchman by birth, made a pilgrimage to the. Holy Land in atone ment for the sins of his early fife. Both on his journey and after his arrival he had experienced the barbarities of the Turks, and witnessed the indignities which oth ers suffered at the hands of these rude Mohammedans, who had not the self-restraint to treat Christians with respect and kindness, though they allowed them to visit the Holy City for the sake of the revenue which they brought. At Jerusalem he met the Patriarch Simeon. As he listened to his plaints over the sad condition of affairs and the hopelessness of relief through the East ern Emperors, he was prompted to reply that Western Europe, if once thoroughly aroused, could be relied upon to bring effectual aid. The Patriarch caught at this suggestion, and, entering readily into the plan of his visitor, gave under his seal such a statement of the facts as might enlist the sympathies of Western Chris tians. Armed with this document, Peter the Hermit returned to Europe. Abundant success at once at tended his efforts. Pope Urban II. entered zealously into the project of a crusade, and the people made a generous response. At the Council of Placentia, in March, 1095, interest in the enterprise was manifested by an attendance of upwards of thirty thousand, and at the Council of Clermont in the ensuing November the enthusiasm of the vast throng broke through all 264 THE MEDIMVAL CHURCH. restraint, and interrupted the eloquent address of the Pope with the mighty and confident cry, " God wills it t " — « God wills it ! " The Pope took up the words, declared that they should be the battle cry of Christ's soldiers in the holy war, and commanded that all re cruits should attach to their garments the form of the cross. The time fixed upon for the departure of the crusad ing army was August, 1096. But the impatience of the people led them to anticipate this date. Before the military leaders had accomplished their preparations there were already on the march no less than four detachments, namely, some 20,000 under Walter the Penniless, 40,000 under Peter the Hermit, 15,000 un der a German priest by the name of Gottschalk, and an ill-assorted rabble of the baser elements of society estimated by some as high as 200,000. A large propor tion of these undisciplined and ungovernable troops fell by the hands of the Hungarians and Bulgarians, whose fear or wrath they excited by their lawless con duct. Walter the Penniless and Peter the Hermit succeeded in bringing a remnant of their forces to Con stantinople. These had an opportunity to fight with the infidels, but only to be wellnigh exterminated in a rash venture, which they made in the neighborhood of Nicaea. While thus an unguided enthusiasm was vainly sacri ficing the lives of tens of thousands, a well officered and well equipped army was being gathered. This came to Constantinople in different divisions, under such leaders as Godfrey of Bouillon, Hugh, Count of Ver- mandois, Raymond of Toulouse, and Bohemond of Ta- THE CRUSADES. 265 rentum, with his nephew Tancred. " According to the lowest computation the army must have numbered more than six hundred thousand soldiers and pilgrims. There were upwards of one hundred thousand mailed horse men, the flower of the chivalry of Europe. They were clothed for the most part in scale armor ; their heads were covered with glittering helmets."1 A truly for midable array! The Mohammedans now found that they had to deal with foemen worthy of their steel. In hard contested battles the Christian soldiers proved their superiority. Having taken Nicaea, Edessa, and Antioch on their way, they came at length with de pleted ranks to the Holy City. A brief siege and a desperate assault gave them possession, and their swords were dyed with the blood of the infidel inhabitants (1099). Godfrey of Bouillon was chosen King of Je rusalem ; and a worthier choice could not have been made. While he accepted the office, he declined the insignia and the title, refusing to wear a crown of gold in the city in which the Savior had worn a crown of thorns, and styling himself simply the " Defender of the Holy Sepulchre." Thus ended the first and most successful of the crusades. After defeating an army sent by the Egyptian Sultan to recapture Jerusalem most of the leaders returned to Europe. The second crusade (1147-1149) was commanded by Conrad III. of Germany and Louis VII. of France. It was a sad failure. Only a remnant of the great armies which took the march ever passed the limits of Asia Minor, where they were made the prey of treachery, famine, and the sword. 1 W. E. Dutton, History of the Crusades. 266 THE MEDIAEVAL CHURCH. Before the inauguration of the third crusade (1189- 1193) the Mohammedans had found a competent leader in the celebrated Saladin, and Europe had been shocked by the news that Jerusalem had again fallen under the rule of the infidel (1187). In response to the cry of grief and dismay the greatest sovereigns took the cross, Frederic I. of Germany, Philip Augustus of France, and Richard of England. Frederic perished on the march. A remnant of his army, together with the forces of Philip and Richard, assisted in the capture of Acre. Further success was hindered by the jealousies of the two kings. Richard, it is true, achieved some remark able exploits. His valor won him the admiration of the foe, as well as of his Christian adherents. So great, it is said, became the terror of his name, that Saracen mothers were wont to use it sixty years later as a means of frightening their children. But his deeds of bravery and personal force brought little gain to the Christian cause. An introduction to the fourth crusade (1202-1204) has already been given in the account of the pontifi cate of Innocent III. Its history shows how the baser motives of worldly ambition had usurped the place of the religious enthusiasm which first started the hosts of Europe toward the coasts of Asia. Instead of re gaining Jerusalem from the infidel, it gave the seat of Christian empire in the East into the possession of the Latins. The fifth crusade (1217-1221), under the King of Hungary, Hugh of Lusignan, and John de Brienne,1 1 Hugh was King of Cyprus, John de Brienne nominal King of Je rusalem. THE CRUSADES. 267 gained a temporary success in Egypt. Several years before this expedition, one of the wildest pieces of folly known to European history had been perpetrated, — the Children's Crusade (1212). In this senseless move ment, some thirty or forty thousand children either met their death through exposure and hunger, or, falling into the hands of pitiless and designing men, were sold into slavery. The sixth crusade (1228-1229) was led by Frederic II. As already observed, he acted under the weight of the papal ban, but was able, nevertheless, to effect a treaty for the surrender of Jerusalem, certain privileges being guaranteed to the Mohammedan residents. It has been supposed that still more favorable terms might have been obtained had it not been for the virulent opposi tion of the Pope. In the seventh and eighth crusades, undertaken in 1248 and 1270, the leading figure was St. Louis of France. Both were fruitless. The first came to dis aster in Egypt, after a brief season of success, during which Damietta was taken. The second was arrested by the ravages of a plague upon the coast of Africa, where Louis himself was among the victims. Prior to these expeditions, whose best result seems to have been the illustration which they gave of the piety and fortitude of the French King, Jerusalem had been finally lost to the Christians. Other strongholds in Palestine and Syria erelong shared the same fate. With the fall of Acre, in 1291, the last remnant of Christian dominion in the East which had been won by the crusades was relinquished. No serious effort was again put forth to wrest the Holy Land from Mo- 268 THE MEDIAEVAL CHURCH. hammedan rule. The voice of a Pope was indeed occa sionally raised in favor of a crusade. But zeal for the enterprise had perished, and could not be revived. Europe had not the requisite ambition to guard her own borders against the Turk, to say nothing about routing him from more distant fields. Among the memorials which survived the crusades the military orders were one of the most interesting. There were three, — the Hospitallers or Knights of St. John, the Templars, and the Teutonic Knights. The germ of the first was a hospital, which was founded in the eleventh century for the care of sick and wounded pilgrims. The brothers of the hospital lived under mo nastic rule. In the first half of the twelfth century the association took on a military cast. As now organized, the order consisted of serving brothers, who were occu pied with the care of the sick, priests, who discharged the rites of religion, and knights, whose duty it was to fight against the infidel and to guard the pilgrim. On the evacuation of Palestine, the Hospitallers retired to the island of Rhodes. In the time of Charles V. the island of Malta was assigned to them. The organiza tion of the Templars was like that of the Hospitallers. By the end of the crusades the order was extended over a large part of Europe, and was extensively en dowed. An object at once of jealousy and avarice, they were assailed by the most damaging reports as respects their morals and their faith, and, at the instigation of the despotic Philip the Fair, the order was dissolved in 1312, after having been subjected to a tragic ordeal. The Teutonic Knights were instituted, after the model of the other orders, in connection with the third cru- THE CRUSADES. 269 sade, and were specially devoted to the care and pro tection of German pilgrims. Service was also rendered by this order in the protection of Christianity in the district bordering on the Prussians, who still in the thirteenth century were stubbornly attached to their paganism. However fruitless the crusades may have been as respects their immediate object, they were far from being destitute of substantial results. If they did not transform Asia according to their intent, they trans formed Europe far beyond their design. They brought isolated sections into contact with each other, and led the nations to a wider outlook. They gave a new stimulus to thought and enterprise. The mind of Eu rope was made by their means more active, more in quisitive, and more confident. Hence, while they enlarged the power of the papacy in the beginning, they abridged it in the end. The Popes came to find in the people a less passive instrument to deal with, so that the assertion of their more extreme pretensions was likely to incur the ignominy of defeat. At the same time, the crusades effected a great trans formation in the constitution of society. They hastened the disintegration of the feudal system. Union in a common enterprise tended to lessen somewhat the dis tance between lord and vassal, between noble and peasant. Moreover, many a noble found himself em barrassed by the pecuniary demands of these great expeditions. To gain the necessary funds, he might be obliged to release a city from feudal obligations, or to make over a part of his domain to the king or 270 THE MEDIAEVAL CHURCH. other purchaser. Thus it came to pass that the feu dal nobility were depressed, and a relative ascendency was given to the king and the commercial classes. A centralizing movement, a movement toward the modern type of states, dates from the era of the crusades. CHAPTER IV. MONASTICISM. I. — THE CISTERCIANS AND THEIR GREAT REPRE SENTATIVE. AMONG the monastic fraternities which originated in the eleventh century, a distinguished place was occupied by the Carthusians and the Cistercians. The founder of the former was Bruno, the cultured prin cipal of the cathedral school at Rheims. His fervent piety gave him a predilection for the monastic life. At the same time, the conduct of his ecclesiastical supe riors stimulated his desire to escape the world. His archbishop was a man who could indulge the declara tion that the episcopal charge at Rheims would be a fine thing, if only one could enjoy the income with out being obliged to say mass. Disgusted by this heartless dealing with sacred things, Bruno retired to the lonely vale of Chartreuse in the neighborhood of Grenoble. Here, in 1084, with twelve companions, he initiated an order which bore an honored name by reason of unusual perseverance in a simple and austere piety. A kindred spirit gave rise to the Cistercians. The founder, Robert of Molesme, being dissatisfied with the lax fashion in which the Benedictine discipline was ad- 272 THE MEDIEVAL CHURCH. ministered in the existing societies, retired to Citeaux in the bishopric of Chalons, in 1098. Little addition was made under the first three abbots to the. twenty monks who began the foundation. The severity of the Cistercian rule was too far above the level of monastic enthusiasm to be generally attractive. Only the per sonal force of a great leader could enkindle the zeal which would welcome the rigorous scheme of the new order. In Bernard of Clairvaux such a leader was found. His name by itself established the reputation of the order, and secured its rapid spread. Its monas teries are said to have amounted to two thousand, and its nunneries to nearly six thousand, in the thirteenth century.1 Bernard was born in 1091. His life, accordingly, fell at a marked epoch in the history of Europe. It was the youthful, romantic, crusading era. Within the first eight years of his life came the stirring summons to the earliest of the crusades from the lips of Peter the Her mit, the sacrifice of scores of thousands of lives in the project, and the recovery of Jerusalem from the in fidel. In the inauguration of the second crusade Ber nard was himself the most conspicuous agent, and gave the full energies of his manhood to stir up princes and people to the holy emprise. It was a time when feeling was dominant over reflection ; a time when men were dissatisfied with the ordinary, and piety sought for it self extraordinary expression, urging its devotees to the cloister, the pilgrimage, or the adventurous undertak ing. Such an age Bernard was fitted at once to repre sent and to command. Possessing himself a heart deeply 1 Kurtz, Kirchengeschichte, § 99. MONASTICISM. 273 imbued with poetic sentiment and mystical ardor, he knew how to touch the emotive nature of the people with a master hand. At the same time he gave so large an exhibition of practical sagacity as naturally won re liance upou his leadership. Thus swaying at once the hearts of his contemporaries and commanding their judgment, he gained such an ascendency over his age as finds few parallels in history. Like other great lights of the Church, Bernard owed much to maternal tuition. His mother lived a life of ardent piety, and died with a psalm upon her lips. Each of her six sons was consecrated by her to the Lord from the hour of birth. Bernard, though not the oldest, was the first earnestly to espouse a life of re ligious devotion. About the time that he reached his majority he formed an inflexible purpose to enter the monastic life. His friends attempted to dissuade him from his design ; but Bernard was stronger than they, and at once gave evidence of that powerful personality which so often brought him the victory. Instead of yielding to their opposition, he turned his persuasions upon his friends, and actually induced all his brothers who were of sufficient age, as well as some other rela tives, to join him. As they left the feudal castle in the neighborhood of Dijon in France, which had been the home of their childhood, an incident occurred which showed how lightly their sacrifice might have been esteemed by the more earnest believers of that age. The youngest — a boy who still was accustomed to play with his companions on the street — being left behind, the eldest remarked to him in his farewell, " Behold, our entire estate now belongs to you." But the boy 18 274 THE MEDIAEVAL CHURCH. answered, " Thus heaven to you, and to me the earth ; that is no equal division." 1 In 1113 Bernard and his companions applied for ad mission to the cloister of Citeaux. Severe as was the rule of the Cistercians, it fell below Bernard's ambitions for self-discipline, and of his own accord he exceeded the requirements. His asceticism was carried to an ex treme which threatened the ruin of his health. He was not content with the Christian ideal of a sanctified manhood, but in the genuine spirit of monastic ex aggeration sought something above human nature. Ashamed of earthly needs and uses, he seemed anxious to give no place whatever to the body in his considera tion. Later he himself repented of the extreme to which he was led by youthful zeal. The injury done to his health, however, was not without its compensa tion. The contrast between his vigor of soul and the feebleness of his attenuated body greatly added to the impression which his presence made upon the men of his time. Bernard had not been long in the cloister before his superior sanctity and ability attracted attention. The monastic community at Citeaux became too numerous for the accommodations; a colony was therefore sent out ; a new cloister was founded at Clairvaux, and Bernard was chosen abbot, though but twenty-four years of age. As a superior over monks, Bernard exercised a real kingship of personal influence. He understood well the art of grappling with a refractory nature. The story is told of how he rescued a notorious criminal 1 Neander, Der heilige Bernhard und sein Zeitalter. MONASTICISM. 275 from those who were hurrying him to execution, took the blood-stained robber under his tuition, and con verted him into a humble and pious monk. If thus able to bend refractory material, it may be concluded that his supremacy was easily asserted over those who of their own accord elected him as their spiritual master, and from the outset were his admirers and almost wor shippers. Bernard showed, too, no little discretion as a Christian guide. If he was bound by the ascetic maxims of his age, he still knew how to mingle much of practical wisdom with their application. He was well aware of the danger of dwelling too exclusively upon one phase of truth or practice. Let labor and meditation, said he, succeed each other at proper inter vals. Like the sisters Martha and Mary, they should dwell together. "When one falls from the light of meditation, he guards against sinking into the darkness of sin and the torpor of idleness by abiding in the light of good works."1 As respects the ordering of meditations, he advised against the continuous pursuit of one line of reflection. " I exhort you," said he in one of his sermons, " to leave for a season the painful and anxious remembrance of your ways, to strike away into the softer parts of memory, and dwell upon the loving kindness of God, that you who are con founded in yourselves may recover by gazing on Him. I wish you to experience that which the holy prophet advised, saying, 'Delight thou in the Lord, and He shall give thee thy heart's desire.' Now grief over sin is necessary if it be not constant ; it must be broken by the more joyful remembrance of the Divine goodness, 1 Sermones in Cantica, li. 2. 276 THE MEDIJEVAL CHURCH. lest the heart grow hardened through sadness, and from despair perish more exceedingly." 1 Bernard, however zealously he may have been devoted to the monastic regime, did not lose the man in the monk. The strong native currents of feeling were not repressed by self-discipline. His inborn love of nature, for example, lost nothing of its enthusiasm in the clois tral life. " Trust to one," says he, " who has had ex perience. You will find something greater in the woods than in books. Trees and stones will teach you what 3Tou cannot learn from masters. Think you not that you can suck honey from the rock and oil from the flinty rock? Do not the mountains drop sweetness, the hills flow with milk and honey, and the valleys stand thick with corn? "2 In various relations the im pulses of an intense and affectionate heart gained full vent. Witness the strain which he indulged on the death of his brother Gerard : " He was my brother by blood, but more than brother by religion. I was weak in body, and he sustained me ; downcast in spirit, and he comforted me ; slow and negligent, and he stimu lated me. My soul clave to his, and identity of mind, not of blood, made us one. When we, therefore, were of one mind, one heart, the sword which pierced through his soul pierced mine also, and, separating us, placed one part in heaven and left the other in the mire of earth." 3 A similar glimpse into the heart of Bernard is furnished by various of his epistles to his friends. Thus he wrote to a young disciple who had been promoted to the posi tion of abbot : "As a mother loves her only son, even 1 Sermones in Cantica, xi. 2. 2 Epist. cvi. 8 Serm. in Cant., xxvi. MONASTICISM. 277 so did I love you, when you clave to my side, and re joiced my heart. And now I will love you when far from me, lest I should appear to have loved my own comfort in you, and not yourself." 1 To parents anx ious lest the monastic discipline should proise too se vere for their son he wrote : " I will be to him a father, a mother, a brother, and a sister. I will make the crooked straight for him, and the rough smooth. I will so temper and order all things for him, that he shall at once gain in spirit and not fail in body."2 To the members of his cloister he wrote : " Judge for your selves what my sufferings are. If my absence is pain ful to you, let no one doubt that it is more painful to me. For the loss you experience in my single absence is not to be compared with mine, when I am deprived of all of you. As many as there are of you, so many cares do I feel ; from each one I grieve to be separated ; for each do I fear dangers." 3 The Abbot of Clairveaux by no means confined him self to the narrow precincts of the cloister. The fame of his sanctity and the power of his address made him too efficient in great emergencies to allow of his remaining in seclusion. If bishops, nobles, princes, or popes had any arduous work to perform, Bernard was the necessary ally. Even those who were jealous of his fame were too deeply conscious of the utility of his aid to withhold long their summons. He responded according to his view of the cause, and with but little regard for the persons of men. At one time his friend, Count Theobald, had hastily and unjustly taken away 1 Morison, Life and Times of Saint Bernard. 2 Epist. ex. 3 Epist. cxliii. 278 THE MEDIEVAL CHURCH. the property of a vassal by the name of Humbert. Ber nard told the Count, that with what measure he had measured, he might expect that it would be measured to him again, and warned him that it would be far easier for God to disinherit him than it had been for him to rob Humbert of his estate.1 At another time, the territories of the same Count were being ravaged by the French King, Louis VII., because of the support which had been given by Theobald to certain obnoxious measures of the Pope. Bernard did not scruple to ren der a scathing rebuke to the monarch, as he broke truce and drew the sword. " Too quickly and rashly," said he, " you forsake the good and healthful counsel which you had received, and hasten, I know not by what devilish instigation, to renew the evils which you de servedly deplored in the presence of the freshly wrought misery and ruin. For from whom else than the devil should I say such a purpose proceeds as adds conflagra tion to conflagration, slaughter to slaughter, and makes the cry of the poor, the groans of the fettered, and the blood of the slain, to appeal unto Him who is the Father of orphans and a Judge for the widows." 2 Another conspicuous occasion for public activity was given by the schism in the papacy which occurred after the death of Honorius II. (1130). Two rival claimants — Innocent II. and Anacletus II. — appealed each to the obedience of Christendom. Bernard sided with the former. Largely through his influence the French and English governments decided to recognize Innocent as the lawful Pope. But the Count of Aqui- taine asserted the claim of Anacletus, and banished the 1 Epist. xxxvii. 2 Epist. ccxxi. MONASTICISM. 279 bishops opposing his decision. Bernard sought a per sonal interview with the Count, and soon prevailed upon him to acknowledge Innocent. At the same time he swore that he would not receive back the bishops, — the men who had so deeply offended him. Here was a challenge that called for a decisive answer. Bernard turned suddenly away, entered into the sanctuary, per formed the rite of consecration, and bearing forth the host, which the common faith of the age esteemed the very body of Christ, exclaimed to the Count with a voice of thunder: "We have beseeched you, and us you have despised ; an assembled multitude of God's servants have implored you, and them have you de spised. Behold the Virgin's Son, the Head and Lord of that Church which you persecute, comes toward you. Your Judge is here, at whose name every knee shall bow, whether in heaven, on earth, or in hell. Your Judge is here, into whose hand your soul will fall. Will you spurn Him also ? Will you despise Him as you have His servants ? " The appeal was overpowering. Trembling lest the instant judgment of Heaven should descend upon him, the Count fell to the earth. On recovering his senses, he agreed at once to receive back the banished bishops.1 A cause with such an advocate could hardly fail of success. In Italy as well as in France Bernard was a victorious cham pion, and finally had the satisfaction of seeing Innocent in the undisturbed possession of the chair of Peter.2 1 Morison. 2 Bernard's zeal in this controversy seems to have outrun his charity. The following are the terms in which he referred to the death of Ana cletus : "Ille, ille, iniquus qui peccare fecit Israel, morte absorptus est, 280 THE MEDIAEVAL CHURCH. It could hardly be expected that so powerful a ser vant of the Popes would stand in timid subservience to their will. In fact, the Abbot of Clairvaux appears quite as much an adviser and instructor of the Popes as a servant. His style of address is not without rev erence ; but great plainness is mixed with the rever ence. Observe his language to Innocent II. : " There is but one voice among those who exercise a faithful superintendence of the people ; and that declares that justice is perishing in the Church, that the power of the keys is annulled, that episcopal authority is brought low, since a bishop can no longer appear as an avenger of crimes, and no one is allowed to chastise iniquity even in his Own parish. What they ordain aright, you, as they say, abolish ; what they justly abolish, you es tablish. The flagitious and contentious among the peo ple, the clergy, or even the renegade monks, run to you, and on returning boast that they have obtained protectors, when they ought rather to have obtained an agent of vengeance on themselves. . . . Your friends are confounded, the faithful are insulted, the bishops everywhere are coming into shame and contempt ; and while their righteous judgments are despised, your own authority also suffers great injury." x Toward Pope Eugenius also Bernard assumed an attitude of great boldness and frankness. He declared that the Pope was demeaning his office when he gave so much atten tion to worldly business, and that he ought rather to et traductus in ventrem inferni. Fecerat quippe, secundum prophe- tam, pactum cum morte, et cum inferno foedus inierat (Isa. xxviii. 15 ) ; ideoque, juxta Ezechielem, factus est perditio, et non subsistit in seternum." 1 Epist. clxxviii. MONASTICISM. 281 count himself a shepherd of souls than a manipulator of the common earthly affairs which the impure ambi tions of men urged upon his attention.1 Looking back to the era of primitive simplicity, he exclaimed: "O that it were granted me, ere I die, to see the Church as it was in the ancient days, when the apostles let out their nets to enclose, not silver and gold, but souls. How do I desire that you may be heir to the voice of him whose seat you have obtained. ' Thy money,' he said, ' perish with thee.' O voice of thunder ! O voice of magnificence and might ! at the terror of which all who hate Sion are confounded and turned back." 2 The practical rather than the speculative was the supreme interest with Bernard. His talent fitted him for edifying the heart more than for quickening the intellect. He was one of the most eminent examples in mediaeval times of an ardent, subjective type of piety. He ranks with those mystics in whom a native good sense curbed the imagination, and turned the mind into the channel of devotion, instead of allowing the inward ardor to expend itself in the vagaries of theosophic dogmatism. He was not, indeed, opposed to speculation as such ; but his predominant interest in the practical made him jealous of its course. It must be strictly subordinated, as he contended, to the established faith. He looked upon the incoming of heresy as the preying of a wolf upon the flock of Christ. His principles, accordingly, as well as the summons of urgent voices, impelled him to an unsparing warfare against those charged with teaching error. Bernard enters here upon a field where we follow 1 De Consideratione. 2 Epist. ccxxxviii. 282 THE MEDIAEVAL CHURCH. him with a measure of reluctance. He was indeed in no way behind his age in point of tolerance. In his endeavor to protect the Jews from the bigoted and fanatical violence of the people, he showed a more than average humanity.1 But he had little charity for those who brought forward novelties of opinion, and considered it entirely proper to put them to silence. Hence his part, not to mention other instances, in securing the condemnation of Abelard, the most at tractive teacher and the most independent thinker of the twelfth century. Abelard's views had already been challenged, and he had suffered enough to break a spirit less elastic than his, when Bernard entered the lists against him. What now was the guilt of the great teacher and dia lectician, in the view of the devout monk ? His expo sition of certain individual doctrines was looked upon as erroneous ; still it was his spirit and method that were specially obnoxious. Bernard regarded Abelard as the representative of a daring, rationalistic specu lation, which, following its own bent, would inevitably lead far away from the simplicity of the faith and give over its most sacred mysteries to reckless and vulgar manipulation. " The faith of the simple," he writes in his complaint, " is brought to scorn, the secrets of God are torn open, questions respecting the highest subjects are discussed with reckless freedom, the fathers are insulted because they deemed that such things should be rather guarded from inspection than solved. So the human mind usurps dominion over everything, reserv ing nothing to faith. Attempting things too high and 1 Epist. ccclxiii., ccclxv. MONASTICISM. 283 too profound for its faculties, and rushing into the divine, it profanes sacred things, instead of disclosing them, and does not so much open the closed and the sealed as tear it asunder. Whatever it does not find penetrable to its understanding, it thinks of no account, and disdains to believe." x A spirit is begotten which refuses to see anything through a glass darkly, and presumptuously claims the prerogative to look upon all things face to face. Abelard had asserted the rights of free inquiry, had maintained that the faith which too readily accepts a tenet is superficial, that doubt, in so far as it leads to investigation, is the needful antecedent of genuine faith. He advocated the claims of criticism. To Bernard criticism of the sacred things of religion seemed akin to sacrilege. " The faith of the pious," says he, " be lieves, and dissects not. But this man, to whom God Himself is a suspicious witness, will believe nothing unless he has previously dissected the subject with the reason. And while the prophet says, ' Unless ye believe ye shall not understand,' he on the other hand scouts a voluntary faith as levity." 2 Charging his opponent with robbing faith of all certitude, Bernard exclaims : " B ut God forbid that we should think as he does, that there is anything in our faith or hope which hangs on a doubtful opinion. Rather let us hold that the whole of it is grounded on certain, solid truth, inculcated divinely by oracles and miracles, established and conse crated by the child-birth of the Virgin, by the blood of 1 Epist. clxxxviii. Compare Epist. cxci., cxcii., cxciii., cccxxxii., cccxxxvi. 2 Epist. cccxxxviii. 284 THE MEDIAEVAL CHURCH. the Redeemer, by the glory of the resurrection. These testimonies have been made too credible to allow of doubt. And if they fail in any measure, the Spirit it self bears witness with our spirit that we are the sons of God. How then shall one dare to call faith opinion, except he who has not yet received that Spirit, who knows not the Gospel or counts it a fable ? * I know whom I have believed, and am certain,' exclaims the apostle; and you whisper to me, 'Faith is opinion.' You prate to me about the ambiguity of that than which nothing can be more certain." ] Bernard in this does injustice; for Abelard never meant to identify faith in its maturity with mere opin ion. The champion of orthodoxy was quite too head long in his polemic. Still his language may serve to indicate an important difference in the standpoint of the two men. Abelard was inclined to say, Investigate first, and believe afterwards. Bernard said, ' Believe at once, and the power of this faith will bring the truth within the certain grasp of the soul. Each had truth on his side ; neither had the whole truth. If Abelard allowed too little to that humble, trustful spirit which becomes a medium of divine enlightenment, Ber nard conceded too little to that critical temper which puts the mind on guard against the passive acceptance of error. But whatever the merits of the controversy, Bernard was too influential with the authorities not to gain his cause ; and the highest grace awaiting his humbled and heart-broken rival was the privilege of spending his last days in the quiet of the renowned cloister of Cluny. 1 Tractatus de Erroribus Abaelardi, cap. iv. MONASTICISM. 285 One of the last of the great enterprises in which Bernard engaged was the preaching of the second cru sade. Here he found a theatre of activity pre-eminently suited to his talents. Thousands took the cross in an swer to his appeals in France and Germany. Many, it is stated, who could not understand one word of what he said, were moved to tears by his tone and appear ance. The German Emperor, Conrad, though stub bornly opposed to the crusade at first, could not resist the words of its eloquent advocate. In the popular belief, miracles also came in to sanction the cause, and a multitude of instances are reported in which the saintly monk is said to have cured the sick and the infirm. Bernard himself, while he cautions against the overvaluation of miracles or of their agent, allows that such were wrought by his hands, or in answer to his prayers. His sincerity in this matter ought in no wise to be called in question. At the same time, it is but right to judge of the facts in the light of mediaeval credulity, and with due reference to the marvellous power which an enthusiastic faith natu rally commands over certain forms of bodily distem per. The preaching of the crusade was an eminent success ; but the crusade itself was a miserable fail ure. Some were disposed to severe criticism of the preacher who had talked with such assurance of vic tory. Bernard bore the opprobrium with great calm ness. While, on the one hand, he called attention to the fact that God's judgments are apt to be inscru table, he suggested, on the other, that an explanation of failure might be found in the sins and follies of the crusaders. Their conduct, like that of the Israel- 286 THE MEDIAEVAL CHURCH. ites who started for Canaan, had nullified the words of promise.1 Death came to Bernard, in 1153, as a most welcome guest. Only twenty years elapsed before the authority of the Church enrolled him in the list of saints. The canonizing sentence but gave expression to the sponta neous verdict of the age ; and later times can sympa thize in a measure with that verdict. No doubt, faults can be found in the life of Saint Bernard. His strong nature occasionally inclined him to an over-positive and arbitrary course. But he had great and lustrous vir tues. The humility with which he prostrated self be fore God rests like a halo upon a man of such strength and popularity. As has been testified by his familiar friends, he walked amid the plaudits and praises of men as one in a dream. No false elation came from earthly successes. His most ardent desires reached toward higher things. With strong aspirings his heart went out after God, and delighted above all things in fellowship with Him. " The soul," says he, " which once has received from the Lord the art and the dispo sition to retire into itself, and in its inmost depths to sigh after the presence of God, and to seek ever His face, — I know not whether such a soul would consider it a greater punishment to endure for a season the pains of hell, than to turn back after it has tasted the blessed ness of such a spiritual life to the pleasures, or rather the pains, of the flesh." 2 Morison, in his interesting biography of Bernard, speaks thus of a resemblance between him and Luther : 1 De Consideratione. 2 Neander, Der heilige Bernhard, p. 59. MONASTICISM. 287 " To any one who can look below the surface, to any one who can see through the varying costume which each successive age throws over the deeper character istics of human nature, there will appear much in the Abbot of Clairvaux to remind of the Saxon Reformer : the same vehemence, not to say hastiness of temper ; the same fearless disregard of consequences in de nouncing falsehood and sin ; the same dauntless cour age ; the same humility and gentleness, under all their divine wrath." II. — THE MENDICANT ORDERS. By this title our attention is turned to two great fraternities which became powerful factors in the me diaeval Church. There were indeed more than two mendicant orders. The Carmelites, founded on Mount Carmel by Berthold of Calabria, near the middle of the twelfth century, took the mendicant constitution after their transference to the West in the next century. The Augustines and the Servites, organized in the middle portion of the thirteenth century, were also mendicant orders. But the relative prominence of the Franciscans1 and Dominicans2 was so great, that the term became pre-eminently a designation of these two fraternities. Like other great movements, the rise of the mendi cant orders was due to something more than individual eccentricities. They met certain urgent demands of the age, — the call on the part of a large class of peo ple for teachers of an unworldly mien, and the need of 1 Called originally Fratres Minores. 2 Fratres Pradicatores. 288 THE MEDIMVAL CHURCH. more earnest and frequent preaching. At the same time, individual eccentricity or genius had not a little to do with the rise of these orders. The founders were men of marked individuality, well fitted to draw oth ers to themselves, and to leave upon them their own impress. Francis of Assisi, from whom the Franciscans took their name, was born in 1182. The indulged son of a well to do merchant, he gave himself freely to the in toxication of worldly pleasures till he had reached the age of early manhood. No promise of his future career had as yet appeared, unless it might be found in the imaginative temper and generous impulses of the gay reveller. But sickness induced thoughtfulness, and by the radical transition agreeable to such ardent natures he passed to an extreme renunciation of the world. What came into his hand speedily passed out in alms. On one occasion his love of giving so mastered his sense of legal right, that he offered in benefactions all the proceeds which he had collected from selling a roll of his father's goods. The enraged father complained of the prodigality of his son, and brought him before the bishop to enforce the demand for reimbursement. Francis not only agreed to the demand, but, stripping himself naked, gave back the very clothes which he was wearing. Henceforth poverty was his beloved bride, the most wretched and degraded of men the objects of his peculiar sympathy and care. Lepers and beggars received his choicest attentions. Assailed with revilings, he reviled not again. Taunts and insinua tions of insanity left no bitterness in his humble and gentle mind. With imperturbable good nature he bore MONASTICISM. 289 every affront, conquering opposition with such effective weapons as patience, sympathy, and self-abnegation. His peculiar dower might be described as a loving sym pathy. The full tide of his good will poured itself forth upon alloDjects. .turds, beasts, ana even inani mate things, were reckoned by his sensitive heart within the circle of fellowship, and betimes were honored with the name of brothers and sisters. " That which irre sistibly attracts us to this man," says Hagenbach, " in spite of his extravagance and his mistake in the choice of means, is the loving compassion which lay at the basis of all his doing and striving. It is the same com passion which meets us later in a Wesley, a Francke, a Pestalozzi, an Oberlin, a Miss Fry, an Amalie Sieve- king, a Florence Nightingale, and in all the men and women who in different times and ways have taken up the cause of perishing, indigent, neglected humanity." x Total renunciation of the world — all its display, riches, and diversions — and active benevolence were the watchwords of Francis. In his estimate, practical usefulness took precedence of contemplation. Theo logical learning was relegated to a subordinate place. Mystical devotion going hand in hand with incessant activity, was his ideal of Christian service. His piety was of the heart, rather than of the head, and the plowing visions of the imagination were more to him than logical discrimination. Among all the themes of religion, Francis dwelt with most passionate ardor upon that of Christ crucified. A pious man, it is said, once found him sighing and weep ing. Supposing him to be suffering from some grievous 1 Kirchengeschichte, Band ii. Vorlesung xxi. 19 290 THE MEDIAEVAL CHURCH. bodily affliction, he asked him why he wept. " I weep," replied Francis, " for the suffering of my Lord Jesus Christ ; in consideration of which I am not ashamed to go weeping aloud through the whole world." 1 From such a spirit a contagious influence naturally went forth. Disciples began to gather. In 1209 Inno cent III. was asked to approve the new order. The answer, if not a positive sanction, gave Francis at least a negative permission to go forward in his project. In 1223 the rule of the order was elaborated, and Honorius III. gave it his approbation. Several years before this, Francis had instituted an order of nuns, called from the first abbess the order of Saint Clara.2 Ridicule had now given place to admiration. The apostle of poverty was greeted with a veneration which was in no wise careful to stop short of worship. His biographer, Thomas of Celano, says : " So great was the confidence of men and women, so great their de votion toward the saint of God, that he counted himself happy who was but able to touch his garment. As he approached a city, the clergy, the townsmen and the women gave vent to their joy, the youth shouted their plaudits, and often went forth to meet him playing upon instruments of music and bearing branches of trees." 3 Francis died in 1226. Two years later came the decree of canonization. As an object of popular idolatry, he could not well escape a reputation for miracles. In fact, he had not been long in his grave 1 Karl Hase, Franz von Assisi. 2 Primarily, Ordo Dominarum Pauperum. 8 Quoted by Gieseler, Kirchengeschichte, § 68. MONASTICISM. 291 when the industry of the legend-monger had enriched, or rather deformed, the story of his life with a multi tude of marvels. In the " Liber Conformitatum," writ ten by Bartholomew of Pisa in the fourteenth century, forty points of comparison between Francis and Christ are enumerated, and such items of superior glory in the record of the former are noted as that he was trans figured twenty times instead of once, and, in place of suffering for a short interval, bore the wounds of cru cifixion for two years. Bartholomew's book was ap proved by the General Chapter of the order, though, if they had wished to challenge its enormous fictions, they had only to refer to the three biographies written within forty years of the death of Francis.1 As these were composed in the spirit of an ardent hero-worship, they may be presumed to have neglected no authentic materials of glorification. Hase renders the following verdict on the subject : " Where miracles are narrated of Francis which unmistakably contradict the divinely appointed laws of nature, trustworthy historical tradi tion is wanting, as is the case with all the miracles in the Liber Conformitatum, which are made to bear away the palm from the marvellous doings of Christ. To be sure, we read in the account of Bonaventura, that a blind person at Assisi, whose eyes had been put out in punishment for theft, had eyes restored to him, only somewhat smaller than the original, within three days of the time that he approached the altar of the saint and invoked his help ; and that this had been sworn to by a knight and a monk. However, the 1 Those by Thomas of Celano, the Tres Socii, and Bonaventura. 292 THE MEDIAEVAL CHURCH. whole story was first smuggled into the work of Bona ventura after his death." The miracle which above all others was claimed to ' establish the peculiar glory of Francis was the miracle of the stigmata, — the marks upon hands, feet, and side, analogous to those on the person of the Redeemer. The wounds, it was said, were impressed upon his body immediately after he had seen a vision of a seraph, be tween whose wings was discerned the form of a cruci fied man. This occurred two years before the death of the saint, but his carefulness to conceal the singular honor prevented it from being very largely observed till after his decease. That the wounds were found at least upon the dead body of Francis, seems to be quite strongly attested. How they came there, whether as the result of the mind's reaction upon a peculiarly sensitive organism, of self-mutilation in a species of ecstasy or mental aberration, or of pious fraud, is a question that is still open to speculation.1 Dominic, the founder of the rival order, was born of Spanish parents in Old Castile, in 1170. At the age of fifteen he commenced to study at the University of Palencia in Leon. A memorial of his student life is preserved in the story of the humane zeal which prompted him to sell his books that he might con tribute the more to those suffering from famine. " How can I study," said he, " from dry parchments, when there are human beings dying of hunger ? " 2 After spending ten years at the university, in response to the 1 See Hase's discussion of the subject. 2 Lacordaire, Life of Saint Dominic ; translation by Mrs. Edward Hazeland. MONASTICISM. 293 wish of the Bishop of Osma, he joined his chapter of canons-regular. In 1203 a new field of activity was opened to him, as, journeying on an embassy with the Bishop of Osma, he had occasion to observe the serious spread of heresy in the southern part of France. The devout and sagaeious bishop saw that heretics who made so much of evangelical poverty were not likely to be converted by the methods of the papal legates, who travelled in state through the country. The appeal to such men, as he maintained, must be commended by the humble and self-denying appearance of the agent. At his earliest opportunity, he put his ideas into prac tice, journeying together with Dominic through the land, and endeavoring by earnest preaching, disputa tion, and conversation to win the people back to the Catholic faith. The death of the Bishop of Osma soon left Dominic with the chief responsibility in the work which had been inaugurated. Meanwhile other weapons than the persuasions of the preacher were summoned against the heretics. The swords of Simon de Montfort and the fierce crusaders who followed his standard commenced the work of extermination. Dominic remained upon the field, but in what relation to the severities prac tised is not clearly revealed. Some have concluded that he was a pattern of mercy. Others have blamed or applauded him as bearing in his bosom the spirit of a grand-inquisitor, and as anticipating the cruel meth ods of the dread tribunal. The more probable verdict is, that he neither opposed severe measures nor took a conspicuous part in their execution. No example of extraordinary rigor in their founder was needed to 294 THE MEDIJEVAL CHURCH. prepare the Dominicans for their mission of unsparing warfare against heresy. The fact that the defence and propagation of the orthodox faith were made from the outset a special feature in their vocation naturally tended toward that proficiency in heresy-hunting, and that zest for repressive measures, which made them the fittest agents of the Inquisition. Still, the inflexible zeal of a Dominic lay much nearer to the arts of a per secutor than the irrepressible sympathy of a Francis. There is a measure of truth in the following contrast, which is drawn by Hagenbach : " Both belong to South ern Europe, to the Romanic world ; but in the veins of the one courses the blood of the earnest methodical Spaniard, in the other that of the emotional Italian. Both are strict devotees, and capable of the greatest sacrifice ; but out of the features of Dominic speaks the imposing rigor of an inquisitor, out of those of Francis the heart-subduing passion of one who makes a pastime of self-renunciation. Dominic was of a hie rarchical, Francis of a poetical nature ; the one dispo sition could degenerate into a destroying tyranny over men's faith, the other into sectarianism and cynic rude ness and eccentricity. The fire which burned in Dom inic, although at the beginning a fire of love, reminds in its farther spread all too much of the pyres which the Church prepared for the heretics ; in connection with Francis, from beginning to end we think of a flaming heart, which consumes itself in an enthusi astic, never-satisfied love, which, even if it is pushed beyond the point of nature, does not deny its noble origin." * 1 Band ii. Vorlesung xx. MONASTICISM. 295 The humble style and the devout zeal with which Dominic conducted his ministry are thus pictured by Lacordaire: "He travelled on foot, a staff in his hand, and a bundle of clothes upon his shoulder. On ap proaching a town or village he would put on his shoes, keeping them on until he had passed through. He carried no money with him, leaving himself to the mercy of his fellow-creatures and of Providence. Sometimes he begged his bread from door to door, always humbly thanking the donors, occasionally even on his knees. He slept on straw or on a plank, and without undressing. He never entered any house as guest without first praying in a church, if one was to be found in that locality. After finishing his repast, he withdrew to a room in order to read St. Matthew's Gospel and Saint Paul's Epistles, which he always car ried with him. After sitting down, he opened his book, made the sign of the cross, and began to read atten- 1 tively. So enraptured was he by the Divine Word that he appeared beside himself ; gesticulated as if holding converse with some one ; then appeared to be listen ing, arguing, and contending ; alternately laughed and wept ; then after gazing intently would cast down his eyes, soliloquize, and strike his breast. From reading he passed to prayer, from meditation to contemplation, at times lovingly kissing the book, as if grateful to it for the happiness it conferred. . . . He preached to all whom he met in the roads, towns, villages, chateaux, and monasteries." Dominic's first institute was a cloister for women at Prouille. In 1215 the Pope gave his assent to the proposition to found an order of preaching friars, only 296 THE MEDIEVAL CHURCH. requiring Dominic to choose some established rule.1 The rule chosen was that of St. Augustine, as being very general in its nature, and allowing of much option in details. Honorius confirmed the order in 1216, and granted some special privileges. The mendicant con stitution was not formally adopted at the start. First in 1220 the General Chapter voted the renunciation of all property. The death of Dominic occurred in the following year, and in 1233 sentence of canonization was passed. The two mendicant orders were much the same in constitution and methods. Each had its general, as supreme executive, its assembly of delegates meeting at stated intervals, its provincials or superintendents of provinces, and its priors or guardians, who presided over single congregations of the fraternity. Each had also its lay branch, or Tertiaries, as they were called. The men and women who were enrolled in this con tinued to live in relations of marriage and ordinary business, only engaging to dress with becoming plain ness, to avoid distracting and questionable amusements, to employ themselves in devotions, and to practise fasting as their condition might allow. As a means of extending the influence of the mendicant orders, the lay branch was of great importance. Speaking of the Franciscan Tertiaries, Hase remarks : " This third order, for which every chamber might become a cell and every house a cloister, had an immeasurable exten- 1 It is said that Innocent was moved to grant the request for the new order by a vision, in which he saw Dominic supporting with outstretched hands the falling Lateran church. (Ptolemaeus Lucensis, Hist. Eccl., xxi. 17.) MONASTICISM. 297 sion, from the royal pair down to the masses. But it was especially the middle rank of citizens that supplied recruits by the thousand and the hundred thousand ; and with good reason, since the order gave to it security against the powerful of this world, as well as promise of the heavenly riches." In their design, the Franciscans and Dominicans both exhibited a noteworthy departure from the primitive idea of monasticism. Their leading aim was not private edification, the salvation of the individual monk by iso lation from a corrupt and tempting world. It was rather activity in the world, — constant activity in the midst of the very world which was renounced, even to the point of beggary. They were to overrun the world with a preaching fraternity. In the first instance, the Dominicans contemplated especially preaching to heretics ; the Franciscans, preaching to the Moham medans. But so great was the need of Catholic Chris tendom itself in this regard, that they at once broke through the limits of their special fields. Every region was traversed by their itinerant ministry. Earnest bishops welcomed them as far more competent than the parish priests to edify and stimulate the people. The Popes saw in them effective agents for sustaining their own supremacy, and accordingly gave them ample free dom of action, releasing them in large measure from episcopal authority, and guaranteeing them the right to preach and to hear confessions wherever they might come. This excess of influence and prerogative naturally had a double effect. On the one hand, it provoked the jealousy of the secular priests, and also of other 298 THE MEDIAEVAL CHURCH. classes of monks, who were compelled to see themselves so largely supplanted by these intruders. On the other hand, it tended to arrogance and corruption in the orders themselves. As an example of the complaints which began to be urged against them, we may take the severe language of Matthew Paris. He charges them with having degenerated more in forty years than orders previously established had in three or four hun dred years. " These are they," he says, " who in their sumptuous edifices, which they daily enlarge, and within their high walls, lay up incalculable treasures, impu dently transgressing the injunction of poverty and the fundamental rule of their own profession, even as was prophesied by the German Hildegard. To the injury and loss of the ordinary pastors, they thrust themselves upon the great and the wealthy in the hour of death, greedy for a share of their abundant riches, extorting confessions and secret testaments, commending only themselves and their order, and claiming superiority to all others. Hence no one of the faithful now believes that he can be saved, unless he is under the guidance of the Preachers and the Minorites. In their anxiety to acquire privileges, they serve in the courts of kings and nobles as counsellors, chamberlains, treasurers, bridesmen, notaries of marriages, and agents of papal extortions. In their sermons they indulge at one time in flattery, at another in biting censure ; they reveal the secrets of the confessional, and run into reckless accusation." x In another connection the same writer speaks of the elation of the Dominicans over privileges recently i Sub anno 1243. MONASTICISM. 299 granted by the Pope, and pictures the arts by which they sought a monopoly in the hearing of confessions. " They proceeded," he says, " to ask any one they met, ' Hast thou confessed ? ' A reply being given in the affirmative, the inquiry was, ' To whom ? ' The person answering, ' To my own priest,' it was rejoined, ' And who is that ignorant fellow ? He has never heard lec tures on theology, never studied the decrees, never learned to solve a question. They are blind, and leaders of the blind. Come to us, who know how to distinguish one phase of the soul's sickness from another, to whom things arduous and difficult, to whom the secrets of God, are made manifest.' " Many, it is added, were eaught by such artifices, and confessed to the Domin ican friars, to the neglect of their own priests, and the injury of the general order and discipline of the Church.1 Umbrage was taken, in particular, at the attempt of the Mendicants to gain a controlling position in the universities. At Paris a determined resistance was maintained, under the leadership of William of St. Amour. But the aggression of the Mendicants was backed by a cause not easy to resist. To say nothing of the support afforded by various of the Popes, they had the power and prestige of superior learning. The unrivalled theologians and scholastic philosophers came from their ranks, the Dominicans boasting of such masters as Albertus Magnus and Thomas Aquinas, and the Franciscans glorying in an Alexander Hales, a Bonaventura, and a Duns Scotus. While becoming thus objects of jealousy to many 1 Sub anno 1246. 300 THE MEDIAEVAL CHURCH. outsiders, the two orders were at the same time envious rivals of each other. One source of the fictitious mira cles which found place in their annals was undoubtedly the desire of each to prove its title to a superior glory. The temper of the Franciscans naturally gave them a certain advantage in the race for popularity. Their tone was freer, their piety more emotional and mystical, than that of the Dominicans, who were the champions of the rigid orthodoxy of the Church. But this advan tage had its offsets. The freer spirit and the mystical vein in the Franciscans gave a wider scope to vagaries in opinion and conduct, and so increased the liabilities of division. Both orders soon found it extremely difficult to adhere strictly to mendicancy. An impracticable standard had, in truth, been adopted. The Dominicans virtually con fessed as much, and explained their vow of poverty as denoting only that the individual could have no pos sessions. The fraternity, it was agreed, could hold property for the common use of its members. The Franciscans found greater difficulty in uniting upon a mitigation of their rule. One party, dating back even to the time of Francis, favored a measure of relaxation. Another party insisted upon keeping the vow of poverty in all strictness. The uncompromising opposition of the latter against tendencies to laxity led to various schisms, and the history is made complicated by such names as Caesarins, Celestines, Spirituals, and Frati- celli. In some cases the schism did not stop with the mere separation from the order. The Fraticelli, for example, were denounced as heretics, and regarded as outside of the Catholic fellowship. They seem to have MONASTICISM. 301 borrowed from Joachim of Floris, and held such enthu siastic notions respecting the age of the Holy Spirit as came to expression in the " Introduction to the Ever lasting Gospel," a book condemned by the Pope in 1254. As it seemed to be impossible to compose the differences among the Franciscans, the authorities finally concluded to recognize different branches of the fra ternity. The more rigid party was recognized by the Council of Constance as brethren of the stricter ob servance. They were called accordingly Observants. Those representing the laxer scheme were designated Conventuals. Since the early part of the sixteenth century, the Franciscan fraternity has appeared in three divisions, the Observants, the Conventuals, and the Capuchins. In the thirteenth century, the semi-monastic socie ties of the Beguines and Beghards — the former being composed of women and the latter of men — appeared in close association with the Franciscan sectaries. In some instances they entered into the relation of Ter tiaries to the latter. They are supposed to have origi nated in the preceding centurj'. The fact that they became a refuge for those adjudged heretics brought the hand of persecution against them, and many of their houses were suppressed.1 1 At one time the church authorities made but moderate distinction between these associations and such decided heretics as the Sect of the Free Spirit (see next chapter). But it is concluded that this was an injustice ; that, while there was an outcropping of enthusiasm among the Beghards and Beguines, they did not share largely in the peculiar tenets of the Sect of the Free Spirit. (Hermann Haupt, Beitrage zur Geschichte der Sekte von freien Geiste und des Beghardentums, Zeitschrift fur Kirchengeschichte, 1884-85.) CHAPTER V. SCHOLASTICISM AND MYSTICISM. THE same era which witnessed the culmination of bhe papal theocracy witnessed also the culmina tion of scholasticism. The thirteenth century was for popes and schoolmen alike the golden age. Alongside the imposing edifice of ecclesiastical sovereignty stood an equally massive and imposing edifice of ecclesiastical learning. As mutually supporting fortresses they held the field for the established polity and faith. Ecclesi astical authority may, indeed, have exhibited some jealousy toward its neighbor. For example, it looked with a measure of distrust, in the first instance, upon the alliance between theological thinking and Aristote- lianism, as this became prominent in the early part of the thirteenth century. But in general mutual friend liness was maintained. Scholasticism purchased for itself tolerance and patronage by sustaining the hie rarchical system in its full length and breadth. Its most renowned representatives defined papal preroga tives in terms which a Gregory VII. could hardly have wished to amend ; and left as little territory to the heretic as was conceded by the decrees of an Inno cent III. Scholasticism is but another name for the mediaeval system of dogmatics. It was the product of zeal for SCHOLASTICISM AND MYSTICISM. 303 the Catholic faith, combined with that species of mania for logical studies which seized upon the mind of Europe, and dominated her principal schools, in the twelfth, thirteenth, and fourteenth centuries. The scholastic doctors had a great ambition to formulate the doctrines of the Church, to arrange them into an elaborate system, to discuss and to defend them at every point. They were not original investigators in the more positive sense of the term. Very little was done by them in the way either of Biblical or historical criticism. Their task was not to test the established faith, but rather to state it and to bring forward argu ments in its behalf. This task they executed with marvellous industry. Not content to treat simply the more salient points of a theme, they taxed their in genuity to deal with all the questions which could in any way be brought into relation to the subject in hand. The result was such ponderous tomes that the modern investigator finds his courage severely tried by the requirement to look into their contents. As to the merit of these elaborate works, it must be allowed that they contain not a little of profound and acute disqui sition, and that in general they are very creditable to the intellectual vigor of their authors. At the same time, their worth is seriously abridged by the easy as sumption of premises which lay at the foundation of scholasticism. In default of a critical examination at the starting point, an extended process of reasoning is often made to contribute no more substantial result than a simple display of mental gymnastics. John Scotus Erigena, in the ninth century, anticipated in a measure the methods of scholasticism. His daring 304 THE MEDIAEVAL CHURCH. speculation, however, paid less tribute to traditional dogmas than was rendered by the system in general. The succession in the stricter sense was begun by Anselm, who won the veneration of his age both as scholar and saint. The happier part of his life was spent in the cloister of Bee, where as prior, and then as abbot, he exercised a gentle but most effective sway over the minds and hearts of his monastic brethren. As the successor of Lanfranc on the archiepiscopal throne of Canterbury, he experienced much crucifixion by reason of his conscientious opposition to royal de mands. In his thinking he was bold and subtle within the limits of the traditional faith. On two subjects in particular — the proof of the Divine existence and the atonement — his speculations have had a marked in fluence. Anselm closed his career in the early part of the twelfth century. By the middle of this centurj^ scho lasticism had obtained one of its chief models in Peter Lombard's " Four Books of Sentences." In the next century, and the first years of the following, it reached its culmination in the massive works of Alexander Hales, Albertus Magnus, Thomas Aquinas, Bonaven tura, and Duns Scotus. Among the later representa tives, a conspicuous place was held by Durandus and Occam. The universities which served as the citadels of scho lasticism date from the end of the twelfth and the early part of the thirteenth century.1 1 See Heinrich Denifle, Die Entstehung der Universitaten des Mittel- alters ; S. S. Laurie, Lectures on the Rise and Early Constitutions of Universities. SCHOLASTICISM AND MYSTICISM. 305 While an intellectual formalism was being developed in scholasticism, there were those who looked to other means for laying hold upon truth, who believed that the highest point of vision is to be gained, not by dis cursive reasoning, but on the wings of faith and love. The upward flight of the soul in the rapture of devo tion brings, as they conceived, a better knowledge of divine things than any mere intellectual industry or acumen is able to reach. The deepest truths are open only to intuition, and intuition is the function of a puri fied heart, in which selfhood has been consumed by the flame of a boundless love. Such in its better aspect was mediaeval mysticism. It asserted the claims of the heart over against those of the head. While scho lasticism was engrossed with the task of giving due proportion and solidity to the walls of the temple, mys ticism deemed the altar fires and the irradiating pres ence of the responsive Deity the matters of principal concern. In quite a large proportion of instances mysticism stood in friendly relations with scholasticism. Some of the more distinguished exponents of the former were at the same time representatives of the latter ; in other words, they wrote scholastic treatises after the model of the current dogmatics, as well as those designed to commend the mystical theology. But there were others who stepped aside from the current theology and ran into both speculative and practical aberrations. We have accordingly to deal with mysticism in two main types, a heterodox and an orthodox. A pantheistic conception lay at the basis of much of the heterodox mysticism. The ardor with which it 20 306 THE MEDIAEVAL CHURCH. pressed the thought of the union of the human and the divine urged beyond the notion of simple union into that of substantial identity. This appears to have been the case with Amalrich of Bena, a master of theology at Paris about the year 1200. Three sentences of his indicate his standpoint: (1) "God is all things," — Deus est omnia. (2) " Every one is bound to believe that he is a member of Christ, nor can one be saved who does not believe this, any more than one who does not believe the birth and suffering of Christ and the other articles of faith." (3) "To those who have entered into the state of love, no sin is imputed."1 Amalrich was probably much influenced by the writings of Erigena. Indeed, the condemnation of Erigena's principal work in 1225 may be imputed to the con nection which was supposed to subsist between it and the new heresy. An evidence that Amalrich was cau tious about giving public expression to his more radical views is seen in the fact that we read only of his second proposition being made during his life an occasion of open complaint. He died in the communion of the- Church, having been previously subjected, however, to the humiliation of a recantation, in answer to the de cision of Innocent III. The views of Amalrich served as the basis for an association or sect. A few years after his death, it was found that several of the French bishoprics had been invaded by his disciples. The authorities were aroused, a search was made, and by means of the disclosures of a pretended adherent a number were identified as mem bers of the sect. The Synod of Paris in 1209 or 1210 1 Quoted by Wilhelm Preger, Geschichte der deutschen Mystik. SCHOLASTICISM AND MYSTICISM. 307 condemned nine of them to the flames, and gave or ders that the bones of Amalrich should be cast out of consecrated ground. The teachings of this sect, judging from the repre sentations made, were characterized by an undisguised pantheism and an ultra spiritualism. In place of the Catholic doctrine of the Trinity and the incarnation, they taught a succession of divine manifestations and incarnations, God being revealed as Father through His incarnation in Abraham, as Son through His incar nation in Mary, as Holy Spirit through His incarna tion in themselves. As having the Spirit, they thought themselves above the need of external rites and the obligation of written laws. Spiritual birth was regarded as a substitute for baptism, and spiritual resurrection as a substitute for the raising of the body from the dead. Views substantially identical with those described were taught later in the century, as also in the following century, by those who were denominated the Sect of the New Spirit, or the Sect of the Free Spirit. Very likely these names indicate, not an entirely distinct company of sectaries, but rather that which sprang from Amalrich, and which may be supposed to have survived the onslaught of the persecutor, and to have spread into various quarters. Contemporary with Amalrich there were other rep resentatives of a heterodox mysticism. The same synod of 1209, which passed sentence against him, condemned also a writing of David of Dinanto. The pantheistic standpoint of David is seen in his proposition that God is the material principle of existence, the common sub stratum of all things, or that which is reached when 308 THE MEDIAEVAL CHURCH. subtraction is made of the distinguishing features of individuals. From this point of view, he drew a pe culiar inference respecting the conditions of knowing God. Knowledge, as he taught, implies an assimilation between the knowing and the known. The soul, as having form, knows that which has form by virtue of community with it; it knows things by abstracting their form and appropriating it to itself. But God is without form. There is accordingly no opportunity to abstract from Him. The soul can come into community with Him, and so know Him, only by renouncing its particular form, and sinking back into the formless essence which is identical with God.1 Here we have a view which entered not a little into the speculative mysticism of later times. A species of mysticism less remote from orthodoxy had its starting point in another teacher of this era, the Abbot Joachim, who died in 1201 or 1202. Joachim was evidently a man of fervid piety, who saw with open eyes the corruptions of the Church, and was filled with intense longings for its reformation. As a burning desire easily becomes the parent of expectation, so was it in his case. He apprehended that the Church had come to the verge of a new era ; that having witnessed the age of the Father in the old dispensation, and that of the Son in the establishment of the Christian dis pensation, it was now to enter upon the final age, the golden era of the Holy Spirit's reign. In the ushering in of this better time, a conspicuous part was to be taken by a purified monasticism, a monasticism in which the outward crucifixion was to be only an index of the self- 1 Preger's exposition. SCHOLASTICISM AND MYSTICISM. 309 renunciation abiding within. The teachings of Joachim were transmitted in particular by three writings, the " Commentary on the Apocalypse," the " Concordance of the Old and the New Testament," and the " Psaltery of Ten Strings." These writings are to be understood as constituting the "Eternal Gospel" which came to be associated with the name of Joachim.1 From this source, as previously noticed, the zealots for the vow of absolute poverty among the Franciscans drew largely. Among mystics of unchallenged orthodoxy were numbered such celebrated men as Bernard of Clair vaux, Hugo of St. Victor, Richard of St. Victor, and Bonaventura. Bernard describes in different ways the steps which lead up to God. In one instance he specifies three species of consideration {consideration , or modes in which the mind may apply itself: the dispensative, in pursuance of which the senses and the things of sense are employed in the orderly and useful manner that is esteemed well pleasing to God ; the estimative, in which one carefully scrutinizes and ponders the various objects that are presented, in order by their means to arrive at a knowledge of God ; the speculative, in which the mind gathers up its powers, leaves earthly things behind, and rises by the help of divine grace to the contemplation of God.2 In another instance he speaks of opinion, faith, and knowledge as three ways of 1 So by Gerhard, the Franciscan monk, who wrote, in 1254, the "Introduction to the Eternal Gospel." Joachim himself, who borrowed the term from Rev. xiv. 6, probably used it to denote the spiritual sense of Christ's gospel, and not any specific writing. 2 De Consideratione, v. 2. 310 THE MEDIAEVAL CHURCH. approaching divine things. The first rests on sem blance, the second on authority, and the third on rea son. The first gives no certainty. The second gives a sure grasp of truth, but not definiteness of insight. The third possesses the truth unveiled and clearly man ifest.1 Here, as in the previous instance, the goal is the intuitive vision of God, but the preceding stages are not to be understood as being parallel. What Bernard describes as the dispensative and the estimative consid eration he did not regard as competent, apart from the aid of faith, to lead farther than the stage of varying opinion. Finally, Bernard specifies four different stages of love, the last and highest of which he esteemed the in dispensable and direct antecedent of the beatific vision. Beginning with a simple love of self, man is taught by sense of need to turn erelong to God, and to love Him for the help and blessing which He bestows. By communion with God he learns, in a third stage of advancement, to love Him for His own sake. In the fourth stage he is so swallowed up in God that he loves himself only for the sake of God. Concerning this stage Bernard exclaims : " To be thus affected is to be deified. As a drop of water mixed with a quan tity of wine seems to lose itself, while it takes the taste and color of the wine, as the ignited and glowing iron becomes most like to fire, as air pervaded by the light of the sun is transformed into a luminous ex panse, and made to seem not merely to be illuminated, but to be light itself, so then all human affection in the saints will melt away in a certain ineffable mode, and be wholly transfused into the will of God. Otherwise, 1 De Consideratione, v. 3. SCHOLASTICISM AND MYSTICISM. 311 how shall God be all in all, if in man there remains aught of human affection ? The substance indeed will remain, but in another form, another glory, another power." x This supreme altitude, according to Bernard, can never be gained by human industry. It is reached only as the spirit is transported by the gracious power of God, and belongs rather to the life to come than to earthly experience, though some claim to have realized it in this world. Hugo was a contemporary of Bernard. Born in 1097, he entered the cloister of St. Victor, near Paris, in 1115, where he continued the life of study and contem plation till his death in 1141. He was at once scho lastic and mystic, and in both relations exercised no inconsiderable influence upon his successors. As distinguished by Hugo, there are three different modes in which the mind may occupy itself with ob jects, namely, cogitatio, meditatio, and contemplatio. The first denotes a passing attention to a thing as it is pre sented to the senses or called up by the memory ; the second denotes a careful scrutiny and examination, with the design of ascertaining the hidden nature of a thing ; the third denotes the intuitive insight, which penetrates to the very depths of things, and discovers their meaning without any labored investigation. To the last alone does perfect clearness belong. It is the faculty of open vision. " What meditation seeks, con templation possesses." The latter, however, may be distinguished into two kinds: an earlier and less per fect, which is directed to creatures ; a final and perfect, which is directed to the Creator. At the initiation of 1 Liber de Diligendo Deo, viii.-x. Compare Epist. xi. 312 THE MEDIAEVAL CHURCH. meditation, knowledge is obscured by mixture with ignorance. The effect is like the mingled smoke and flame which break forth at the starting of a fire. In the next stage — the inferior form of contemplation, which may be termed speculation — the obscurity has ceased ; there is now only fire and flame. In the final stage the clarified vision rests with a perfectly settled and satisfied glance upon the one Divine object; the quivering flame has disappeared, and the fire alone remains. " The whole heart, being then converted into the fire of love, truly feels that God is all in all." 1 In another connection Hugo brings out an idea much favored by mystics, namely, that contemplation must take a subjective course in order to reach its goal. One must first enter into self, as he teaches, in order to transcend self. " In spiritual and invisible things the highest is identical with the most interior. To ascend to God, therefore, is to enter into one's self, and not only to enter into one's self, but in a certain ineffable mode in the inner depths of the being to pass beyond one's self." 2 Richard, a disciple of Hugo, and his successor in the office of teacher and prior at St. Victor, likewise com bined the characteristics of both the scholastic and the mystic. Starting upon the foundation of his pre decessor, he attempted to build up a more complete superstructure of mystical theology. Like Hugo, Richard distinguishes three cardinal func tions or activities of man as a rational being, cogitatio, meditatio, and contemplatio. These correspond to the 1 Horn, in Salomonis Ecclesiasten, i. 2 De Vanitate Mundi. SCHOLASTICISM AND MYSTICISM. 313 three faculties, imagination, reason, and intelligence, the last differing from the second as the faculty of in tuition differs from that of discursive thinking. The proper goal of contemplation is the immediate vision of God. However, on the way to this goal several stages may be passed through. Indeed, no less than six stages of contemplation may be specified. The first is directed to nature, as a field from which one may derive a spontaneous impression of divine power, wisdom, and goodness. In the second, the mind passes beyond this spontaneous impression, and inquires after the order, cause, and use of visible things. In the third, the similitude between the visible and the in visible is made an occasion of the thought being up lifted to the latter. In the fourth, the images of visible things are wholly transcended, and incorporeal entities, such as one's own soul, or such as spirits and angels, are apprehended. In the fifth stage there is a vision of the divine, which may be described as above reason, but not contrary to reason. In the sixth stage contem plation is apparently counter to reason (prceter ra tionem), as well as above reason. Here the soul is confronted with mysteries transcending all its powers of rational insight. Such is the mystery of the Holy Trinity.1 In the first four of these stages human in dustry has a part to perform along with divine agency. 1 The technical scheme for these different stages is thus given : " Primum est in imaginatione et secundum solam imaginationem. Se cundum est in imaginatione secundum rationem. Tertium est in ratione secundum imaginationem. Quartum est in ratione et secundum ratio nem. Quintum est supra, sed non prater rationem. Sextnm est supra rationem, et videtur esse praeter rationem." (Benjamin Major, i. 6.) 314 THE MEDIAEVAL CHURCH. But in the last two all depends upon the grace of God. One may prepare himself for them by the exercises of self-discipline and of piety; he attains to them only as he is transported by the might of that same Spirit which caught up Paul to the third heaven. In such an experience, the mind is lost both to the world and to itself in ecstasy. " When we are caught up into the contemplation of divine things, forthwith we are made oblivious, not only of all things without, but also of all within us. And likewise, when we return to our selves from that lofty height, we are in no wise able to recall what we saw in that distinctness in which it was presented to us. And although we may retain some veiled and indistinct image of what we beheld, we are able neither to comprehend nor to remember the mode and the character of the vision." 1 Bonaventura followed the example of the Victorines in representing at once the scholastic and the mystic theology. He was born in Italy in 1221. At the age of twenty-one he entered the Franciscan order. He studied at Paris under the renowned Alexander Hales. This teacher, it is said, was so impressed by the sanctity of his life, that he was wont to remark that Bonaven tura seemed to have been born without original sin. In 1256 he was elected General of his order. His death occurred in 1274, a few months after that of his dis tinguished contemporary, Thomas Aquinas. The mystical teaching of Bonaventura, while char acterized by some peculiarities in the choice of terms, was essentially the same as that of the Victorines. Like Richard, he distinguishes six stages of contem- 1 Benjamin Major, i. 12, iv. 23. SCHOLASTICISM AND MYSTICISM. 315 plation. In the first two, the attention is directed to outward nature, as bearing the traces of a divine hand. In the next two, the attention is turned inward to the soul as the image of Deity, a mirror in which some what of His perfections is reflected. In the last two stages there is an ecstatic vision of God in His absolute being and trinitarian life.1 The name of another great theologian of the period might also be cited under the subject of orthodox mys ticism. While mainly exhibiting the bent of the scho lastic, Albertus Magnus devoted some attention to the mystical theology. Indeed, in the view of Preger, he may be regarded as quite an important contributor. For, although he added nothing essentially new, he gave to previous teachings a clearer and more complete statement. Moreover, his great reputation for learning and metaphysical ability naturally drew the attention of later mystics to that which he had written upon their favorite themes. It is to be noticed of all of these writers, from Ber nard to Albertus Magnus, that they strongly emphasize the ethical conditions of divine union ; that they repre sent the higher stages of that union as being always a supernatural gift ; and that they in fact distinguish the ultimate stage from a pantheistic absorption into Deity, however near some of their fervid statements may seem to come to this result.2 1 Itinerarium Mentis ad Deum, etc. 2 See Stockl, Geschichte der Philosophic des Mittelalters, Band ii. §241. THIRD PERIOD. 1294-1517. INTRODUCTION. THIS closing period of the Mediaeval Church is throughout an illustration of the way in which, under Divine Providence, the conditions are made ready for a great crisis. The revolution of the sixteenth cen tury came as a surprise to men only because they had not the insight to discover the inevitable goal of the preceding events. Through the space of two centuries Europe had been preparing for that season of upheaval and readjustment. Designedly or undesignedly, all parties — the State, the Church, the critic within the Church, and the agitator who was cast out of its fel lowship — had been making their contribution toward the final result. Even those who were most concerned to preserve the old order of things intact became, through their blind and selfish policy, the instigators and servants of revolution. Nearly the whole list of topics, therefore, upon which we now enter, might be classed as antecedents of the Protestant Reformation. The reason why humanism is not treated among these topics is not the lack of a title to the same classi fication. It was truly a forerunner of Protestantism. By proclaiming the permanent worth of the classic 320 THE MEDIEVAL CHURCH. systems it gained recognition for the interests of civil ization in general, and provided an offset to the domi nance of the purely ecclesiastical. It thus assisted to a departure from the mediaeval basis. But it was an accompaniment of the first stages of Protestantism, as well as a preparation. It will be of practical advan tage, therefore, to defer its treatment till we reach the Reformation era. Some of the topics which have engaged our attention in previous periods scarcely require a detailed consider ation in this. Aside from features connected with the papacy, church constitution does not exhibit many noteworthy developments. A phase of some impor tance in the relations of ecclesiastics to the State was that which grew out of the increase of monarchical power and independence, such as we find in England and France toward the close of the period. This tended to limit in a measure the immunities which had been claimed by the clergy. In the sphere of discipline, a principal fact to be noticed is the enormous extent to which the sale of jnf^lgences_y7as carried. The closing of the crusades was far from involving a sealing up of the treasury of merits. It was kept open to the hand of the Pope, and any undertaking which he was pleased to call a holy war, whether directed against a prince, a papal rival, or a company of heretics, was made an occasion for a generous offer of indulgences. Thus John XXII. endeavored to sustain his unrighteous attack against Louis of Bavaria by promise of the same indulgences which were customarily obtained by joining the Eastern crusade. Urban VI. offered like favors to those who INTRODUCTION. 321 would assist in overthrowing the antipope. John XXIII. sought, through an extensive sale of indul gences, the means of humbling Ladislaus, King of Naples. Martin V. promised plenary indulgences to all who would take up arms against the Hussites ; and Innocent VIII. urged on the Christians of Savoy and France against the Waldenses in Piedmont, by the ex pectation of an equal reward. Aside from these more prominent occasions of distribution, there was a great throng of local interests to which response was given. The work of the Inquisition involved continual drafts upon the unfailing treasury ; in fact, so far as a pro fusion of indulgences could cheer the officials of the Holy Office along their hard path, they were not desti tute of comfort. Among subordinate agents engaged in trafficking with these spiritual goods, not a few, no doubt, were genuine prototypes of Tetzel, and practised in a shameless way upon the ignorance of the people.1 While the abuse was not effectually dealt with, it did not escape censure. The Council of Constance left on record both its recognition of scandalous malpractice and its desire to place it under restraint.2 1 We read of some who went so far in disregarding all limitations upon the value of indulgences, that they proclaimed their efficacy to deliver the damned from hell. (Raynaldus, anno 1453, n. 19 ; Amort, De Origine, Progressu, Valore ac Fructu Indulgentiarum, pars ii. sect. i. cap. xvi.) This, of course, was going further than the authorities could allow. 2 The Council annulled all grants of indulgences made since the time of Clement V., and gave the following as the reason for its action : " Quia tempore schismatis, quo singula quasi spiritualia publice exponebantur venditioni, multae quaestuationes ac petitiones cum quamplurium indul gentiarum et concession um privilegio, ut verosimiliter prsesumitur, pro 21 322 THE MEDIAEVAL CHURCH. In the department of worship there was a tendency, along with increased acceptance of the immaculate conception, to render increased homage to the Virgin. Two new festivals, those of the Presentation and the Visitation, were instituted in her honor. The credulous found new occasion for Mariolatry in the fable respect ing the miraculous transfer of the house of the Virgin from Palestine to Loretto. There were, no doubt, some offsets to these crudities ; but in the extensive lack of edifying preaching, the means for disabusing the pop ular mind of shallow and superstitious notions were sadly inadequate. pecunia plus, quam pro animarum salute sunt concessa? in gravamen pauperum, et ecclesiastici status ridiculum, et quibus velut ex facilitate veniae incentivum prabetur delinquendi." (Amort, pars ii. sect. ii. cap. x.) CHAPTER I. CHIEF POLITICAL DEVELOPMENTS. ITALY was still, in a pre-eminent sense, the country of transitions. The conflicting claims and mutual encroachments of Church and Empire, of free cities and kingdoms, involved continual agitation and frequent changes in the status of different members in the com plex aggregate of political powers. This breaking up of the sovereignty into many fragments was not with out its benefits. Government was made thereby a matter of personal concern to a relatively large pro portion of the people. Responsibility and struggle im parted a certain confidence, and stimulated to achieve ment. At any rate, in point of intellectual activity, Italy occupied a conspicuous place in Europe in the fourteenth and fifteenth centuries. But, on the other hand, lack of national unity involved great misery and waste, and invited in the devastating hand of foreign dominion. The emancipation from the French yoke which Sicily achieved by the terrible expedient of the " Sicilian Ves pers " (1282) proved to be a permanent acquisition. Charles II., who succeeded his father upon the throne of Naples, though seconded in his efforts by the Pope, was not able to recover the island. Frederic, brother 324 THE MEDIAEVAL CHURCH. of the King of Aragon, remained in possession. During the whole time that the Angevin dynasty ruled at Na ples, Sicily was independent of the Neapolitan realm. First under Alfonso, who established the Aragonese dynasty at Naples in 1442, the island kingdom was reunited to its neighbor upon the peninsula. At Rome the civil authority claimed by the pontiff, while receiving a general acknowledgment, was still subject to serious obstructions at the hands of the tur bulent nobility and the unstable populace. The long absence of the Popes from the city in the fourteenth century gave enlarged scope to these unruly factors. At this time occurred the most noted outbreak of re publican enthusiasm witnessed in Rome since the days of Arnold of Brescia. The leader in the movement was Cola di Rienzi. His motive was not so much a genuine zeal for democratic or republican rule as a poetic antiquarianism. Being a man of ardent fancy, he revelled in the glory of the old republican Rome.' To bring back that glory seemed to his impetuous mind a possible achievement. He hoped to unite all the Italian cities in a confederacy centring in Rome, and then to lift the eternal city to a still grander head ship. Gifted with an eloquent tongue, and assisted by that enthusiasm for the antique which then numbered not a few votaries, among them the illustrious Petrarch, Rienzi came speedily to a complete ascendency (1347). The tribune became the dictator. In his earliest essays he had been somewhat favored by the Pope, who was willing to patronize democracy to a certain extent, as a counterpoise to the Roman nobility. But when the daring sweep of Rienzi's undertaking became manifest, CHIEF POLITICAL DEVELOPMENTS. 325 the Pope joined hands with his adversaries to compass his overthrow. This was the less difficult, as the pos session of power brought to light Rienzi's lack of bal ance and statesmanlike wisdom. Failing of the needed support, he left the city. A subsequent reinstatement sufficed only for a brief season of pompous rule. He fell a victim in a popular insurrection in 1354. The schism which covered the last quarter of the fourteenth and the first part of the fifteenth century was not favorable to the temporal interest of the papacy. Not long afterwards, however, the Pope held a more stable place than ever in Rome,1 and advanced also in a conspicuous measure his rule over the sur rounding territory. The gravitation of the cities of Northern Italy toward the estate of oligarchies or principalities was noticed in the preceding period. Florence was one of the most tenacious in holding on to her republican liberty, but at length, in the course of the fifteenth century, allowed it to be sacrificed before the powerful ascendency of the Medici family. A position of high importance was attained by Milan in this era. Here the Visconti family usurped the con trol. A princely rank had already been maintained by them for some time, when it was virtually sanctioned (1395), in that Milan was erected into a duchy by letters patent of the Emperor. On the extinction of this family in the male line (1447), the rule of Milan fell into the hands of the able general, Francesco Sforza. Meanwhile the intermarriage of the Visconti with the 1 More especially after the abortive attempt at a popular rising by Stephen Porcaro, in the time of Nicolas V. 326 THE MEDIEVAL CHURCH. royal house of France had given rise in that quarter to a claim upon Milan. A door was thus opened to French ambition to gain a secure foothold in Italy. Francis I., in the early part of the sixteenth century, attempted to enter this door. He found himself, how ever, effectually confronted by the Spanish power. At the close of the thirteenth century the Ghibelline party was in a repressed state in most of the Italian cities. But it rose at various points in the next century, and maintained itself with no little vigor. Some re markable exhibitions were given, at this time, of the hold which the Empire had upon the thought and feel ing of men. As some of the early Christians had taught that when the Roman Empire should be dissolved the world would come to an end, so mediaeval Christians thought of the Empire as coextensive with the tem poral order of things. It seemed to them to be a neces sary counterpart of the Church, a universal dominion over the bodies of men alongside that spiritual dominion which extends over all souls upon earth. The unex tinguished force of this sentiment appeared in the warm enthusiasm with which Henry VII. was welcomed as he came into Italy in 1310. Though the issue proved that very few, if any, desired to be really governed by the Emperor, many hailed him in the first instance as though he were the embodiment of beneficent sov ereignty, the pillar of civil order. It was thus that he was regarded by the greatest Ghibelline of the age, the poet Dante. In his De Monarchia, which gave full expression to his views, he argued that the Empire has its own foundation, no less than the Church; that it arose in the ordering of Divine Providence, is essential CHIEF POLITICAL DEVELOPMENTS. 327 to human welfare, was acknowledged by Christ, who was born and fulfilled His ministry under its sway, has an inalienable right which cannot be surrendered even by the free act of any particular Emperor, and is de pendent upon no earthly sanction for its authority. The Emperor should indeed cultivate relations of amity with the Pope, and give ear to his spiritual counsels. But in his own sphere he is independent. "It is clear," says Dante, "that the authority of temporal monarchy comes down, with no intermediate will, from the fountain of universal authority."1 Thus Dante opposed ideal to ideal, placing over against the arro gant sovereignty of the Pope, which claimed to dis pose of the Empire at pleasure, the divine right and independent basis of imperial rule.2 1 Book III., translation by F. J. Church. 2 Bryce thus gives the genesis of the papal claim : " It was not diffi cult to find grounds on which to base such a doctrine. Gregory VII. deduced it with characteristic boldness from the power of the keys, and the superiority over all other dignities which must needs appertain to the Pope as arbiter of eternal weal or woe. Others took their stand in the analogy of clerical ordination, and urged that since the Pope in con secrating the Emperor gave him a title to the obedience of all Christian men, he must have himself the right of approving or rejecting the can didate according to his merits. Others again, appealing to the Old Tes tament, showed how Samuel discarded Saul and anointed David in his room, and argued that the Pope now must have powers at least equal to those of the Hebrew prophets. But the ascendency of the doctrine dates from the time of Pope Innocent ITI., whose ingenuity discovered for it an historical basis. It was by the favor of the Pope, he declared, that the Empire was taken away from the Greeks and given to the Germans in the person of Charles ; and the authority which Leo then exercised as God's representative must abide thenceforth and forever in his successors, who can therefore at any time recall the gift, and bestow it on a person or a nation more worthy than its present holders. This is the famous theory of the Translation of the Empire, which plays so 328 THE MEDIMVAL CHURCH. The dream of Dante was far from being fulfilled. No Augustus arose to bring in a golden age of universal peace. Inside the Germanic States the Emperor found but limited means of asserting his will. While his au thority was regarded in general as a necessary bond of union, the princes were disposed to evade any particular applications of it that were not agreeable to their minds. Outside of Germany, after the days of Henry VII., the Emperor possessed only a shadow of power. As the modern era was approached, those romantic sentiments which had given support to imperialism greatly waned. The notion of universal rule lost its hold. Even the ceremony of investiture with the Roman imperium — the coronation by the Pope — was dispensed with, Frederic III. (1452) being the last to receive this hon ored token at Rome.1 In the sixteenth century the head of the Holy Roman Empire had become very gen erally in men's thoughts, as well as in reality, simply the Emperor of Germany. In France, the sovereigns who followed Philip the Fair showed less ability for advancing royal and na tional interests than had characterized his vigorous rule. Moreover, they began to be embarrassed, within the space of a generation, by enormous difficulties in the external relations of the realm. The claim which Ed- large a part in controversy down till the seventeenth century." (The Holy Roman Empire, chap, xiii.) "Dante's arguments are not stranger than his omissions. No sus picion is breathed against Constantine's donation ; no proof is adduced, for no doubt is felt, that the empire of Henry VII. is the legitimate con tinuation of that which had been swayed by Augustus and Justinian." (Bryce, chap, xv.) 1 Charles V. was crowned at Bologna. CHIEF POLITICAL DEVELOPMENTS. 329 ward III. of England put forth to the crown of France, and in pursuance of which he invaded the country in 1339, seemed at times, in the ensuing struggle of nearly one hundred and twenty years, on the point of being realized. Great defeats were suffered by the French forces, as in the battles of Cre"cy, Poitiers, and Agin- court. Perhaps the acme of distress was reached in 1429, when the English soldiers were pressing the siege of Orleans with every prospect of success. The French troops were dispirited, the King in despair. Then it was that the weak was enabled to confound the mighty. A humble peasant girl, Joan of Arc, became the in spired heroine who retrieved the national fortunes. By 1453, the ambitious project which had been started by Edward III. was a thing of the past. English domin ion in France comprised thereafter only the town of Calais and a narrow tract of adjacent territory. With this emancipation from foreign pressure, the power of the crown was increased. As early as 1439 a note worthy blow was dealt to the remains of the feudal system in the realm by the ordinance of Charles VII. providing for a permanent military force. This was to be officered by the nominees of the King, and was ex pected to supersede very largely such private equip ments as the nobles were accustomed to make. Under the crafty policy of Louis XL (1461-1483) still further advance was made toward the extinction of feudalism and the concentration of sovereignty in the King. English political history records two noteworthy de velopments in this period. The first of these was an advance toward parliamentary privilege, and constitu tional limitations upon the monarchy. The wars with 330 THE MEDIAEVAL CHURCH. Scotland, which began in the reign of the first Edward, and those with France from the time of Edward III. involved a financial drain which made it prudent for sovereigns to consult the national representatives, and to enlist their friendly co-operation. Hence Parlia ments were called, and were conceded powers which came to be deemed of constitutional virtue. " During the long reign of Edward III.," says Hallam, "the ef forts of Parliament in behalf of their country were re warded with success in establishing upon a firm footing three essential principles of our government : the ille gality of raising money without consent ; the necessity that the two houses should concur for any alterations in the law ; and, lastly, the right of the commons to inquire into public abuses, and to impeach public counsellors." The second development was in an opposite direction from the foregoing. This became manifest during the wars between the houses of York and Lancaster, which covered the space of a generation in the last half of the fifteenth century. In the course of the struggle many great nobles were attainted, and their confiscated es tates added to the wealth and the consequent inde pendence of the sovereign.1 With the accession of the Tudors (1485) the counter development went still further, and constitutional limitations upon the crown were thrown very largely into abeyance. 1 " If the Wars of the Roses," says Green, " failed in utterly destroy ing English freedom, they succeeded in arresting its progress for more than a hundred years. With them we enter upon an epoch of consti tutional retrogression, in which the slow work of the age that went before it was rapidly undone." (Vol. ii. chap, i.) CHAPTER II. POPES AND COUNCILS. A GLANCE over the period reveals several eras in the fortunes of the papacy. First we have the spectacle of lofty pretension ending in signal failure, — a pontiff who would tread on the necks of kings cast down himself into the dust. Then follows a long inter val, in which the power that wrought this humiliation holds the papacy in a subservient relation to itself, — the interval of seventy years (1305-1376) during which the Popes scarcely enter Rome, and are the subjects, or at best the allies, of the French monarchy. Close upon this follows a time of still deeper abasement of the papal dignity. A schism of nearly forty years' duration (1378-1417) gives occasion to the intervention of a su perior tribunal, and important councils deal with Popes as with a subordinate factor in church government. The energy and shrewdness of the pontiffs who follow the schism serve in a measure to recover lost ground, but the gain is soon offset by the worldly ambition of the Popes, which leads them to absorb their energies in building up a principality in Italy, to the neglect of wider interests, and to a total disregard of the gather ing storm which is about to shake the fabric of their power to its foundations. It will be our task now to consider these developments in order. 332 THE MEDIAEVAL CHURCH. I. Boniface VIII. entered upon his pontificate with an ambition and a self-confidence in excess of his re sources. He thought to rule as Innocent III. had ruled. But a century had wrought no inconsiderable change in the temper of princes and peoples. Europe after the crusades was not the same as Europe in the midst of the crusades. There was more alertness, more independence, a stronger current of purely secular en terprise. In pursuing any policy which looked toward national advantage, a prince could be more firm against papal demands, as being better assured of support within his realm. It happened, too, as Boniface be came Pope, that strong hands were in possession of the sceptre. The German Emperor, it is true, was not formidable ; but Edward I. of England was a prince of strong will and resolute courage, thoroughly indisposed to submit to any exterior authority ; and the same was true of the French King, Philip the Fair, a man of peculiar inflexibility, in whom feeling and conscience were, to all appearance, absolutely dormant before self- interest. The circumstances under which Boniface attained the papal dignity were not such as to command for him the most hearty and unanimous welcome. His prede cessor, Celestine V., after a pontificate of a few months, had taken the extraordinary step of a voluntary abdica tion. With this act, which some regarded as in any case of questionable validity, Boniface was more promi nently associated than suited his reputation. Early testimony reinforces the inference which is suggested by the known character of Boniface, and informs us that he took a leading part in persuading his weak pre- POPES AND COUNCILS. 333 decessor to lay down his office.1 This was nothing else than an expedient of the proud and officious cardinal for hastening his own advancement, and is made to appear all the more odious by his subsequent treatment of Celestine. The humble man was not allowed to choose his own place of seclusion, but was put under strict custody, for fear that he might be instigated to claim back his lost crown. According to Peter d'Ally, Boniface afflicted his prisoner with needless severity, contrary to the wish of the cardinals.2 However this may have been, the discrowned pontiff was shabbily treated in being robbed of his liberty. Surely Boniface must have had an inadequate apprehension of the saint- ship of Celestine, which was formally proclaimed by a near successor, or he would have seen that the plea of necessary prudence, used to cover his act of vio lence, might very properly be challenged. A saint so dangerous to the successor of Peter that he must be treated like a criminal is a spectacle that calls for ex planation. As respects Italian affairs, Boniface scored some vic- 1 Ptolemaeus Lucensis says that Boniface by his aptness for business gained an eminent place in the College of Cardinals, " sed propter hanc causam factus est fastuosus, et arrogans, ac omnium contemtivus." (Mu- ratori, Rerum Italicarum Scriptores, xi. 1203.) The same writer states that he was the foremost agent in persuading Celestine to abdicate. (Raynaldus, Annal. Eccl., sub anno 1294.) Walsingham speaks of Boni face as having craftily induced Celestine to resign the papal office, — "subdole induxisset." (Hist. Anglicana, anno 1294.) The formula of abdication which was read by Celestine is declared to have been written by another. (Raynaldus.) The conclusion that this other was Boniface lies near at hand. 2 Raynaldus, anno 1295, where some testimony of a different tenor is given. 334 THE MEDIAEVAL CHURCH. tones and suffered some defeats. In the latter must be reckoned his attempt to extend the sovereignty of Charles II., King of Naples, over Sicily. James of Ara gon was indeed persuaded to abandon the claim of his house to that island. But the Sicilians were not at all disposed to fall again under the hated rule of the line of Anjou, and heartily sustained Frederic, the brother of James of Aragon, in his effort to establish himself as their king. Boniface, who is supposed to have been indebted to Charles II. for aid in securing his election, entered vigorously upon the task of sustaining his ally. He declared Frederic's assumption of the crown of Sicily an abominable usurpation ; denounced his claim as a complete nullity; forbade Frederic to adopt any royal title whatever, and the Sicilians to yield him any obedience, on pain of forfeiting all privileges which had been granted by the Holy See.1 Aside from gratifying the feelings of Boniface this peremptory mandate did little good. The valiant Frederic fought successfully for his crown. Boniface in the end allowed his claim.2 It was stipulated, to be sure, that the crown of Sicily should revert to the King of Naples on the death of Frederic. But such a provision looks very much like an expedient to save appearances ; there could hardly have been a serious expectation that it would be ful filled. In another project Boniface was far more successful. He gained indeed a complete triumph for the time being, though ultimately compelled to pay dearly for his vic tory. We refer to his onslaught against the Colonnas, ' Raynaldus, anno 1296. 2 Ibid., anno 1303. POPES AND COUNCILS. 335 i one of the most powerful families in the Romagna. There was naturally a jealousy between the Pope and this house. Having placed himself at the head of the Guelfs, Boniface could hardly fail to hold the house of Colonna, with its Ghibelline affinities, under sus picion. On their part the Colonnas were probably not very careful to conceal their ill will, and one of them was so rash as to plunder some property of the Pope which was being conveyed to his native town, Anagni. Nothing more was needed to provoke jealousy into an unappeasable rage. No distinction was made between the guilty and the innocent. The two Colonna car dinals were deposed and excommunicated, and their nephews, as also their posterity down to the fourth generation, were declared incapable of any spiritual office. The condemned house was called upon to de liver up its castles. As it refused to do this, appealed against the Pope, and questioned his title, (since, as they alleged, Celestine's abdication was unauthorized,) Boni face proclaimed the whole family outlawed, — incapable of transmitting any estates or dignities, — called the faithful to a crusade against it, and stimulated the zeal of any who would listen to his summons by promise of the same indulgences as were wont to be granted to those engaged in warfare for the Holy Land.1 The Pope's war-cry found a response, especially in the rival family, the Orsini. The Colonnas were obliged to bend to the storm. Their castles were dismantled, and no refuge was open to them save in flight from their country. In Germany, Boniface met with indifferent success. 1 Raynaldus, annis 1297, 1298. 336 THE MEDIEVAL CHURCH. He was not able to control the alliances of the Em peror Adolphus ; and after this prince was overthrown by the tyrannical Albert, the stress of the conflict in which the Pope was engaged elsewhere drove him at length to recall his excommunications, and to make terms with the usurper. Hostilities between Edward of England and Philip the Fair of France gave the Pope his first conspicuous occasion to meddle with the affairs of these realms. Early in his pontificate he commanded the belligerent sovereigns to make peace. As they gave no heed to his mandate, he resorted to more practical measures. Near the beginning of 1296, he issued a strict injunction against ecclesiastics making contributions to laymen, under any name or pretext whatever, without the papal authorization. Whoever should offend by contributing or by exacting contribution was to be excommunicated, and to have no privilege of absolution till the dy ing hour, unless by special grant of the Pope. This injunction, embodied in the bull Clericis Laicos, was expected to arrest the warlike operations of the two Kings, since both of them depended largely upon the taxes which they had imposed upon ecclesiastical prop erty. However, it failed of its purpose. The English King brought most of his clergy to terms by threaten ing, in case of non-compliance, to withhold from them the protection of the laws.1 The French King re sponded to the papal interference with an expedient suited to his haughty temper, and calculated also to touch the Pope to the quick ; he issued an order pro hibiting the exportation of gold and other valuables 1 Walsingham, annis 1296, 1297. POPES AND COUNCILS. 337 without the royal license. As Boniface was on the eve of his conflict with the Colonna family, he found it prudent to modify his demands upon Philip. Though indulging to some extent in the lofty language which he was so fond of employing, he really retreated from the requirement which had been proclaimed in the bull Clericis Laicos, and consented that the French clergy might render financial aid to their sovereign. A rup ture was thus avoided for the time being with the French monarch. The English King also found it for his convenience to make peace. Boniface was allowed to arbitrate the case between the two sovereigns (1298), it being distinctly understood that he was to fulfil this function by the consent of the parties, rather than in virtue of any official prerogatives. In the further relations between the English King and the Pope, the principal occasion of controversy was the jurisdiction which Edward sought to assert over Scotland. In answer to the appeal of the Scots for his intervention, the Pope declared that the kingdom of Scotland was a fief of the Holy See, commanded the release of Scottish prisoners and the surrender of cas tles and monasteries, and ordered Edward to despatch his ambassadors to Rome that they might there receive a final disposition of matters in dispute between the two kingdoms. The response to the Pope's manifesto was prudently made through the national Parliament, rather than by the King in person. It was a bold refusal of the Pope's settlement, the assembled barons declaring that they would not permit the King to surrender England's right over Scotland. In the course of the negotiations, the Pope and the King ex- 22 338 THE MEDIAEVAL CHURCH. changed elaborate documents in support of their re spective claims.1 Meanwhile Philip the Fair took no special pains to in sure peaceful relations with Boniface. He encroached upon certain ecclesiastical benefices and jurisdictions ; he gave asylum to the exiled Colonnas ; he entered into a treaty with the excommunicated Albert of Ger many. No open rupture occurred, however, till after the jubilee year 1300. Perhaps the events of that year had some influence in bringing about the collision that followed. Certain is it that they ministered greatly to the pride of the haughty pontiff. All Christendom seemed to be streaming to his footstool. It has been supposed that a million persons journeyed to Rome in the course of the year, to claim the benefit of the ample indulgences promised to all who should visit for fifteen days the basilicas of Peter and Paul.2 The altars of these churches overflowed with the offerings of the multitudes which day after day, in ceaseless proces sion, moved toward the sacred shrines of the apostles.3 1 Walsingham, anno 1301; Rymer, Foedera inter Reges Angliae et alios quosvis. 2 For Romans, as not having to endure the labor of pilgrimage, fifteen days extra were added. The proclamation of indulgence was couched in the most emphatic terms. Of those making the required visitation it said : " Omnibus vere poenitentibus et confessis, non solum plenam et largiorem, immo plenissimam omnium suorum concedimus veniam pec catorum." (Raynaldus, anno 1300.) 3 According to an eyewitness, money was thrown down in such pro fusion by the swarming crowds that it was collected with rakes : " Pluries ego vidi ibi tarn viros, quam mulieres conculcatos sub pedibus aliorum ; et etiam egomet in eodem periculo plures vices evasi. Papa innumera- bilem pecuniam ab eisdem recepit, quia die ac nocte duo clerici stabant ad altare sancti Pauli tenentes in eorum manibus rastellos rastellantea POPES AND COUNCILS. 339 What wonder if the proud old man in the chair of Peter, in the midst of such flattering tributes to his spiritual sovereignty, imagined himself not only lifted high above the kings of the earth, but competent to rule them according to his pleasure ! At any rate, the next year he proceeded as if very ready to undertake the task of humbling the French King. Not content to bring various grievances to the King's attention, the Pope chose as the bearer of his remon strances an agent peculiarly odious, Bernard Saisset, Bishop of Pamiers. The way in which the turbulent legate fulfilled his charge angered the monarch beyond measure. Matter of accusation was sought for, and Bernard Saisset, as guilty of treasonable conduct, was put under arrest. The wrath of Boniface now flamed forth. In a series of bulls he commanded the release of his legate, summoned the French clergy to Rome to take measures for settling the disorders in the French realm, and excommunicated the King.1 In some of these manifestoes the papal prerogatives were asserted in terms which had scarcely been paralleled up to that time. This was especially true of the bull Unam Sanctam, issued in November, 1302. What words could more strongly assert the solitary eminence of the Roman pontiff than the following : " We learn from the words of the gospel that in his power are the two swords, the spiritual and the temporal. For when the apostles said, ' Here are two swords,' that is, in the Church, the Lord pecuniam infinitam.*' (Chronica Astensia, cap. xxvi., apud Muratori, torn, xi.) 1 No one, however, had the courage to publish this excommunication in France. 340 THE MEDIEVAL CHURCH. replied, not that it was too many, but that it was enough. Certainly he who denies that the temporal sword is in the power of Peter attends but poorly to this say ing of Christ, ' Put up thy sword in its sheath.' Both therefore are in the power of the Church, the spiritual sword and the material ; the latter to be used for the Church, the former by the Church ; the one in the hand of the priest, the other in the hands of kings and sol diers, but wielded according to the will and sufferance of the priest. Now it is fitting that sword should be subordinate to sword, and that the temporal authority should be subject to the spiritual power : for the apostle says, ' There is no power save that which comes from God ; but all things coming from God are in orderly arrangement'; and they would not be thus arranged, unless sword were subordinate to sword, and the higher were reached from the lower through intermediate grades, according to the divine law which the blessed Dionysius has expounded. Therefore, if the earthly power transgresses, it is to be judged by the spiritual ; if a lower rank of the spiritual transgresses, it is to be judged by its superior ; if the highest spiritual rank is at fault, it is to be judged by God alone, not by man, as the apostle testifies, ' The spiritual man judges all things, but he himself is judged by none.' This au thority, even if it has been given to man, and is ex ercised through man, is not a human, but rather a divine power, given by divine sentence to Peter, and, both to himself and his successors in the same Christ whom he had confessed, a firm rock ; the Lord saying to the same Peter, ' Whatsoever thou shalt bind,' etc. Who ever therefore resists this power thus ordained of God POPES AND COUNCILS. 341 resists the ordination of God, unless, as Manichaeus im agines, there are two principles, which we judge to be false and heretical, since Moses testifies that God made heaven and earth not in principiis but in principio. Moreover, we declare, say, and define that to be subject to the Roman pontiff is for every human being alto gether necessary to salvation." ] Such language evidently implies a supremacy in the Pope before which kings hold only the place of instru ments, having no real autonomy or self-motion, except so far as the papal will may choose to allow. To sus tain these high claims against the refractory monarch of France, Boniface was willing to relax his rule for the time being in other quarters. So he made peace, as we have seen, with Frederic of Sicily and Albert of Germany. Furthermore, he ceased to press his claim to suzerainty over Scotland, and left the English King to pursue his ambitions in that quarter. Philip on his part spared no expedient. His remorse less egoism was a sufficient pledge that he would take no step toward conciliation, save under the stress of seeming interest. And in fact very little time was spent in temporizing. The King, however, did not allow his resentment to overcloud his discretion. Sharing in the temper of the astute lawyers whom he had gath ered about himself, he took his measures with keenness and adroitness. The prosecution against the Bishop of Pamiers was dropped, as being likely to alienate the 1 Raynaldus, anno 1302. The Fifth Lateran Council, held under Leo X., which passes for an Ecumenical Council, distinctly approved the Unam Sanctam. (Hergenrother, Conciliengeschichte, Fortsetzung, § 905; Liberatore, La Chiesa e lo Stato, p. 23.) 342 THE MEDIAEVAL CHURCH. clergy ; the sentiment of patriotism was enlisted against Boniface by the representation that his measures were an attack upon the national independence ; the good will of the people was solicited by promise of various ameliorations in the administration ; and diligent effort was made to thoroughly identify the cause of the King with the cause of the nation. To this end the three estates were assembled, • — the first instance in the his tory of the French monarchy in which the commons sat with nobles and clergy.1 The King found himself well supported. The clergy, indeed, wished to preserve a respectful attitude toward the Pope, but on the whole they acquiesced in the policy of the King. As for the nobles and the commons, they heartily seconded the royal will, and sent to the cardinals a vigorous protest against the papal assumptions and usurpations. At a second meeting of the estates, the severest charges were made against Boniface, and the necessity of a general council to release Christendom from his oppressions was asserted. This brought the struggle to a crisis. Boniface prepared to hurl his most effective bolt against the King. Excommunication, deposition, release of subjects from all allegiance, prohibition of all recogni tion of the deposed monarch either by service or ac ceptance of any office or position at his hands, — such 1 Martin remarks on the contrast between the occasions which as sembled the commons in England and France respectively : " The first appeal to the commons in England had been made by the barons against royalty, in the name of public liberties. The first appeal to the third estate of France was made by royalty against the Pope, in the name of national independence, and it was, strange to say, the most despotic of the kings of the middle ages who assembled our first States General. (ILstoire de France, livre xxvii.) POPES AND COUNCILS. 343 were the specifications which Boniface prepared and designed to publish by affixing to the porch of the ca thedral in Anagni on the 8th of September, 1303. When that day arrived, Boniface was in the custody of deadly enemies, who hardly stopped short of per sonal violence in their contumelious treatment of the pontiff. These enemies were Philip's councillor, Wil liam of Nogaret, and Sciarra Colonna. Supplied with ample funds, they had hired a band of lawless soldiers, and by a sudden sally into the town of Anagni, Sep tember, 7th, had captured Boniface and forestalled his thunderbolt against the French King. The Pope's cap tivity was of brief duration. The people of Anagni who had been enticed to a share in the assault, soon experi enced a revulsion of feeling and drove out the captors. But the rescue availed not for the humiliated pontiff. The stroke which levelled his pride at the same time pierced his life. He died shortly after the ordeal of his shameful arrest.1 In his downfall, according to a re port which became current among his opponents, this prophecy reached its fulfilment : " He came in like a fox, he will rule like a lion, he will die like a dog." 2 A loss of prestige naturally followed from the close conjunction of such lofty pretension and such deep humiliation. Even in the absence of further adversity, the papacy must have put forth vigorous efforts in order to recover lost ground. But ill fortune did not stop 1 Ptolemseus Lucensis states that his death was preceded by a con dition of insanity. (Hist. Eccl., xxii. 36, apud Muratori.) 2 "Ascendisti ut vulpes, regnabis ut leo, morieris ut cano.'' The words are ascribed in Walsingham (annis 1294, 1303) to Celestine, the predecessor of Boniface. 344 THE MEDIMVAL CHURCH. with the assault at Anagni. The grasping monarch of France took pains to follow up his advantage. From the immediate successor of Boniface, Benedict XL, he obtained a repeal of most of the censures which had been passed upon himself and his allies. Only William of Nogaret, Sciarra Colonna, and others who were im plicated in the capture of Boniface, were excluded from grace. Further than this Benedict was not willing to go in the way of conciliation. As Philip pressed for a formal condemnation of the deceased pontiff, he called forth resentment and opposition. A renewal of strife seemed probable. But the speedy death of the Pope brought matters to a halt ; and the character of the new incumbent encouraged the King to expect a slackened resistance to his designs. II. Philip the Fair did not misjudge his own in terests when he gave the weight of his influence in favor of Bernard de Goth, Bishop of Bordeaux, and thus directed to him the choice which for many months the divided college of cardinals had been unable to ef fect. For although he had adhered to Boniface in the recent quarrel, it was well surmised that he might be made subservient to royal designs, since he was not a man of great personal force or elevation of character. As report has it, the Bishop of Bordeaux paid a good round price for the coveted preferment. He engaged, it is said, to fulfil these six conditions: (1) To grant the King complete reconciliation to the Church. (2) To remove from him and his followers all censures which had been imposed. (3) To concede to him the tenths from the clergy, for five years. (4) To condemn and POPES AND COUNCILS. 345 bring to naught the memory of Pope Boniface. (5) To restore to the Colonna cardinals the goods and dig nities taken from them. (6) To perform a great and arduous undertaking, to be named at some future time.1 A definite bargain, couched in these terms, may not indeed have been made. But it is certain that the papacy at this point passed into a subservient relation to the French crown. As if to give visible expression to this fact, the newly elected Pope, who bore the name of Clement V., took up his residence on French soil. He was crowned at Lyons in 1305. In 1309 he made Avignon the seat of the papal court. This town, it is true, was not a part of the French kingdom. It belonged then to the King of Naples ; later, it came by purchase into the possession of the Popes themselves. However, it was not sufficiently remote from French jurisdiction to escape being dominated by French in fluence. The whole line of Avignon Popes, extending over a period of full seventy years (1305-1376), if we reckon from the beginning of Clement's administration, was scarcely more than an attachment to the French monarchy. Among the demands which Philip the Fair made upon his papal ally, one was peculiarly grievous to the soul of Clement V. To condemn the memory of Boni face in the manner in which the King wished to have it condemned, seemed to him to involve a serious dis honoring of the papacy itself. Thus he was placed in a most uncomfortable dilemma ; for it was not easy to resist the royal demand. With a venom which may be described as truly diabolical, Philip the Fair deter- 1 Raynaldus, anno 1305. 346 THE MEDIJEVAL CHURCH. mined to use pontifical authority to hand over the name of Boniface VIII. to everlasting infamy. Up to 1311 the spectre of this unseemly prosecution pur sued the harassed Pope. He was compelled to listen to charges against his predecessor which made him out to have been a blasphemous infidel, criminal, and profligate. At length, however, Philip, to the inex pressible relief of Clement, consented to abandon the prosecution, it being understood that he should be acquitted of all blame for anything which he had previously done to the prejudice of Boniface. The occasion of this change of resolution is not a matter of distinct record. A favorite conjecture has been, that the King, anxious to consummate his savage cru sade against the Templars, gave up the case against Boniface, thereby purchasing the papal edict, which came forth in 1312, for the abolition of this distin guished order. As Martin expresses it, " The living were to pay for the dead, the Templars for Boniface." x There is hardly warrant, however, for the supposition of a definite compromise between the King and the Pope, though it is not unlikely that the presence of the one cause materially affected the dealing with the other. The downfall of the Templars is one of the darkest tragedies of European history. On any view of their fate, it is most painful to contemplate. If they were guilty, the mind is shocked by the sight of men spe cially devoted to the service of the cross falling into gross apostasy. If they were innocent, the heart is overwhelmed with pity for their terrible sufferings. 1 Histoire de France, livre xxvii. POPES AND COUNCILS. 347 Whether they were guilty or innocent, all sense of justice and humanity is revolted by the barbarity of the procedure against them. Jealousy of the power of the Templars was the main spring of the onslaught. It was seen that they had become a formidable organization. They numbered some thousands of the best soldiers of the age, and these were supported by a much larger body connected with the order in the capacity of servants. Great wealth had also accrued to them. The fact that they cultivated a kind of haughty reserve, and dwelt mainly by themselves, naturally increased the suspicion of those inclined to look upon them with an evil eye. While the order had been subjected to various criti cisms in the preceding century, these were only such as a privileged and aggressive body in the Church was likely to encounter. None of them implied a serious conviction that the order had apostatized from Chris tian morals or faith. But near the beginning of the fourteenth century damaging rumors began to insinu ate themselves, though rather in the neighborhood of the French King than elsewhere. Renegade Templars helped to gain credence for the evil reports, until at length an atrocious list of charges was provided. These, as they were specified in the course of the prosecution, included such abominations as spitting upon the cross at initiation, denouncing Christ as an impostor, pay ing homage to a hideous idol, and giving full scope to unnatural lusts. Such charges were music to the ears of Philip. He abhorred the independent spirit of the order. He felt that in combination with the nobility they could defeat 348 THE MEDIAEVAL CHURCH. his scheme of monarchical supremacy. Urged therefore by jealousy, as well as by an avaricious thirst for their great possessions, he began to press energetically for the overthrow of the Templars. On the 13th of Oc tober, 1307, at early morn, in accordance with secret instructions which had previously been sent to the officers of the crown, all members of the order in the realm were seized and thrown into prison. To accu mulate confessions free use was made of the torture rack. In this way a somewhat formidable array of evi dence was secured. A number suffered the extreme penalty. On a single occasion (1310), fifty-four who retracted their confessions were burned at the stake. Several years later (1314), the Grand Master Jacques de Molay suffered the like fate. In 1312, as stated "above, the Pope declared the ord r dissolved. He did this, however, in a way which avoided a conclusion respecting its guilt, issuing his sentence, not as being judicially required, but as expedient, — non per modum dijfinitivce sententice, sed per viam provisionis et ordina- tionis apostohcce.1 The reserve which appears in the papal sentence has its reflex in the later verdict of history. Writers have been perplexed by the entanglements of the case, and have found it difficult to decide how far the Templars should be regarded guilty or innocent. Against them may be urged the record of their confessions. In their 1 Raynaldus, anno 1312. The property of the order was given to the Hospitallers to be used for the benefit of the Holy Land. Much of it, however, found its way into the coffers of the rapacious monarch, since, to say nothing about direct seizures, he made exorbitant charges for the temporary custody of the confiscated goods. POPES AND COUNCILS. 349 behalf may be cited such considerations as the follow ing. (1) The man who instigated and urged on the prosecution was every inch a tyrant, and was manifestly moved by resentment and avarice. (2) Torture or fear of torture was undoubtedly a main factor in eliciting confessions. (3) Confessions of guilt were not obtained in all quarters. " In France alone," says Milman, " and where French influence prevailed, were confessions obtained. Elsewhere, in Spain, in Germany, in parts of Italy, there was an absolute acquittal ; in England, Scotland, and Ireland there appears no evidence which in the present day would commit a thief or condemn him to transportation." x (4) The scores of knights who were burned at the stake steadfastly maintained, so long as they could find voice, that the order was guiltless of the alleged iniquities. The Grand Master declared himself worthy of death because of the false admissions which dread of torture and the flattering words of King and Pope had led him to make, and solemnly asserted with his dying breath the innocence of the order. (5) There is a certain intrinsic improb ability that such a body of men should have stooped to such enormous abasement as was charged against them. Like the contemporary charges against Boni face VIII., those against the Templars invite to in credulity by their apparent extravagance. (6) Several contemporary writers expressed the opinion that the 1 Latin Christianity, book xii. chap. ii. Compare Schottmiiller, Der Untergang des Templer-Ordens ; Lea, History of the Inquisition of the Middle Ages. An account of the process against the Templars in Eng land may be found in Wilkins, Concilia Magnae Britannia? et Hibernise, vol. ii., anno 1309. 350 THE MEDIAEVAL CHURCH. order was unrighteously made the victim of Philip's rapacity.1 Subserviency to the French crown did not exclude the Popes from the political field. On the contrary, it almost seems as if they sought compensation for vas salage to France by an extra degree of arbitrary deal ing with outside nations. Thus Clement V. issued an atrocious bull against the Venetians on account of their encroachments upon Ferrara. Not content with denoun cing against them the full list of spiritual penalties, he made their property liable to confiscation and their per sons to enslavement wherever they might be seized.2 A bull expressive of the same extravagant rage, and containing like specifications, was issued by Gregory XI. against the Florentines.3 John XXII. (1316-1334) during the last ten years of his pontificate kept up an 1 Gieseler, § 96; Schottmiiller, i. 532-645. A very decided verdict appears in the following, which, however, assigns a share of the guilty responsibility to William of Nogaret: "In diebus suis [Clement V.] admirabilis novitas, et persequutio facta fuit super ordinem Templari- orum ; quod processit ex invidia et cnpiditate Philippi Francorum Regis, qui odio Templarios habuit, eo quod ausi fuerunt stare contra ipsum ex sententia excommunicationis data per jam dictum Bonifacium contra dictum Regem. . . . Guilielmus de Nogareto Regis Francise Cancellarius auctor fuit pro posse ruinse ordinis Templariorum, eo quod patrem ejus tanquam hsereticum comburi fecerunt." (Chron. Astens., cap. xxviii.) 2 Raynaldus, anno 1309. 8 Raynaldus, anno 1376. "Et ne ipsorum temeritas transiret prse- sumptoribus in exemplum, bona ipsorum priorum, confallioneriorum vexillaef erorum justitise, officialium populi et communis, et etiam quorum- cumque Florentinorum, ubicumque consistentium, immobilia de eorun- dem fratrum nostrorum consilio confiscavimus ; et personas ipsorum omnium et singulorum, absque tamen morte seu membri mutilatione, exponimus fldelibus, ut capientium fiant servi, et bona eorum mobilia quibuscumque fldelibus occupanda." POPES AND COUNCILS. 351 implacable war against the German Emperor, Louis of Bavaria. A contested election had involved a prolonged struggle. This had ended in victory for Louis. So far as Germany was concerned, there was a full prep aration for peaceful acquiescence in his rule. At this point the Pope stepped in, required Louis to submit his claim to the papal decision, and on his failure to do this loaded him with the anathema. Clement VI. pursued him with equal implacability. A bull which he issued in 1346 may perhaps be regarded as the su preme specimen of pontifical cursing. Surely it would be difficult to transcend such terms as these : " We humbly implore divine power to repress the insanity of the aforesaid Louis, to bring down and to crush his pride, to overthrow him by the might of its right hand, to enclose him in the hands of his enemies and pursuers, and to deliver over to them his prostrate body. Let the snare be made ready for him in secret, and let him fall into it. Let him be accursed coming in ; let him be accursed going out. The Lord smite him with folly, and blindness, and frenzy of mind. Let the heavens send their lightnings upon him. Let the wrath of the omnipotent God and of the saints Peter and Paul burn against him in this world and in that to come. Let the whole earth fight against him ; let the ground open and swallow him up alive. In one generation let his name be blotted out and his memory extinguished from the earth. Let all the elements be against him. Let his habitation become a desert ; let all the merits of the saints above confound him, and make open dis play of vengeance upon him in this life ; and let his sons be cast out of their habitations, and with his own 352 THE MEDIAEVAL CHURCH. eyes let him see them destroyed in the hands of ene mies." 1 These aggressions were met by the German people with a fair degree of spirit. But the Emperor at length grew weary of the ban, and coveted recon ciliation. In England the special grievances suffered at the hands of the Popes were the usurpation of pat ronage and exactions of money. To old devices for amassing revenue, new were added. Thus John XXII. introduced the tax called annates, the value of a year's income from a benefice. Money thus gained was used to swell the magnificence of the papal court at Avignon, to carry through great building projects,2 and to forward French interests by overthrowing the German Emperor. If England had been restive at an earlier date under such encroachments she could not be expected to bear them patiently now ; and in fact very plain tokens of her resentment were given. Among the most sub stantial of these were the statutes of provisors and praemunire, the former being directed against papal pre sentations to benefices, and the latter sustaining it by forbidding any questioning of judgments rendered in 1 Raynaldus. A distinguished Roman Catholic of modern times has added this comment : " Thou ravest, O Peter ; thy great pride makes thee mad." (Baader, Werke, vol. x.) 2 Green, in his History of the English People, says : " The mighty building, half fortress, half palace, which still awes the traveller at Avignon, has played its part in our history. Its erection was to the rise of Lollardry what the erection of St. Peter's was to the rise of Luther- anism. Its massive walls, its stately chapel, its chambers glowing with the frescos of Simone Memmi, the garden which covered its roof with a strange verdure, called year by year for fresh supplies of gold ; and for this, as for the wider and costlier schemes of papal policy, gold could be got only by pressing harder and harder on the national churches the worst claims of the papal court." (i. 407.) POPES AND COUNCILS. 353 the King's courts, or any resort to foreign tribunals. These statutes were passed in 1351 and 1353 respect ively, and were renewed in 1365. Near the same time the papal claim to the tribute which John had stipulated for the realm, and which for a considerable time had not been paid, was effectually resisted, the Parliament heartily sustaining the King in rejecting the ill-timed demand of the Pope. While obnoxious measures were a source of bitter ness, the personal character of the Avignon Popes was not, on the whole, such as to conciliate affection and respect. Vice was rampant in their neighborhood. A large discount may be made on the description of Petrarch, who was an eyewitness, and it will still ap pear that Avignon was a veritable sink of iniquity. The Popes no doubt were not fully responsible for their environment ; at the same time, they helped rather than hindered the demoralization. Clement V. lavished upon his relations great sums drained from the Church, or, still worse, squandered them upon the Countess Bruni- sand de Foix, who was commonly reputed to have been his mistress. John XXII. left tokens of shameful ex tortion in immense heaps of gold. Clement VI. was an elegant voluptuary. When reminded that his pre decessors had been less extravagant in their expendi tures, he replied, " My predecessors did not know how to be Pope." 1 " The life of Clement," says Milman, " was a constant succession of ecclesiastical pomps, and gorgeous receptions, and luxurious banquets. Ladies were freely admitted to the court ; the Pope mingled 1 Ludwig Pastor, Geschichte der Papste seit dem Ausgang des Mit- telalters. 23 354 THE MEDIAEVAL CHURCH. with ease in the gallant intercourse. If John XXII., and even the more rigid Benedict, did not escape the imputation of unclerical license, Clement VI., who af fected no disguise in his social hours, would hardly be supposed superior to the common freedom of the eccle siastics of his day. The Countess of Turenne, if not, as general report averred, actually so, had at least many of the advantages of the Pope's mistress, — the distri bution of preferments and benefices to any extent, which this woman, as rapacious as she was handsome and imperious, sold with shameless publicity."1 An episode of some note in the annals of the Avignon Popes was an unfortunate dogmatic venture by John XXII. He put forth the conclusion that the saints do not enjoy the beatific vision till after the day of judg ment. There is no just reason to doubt, too, that he designed to sustain this conclusion. But so much of the odium of heresy was cast upon him, that he was finally glad, if we may trust the accounts given, to ac cept the outlet of escape which the Paris University had shrewdly suggested, namely, that he had enunciated his proposition as a thesis for disputation, and not as dogmatic teaching.2 1 Book xii. chap. ix. It was quite in accord with the prodigality of this Pope that he should have scattered indulgences with a, free hand. His jubilee bull (1350) was made out in generous terms. The off-hand way in which he therein lays his commands upon the angels can hardly be regarded as anything less than a festive stroke. Speaking of one who should die on the way to the celebration, he says : " Mandamus angelis paradisi, quod animam illius a purgatorio penitiis absolutam ad paradisl gloriam introducant." (Amort, pars i. sect. iii. cap. iii.) 2 Raynaldus, annis 1331, 1334. The words which he is said to have used just before his death are sufficiently humble, and savor little of the consciousness of infallibility : " Et si forsan in praedictis sermonibus, POPES AND COUNCILS. 355 III. Gregory XL, who ended the " Babylonish Cap tivity " of the papacy by returning to Rome in 1376, died two years later. The election of a successor took place under the most disturbed conditions. The Ro man people were determined to have an Italian Pope, and reinforced their demand by fierce threatenings and by alarming demonstrations around the hall of conclave. The French party deemed it prudent not to press their interest. An Italian, the Archbishop of Bari, who took the name of Urban VI., was elected. The Romans were placated, but the temporary calm was purchased at no small price. The new Pope had been only a few weeks in the chair of Peter, when a storm, destined to last for more than a generation, broke upon the Church. Among the causes precipitating the trouble, the charac ter of the Pope, next to the antagonism of the French and Italian interests, was the most conspicuous. As Gregorovius has remarked, Urban VI. was dowered with every quality fitted to make him a demon of strife.1 He was rude, overbearing, implacable. His cardinals were forthwith alienated, especially those with French affinities. Withdrawing to Anagni they sent forth the declaration that the election of Urban, as having occurred under the pressure of deadly peril, was invalid. Their cause, no doubt, had a very poor legal basis ; for although it was true that the electors had been threatened with violence if they should not choose vel collationibus aliqua, quae vel Scripturae sacrae seu fldei orthodoxae quovis modo essent vel viderentur obvia, ipsa prater intentionem a nobis fuisse prolata dicimus et asserimus eaque revocamus expresse, non in- tendentes illis adhaerere, nee ea in praesenti defendere, nee etiam in fu> turum." 1 Geschichte der Stadt Rom im Mittelalter, vol. vi. 356 THE MEDIAEVAL CHURCH. an Italian, they had not been compelled to cast their votes for any particular Italian, and moreover had fol lowed up the election by acts implying a full acknowl edgment of its validity.1 But the merits of the case were not carefully inspected. France readily gave ear to the disaffected cardinals, and supported their nomi nee. Castile, Aragon, Scotland, and some others of the smaller kingdoms, followed the example of France. Thus was inaugurated the most obstinate schism known to papal history. At the beginning, the contention was in large part a struggle between Avignon and Rome, between the French and the Italian interest. Later, it assumed more the character of personal ambition and pretension. After Europe in general had become heartily sick of the strife and the scandal, the opposing claimants con tinued each to assert, with desperate tenacity, his ex clusive right. The schism covered four pontificates on the Italian side; namely, those of Urban VI., Boni face IX., Innocent VII., and Gregory XII. The con temporary representatives of the French and Spanish party were Clement VII. and Benedict XIII. Not one in this list, unless it were Innocent VII., gained a title to respect or confidence. The unbearable temper which Urban VI. manifested in the first days of his rule was no false prophecy of what was to appear later. The 1 Theodoric a Niem, who, as an official at the papal court, had ex cellent means of learning the facts, says that at the time of Urban's in stallation no one expressed a doubt as to the validity of his election : " Tunc nullum dubium nullusque rumor sinister erat in urbe Roma, etiam inter Cardinales et alios quoscunque, quod idem Urbanus non esset verus Papa, aut quod per impressionem vel alias minus canonice foret electus." (De Schismate Papistico, lib. i. cap. iii.) POPES AND COUNCILS. 357 pastoral rod became in his hand an instrument of un sparing tyranny.1 Among the expressions of his savage severity were the torture and execution of five of his cardinals.2 His successor, Boniface IX., was guilty of shameless simony and nepotism.3 The others earned a well founded dislike by their extortion or tergiver sation. This time of disgrace and diminished power on the part of the papacy was naturally a time of opportunity for those who were inclined to press for a reform. The loosening of hierarchical restraint gave scope to larger freedom of thought and larger freedom of action. The movements of Wycliffe and Huss attained greater breadth and momentum than would have been possible in the face of an undivided and unencumbered sover eignty. Many who were unwilling to go as far as the English or the Bohemian reformer became nevertheless very free in their animadversions upon the papacy, and very bold in asserting its secondary place in church constitution. Indeed, the subordinate position of the Popes was not merely set forth as a matter of individ ual opinion, but was formally promulgated under what was clearly meant to be ecumenical sanction. The Church was in a manner driven to this action by the exigencies of the case. All attempts to heal the schism by inducing the two Popes to resign had proved 1 Walsingham describes the implacability of Urban VI. in these strong terms : "Vir, cujus captiositas multis fuit exitio, et sibimet, ut ferunt, damno. Rigidus erat sibi, sed suis multo rigidior ; ita ut delin- quentibus nunquam ignosceret, aut eorum aerumnis aliquatenus compa- teretur." (Anno 1389.) 2 Theodoric a Niem, De Schismate Papistico, lib. i. cap. xlv.-lx. 8 Ibid., lib. ii. 358 THE MEDIEVAL CHURCH. abortive. There seemed to be no way of escape from the fearful scandal and demoralization which afflicted Christendom, except in resorting to a higher tribunal. What should this be ? The early history of the Church with its record of councils which had manifestly occu pied the place of supreme authority, furnished the an swer. It was claimed that a council representative of the Church at large had plenary right to accomplish what ever the health of the Church might require, even to the judging and deposing of a pope. This principle was championed with special vigor by the Paris University under the leadership of John Gerson. In the endeavor also to give a practical application to the principle, the university took a conspicuous part. The first of the councils which was convened on this basis was that of Pisa, in 1409. It dealt with the of fending Popes in a very summary manner, declaring them deposed as being notoriously guilty of schism, her esy, contumacy, and perjury, whereby they had scan dalized the whole Church.1 In this decree the council addressed itself to only one part of its intent. It was determined to fulfil its opportunity to carry through greatly needed reforms. To this end pledges were ex acted of the cardinals, before they proceeded to elect a Pope, that the council should not be dissolved until it had applied itself to redressing abuses. The pledges, however, proved to be no adequate security. The new Pope, Alexander V, parried the demand for reform. Having only such consolation as might be found in the promise of a new assembly for the consideration of the subject, to be convened after three years, the council 1 Raynaldus, anno 1409. POPES AND COUNCILS. 359 was dissolved. In both parts of its intent it had met with failure , for the deposed pontiffs refused to accept its sentence, and, while the larger part of Europe ad hered to the nominee of the council, the other two claimants had some following. The result was that there were three instead of two who asserted their right to the papal honors. The case was moreover aggra vated by another disagreeable feature. Alexander V. died soon after the dissolution of the council. It was suspected, whether with or without just cause, that he had been poisoned by his cardinal, Balthasar Cossa. But this cardinal became his successor, the notorious John XXIIL, who was charged by his contemporaries with almost every namable crime, and was undoubtedly one of the vilest in the catalogue of bad Popes. Such was the issue of the high hopes and claims with which doctors and bishops had assembled at Pisa, — the add ing of a third contestant of peculiar worthlessness to the two already contending for the papal chair. The task which failed of accomplishment at Pisa fell to the Council of Constance. In convening this coun cil the recently elected Emperor Sigismund bore a prominent part. Though John XXHI. had reason to dread the action of a council assembled beyond the bounds of Italy, he had been brought into such straits by Ladislaus, the crafty and aggressive King of Naples, that he could not well resist the pleasure of the Em peror. Accordingly, he subscribed a call for a council to be opened at Constance, November 1, 1414. The attendance at the council was very large. The members, with their following, amounted to eighteen thousand. Among the dignitaries were three bearing 360 THE MEDIAEVAL CHURCH. the title of patriarch, thirty-three archbishops, nearly one hundred and fifty bishops, one hundred and twenty- four abbots, and about three hundred doctors of theol ogy and canon law. Many representatives of secular princes were also present. Altogether, the council brought to Constance and its neighborhood from fifty to a hundred and fifty thousand people. Within the council proper there was no doubt much diversity of temper and purpose. A considerable per centage of the membership was too closely allied with the corrupt system of the times to entertain any hearty sympathy with reform. But a very fair proportion were men imbued with a resolute intention to grapple with existing evils, and to put them under effectual restraint. The predominance of this better element was favored by the peculiar arrangement that the suf frage should be taken by nations, and should also be exercised by the doctors, and even by representatives of princes, as well as by bishops and abbots. This ar rangement diminished the relative weight of the Italian officials, the factor most liable to take the part of ob structionists. In dealing with the schism, the council was success ful. Early in its sessions, the view that all three claimants of the papacy must be required to abdicate came into the ascendant. Any disposition to recognize John XXIIL was hindered by reports of his criminal and dissolute practices. Finally, all charity toward him was cancelled by his flight from Constance, with the evident design to break up the council. He was therefore formally deposed (May 29, 1415). About a month later, Gregory XII. voluntarily abdicated. This POPES AND COUNCILS. 361 left Benedict XIII. alone in the way. As he stubbornly refused to yield his claim, he was declared deposed (July 26, 1417). The council now had matters in its own hands. Many were of the opinion that it ought to make the most of its opportunity ; that without wait ing to elect a pope, who would very likely block the wheels of reform, it should at once legislate against evils and abuses in the Church. Others argued that in such a work it was most fitting that a pope should co-operate with the council. The division on this sub ject was not very different from that which took place at a more decisive crisis a century later. The German and English nations were in favor of postponing the election of a pope. Their preference, however, was overborne by the representatives of the Italian and the Spanish nations, and in part by those of the French nation. The cardinals, in union with delegates from the several nations, were authorized to proceed to an election. The choice fell upon the Cardinal Colonna, known as Martin V. It required no great length of time to make it plain that the experience of Pisa was to be repeated. The council found that it had a rival in the Pope. There was no longer the unity which was requisite to deal successfully with questions of reform. The Pope was able, therefore, by entering into concordats with the nations separately, to quiet demands for the time being, at the expense of only moderate concessions. Among the more significant transactions at Constance was the definition by the council of its own preroga tives. These were set forth at the fifth session in the following explicit terms : " The Council of Constance, 362 THE MEDIJEVAL CHURCH. lawfully assembled in the name of the Holy Ghost, and forming an ecumenical council representing the Cath olic Church, has its power immediately from Jesus Christ, to which every person of whatever rank and dignity, the papal itself included, is bound to yield obedience in those things which concern the faith, the extirpation of the aforesaid schism, and the general ref ormation of the Church in its head and members. It likewise declares that if any one, of whatever condition, rank, or dignity, the papal itself included, shall contu maciously refuse obedience to the commands, statutes, ordinances, or precepts of this or any other ecumenical council legitimately assembled, in relation to the afore said matters acted upon or to be acted upon, unless he shall repent, shall be subjected to condign penance and be duly punished." 1 We have here a declaration that an ecumenical council is the superior of a pope in point of authority. To be sure, the opening words limit the reference to the Council of Constance ; but what follows extends the application to ecumenical councils generally. The unmistakable sense of the decree is that an ecumenical council, as such, has its authority immediately from Christ, and in both of the great departments of ecclesiastical supervision, namely, faith and administration, has a sovereignt)' to which that of the Pope is subordinate. This is acknowledged by so prominent a Roman Catholic writer as Alzog. " The fault of the Council of Constance," he says, " was this, that it set forth as a dogmatic sentence \_dogmatischer Grundsatz], valid for all time, that which was in a manner justified by the necessities of 1 Mansi, torn, xxvii. p. 590. POPES AND COUNCILS. 363 the occasion." 1 So far, then, as the voice of the council was concerned, the subordination of the Pope was dogmatically established at Constance. What more then was needed to give it a valid title to a place in Roman Catholic dogmatics? Even in the view of an Ultramontanist, nothing more could have been requisite than confirmation by the Pope. And this seems actually to have been given. Of course, it may be surmised that Martin V. was not fully reconciled to the notion of the council's superiority. But as he owed his own official elevation to the action of the council, he could not well assail its authority. Accord ingly, we have the record that he ratified whatever in matters of faith the council had done conciliariter, that is, in a regular session ; 2 and also required assent to its ecumenical character, as appears in the bull Inter Cunctas. Now, as has been intimated, the council's defi nition of its prerogatives was set forth as a dogmatic sentence or matter of faith. This, indeed, may be denied, but not without a certain inconvenience on the part of a Romanist. If the definition of the coun cil's prerogatives at Constance is not reckoned among matters of faith, then what is to be said of the defi nition of the Pope's prerogatives as rendered at the Vatican Council in 1870 ? It is not an easy matter, therefore, to exclude the application of the Pope's bull 1 Kirchengeschichte, § 271. 2 The text of the ratification as given by Mansi (session xlv.) is as fol lows : " Quibus sic factis sanctissimus dominus noster dixit respondendo ad pradicta, quod omnia et singula determinata, conclusa et decreta in materiis fldei per prasens concilium conciliariter, tenere et inviolabiliter observare volebat, et nunquam contravenire quoque modo. Ipsaque sic conciliariter facta approbat et ratificat, et non aliter, nee alio modo.'' 364 THE MEDIEVAL CHURCH. of confirmation from the famous decree of the fifth session. In truth, a few years later, at the Council of Basle, this bull was quoted as proving the superiority of the council over the Pope.1 Moreover, the action of this council, in confirming the decree "passed at Con stance, seems to have received the consent of Eugenius IV.2 In view of these facts, what judgment shall one pronounce upon the decree promulgated at the Vatican Council in behalf of the Pope's infallibility and un qualified supremacy? On the one hand stands the decree of the council and the confirmatory sentence of the Pope ; on the other hand, and in direct contra diction of the foregoing, stands the decree of the Pope and the consent of the council. Another decree should be noticed, as also exalting the importance of the general council as a factor in church constitution. At the thirty-ninth session it was provided that such a council should be held once in ten years. The independence which it was hoped this decree would secure for the council would evi dently be suited to make it a very formidable authority over against the Pope. In addition to healing the schism and inaugurating reform, the Council of Constance took up the task of extirpating heresy. Sentence was passed against the opinions of Wycliffe and Huss, and the latter was sent to the stake. A succeeding chapter will give the details of these transactions. We notice here only 1 See the excellent work of Lenfant, Histoire du Concile de Con stance. 2 Bossuet, quoted in our first volume of the Modern Church, pp. 473, 474. POPES AND COUNCILS. 365 the somewhat remarkable fact, that the men who came to Constance with the greatest zeal for reform had no sympathy at all for such a reformer as Huss. Men like Gerson and D'Ailly showed no inclination to befriend him. The pontificate of Martin V. covered the interval between the Council of Constance and that of Basle. Under him a measure of the lost prestige of the papacy was regained. The tenor of the effort and legislation at Constance was conveniently ignored, and the old line of papal prerogative and practice was pursued. Even that feature of papal administration which had become specially obnoxious, namely, its manifold modes of extortion, was not perceptibly ameliorated. Some of the most striking exposures respecting the insatia ble and unprincipled greed of the Pope and the curia which are on record pertain to the time of Martin V.1 The Council of Basle (1431-1449) was the last in the list of reform councils which a scandalized and awakened Church caused to be convened in this era. Its history is a history of struggle against the stubborn opposition of the papacy, a struggle which for a time was somewhat successful, but finally ended in defeat. The council was called by Martin V., whose death occurred at the opening. His successor, Eugenius IV., 1 See J. Voigt, Stimmen aus Rom fiber den p'apstlichen Hof im fiinf- zehnten Jahrhundert. The correspondence of the ambassadors of the Teutonic order which is therein quoted shows how little reverence was inspired by a close inspection of the papacy. In a communication of the year 1429 exhortation is given to despise the ban of the Pope in Ger many, as it was despised in other quarters. " Only we poor Germans," it is said, " imagine that the Pope is an earthly god ; we should figure to ourselves rather that he is an earthly devil, as in truth he is." 366 THE MEDIAEVAL CHURCH. distrusting his ability effectually to control an assembly in Basle, undertook, after a very brief interval, to trans fer it to Bologna, advancing various pretences to cover up his real motive. But this unreasonable and per verse attempt was met with proper resolution. The Cardinal Julian Caesarini, who had been appointed to preside over the council, answered the reasons alleged for a transfer, and showed that it would involve serious damage in various ways, and especially in breaking up the negotiations already set on foot for composing the Hussite troubles.1 In the assembled prelates gener ally, the spirit of independence was stirred up by the Pope's opposition. Without regard to his approbation the council was formally opened (Dec. 14, 1431). At the second session (Feb. 15, 1432), the decrees passed at Constance respecting the supreme authority of the council were renewed. In subsequent sessions the Pope was addressed as a subject rather than as a mas ter, and was commanded to revoke the decree of disso lution, and to present himself at Basle. For a time Eugenius IV. was disposed loftily to ignore all such demands. At length, however, impelled by the pre carious condition of his affairs in Italy, he consented to acknowledge the council, and sent legates to represent him in its sessions (1433). The assembly now assumed very worthy proportions, and, besides the plan of an agreement with the Hussites, some important measures were passed, such as the decrees limiting papal reser vations, abolishing annates, and opposing the hasty imposition of interdicts. This reform legislation, to gether with the position taken respecting the authority 1 Lenfant, Histoire de la Guerre des Hussites et du Concile de Basle. POPES AND COUNCILS. 367 of a general council, served as the basis of the " Prag matic Sanction " which was enacted by the French government in 1438. It was understood, even while there was no formal rupture between the Pope and the council, that he was really its enemy, and only needed a pretext to make manifest his hostility. Such a pretext was sup plied by the negotiation of a plan of union with the Greek Church. The council had hoped to secure the Greek delegates ; but the Pope, being sooner able to provide means of transportation, put them into relation with himself, and, on the plea that Basle was unsuited to the interest in hand, ordered the council, in 1437, to meet in Ferrara. In January of the following year, sessions were begun at the Italian city. Some months later, owing to the breaking out of a pestilence, Flor ence was made the seat of the Pope's synod ; and here the union project with the Greeks was carried forward to its consummation.1 Meanwhile, the Council of Basle asserted its authority, refused to be dissolved, declared Eugenius IV. deposed (1439), and installed as his suc cessor Felix V. But this bold action was not sustained by public feeling. The memory of the ordeal which had so long tried their endurance was too fresh in the minds of the nations for them to be pleased with a renewal of the papal schism. The nominee of the council found very little support, and was constrained to abdicate in 1449. In making an unsuccessful ven ture the council lost prestige, and served to strengthen the hands of its rival. During its later years it had scarcely more than a nominal existence. 1 Considered more fully in Chapter IX. 368 THE MEDIAEVAL CHURCH. IV. Nicolas V. (1447-1455) made a skilful use of the advantage bequeathed by the successful competi tion of his predecessor with the council. His pontifi cate, however, is less distinguished for political prestige than for literary renown. He was the first great patron of humanism. Entertaining the warmest appreciation for books and for authors, he spared no pains to enrich the libraries of Italy, and to encourage those engaged in literary tasks. With a zeal which seems like a prov idential adaptation to a great crisis, he sought to con serve the treasures of learning which fugitive Greeks were able to bear away from the Eastern capital as it fell, in 1453, before the Turks. The cultivated tastes of Nicolas V. were also exercised in the patronage of architecture. Costly churches and public edifices rose under his auspices. Among the larger projects of this kind which he contemplated, but left his successors to fulfil, was the rebuilding of St. Peter's. The fall of Constantinople gave occasion to a re newed effort to engage Europe in a crusade. This was a leading interest with Calixtus III. (1455-1458). It also fired the zeal of his successor, Pius II., insomuch that he finally added the force of example to urgent persuasions, and consumed his failing strength in an attempt to help forward in person the expedition against the Turks. Only an indifferent response, however, was made to the summons of either Pope. The spectacle of the nations uniting under the papal headship in a common undertaking had become forever a thing of the past. Too much money had gone into the papal treas ury on the pretence of being stored up for the recovery of the East, too long and painful an experience of POPES AND COUNCILS. 369 naked selfishness and worldly greed in the Popes had been endured, to allow their call to come to the nations with any moral power or effectual authority. Pius II. presents a marked example of the tendency of liberal principles to expire in the chair of Peter. As ^Eneas Sylvius he had been the lax humanist, the fortune-seeking litterateur, the keen observer of men and things, whose sketches gave a remarkably vivid picture of his times, the secretary whose eloquent speech sustained the Council of Basle against the Pope up to the later years of its protracted sessions. As Pius II. he was none of this. He was not even a patron of the humanists, and treated them with a coldness which caused them to sigh for the days of Nicolas V.1 As for the principles which had been published at Constance and Basle, the word execrabilis, which gives the name to a bull of his, is no inapt index of how they were re garded in his revised estimate. In this bull the sup position that an appeal may be made from the Pope to a higher tribunal is denounced in very emphatic terms. His zeal for the old order of papal claims came also to a conspicuous manifestation in the effort which he put forth to secure the abolition of the Pragmatic Sanc tion in France. Deluded by the hope of compensat ing advantages, Louis XL, in 1461, surrendered this charter of Gallican liberties, to the great disappoint ment of the nation.2 1 G. Voigt, Enea Silvio de Piccolomini, als Papst Pius II., und sein Zeitalter. 2 The Parliament refused to ratify the decree of abolition, and the matter was not regarded as so definitely settled but that new action was taken in the reign of Francis I. 24 370 THE MEDIMVAL CHURCH. The period extending from 1471 to 1503, and covered by the pontificates of Sixtus IV, Innocent VIII., and Alexander VI., was one of almost unparalleled infamy in the history of the papacy. A vicious system in the hands of vicious men bore fruits which might well bring the blush of shame to all interested in the good name of the Church. The system was not new, but its rankest growth fell at this time. Gregorovius de?, scribes it, with characteristic felicity of phrase, as fol lows: " With Sixtus IV. the priestly character of the Pope began to vanish, and that of territorial lord be came so prominent, that the successors of Peter in that era appeared as representatives of Italian dynasties, only accidentally holding the place of Popes and wearing the tiara in place of the ducal crown. The thoroughly worldly schemes to which the Popes now devoted themselves required more than ever the use of worldly means, such as financial speculations, traffic in offices and in matters of grace, unprincipled arts of state-craft, and the dominance of nepotism. Never before was nepotism driven with such recklessness. It became the principle of the entire administration of Sixtus IV. Nothing could wear a more singular appearance than did this illegitimate product in Rome. Papal protdg^s, in most instances the actual bastards of the Popes, Vatican princes, being brought upon the theatre of Roman affairs with every new incumbent of the papal office, advanced suddenly to power, tyrannized over Rome and over the Pope himself, contended for count- ships in a brief round of craft and intrigues against hereditary lords and cities, kept in good fortune often times only so long as the Pope lived, and founded, even POPES AND COUNCILS. 371 when their power went to pieces, new families of papal princes. Such adjuncts of the Popes gave expression to their personal sovereignty, and at the same time were the supports as well as the instruments of their worldly dominion, their trusted ministers and generals. Nepotism became the system of the Roman state ; it supplied the lacking principle of hereditary right ; it gave into the hands of the Pope an administration party, and also a means of offsetting the opposition of the cardinals." 1 The favor of Sixtus IV. to his nephews was like the sunshine of imperial favor to some fortunate parasite in the degenerate times of pagan Rome. They revelled in the enormous proceeds of accumulated benefices. Peter Riario, the younger of the nephews who were raised to the dignity of cardinal, had an income of 60,000 gold florins. Yet even this sum was inadequate to the demands of the senseless prodigality into which the unbalanced young man was plunged by the excite ment of his sudden elevation. Having wasted both himself and his fortune, he died greatly in debt at the age of twenty-eight. It needs hardly to be stated that what the Pope gave with one hand to such creatures he gathered by violent or questionable means with the other. Infessura may have written with some excess of asperity, as the rep resentative of an opposing party, but there is a large 1 Geschichte der Stadt Rom, vol. vii. Some have supposed that "nephew" was a euphemistic term in the vocabulary of more than one Pope. Thus Guicciardini makes note of the peculiar shamelessness of Alexander VI. in that he openly acknowledged his sons, whereas preceding Popes had veiled their disgrace by calling their sons nephews. (Istoria d' Italia, i. 25, 26.) 372 THE MEDIAEVAL CHURCH. element of credibility in his words, when he says that the mingled pomp and avarice, the vanity and extor tion, the faithlessness and tyranny, of the Pope earned for him a cordial hatred, and caused his death to be a signal for rejoicing. Perhaps the most odious of the transactions charged against Sixtus IV. was the part which he took in the conspiracy of the Pazzi against the Medici in Florence. In the execution of the atro cious plot, a murderous attack was made upon Julian and Lorenzo Medici during the time of service at church. Julian fell mortally wounded ; Lorenzo barely escaped a like fate. The conspirators expected that the populace would join them and approve their bloody work. But the contrary took place, and the instigators of the murder were visited with summary vengeance. The Pope's complicity in the attempted overthrow of the Medici is beyond question. He may not have coun selled the shedding of blood ; but there is no reason to believe that he was specially anxious to avoid it. The direction of his sympathies was sufficiently indicated by the anathemas which he thundered against the Florentines, because their wrath had broken over into a swift and unsparing judgment against the conspir ators.1 Innocent VIII. (1484-1492) abased the papacy no less than his predecessor. His great care was to pro mote and to enrich his numerous children.2 To this 1 Ludwig Pastor concludes that the Pope had cause to proceed against the Medici, but thinks it unfortunate that, instead of resorting to open war, he patronized a clandestine scheme for seizing the persons of the two brothers. (Geschichte der Papste seit dem Ausgang des Mittelalters, ii. 478-481.) 2 Infessura says that he had seven, born of different mothers. An POPES AND COUNCILS. 373 end, offices were sold with perfect shamelessness. Still further, the Pope sold himself to the arch-infidel, and engaged to serve as his jail-master. For the sum of forty thousand ducats annually he held the brother of the Sultan Bajazet a prisoner, instead of employing him, as a crusading zeal would have dictated, in weak ening the Sultan's power. How httle can be said in praise of this pontiff appears from the following words of Alzog : " His efforts to destroy the last remnants of the Hussite heresy, and also to uproot the practice of magic and witchcraft, belong to the better ecclesiastical measures of Innocent VIII." 1 How many hundreds of innocent persons were miserably destroyed as re puted witches by reason of the infatuated zeal which the superstitious bulls of this Pope fostered, it would be difficult to estimate. Alexander VI. (1492-1503), representing the Spanish family of Borgia, stands by general consent for the cli max of papal wickedness.2 The bribery by which he epigram of the times has been understood by some to teach that he had sixteen. It runs as follows : " Octo Nocens pueros genuit, totidem puellas, Hunc merito poterit dioere Roma patrem." Cardinal Hergenrother gives the stages of his evolution toward the papacy as follows : first father, then husband, then widower, then priest. (Conciliengeschichte, Fortsetzung, § 860.) 1 Karchengeschichte, § 273. 2 It is true that some adventurous apologists have attempted to white wash even this Pope. But the task is a melancholy one. As Pastor af firms, in the light of documentary evidence, the case is so decisive against Alexander VL that any attempt to rescue his character is perfectly fu tile. (Geschichte der Papste, i. 588, 589.) Cardinal Hergenrother seems to have settled upon the same conclusion. (Conciliengeschichte Fort setzung, §§ 865, 873.) 374 THE MEDIEVAL CHURCH. secured his election,1 and the adulterous connection which gave him five children, were not perhaps in those days tokens of extraordinary turpitude. They were rather the snare by which the aged Borgia was pre cipitated into an unequalled abyss. The crime by which the validity of his election had been hazarded was a spur to strengthen himself all the more energeti cally by grasping every political advantage in his reach. His love for his children and insatiate thirst to advance them to princely greatness overcame every sentiment of righteousness and shame. The most abhorrent ex pedients of his predecessors for accumulating money took on enlarged proportions. As an old epigram has it, " Vendit Alexander claves, altaria, Christum." Distinguished Roman families were despoiled on false pretences. The property of dead cardinals was seized in exercise of the " right of spoils," and some of the more wealthy were believed to have been poisoned to hasten the appropriation of their goods. Rome was in fact terrorized and Christendom ruled in the interest of the bastards of a Pope, who was supposed to be, in virtue of his position, the champion of priestly celibacy. Alexander VI., no doubt, was greatly helped on the road to infamy, and urged beyond his real inclination, by the evil demon of his pontificate, his son, Caesar Borgia. The father became really the servant. In Caesar was a spirit which brooked no rival and stopped at no arti fice. To gain an open wa}' to the goal of his ambitions, 1 Guicciardini says he purchased openly the votes of cardinals by offers of money or positions. (Istoria d' Italia, i. 11.) POPES AND COUNCILS. 375 he murdered his brother, the Duke of Gandia, and caused his body to be cast into the Tiber.1 So, at least, many in that age believed ; and while the nature of the case does not allow of absolute proof, the corre spondence between the criminal audacity of the assas sination and the known character of Caesar makes it difficult to exclude the suspicion that his hand was stained with a brother's blood. The murder of his brother-in-law, the husband of his sister Lucretia, he undoubtedly brought about, and that under circum stances of great atrocity. These and other crimes were not unknown to the Pope. But from a sense of in ability to cope with his son, as also probably from a certain satisfaction in his powerful diabolism, he over looked his deeds of blood. As Caesar, after being raised to the dignity of cardinal, resigned the ecclesiastical state, the Pope warmly seconded his efforts to establish himself as a secular prince. The petty principalities in the estates of the Church were overthrown. A more thorough subjugation of this territory was made than had before been effected. Caesar as Duke of the Ro- magna had everything under his hand. But the ill-gotten power vanished sooner than it was 1 For a narrative of all the known details see Joannes Burchardus, Diarium sive Rerum Urbanarum Commentarii (Jun., 1497). The story indicates a prevalence of crime not a little appalling. The boatman who saw the body thrown into the river did not think it necessary to report the matter, as being only one of a hundred instances which had come under his own observation, and about which no inquiry had been made. " Interrogaverunt pontificis servitores cur ipse Georgius tantum crimen non revelasset gubernatori urbis ; respondet se vidisse, suis diebus, cen tum in diversis noctibus varie occisos in flumen projici per locum pre- dictum, et nunquam aliqua eorum ratio habita fuit; propterea de causa hujusmodi estimationem aliquam non fecisse." 376 THE MEDIAEVAL CHURCH. acquired. A banquet, at which the Pope, Caesar, and a cardinal were present, was followed by the severe sickness of all three, — a fact giving some ground for the suspicion of poison. The Pope died. Caesar in his disabled condition could not manage the transition to a new administration in his own interest. His power waned from day to day. A year after the death of his father he was a prisoner in Spain. After two years of confinement, he escaped to the King of Navarre, in whose service he fell in 1507. The benefit of Caesar Borgia's conquests fell to Ju lius II. If the one object of Alexander VI. had been to advance his children, the one object of Julius II. was to build up and to strengthen the temporal sover eignty of the Pope. A more warlike pontiff never sat in the chair of Peter. His ambition, if more respect able than that of his immediate predecessors, was yet altogether worldly. Whatever the gain may have been which his policy brought to the papacy, it involved in the issue great hazard and loss. The entanglements of the Popes as temporal lords and political manoeu- vrers gave large opportunities to the great revolt from the Roman Church. Leo X. (1513-1521), if he shared little in the martial temper of Julius, was equally secular in tone. In place of military strategy he put the arts of diplomacy. By such means he gained no less an advantage than the abolition of the Pragmatic Sanction in France. Poli tics and literature filled up his horizon. A liberal pa tron of the learned, fond of sumptuous fStes, intent only upon worldly advantage, he did nothing to appease that growing demand for reform which at length in his POPES AND COUNCILS. 377 pontificate broke forth with irresistible energy, and began to revolutionize the face of Europe. The review which has been given of the papacy in the preceding pages affords naturally a partial ground of inference as to the state of the clergy in general. While their chiefs were giving such examples of world liness and license, it could not be expected that the great body of ecclesiastics would be models of self- denial, sobriety, and devoutness. In fact, there is a sad accumulation of testimony respecting the corrup tions and misdeeds of the clergy. With special fre quency is the charge of incontinence urged against them. In satires, in serious protests, in legislation, in compromises, in despairing comments, the evidence is heaped up to a superfluity of proof that the law of celibacy was, to a very large extent, either a nullity or an occasion of infamous laxity. The scandal of cleri cal license engaged the attention of such fourteenth century writers as Langland and Chaucer.1 The Uni versity of Oxford, in a list of articles respecting the reformation of the Church put forth in 1414, charac terized the licentious lives of the clergy as a thing most opprobrious to the Church and damaging to morals.2 A doctor of divinity at the Council of Constance de clared that the unchastity of the prelates was a matter of common fame.3 Pope Nicolas V. was obliged to confess that the clergy seemed hardly to regard incon- 1 See "Piers Ploughman " and " The Persones Tale." 2 Wilkins, Concilia, iii. 364, 365. 3 "Versum est in proverbium quod praclati tot nutriunt meretrices quot familiares." 378 THE MEDIAEVAL CHURCH. tinence as sin. In some quarters a proper regard for the purity of their homes led the people to demand that their priests should have concubines. Record of such a demand is found in connection with Spain and some of the Swiss Cantons.1 Nicolas de Clemangis says that it was insisted upon in a large proportion of the parishes in his time ; 2 and Theodoric a Niem speaks of the Scandinavian bishops not only as living openly in concubinage, but as requiring their priests to do likewise. How great a despair of successful dealing with the evil was felt is indicated by the fact, that both in the Council of Constance and that of Basle eminent men gave their voice in favor of abolishing the law of celibacy. In the monasteries, there were many instances of a like turpitude. Nothing could be more revolting than the state of things at the renowned cloister of St. Al bans, as described by the Archbishop of Canterbury in a monitory letter to the abbot.3 According to Nicolas de Clemangis, matters had reached such a pass in the cloisters of women that to take the veil was to run im minent peril of a life of prostitution.4 A reformation " in head and members," to use the oft-repeated phrase of the councils of this era, was plainly an imperative demand. It was to the credit of 1 H. C. Lea, Sacerdotal Celibacy. 2 De Ruina Ecclesiae, cap. xxii. 8 Wilkins, Concilia, iii. 632, anno 1490. * " Quid, obsecro, aliud sunt hoc tempore puellarum monasteria, nisi quaedam, non dico Dei sanctuaria, sed veneris execranda prostibula, sed lascivorum et impudicorum juvenum ad libidines explendas receptacula ; ut idem hodie sit puellam velare, quod ad publice scortandum exponere." (De Ruina Ecclesiae, cap. xxxvi., apud Von der Hardt.) POPES AND COUNCILS. 379 the age that to so large a degree it struggled to fulfil this demand. It was to the credit of a great multitude of earnest men and women, that in the midst of wide spread degeneracy they kept themselves unspotted from the world. Forms like that of the saintly Catharine of Siena (1347-1380) appear all the brighter because of the sombre background.1 1 See the graceful characterization by Gregorovius, vi. 509-511. CHAPTER III. REPRESENTATIVES OF CRITICISM AND REFORM. THE above title does not refer to those currently termed " Reformers before the Reformation." Succeeding chapters will give to these that special consideration which their importance demands. We have here to make note of several individuals, who, without earning the technical designation, showed some thing of the critical insight, and in some cases some thing also of the moral earnestness, which are necessary in reformers. "~~ "— -¦- Near the beginning of the period, the high papal claims of Boniface VIII. called forth some noteworthy specimens of criticism. Two men in particular sig nalized themselves by the freedom of their comments, namely, iEgidius of Rome and John of Paris, the for mer an Augustinian monk who became Archbishop of Bourges, the latter a Dominican theologian. .ZEgidius argues that the Pope's jurisdiction is confined to the spiritual domain, and that he is guilty of usurpation against the prerogatives of princes when he assumes control of secular affairs. His place as the vicar of Christ should be regarded as enforcing this limitation. For Christ renounced earthly dominion. When the peo ple wished to make Him king, He fled from them ; and CRITICISM AND REFORM. 381 when one asked His decision upon a temporal matter, He declined judgment in such things as being foreign to His vocation. His instructions also to His disciples imply that He wished them to keep equally free from the entanglements of the world. The conclusion that he who is so exalted as to have dominion in things spiritual must be, with still better right, lord over things temporal, is based on a sophism. Only in respect of things belonging to the same order can we conclude from the greater to the less ; otherwise, it would follow that he who is a physician of souls must needs be at the same time a physician of bodies. Similar statements are found with John of Paris. The Pope's prerogative in things temporal he confines to a chief share in the management of ecclesiastical goods. In this management, as he teaches, the Pope is by no means to be counted irresponsible. He can be called to give an account of his stewardship. In case of serious abuse he can be deposed, even as a bishop or abbot can be deposed. In relation to tem poral princes, the Pope has only spiritual weapons at his command. It may be allowable for him to use such for the overthrow of an unworthy ruler ; but it is to be understood that a reciprocal right and duty lie with the temporal ruler, it being incumbent upon him to use his temporal power to depose a Pope who is clearly unfit for his position. The plea that the Pope is beyond reach of human judgment, since the spiritual man is judged by none, is groundless ; for the Scriptures affirm the exemption of the man who is truly spiritual, and not of one who merely holds a so called spiritual office. In relation to other members of the hierarchy, the Pope 382 THE MEDIAEVAL CHURCH. has only a qualified supremacy. They are there by right of original appointment, as well as he, and their functions are not to be regarded as a grant from him. " The power of the inferior prelates," says John of Paris, " is not from God through the medium of the Pope, but immediately from God, and from the suffrage and consent of the people. For Peter, of whom the Pope is the successor, did not send the other apostles, whose successors are the other bishops ; nor the seventy- two disciples whose successors are the presbyters. But Christ sent them immediately. Nor did Peter breathe upon the other apostles, to give them the Holy Spirit, and power to remit sins ; but Christ breathed on them. Paul also says that he received the apostolate not from Peter, but immediately from Christ, or from God." Like Dante, John of Paris, accepting the fact of Con- stantine's donation, denied its validity. Still bolder specimens of criticism appeared a few decades later. A principal occasion for these was found in the fierce onslaught against the German Em peror which was begun by John XXII. An additional stimulus to criticism was also supplied to a very zealous class by this Pope, inasmuch as he decided against the Franciscans of the Stricter Observance, and, much to their disgust, supported the distinction between usu fruct and proper possession of goods. Among the writings which the agitations of the times called forth; the most important place belongs to the Defensor Pads. The author is understood to have been Marsilius of Padua, at one time Rector of the Paris University. The Franciscan John of Janduno may have rendered him assistance. CRITICISM AND REFORM. 383 The tone and contents of the Defensor Pads are well- nigh matters for surprise. Propositions and arguments which are commonly associated with the sixteenth cen tury we find here, before the days of Wycliffe, ex pressed with the utmost distinctness.1 The author takes pains to assert a relative independence for the State. To this end, he teaches that the New Testa ment, unlike the Old, does not mix the civil and the religious. It is occupied rather with religious teach ings, and no more attempts to regulate directly the civil relations of men, than it does to give instruction in medicine, mathematics, or navigation. The object of the State is to secure the good of men as members of a temporal order ; the object of the Church is to instruct and to assist men as members of a supernatural order. In its own sphere the State is not to be coerced or hindered. To it belongs the whole system of cor poral punishments. If it chooses to proscribe heresy within its limits, it may inflict temporal punishments upon heretics. The Church cannot dictate its policy in this matter, and must be content with visiting its own penalties, namely, those of an ecclesiastical nature, of which the maximum is excommunication. The tem poral jurisdiction of the State is properly regarded as extending over all its subjects, the clerical as well as the lay. The immunity from civil jurisdiction claimed by the former should not be granted, as such immunity is a fruitful source of crimes, and is incompatible with the interests of civil society. The allegiance of sub jects is not to be tampered with by ecclesiastical man- 1 " If any one was a forerunner of Luther and Calvin," says Ludwig Pastor, " it was Marsilius." (Geschichte der Papste, i. 69.) 384 THE MEDIAEVAL CHURCH. dates. The authority which assumes to cancel the obligation of oaths, though calling itself apostolic, is rather to be described as devilish. The priestly pre rogative of binding and loosing belongs within the spiritual domain, and even there has its important lim itations. God alone, properly speaking, can forgive sins ; the priest can only adjust the penitent's ecclesi astical relations, not his essential relations with God. In dealing with the theory of the papacy the author takes out the whole foundation. The words of the Gospel, " Upon this rock I will build my Church," he applies not to the confessing. Peter, but to the Christ confessed. He rejects the plea that without the Pope the Church would be without a head, claiming that Christ is the head, who has promised to be with His Church to the end of the world. He denies that Peter had any primacy of authority among the apostles, and maintains that, even if such a primacy had been con ferred upon him, it is perfectly gratuitous to assume that it was transmitted by him to the Roman bishop. On the basis of Scripture, as he takes pains to assert, it is far from clear that Peter was ever in Rome, and the bishop of that city might more appropriately be termed a successor of Paul than of Peter. So far was the papacy from being a part of the original constitution of the Christian Church, that at first there was not even a distinction between presbyters and bishops. The power of the Roman bishop was gradually acquired, and resulted from the prominence naturally pertaining to the chief pastor in the capital of the world. His authority rests upon convention, and is far from final. The Scriptures, as interpreted by the great body of CRITICISM AND REFORM. 385 Christians in successive generations, are the supreme authority. Among vehicles for expressing the mind of Christians the general council takes precedence. Having thus assailed the theory of the papacy, the author proceeds with like boldness to attack its practice. His picture of the Roman court is drawn with an un sparing hand. " Those," says he, " who have crossed the threshold of the Roman curia, or, to speak more correctly, the house of merchandise, the abominable haunt of robbers, know full well that it is the refuge of all the vicious, who drive a trade with things spiritual and temporal. For what -else does one find there except a concourse of Simonists from all quarters? What else but the clamors of advocates, the machinations of those who feed on strifes and on persecutions of the righteous ? The cause of the innocent is likely there to be decided against them, or, unless they can expedite it by means of gold, to be postponed so long that, finally exhausted, wearied out by innumerable hardships, they are compelled to abandon their cause, though it be just and worthy of commiseration." William Occam, the English Franciscan, who entered into close relations with the German Emperor and used his pen in his behalf, wrote with less openness than Marsilius. Imbued with something of a predilection for a subtle method, he brought forward arguments on both sides of the subject. But still the drift of his discus sion is sufficiently clear. Among the most important of the points which he makes against the papal pre rogatives in things temporal is the impertinence of the appeal, continually made by the Popes, to the theocratic system of the Old Testament. Christianity, he says, 25 386 THE MEDIMVAL CHURCH. even as Pilate had the penetration to discover from the words of Christ, is not a kingdom of this world. The New Testament economy has not the same relations to the State as had the Old Testament economy, so that the latter cannot be taken as a precedent. " In this distinction," says Neander, " between the Old and the New Testament point of view, we see a downfall pre pared for the theocratic system of the middle ages." Reference to the papal schism has already given oc casion to note how the voice of criticism and reform claimed a hearing in the early part of the fifteenth cen tury. Among the men of that era whose character and opinions entitle them to the largest consideration were Nicolas de Clemangis, John Gerson, and Peter d'Ailly. The first of these was little inclined to in novation in doctrine or polity. His boldness was prin cipally exercised in a moral censorship. In his De Ruina Ecclesice he uncovers the evils of the times with a remorseless fidelity. All classes, from the Pope down, are represented as coworking by their worldli ness, their avarice, and, in a large proportion of eases, their shameless vice, to bring in the abomination of desolation. As a remedy for this woful condition, Clemangis emphasized a general turning unto God in heart and life. He had but moderate confidence in the special expedients which engaged the zeal of some of his distinguished contemporaries. Even a general council seemed to him to hold out little promise of good, unless the prelates should assemble in a spirit vastly different from that by which most of them seemed to be animated. The Church, he argued, de served the humiliation and affliction which had over- CRITICISM AND REFORM. 387 taken it, on account of the crying iniquities of its members, and ought not to expect the cloud of divine wrath to be lifted until works meet for repentance had been brought forth. His watchword, in fine, was moral and religious reform, as the essential preliminary to peace and unity in the Church. In Gerson we may note something of the same deep religious vein as in Clemangis. Indeed, he is properly classed among the representatives of mystical piety, among the successors of the Victorines and of Bona ventura. The traits, however, which warrant this clas sification were most conspicuous in his closing years. In the middle period of his life he was a foremost actor upon the theatre of public events. He had a great interest in practical expedients for healing the schism and reforming the Church. As connected with these ends, he was much concerned with questions of. church constitution. His leading views upon these questions have already been indicated, inasmuch as they found expression in the decisions of the Councils of Pisa and Constance, especially the latter. The position which he took, as appears in his work De Modis Uniendi ac Reformandi Eeclesiam, was by no means identical with that of Marsilius. He was disposed to look upon the hierarchy, with its different ranks, as a divinely sanc tioned and permanent arrangement. He assigned an important place to the Pope, only claiming that he must not be regarded as endowed with an unqualified and irresponsible authority. The Pope, he said, cannot properly be called the head of the Church ; that desig nation belongs to Christ ; the Pope is rather a foremost member, and as such may be styled the vicar of Christ. 388 THE MEDIEVAL CHURCH. Under ordinary circumstances, he holds the place of chief executive. The Church, however, can tempora rily dispense with his rule, and suffer no serious detri ment. His right is not indefeasible. As being a falli ble man, he can err both in faith and practice, and that to a degree which may threaten to subvert the interests of the Church. In such a case he may be deposed. The good of a single realm may justify the dethroning of an hereditary prince ; much more then may the good of Christendom justify the deposing of a pontiff who holds his place in virtue of an election. An incor rigible Pope is to be dealt with according to the rule of conduct toward a sinning brother, as laid down in the Gospel. If, after suitable effort to bring him to a better mind, he does not show repentance and amend ment, he is to be treated as a heathen man and a publican. The prerogatives of his office cannot be regarded as independent of character and conduct. " That a mortal man should claim the power of binding and loosing in heaven and on earth, while yet he is a son of perdition, given to simony, avarice, mendacity, unjust exaction, and fornication, proud, pompous, and worse than the devil, is ridiculous." The pastoral office, the prerogative to feed sheep, was given to Peter on condition of love to Christ. Love to Christ is made known by suitable works. He who does the works of the devil may well be regarded as forfeiting the pastoral office. The proper tribunal for dealing with an unworthy and intractable Pope is the general assembly of Christians, the ecumenical council. Such a council may be called without the consent of the Pope ; and indeed, where his title is in question, he can- CRITICISM AND REFORM. 389 not properly be regarded as having the right either to dictate the place of meeting or to preside over the ses sions. The council, notwithstanding the lack of the papal presidency, has plenary authority. Such consti tutions, canons, or decrees as it may be pleased to enact are of binding force, so that in no wise does it lie within the option of the Pope to neutralize or im pair them by his dispensations. The leadership of Gerson ended with the Council of Constance. His spirits were not a little dashed by the poor success of the council in the matter of reform. Moreover, he found it unsafe to resume his position as Chancellor of the University of Paris, since his resolute opposition to the doctrine of tyranncide had earned him the hatred of the powerful Duke of Burgundy. He passed, therefore, from Constance into Bavaria. After the death of the Duke of Burgundy, in 1419, he took up his abode in the city of Lyons, where he died in 1429. The Cardinal Peter d'Ailly, a disciple of Gerson, was a leading spirit in the Council of Constance. He coincided in general with Gerson's teaching respecting the prerogatives of the council, and pressed for a re form of abuses.1 In the time of the Council at Basle we meet with a type of literature little known to the middle ages, a genuine specimen of historical criticism. This came 1 On the writers thus far noticed in this chapter, Gieseler and Nean- der afford very full information. The text of the Defensor Pads is found in Goldastus, Monarchia, Roman. Imp. Von der Hardt's collec tion of documents relating to the Council of Constance gives the writ ings of Clemangis, Gerson, and D'Ailly bearing on questions of reform and church constitution. 390 THE MEDIAEVAL CHURCH. from the hand of Laurentius Valla, and consisted in a disproof of the famous donation of Constantine, that fable concocted in the eighth century. It was shown by the critic, from the phrases of the document pur porting to donate the Western Empire to the Pope, from the lack of reference to it in early history, and from the fact that no Pope had ever been in possession of the power alleged to have been conferred, that the document could not be genuine.1 Valla also declared for the spuriousness of the Epistle of Abgarus to Christ, and contended that the so called Apostles' Creed could not have been composed by the joint agency of the whole college of apostles. Exploits of this kind in the field of criticism natu rally aroused the guardians of the faith. Valla was brought before the Inquisition. The good offices of Alfonso, King of Naples, saved him from a capital in fliction, and he made his escape at the expense of the humiliating ordeal of scourging. Subsequently, he chose to tread in less perilous ways. His literary talents commended him to Nicolas V., and under the favors of this pontiff the voice of the critic was effect ually silenced. 1 Nicolas of Cusa had already expressed doubts about the genuine ness of the donation of Constantine, and, independently of Valla, the English bishop, Reginald Pecock, near the middle of the fifteenth cen tury, attempted a disproof on historical grounds. (Pastor, Geschichte der Papste, i. 16.) CHAPTER IV. THE WALDENSES. THE origin of the Waldenses is traced back with sufficient certainty to the third quarter of the twelfth century. The founder was Peter Waldo, a rich merchant of Lyons. Being directed to serious thought by the sudden death of an acquaintance, he concluded to apply to himself the advice which Christ gave to the rich young man. Accordingly, he distributed his wealth to the poor. At the same time, the little knowl edge of Scripture which he had gained from the ser vices of the Church excited his desire for a more thorough introduction to the Bible. To gratify his ambition in this direction he employed the labors of two men, who made translations for him into the ver nacular. What he learned in this way he felt impelled to impart to others, many of whom in their turn became teachers. So an association of Bible readers and ex pounders was formed, which through an ever widening circle endeavored to instruct the common people in the truths of Holy Writ. In the above we have the substance of several medi aeval accounts respecting the rise of the Waldenses. One of these is from Reinerus, or rather from the hand of a later writer, who added to the treatise which the 392 THE MEDIAEVAL CHURCH. Dominican inquisitor had written near the middle of the thirteenth century. " Observe," says the writer, "that the sect of the Poor Men of Lyons, who are also called Leonists, arose in the following manner. Once, when the principal citizens were assembled in Lyons, it happened that one of them died suddenly in the presence of the company ; whereby one of them was so much alarmed that he immediately distributed a large property to the poor. And from this cause a great multitude flocked to him, whom he instructed to be imitators of Christ and the apostles." 1 Stephanus de Borbone, a Dominican of the thirteenth century, gives a similar account of the beginning of the sect, stating that thejr were called either Valdenses from the first author of their heresy, who was named Valdensis, or Poor Men of Lyons, because they first began in that city the profession of poverty. He says he had his information from many persons who had seen the earlier members of the sect, and more especially from the priests who served Peter Waldo in the work of trans lation. On this last point his narrative is as follows: " A certain rich man of the said city called Valdensis, hearing the Gospels, and not having much learning, yet being desirous to know what they contained, made an agreement with the said priests, that the one should translate into the vulgar tongue, and that the other should write what he dictated ; and this they did. In 1 Contra Waldenses, cap. v., Max. Bib. Vet. Patrum, torn. xxv. See also the same and other documents in R. S. Maitland's volume on the Albigenses and Waldenses. Only chapter vi. in the " Contra Wal denses " is legitimately attributed to Reinerus. (Dollinger, Sektenge- schichte, i. 117.) THE WALDENSES. 393 like manner [they translated] many books of the Bible, and authorities of the fathers which they called Sen tences." He adds : " This sect began about the year of our Lord 1170, under John, surnamed Bolesmanis, Archbishop of Lyons."1 The account which is im properly attributed to Petrus de Pilichdorf, though differing in some items, points to the same general con clusion respecting the origin of the Waldenses. It appears from the accounts ascribed to Reinerus and Pilichdorf, that a rumor was current at a quite early date embodying the notion that the Waldensian type of sectaries had been in the Church ever since the time of Constantine and Pope Sylvester.2 The former of the two accounts seems to give a certain credit to the rumor, inasmuch as it makes the sect of Leonists older than the other sects mentioned. But in the very next chapter we have the language quoted above, accord ing to the plain import of which the rich merchant of Lyons, who lived in the twelfth century, was the founder of the Leonists or Waldenses. It must be sup posed, therefore, that in the reference to the antiquity of the sect the writer was not thinking of a definite party occupying a distinct territory, but only of the supposition that views very similar to those of the new sectaries had long since found adherents; otherwise, he stands in glaring contradiction with himself, that is, if it be supposed that the same person wrote both chapters. As for Pilichdorf (so called) he utterly discredits the 1 Quoted by Maitland. 2 The writing attributed to Pilichdorf belongs to the year 1395 (Edouard Montet, Histoire Litteraire des Vaudois du Piemont, p. 150.) 394 THE MEDIAEVAL CHURCH. rumor, declaring the claim to a remote antiquity an in vention for deceiving the simple. " They lie when they say that their sect has existed from the time of Pope Sylvester." 1 His testimony indicates that among the Waldenses themselves the tradition of a remote origin early found place, and it is understood that they continued through the following centuries to cherish the same tradition. This leaves the association which gathered about the merchant of Lyons to be explained either as an offshoot from a more ancient association, or as an independent growth, which soon coalesced with a more ancient organization. Where is that more ancient association supposed to have had its seat? In the Cot- tian Alps, the rugged country of Piedmont, the home of the Vaudois, lying between Turin on the east and Grenoble on the west. There, says the tradition, dwelt a people who were preserved from the corruptions which riches brought into the Church directly after its alliance with the State, — a people who kept the faith in its purity. Some modern writers have raised this tra dition to the rank of indubitable fact. What could be more positive in tone than the following, which appears in the preface of quite an elaborate treatise ? " From the apostolic age itself down to the present, that vener able Church has been seated in the valleys of the Cot- tian Alps. There it has never ceased to profess one and the same unvarying theological system, thus faith fully reflecting the sincere unadulterated gospel of primi tive Christianity ; and there, both ecclesiastically and morally, the practice of its members has happily cor- 1 Contra Sectam Waldensium, cap. i., Max. Bib. Vet. Fatrum, torn. xxv. THE WALDENSES. 395 responded with their religious profession."1 Such a miracle, if it is well authenticated, certainly deserves to be recognized, for nowhere else can a proper parallel be found. The Cottian Alps alone have been witness to a body of Christians who for eighteen centuries have professed one and the same unvarying theological system. A church of this description is simply a church on paper. Very likely some of the tenets which entered into the ultimate system of the Waldensian faith claimed the sympathies of individual minds all through the cen turies. Very possibly the region of Piedmont had its full share of such minds. One can easily imagine that the bold strictures which Claudius of Turin had passed upon the worship of images and saints left their trace in the sentiments of the people on the neighboring heights. But the theory that the complete Waldensian system had been in force in this region from the early centuries is a baseless fancy. The tradition is easily enough accounted for. The declaration that this or that opinion was no novelty, that it had been enter tained long ago, could easily serve as a basis for a popular conviction that the earlier generations in that region had in general anticipated the faith of the later. Indeed, if the Waldenses had anything like the desire to strengthen their position by the sanctions of an tiquity which has animated some recent parties, such a development could have been prevented only by special care. The tradition, then, as being one that might easily find place, is more than offset by the enor mous improbability that for a period of many centuries i G. S. Faber, An Inquiry into the History and Theology of the Ancient Vallenses and Albigenses. 396 THE MEDIAEVAL CHURCH. the searching inspection of Rome should not have dis covered a distinctively anti-Romish sect, and that her writers should have recorded nothing which clearly sup poses its existence.1 The few uncritical references to a remote antiquity which are found with Roman Catholic writers in the fourteenth century or later have but little weight ; and the evidence for the early date of the sect which the Vaudois writings have been supposed to contain has not been able to endure a critical inves tigation.2 At the beginning of their career the Waldenses had no idea of antagonizing the Romish Church. Their movement was practical rather than doctrinal. They considered themselves as laboring within the Church in behalf of an earnest and self-denying piety. The only innovation which they indulged lay in the stress which they placed upon familiarity with the Scriptures and the privilege of laymen to act as teachers and preachers. They had no intention to set aside the regular priesthood, but to afford a much needed supple- 1 It may be noted that Martin, in his " Histoire de France," refers to a chronicle, written in the first half of the twelfth century, which speaks of the inhabitants of the upper Alpine valleys as soiled with an inveter ate heresy. But this is no statement that they eschewed Romanism in toto, or cherished the complete Waldensian belief. 2 For this side of the subject see Montet, Histoire Litteraire des Vaudois du Piemont. It is the conclusion of Montet, that some of the Vaudois writers have allowed their zeal for the legend of the apostolic doctrine and origin of their sect to get the better of their honesty : " Malheureusement on ne se borna point a enregistrer la legende ; plu- sieurs ecrivains vaudois, peu scrupuleux, ne craignirent point, dans le but de re"tayer, de falsifier les textes vaudois ante"rieurs a la Reformation, et meme, fait inou'i, plusieurs documents contemporains de la Reforme protestante.'' THE WALDENSES. 397 ment to the priestly ministrations. How far they were from designing a schism is evident from the fact, that, when they were commanded by the Archbishop of Lyons to cease from preaching, they appealed to Rome, and asked Alexander III., in 1179, to confirm their association, that they might continue their work as a recognized instrumentality of the Church. This request was denied. But so strong was the conviction of the Waldenses respecting their providen tial vocation, that they persisted in their labors. The papal condemnation followed, and the violence of per secution was soon felt. The bonds with Rome being thus in large part sundered, the Waldenses were free to reap the natural result of their diligent study of the Scriptures. Various peculiarities of the Romish system were renounced. The development in this direction was not uniform. It is difficult, therefore, to give a statement of belief which will apply to the whole sect in the earlier stages of its history. According to the pseudo Reinerus, they maintained that a teaching which cannot be proved by the text of Scripture is without authority ; that the Church had repeated the offence of the Pharisees by imposing the yoke of its traditions ; that certain ceremonies ordinarily connected with bap tism should be abolished ; that a priest in mortal sin could not celebrate the sacrament of the eucharist, and that transubstantiation does not take place in the hand of such a priest, but rather in the mouth of him who worthily receives ; that indulgences are to be rejected ; that a bad priest cannot absolve, while a good layman has the power of absolving ; that every good layman is a priest ; that confirmation, extreme unction, and orders 398 THE MEDIAEVAL CHURCH. are not to be counted sacraments; that the marriage of the clergy ought not to be prohibited ; that the worship of saints and their relics, as also of images and pictures, is illegitimate ; that Purgatory is a fiction ; that many of the rites and observances of the Church are unprofitable and idle ; that a Christian should not take an oath.1 It may be doubted whether the Waldenses generally went so far in their deviation from the Romish system as some of these specifications would indicate, until a comparatively late date. Various of their opponents are found to have credited them with a belief in the seven sacraments, and with holding the major part of the Catholic faith.2 Among the earliest of their doc trinal innovations were the limitations which they placed upon the sovereignty of the hierarchy ; also their denial of purgatory, together with the associated tenets re specting masses, prayers, and alms for the dead. Even after their doctrinal divergence had become quite pronounced, the Waldenses did not, at least uni versally, renounce all connection with the Romish Church. We read that in various places they attended the services of the Romish priests, and allowed their children to be baptized by them. Those in Lombardy advanced soonest to an independent position. The Waldenses seem to have spread with consider able rapidity in the earlier part of their history. Before 1 The pseudo Reinerus gives the Waldenses a relatively good char acter. " While all other sects," he says, " induce horror in the listener by their monstrous blasphemies against God, this of the Leonists has a great appearance of piety, in that they live justly before men, entertain a worthy belief respecting God, and hold all the articles contained in the symbol." (Cap. iv.) 2 Dollinger, Sektengeschichte, ii. 93. THE WALDENSES. 399 the end of the twelfth century they were found in Spain and Northern Italy. In the first half of the next century they had touched various points in Germany. By the opening of the fourteenth century so many had settled in the Cottian Alps, as a refuge from persecu tion, that the advisability of sending out colonies was discussed, and parties were despatched to Calabria and other districts of Italy. In the fifteenth century some of the persecuted accepted the invitation of the Bohe mian Brethren, and settled in their country. This led to interchange of communications between the Breth ren and the Vaudois, or the Waldenses in Piedmont ; in consequence of which the latter were confirmed and encouraged in their views, or carried forward to a more distinctly anti-Romish position.1 Comparative immunity was enjoyed by the Walden ses, for a considerable interval, in the mountain retreat which served as the head-quarters of their communion. But in the latter part of the fifteenth century they began to share in the fiery trial which was appointed to those who raised a protest against Rome. In an swer to a summons sent forth in 1487 by Innocent VIII., a powerful army crossed their borders both on the Italian and the French side. In the first encounters the ill prepared inhabitants suffered defeat, and their lands were subjected to grievous devastation. But the comparative ignorance of the invaders respecting the rugged country finally told greatly in favor of the in vaded. Few of those who came to slaughter the Vau dois ever retraced their steps. i See the valuable article of Herzog in his Encyclopaedia. CHAPTER V. JOHN WYCLTFFE AND HIS FOLLOWERS. TOHN WYCLIFFE was undoubtedly the boldest ** and the ablest of the Reformers before the Ref ormation. The ecclesiastical history of England from its beginning to its end presents scarcely another ex ponent of religious faith and enterprise who stands upon the same plane with him as respects either origi nality or breadth of achievement. At least as regards the former title to eminence, English history may be challenged to name his superior. Wycliffe was emphat ically a pioneer, pointing out in the fourteenth century the course which only daring souls were ready to enter in the sixteenth. In a double sense he was an inno vator. Both in doctrines and methods of religious work he ran against the current of his age. It might be expected that the biography of such a man would be filled with stirring recitals. As he broke more radically with the ecclesiastical system of his time than did a Huss or a Savonarola, it might be ex pected that he would appear as the centre of a greater commotion, and that his life would be pre-eminently rich in that dramatic interest which forms so large an element in theirs. But the case is quite otherwise. The form of Wycliffe retreats behind his work. He WYCLIFFE AND HIS FOLLOWERS. 401 is made known to us as the thinker and organizer. His record bespeaks a man in whom intellect and will were more conspicuous factors than sensibility and passionate enthusiasm. He saw his way with keenness of logical insight, and pursued it with unshaken resolution. But at the same time he pursued it without ostentation ; he held himself in poise, and made no bids for a showy tournament in the sight of the public. Moreover, the balance of factors in Church and State tended to modify the sharpness of assaults against his person. So it re sults that we have a great man and a great work, but no exciting drama, no list of scenes in which the hero rivets our attention by the romantic interest of his ex periences. Guided by Providence, or by his own discretion, Wycliffe took plenty of time to lay the foundation. He did not attempt his great task until he had been well schooled in knowledge of men and things, and, most important of all, in knowledge of himself. Two thirds of his life had passed before he assumed to deal with questions of public concern ; and it was only in the last six years of his life that he entered, in the more positive and comprehensive sense, upon the r61e of the reformer. If we suppose that he was born about 1320 and entered Oxford at the age of fifteen (no unusual age to begin university life in that era), his world for the next thirty years was the university. At Oxford, which, as one of the great seats of learn ing, had its thousands of students,1 Wycliffe passed, 1 The halls for students in the thirteenth century are said to have numbered three hundred, each of which could accommodate one hundred boarders. 26 402 THE MEDIAEVAL CHURCH. no doubt, through the ordinary mediaeval curriculum. Having studied the seven arts composing the trivium and quadrivium, namely, grammar, rhetoric, and logic, music, arithmetic, geometry, and astronomy, he was prepared to take up theology and canon law. Rising erelong to the dignity of a teacher, he was allowed, according to the custom of the time, to exercise his im mature powers in lecturing on the Bible, and finally was advanced to the high honor of lecturing on the Sentences of Peter Lombard, in other words, upon the approved list of topics in systematic theology. Mean while, he became a candidate for official distinctions. He appears as Fellow of Merton College in 1356, as Master of Balliol in 1360, and as Warden of Canter bury Hall in 1365. Some time within the decade fol lowing this last date he was made Doctor of Theology. Four years previous to the same date he received (at Fillingham) the first of his pastoral charges, which, however, are not supposed to have occasioned any lengthy absence from Oxford. Lutterworth, the last of his parishes, and the asylum of his closing years, was appointed to him in 1374. Wycliffe, then, up to an advanced point in his life was a man of the university. As he stood at Oxford in 1365, he was simply the scholastic philosopher. He had not attempted as yet to figure in any other character. He was known as the learned teacher, the trained dis putant, a man who carried keen weapons and had a sure thrust, a formidable antagonist upon the field of debate. Such qualities were a sure passport to distinc tion. For the mediaeval valuation, we may say over valuation, of logic was still rife. Skill in disputation WYCLIFFE AND HIS FOLLOWERS. 403 was still the scholar's badge of honor. The renown of the master disputants, the keen metaphysicians of the preceding century — such as an Alexander Hales, a Thomas Aquinas, and a Duns Scotus — still gave men the standard of estimate. As being in this glorious succession, Wycliffe occupied a most enviable place among his English contemporaries. He was indeed regarded by them as the most eminent scholastic of the age. Even so strong an opponent as the chronicler Knighton spoke of him in these terms : " In theology he was the most eminent doctor in those days. In philosophy he was reputed second to none, in scholastic studies incomparable." x Another tribute to his pre eminent rank as a scholastic, as some have judged, may be found in the comparative immunity which he en joyed, even after his position was known to be that of sharp antagonism to the existing church system. " Nothing," says Green, " marks more strongly the grandeur of Wycliffe's position as the last of the great schoolmen, than the reluctance of so bold a man as Courtenay, even after his triumph over Oxford, to take extreme measures against the head of Lollardry." 2 No doubt the imperious archbishop had other reasons for moderation than awe of Wycliffe's fame as a thinker 1 Quoted by Lechler, John Wycliffe and his English Precursors, p. 424. A more remarkable testimonial still, if its genuineness could be trusted, was that which appeared in 1406, in the name of the University of Oxford. While vouching for the pure life and orthodox faith of Wyc liffe, it extols him as a man " who had written upon the themes of logic, philosophy, theology, and morals, without, we believe, an equal among all the representatives of our university." (Wilkins, Concilia, iii. 302.) Lechler is inclined to believe in the genuineness of this document ; but such an indorsement of Wycliffe at that date seems rather incredible. 2 History of the English People. 404 THE MEDIAEVAL CHURCH. and scholar ; but we can readily believe that directly or indirectly this was one of the causes which held the persecutor in check. What are we to say of this high estimate of contem poraries ? Taken literally, it is no doubt overdrawn. While in recent times too little account has been made of Wycliffe's distinction as a great scholastic doctor, a full acquaintance with his writings is not likely to make him fairly a rival of the more celebrated names of scholasticism. Even among those of his own century there were two, namely, Durandus and Occam, who will in all likelihood continue to take precedence of him. Within the circle of scholasticism Wycliffe was not the greatest. His honor is, that he was not confined to that circle, that he was a great deal more than a scholastic, that he thought himself clear of the trammels of the school at so many points, that his nature was broad and many-sided enough to give an ample place to the prac tical alongside of the speculative, and to correct the aberrations of the latter by means of the data supplied by the former. One of the distinguishing features in the philosophic teaching of Wycliffe was his advocacy of realism. Un der the lead of Occam in the fourteenth century, nomi nalism, which had been generally repudiated since the initial stage of scholasticism, claimed a revival. This naturally called out the champions of realism. There was a division of parties on the subject at Oxford, as there was likewise at Paris and Prague. Wyc liffe, like his Bohemian disciple, John Huss, was an emphatic realist. His position was essentially the Pla tonic. As Plato regarded universals — the notions of WYCLIFFE AND HIS FOLLOWERS. 405 genus and species, the Ideas as they were called in his system — as the prius of all individual being, objec tively the ground of existence in individual things and subjectively the principle of rational thinking, so also did Wycliffe. There was, however, this difference be tween Plato's representation and that of Wycliffe. The former left the relation of the Ideas to the Divine Mind ambiguous. The latter affirmed with great dis tinctness and emphasis that the Ideas are in the mind of God. They are the thoughts of God. God thinks them in the Logos. The Logos is the inclusive con tent of the Ideas, and as the Logos is of the essence of God, so are the Ideas. While formally distinguished from God, they are essentially identical with Him.1 The theological bearing of this tenet with Wycliffe was the same as it has been with others who have held it in an equally unqualified form. It nurtured in him a bias to go back of the concrete to the general, to make the universal overshadow the individual, to mag nify the agency of God to the limitation of the auton omy of the creature. In a word, it impelled him, as embracing it with warmth and enthusiasm, to make God all in all. The practical advantage of this tendency is that it ministers to self-humiliation, to devotion, to worship. Its speculative danger is, that, unless held in check, it is liable to push one across the border of theism into the limbo of pantheism. Wycliffe at times seems to approach dangerously near to the pantheistic edge. Joining the declaration that the Ideas which God thinks in the Logos are of the essence of God with the declaration that they are at the same time the 1 Trialogus, i. 8-10, ii. 3. 406 THE MEDIEVAL CHURCH. ground of being in every existing thing, he stands in face of the conclusion that every existing thing is in its ground identical with God. Still, Wycliffe had no notion of accepting the pantheistic outcome, and uttered his caveat against it. If criticism be passed upon him, the criticism should be, that on the very difficult sub ject of adjusting the relation of God to the creature he hardly posited for the latter a sufficiently distinct sphere. Wycliffe next appears in the character of patriot or ecclesiastico-political reformer. From 1366 to 1378 his career was such as is most aptly described by these terms. " In the first twelve years of his public activ ity," says Lechler, " the worst mischief of the Church ap peared to him to be the usurpations of the papacy upon the sovereign rights of the English crown, the financial spoliation of the country for the benefit of the curia in Avignon, the general secularization of the clergy, includ ing the monasteries and foundations, simony, and the corruption of morals. All these evils were ecclesiastico- political matters ; and accordingly the means and ways which he recommended, and in part himself applied, were chiefly of an ecclesiastico-political character." J In this line of activity, Wycliffe was allying himself with an already prepared public opinion. The nation had long groaned under the burden of papal exactions. In Wycliffe's time the burden was the more intolerable, because it was manifest that the Popes were acting as the agents of a rival kingdom, as the lieutenants of France. It was at the instigation of the French King that the Pope made the galling demand upon Edward 1 John Wycliffe and his English Precursors. WYCLIFFE AND HIS FOLLOWERS. 407 III. that the annual tribute stipulated by John, which had long been discontinued, should be paid, together with the arrears. This demand, as we have seen, the nation heartily resented, and rejected by the mouth of its Parliament in 1366. Some have supposed that Wycliffe was a member of this body and a leading spirit in its proceedings. At any rate a critic of the decision rendered by the Parliament directed his attack against Wycliffe, and called forth a reply from his pen. From this time Wycliffe was known as a leading champion of the national cause. His prominence in the eyes of the government is evident from the fact that in 1374 he was made one of a commission to treat with the repre sentatives of the Pope at Bruges. With characteristic bent to thoroughness, Wycliffe was not content with putting in a protest against the spoliations by the Pope. He felt deeply aggrieved by the worldliness of the Church at large. It stirred his dndignation to think that so many rich benefices were being enjoyed by men who cared only for the revenue, and had no regard for the spiritual welfare of their charge. It seemed to him a righteous thing that these evil stewards should be dispossessed, and, as under the circumstances there was no other power to effect this end, he thought that the civil government should take the initiative. In developing this subject, he showed how well the scholastic still held a place in his composition. He must have a theory as broad as the case. And so he brought out his famous theory of dominion. The ground that he took was this. To God alone belongs unqualified dominion ; He alone has the unrestricted right to property; men have only a 408 THE MEDIEVAL CHURCH. delegated right, and this delegated right they forfeit by mortal sin. Tenure of property depends upon the state of grace in the holder. " God is," he says, " and has dominion over all. Each man in his degree is bounden to serve God, and if he does not render this service he is no lord of goods of true title, for he that standeth in grace is the true lord of things, and who ever faileth by default of grace, he falleth short of the right title of that which he occupieth, and makes him self unfit to have the gifts." l This has truly some thing of a revolutionary sound. But notice that on Wycliffe's premises it points more largely to an ideal ground of property right than to a practical standard of decision among men. For he held very emphati cally the opinion that a man's state of grace is God's secret. Nevertheless, he was not satisfied to leave the theory without any practical application. He used it to offset the notion that goods once given to the Church are held by a strictly inalienable title, and drew the in ference that in cases of notorious misuse of spiritual positions the civil authority must take pains to deprive the incumbent. In doing this, however, as he was careful to state, it must proceed within the limitations of law. He implies also that the Church itself should be consulted, and the grounds of deprivation brought before its assemblies. Presented under these limita tions, the doctrine of dominion does not appear spe cially extravagant. Some have even concluded that it was not calculated to affect the relative position of Church and State. But this can hardly be conceded. Wycliffe expressely taught that the Scriptures place us 1 Quoted by A. R. Pennington in his Life of Wycliffe. WYCLIFFE AND HIS FOLLOWERS. 409 under obligation to render obedience and service even to bad rulers, whereas in case of wicked priests they impose no such duty upon us. As applied to the exist ing relation of Church and State, Wycliffe's teaching upon the subject favored to noticeable degree the pri macy of the latter. Naturally, the champion of such views was regarded by the hierarchy as a dangerous foe, who needed to be silenced or crushed. The first attempt in this direction was at the hands of the English bishops. In February, 1377, Wycliffe was cited to appear before Archbishop Sudbury and before Courtenay (then Bishop of Lon don), in St. Paul's Cathedral. Wycliffe presented him self, but had no occasion or opportunity to answer charges. The meeting broke up in a tumult, owing to the intemperate language of the Duke of Lancaster (John of Gaunt), who came forward as Wycliffe's de fender. Failing in this attempt, the bishops now so licited the aid of the Pope. The desired aid was given in generous measure. In May, 1377, five bulls were issued, designed to weave the toils so effectually about Wycliffe that escape would be impossible, and calling upon the King, the royal princes, the Privy Council, the chief of the nobility, and the University of Oxford, to render their pious assistance in bringing the disturber to justice. A schedule of nineteen errors charged against Wycliffe accompanied the bulls.1 But the 1 According to Lechler, the nineteen theses of Wycliffe fall, in respect of subject matter, into three groups : (1) That concerning rights of property and inheritance. (2) That concerning church property, and its rightful secularization in certain circumstances. (3) That concerning the power of church discipline and its necessary limits. 410 THE MEDIAEVAL CHURCH. meshes of the net were not equal, even in this case, to holding the prey. Wycliffe indeed appeared before the Pope's commissioners and commenced to explain and to justify his teachings. He had not proceeded far, however, when the conference was cut short by the interference of the government and the London populace in his behalf. Again he went out as free as he had come in, being under injunction of silence, it is true, but having given no promise to that effect. We have now reached the year 1378, the year which begins the stadium of Wycliffe's career, in which he accomplished his most daring, most significant, most far-reaching work. It is here, if anywhere, that we shall find warrant for the remarkable words of John Milton. In his Areopagitica he wrote : " Had it not been for the obstinate perverseness of our prelates against the divine and admirable Wycliffe, to suppress him as a schismatic and innovator, perhaps neither the Bohemian Huss and Jerome, no, nor the name of Luther or Calvin, had been ever known. The glory of reform ing all our neighbors had been completely ours." Let us see, then, how far Wycliffe supplied the proper basis for a reformation, if only his age had been willing to build thereupon, — how far he fulfilled the double r61e of a reformer of theological principles and a reformer of methods of propagating religious truth among the people. It is quite certain that Wycliffe anticipated the for mal principle of the Reformation of the sixteenth cen tury, the doctrine of the sole authority of Scripture as opposed to any traditions of men. His own words will give ample evidence on this point. " We ought," WYCLIFFE AND HIS FOLLOWERS. 411 he says, " to believe in the authority of no man unless he say the Word of God. It is impossible that any word or any deed of man should be of equal authority with Holy Scripture. . . . Believers should ascertain for themselves what are the true matters of their faith, by having the Scriptures in a language which all may under stand. For the laws made by prelates are not to be re ceived as matters of faith, nor are we to confide in their public instructions, nor in any of their words, but as they are founded in Holy Writ, since the Scriptures contain the whole truth. ... It is the pride of Lucifer, and even greater pride than his, to say that the teachers of man's traditions, made of sinful fools, are more profitable and needful to Christian people than the preachers of the Gospel." As regards the interpretation of Scripture, Wycliffe was not at all behind the writers of the six teenth century in asserting the right of the individual Christian to judge for himself. There is no human tribunal set over him to force him to its point of view. But while he has the right of judgment, he has by no means the right to exercise it in a flippant and egoistic manner. He can judge properly only under the con ditions of a holy life and great study. " Christian men," says Wycliffe, " should stand to the death for the maintenance of Christ's gospel, and the true under standing thereof, obtained by holy life and great study, and not set their faith nor trust in sinful prelates and their clerks, nor in their understanding thereof. . . . And if Antichrist say that each man may feign that he has a right faith and a good understanding of Holy Writ, when he is in error, let a man seek in all things truly the honor of God, and live justly to God and 412 THE MEDIEVAL CHURCH. man, and God will not fail to him in anything that is needful to him, neither in faith, nor in understanding, nor in answer against his enemies." x As regards the material principle of the Reformation, the doctrine of justification by faith alone, it cannot be said that Wycliffe so distinctly anticipated the teach ing of the sixteenth century. We need not lay much stress, in a comparative view, upon the fact that he did not make justification purely forensic. For while this became a tenet of Protestantism, it was not always as serted at the outset. Luther certainly, in one and an other instance, seems to make justification something more than a forensic act, something more than mere pardon, and to include in it an incipient sanctification. He was more intent to repudiate the Romish prescrip tions as to the way of attaining justification, than the Romish conception of justification itself. The chief point in Luther's pre-eminence over Wycliffe on this subject lies in the fact, that with full consciousness and all the energy of a prophetic vocation the German re former urged men to look immediately to the atoning Redeemer, and to trust in Him alone for pardon and salvation. But if Wycliffe did not so positively incul cate this sole trust in Christ for justification, he did in culcate it in a negative way. With great explicitness and decision he removed all the intervening objects which in the Romish system are calculated to intercept the trust of the believer, and prevent its being centred in Christ. Observe how he deals with such imperti- 1 See Tracts and Treatises of John De Wycliffe, edited for the Wycliffe Society, London, 1845 ; also Life and Writings of John Wiclif, by Rudolf Buddensieg. WYCLIFFE AND HIS FOLLOWERS. 413 nent mediums as an exaggerated trust in one's works, dependence upon the pardons, the indulgences, and the absolutions of the priesthood, and reliance upon the supererogatory merits and intercessions of the saints. As regards one's works, he may in terms have con nected with them a kind of merit, a meritum de congruo, but in his general system of thought this reduces to a quasi merit. He really held without qualification the Augustinian maxim, that all of man's merits are God's gifts. " We should know," he says, " that faith is the gift of God, and so God may not give it to man except He give it graciously. And thus, all the goods which men have are the gifts of God. And thus when God rewardeth a good work of man, He crowneth his own gift." The system of indulgences Wycliffe denounces in strong terms, calling it " a subtle merchandise of Anti christ's clerks, to magnify their counterfeit power, and to get worldly goods, and to cause men not to dread sin." Again he remarks : " It is plain to me that our prelates in granting indulgences do commonly blas pheme the wisdom of God, pretending in their avarice and folly that they understand what they really know not. They chatter on the subject of grace as if it were a thing to be bought and sold, like an ass or ox." All this artificial mechanism for removing sins, he contends, is worthless in comparison with a penitent and God fearing temper. "Christian men should know that whoever liveth best prayeth best ; and that the simple pater-noster of a ploughman who hath charity is better than a thousand masses of covetous prelates and vain religious." 414 THE MEDIAEVAL CHURCH. Respecting auriculur confession, Wycliffe allows that under proper conditions it might serve to restrain some in special need of a curb ; but he plainly indicates his belief that its universal prescription has no warrant in Scripture, and has been the cause of great demorali zation. His opinion of supererogatory merits is thus ex pressed : " The Pope and the friars pretend that there is laid up in heaven an infinite number of supereroga tory merits belonging to the saints, above all the merit of Christ, and that Christ has set the Pope over all this treasure, that he may dispose of it at his pleasure, and distribute therefrom to an infinite extent, since the re mainder will still be infinite. All this is wild blasphemy. Neither the Pope nor the Lord Jesus Christ can grant indulgences to any man except as the Deity has deter mined by His just counsel." In the words just cited we have a hint of Wycliffe's predestinarianism. On this subject he held the full Augustinian theory. After denying the doctrine of superfluous merits, Wycliffe naturally could acknowledge little or no place for prayer to the saints. Accordingly, we find him using this language : " As the Scripture assureth us, Christ is the only mediator between God and man. Hence many hold that, if prayer were directed only to that middle Person of the Trinity for spiritual help, the Church would be more flourishing and make greater advances than she now does, when many intercessors have been found out and introduced." On the subject of the Church, its officiary, and its sacraments, Wycliffe was likewise a radical innovator, and a precursor of sixteenth century teaching. He WYCLIFFE AND HIS FOLLOWERS. 415 took pleasure in considering the Church on its invisi ble side, and, passing over the Romish conception of a definite outward organism, defined it as the whole body of God's elect. As for the claims of the papacy, Wycliffe treated them with about as little ceremony as did Luther, his reverence for the successor of Peter being doubtless not a little abated by the great schism which, in 1378, began to scandalize Christendom. Rebutting the claim that it is necessary to believe that the Pope is the head of the Church, he asks, " How then shall any sinful wretch, who knows not whether he be damned or saved, constrain men to believe that he is head of holy Church ? Certainly, in such a case they must some times constrain men to believe that a devil of hell is head of holy Church, when the Bishop of Rome shall be a man damned for his sins." Again he remarks : " It is supposed, and with much probability, that the Roman pontiff is the great Antichrist." There is no need of going to Rome, as he maintains, to find a head for the Church. "If they say that Christ's Church must have a head here on earth, true it is, for Christ is the head which must be here with His Church until the day of doom." Indeed, Wycliffe had so little re gard for the hierarchical conception of church govern ment that he was willing apparently to spare a good deal besides the papacy. He emphasized the fact that the primitive Church had only presbyters and deacons, and declared his conviction that all orders above these had been introduced by Csesarean pride. Wycliffe criticised the scholastic doctrine of the sacraments at various points ; but his special departure 416 THE MEDIAEVAL CHURCH. in this sphere was his denial of transubstantiation. In the view of his opponents, this was above all other sins of heresy the unpardonable sin. Nor from their stand point was the verdict altogether illogical. For if the infallible authority of the Church is the foundation of Romanism, its doctrine of the eucharist, taken in its totality, is the next stone to the foundation, and the basis for an immense superstructure. It was with much vehemence that Wycliffe attacked this idol, for he re garded it as a chosen means of Satan to sink men to perdition. As to the positive view which Wycliffe en tertained of this sacrament, it may be briefly defined by its relation to two of the Reformation types, that of Luther and that of Calvin. Lechler, in his admirable work on Wycliffe, expresses the opinion that it was nearer to the former than to the latter. To us, the reverse appears to be the truth. Indeed, we think that with only moderate change of expression the view of Wycliffe might be made to appear identical with that of Calvin. Unlike Luther, Wycliffe taught that the glorified body of Christ is locally confined in heaven. Unlike Luther also, he taught that it is not so pres ent in the elements as to be received by the wicked. On both of these points he agreed with Calvin ; and he agreed further with Calvin in teaching a spiritual and virtual or efficacious presence of the body of Christ. The extent of Wycliffe's departure from current beliefs might be illustrated in other particulars. He took ex ception, for example, to the enforced celibacy of the clergy. He also criticised monasticism as he found it in his day, and came in particular, in his last years, to regard the mendicant friars as a public pest. His en- WYCLIFFE AND HIS FOLLOWERS. 417 counter with the Mendicants is said to have been the occasion of a noteworthy scene in his history. Wyc liffe, so Vaughan recounts, was confined to his chamber in Oxford by sickness. " From the four orders of friars, four doctors were formally deputed to present them selves to their expiring enemy ; and to these the same number of civil officers, called senators of the city and aldermen of the wards, were added. When these per sons entered the apartment of the sick man, he was seen stretched on his bed. Some expressions of sym pathy were dropped, and some of hope concerning his better health. But it was presently intimated that he must be aware of the many injuries which the whole mendicant brotherhood had sustained at his hands, hav ing been the special object of attack in many of his sermons and writings ; and as it was now manifest that death was about to bring his course to its conclusion, it was only charitable to hope that he would not con ceal his penitence, but that with due Christian humility he should revoke whatever he had said tending to the disreputation of fraternities so eminent in learning, sanctity, and usefulness. Wycliffe continued silent and motionless until this address was concluded. He then beckoned his servants to raise him in his bed ; and this done, he fixed his eyes on the persons assembled, and, summoning all his remaining strength, exclaimed, ' I shall not die, but live ; and shall again declare the evil deeds of the friars ! ' " We can easily believe that it was a hasty retreat which was effected by the honorable delegation, and that they had a feeling that they had made an unfortunate bid for a death-bed repentance. One item more in Wycliffe's views should be men- 27 418 THE MEDIAEVAL CHURCH. tioned ; for while it is without special connection with his theological system, it indicates how decided became his bent to think for himself. I refer to his attitude toward war. In terms wellnigh anticipating the peace policy of the Quakers, he denounced the barbarous ap peal to the sword. He defined the right of conquest as the right of wholesale robbery, and disparaged the honor which the knight claimed as an adept in slaughter, by comparing him with the hangman, who killeth more and with a better title.1 We come now to the second part of the twofold character in which Wycliffe appears as a reformer, and have to consider the practical expedients to which he resorted for the religious enlightenment of the masses. Perhaps we shall not be at fault in including among these that marvellous .issue of tracts which engaged his later years. No longer reposing confidence in the pat ronage of the learned and wealthy, " he appealed," says Green, " and the appeal is memorable as the first of such a kind in our history, to England at large. With an amazing industry he issued tract after tract in the tongue of the people itself. The dry syllogistic Latin, the abstruse and involved argument which the great doctor had addressed to his academic hearers, were suddenly flung aside, and, by a transition which marks the wonderful genius of the man, the schoolman was transformed into the pamphleteer. If Chaucer is the father of our later English poetry, Wycliffe is the father of our later English prose. The rough, clear, homely English of his tracts, the speech of the plough man and the trader of the day, though colored with 1 On the Seven Deadly Sins. WYCLIFFE AND HIS FOLLOWERS. 419 the picturesque phraseology of the Bible, is in its liter ary use as distinctly a creation of his own as the style in which he embodied it, the terse vehement sentences, the stinging sarcasms, the hard antitheses which roused the dullest mind like a whip." A second practical expedient was the order of itin erant preachers which Wycliffe instituted and su- perintended. They were called the order of "poor priests." According to the directions of their founder, they preached the ethics and religion of the Bible in language level to the understanding of the common people. " These men went forth," writes Lechler, "in long garments of coarse red woollen cloth, barefooted, with staff in hand, in order to represent themselves as pilgrims, and their wayfaring as a kind of pilgrimage, their coarse woollen dress being a symbol of their pov erty and toil. Thus they wandered from village to village, from town to town, and from county to county, without halt or rest, preaching, teaching, warning, wherever they could find willing hearers ; sometimes in church and chapel, wherever any such stood open for prayer and quiet devotion ; sometimes in the church yard, when they found the church itself closed ; and sometimes in the public street or marketplace." Refer ring to this method of evangelism, Canon Pennington remarks, " Wycliffe was unquestionably the Wesley of his day." The third and most renowned of Wycliffe's practical expedients for enlightening the masses was hisjfeans- lation of the Bible into English. The idea was not wholly a novel one. There had been attempts at trans lation at various intervals in the preceding history. 420 THE MEDIJEVAL CHURCH. But none of these, if we are to judge by extant re mains or distinct accounts, had resulted in the trans ference of the whole Bible to the vernacular. The Anglo-Saxon versions comprised little besides the Pen tateuch, the Psalter, a few of the historical books of the Old Testament, and the four Gospels. The Nor mans are said to have had a version of the Bible in their own tongue in the thirteenth century; but this was not in the language of the great body of the peo ple, being French rather than English. Excluding metrical renderings, which were not translations proper, it appears that prior to the labors of Wycliffe the Psalter (two versions of which were executed before the mid dle of the fourteenth century) was the only part of the Bible that had been rendered into Old English. The enterprise of Wycliffe had also this distinctive feature, that it was designed not merely for the accommodation of a few scholars, nobles, or princes, but was to serve pre eminently as a means of acquainting the common people with Holy Writ. Herein it challenged an obstinate prejudice of the age. What the partisans of the hierar chy thought on the subject is clearly enough revealed by the language of the chronicler, Knighton. In a passage which was probably written before the year 1400, " he maintains that Christ gave the Gospel, not to the Church, but only to the clergy and doctors of the Church, to be by them communicated to the weaker brethren and the laity according to their need ; whereas Wycliffe had rendered the Gospel from Latin into Eng lish, and through him it had become the possession of the common people, and more accessible to the laity, including even women who can read, than it used to be WYCLIFFE AND HIS FOLLOWERS. 421 to the well educated clergy. The pearl is now thrown before swine, and trodden under foot." x Some years later Archbishop Arundel and his suffragans, in a me morial to the Pope, vented their indignation against the work of translation by calling it the completing act in the malice of the arch-heretic. The details pertaining to the execution of this great enterprise are lost to history. It is commonly under stood, however, that the first version was completed in 1382 ; that the New Testament was rendered by Wycliffe himself ; that Nicholas Hereford rendered the larger part of the Old Testament; that the remainder of the Old Testament (beginning in the Book of Baruch) was rendered by Wycliffe ; that a revision of the whole under the editorship of John Purvey was completed by 1388, and that this revised version was widely circu lated. How far was this translation influential upon later ones ? What permanent contributions did it make to our English Bible ? An exact answer is as difficult as the question is interesting. Following, however, the hints of skilled investigators, we conclude that the in direct influence of the Wycliffite version was considera ble; that the direct influence, while perhaps appreciable, was not large. It exercised a moulding influence upon the speech of the people ; it gave to the peculiar phra seology of many familiar texts a right of possession, so to speak, which later translators could not easily dis card. In this way it supplied materials to Tyndale, Coverdale, Whittingham, and other distinguished archi tects of the English Bible. But as a translation of a 1 Lechler, chap. vii. § 2. 422 THE MEDIJEVAL CHURCH. translation (being from the Vulgate), executed with helps much inferior to those which were at the com mand of the later translators, it could hardly have served them to any great extent as a specific model. No doubt, the name of Wycliffe will always hold an eminent place among those whose shaping genius has given us our English Bible. Still, impartial history will probably assign the foremost position in the honored list of translators to that tireless laborer and heroic martyr, William Tyndale.1 What now were the personal fortunes of Wycliffe in the midst of these great innovations? By his attack upon transubstantiation he forfeited in large measure the support which he had received from the University. In 1381 the Chancellor issued a mandate forbidding some of Wycliffe's theses on the Lord's Supper to be longer taught in the University as being plainly hetero dox. At the middle of the next year the archbishop sent orders to the University prohibiting attendance upon the preaching of Wycliffe, and requiring public notice that he had been suspended from all scholastic functions. Near the end of the same year he was sum moned before a provincial synod in Oxford. According to Knighton, he responded to the summons, and escaped censure by a recantation. The former statement may be true ; the latter, instead of being sustained by any evidence, is contradicted by the confession of Wycliffe, which Knighton inserts at this point in his Chronicle, — the confession being the reverse of a retractation. Such 1 W. F. Moulton, History of the English Bible. J. I. Mombert, Eng lish Versions of the Bible. John Stoughton, Our English Bible, its Translations and Translators. WYCLIFFE AND HIS FOLLOWERS. 423 was the extent of the persecution against Wycliffe. Without any restriction upon his personal liberty, or any restraint upon his labors, except in the University, he was allowed to finish his course. The last two years were spent in his parish of Lutterworth. Meanwhile his principal adherents, such as Aston, Repyngdon, and Hereford, did not escape so easily. They were pursued with unrelenting vigor, and found no refuge except in recantation or exile. Wycliffe died on December 31, 1384. He died in fellowship with the Church. Singular immunity ! In an age when free thought was branded as treason, the most daring innovator, the man who dealt his powerful blows against the whole framework of the Romish sys tem, passed to his end unscathed. This, however, in dicates rather the restraining hand of circumstances, than the pleasure of the hierarchy. What their real pleasure was, they indicated clearly enough in 1415, when, in the great Council of Constance, they con demned a list of Wycliffe's propositions, and com manded his body to be removed from consecrated ground. Thirteen years later, the command was ful filled. The bones were exhumed and burned, and the ashes cast into the neighboring stream.1 The Council of Constance, which condemned John Huss to the flames, was not at fault in associating Wyc liffe's name with his. Huss was in truth a disciple of i The little river Swift. " The little river," in the celebrated words of Thomas Fuller, " conveyed Wycliffe's remains into the Avon, Avon into the Severn, Severn into the narrow seas, they to the main ocean. And thus the ashes of Wycliffe are the emblem of his doctrine, which is now dispersed all the world over." 424 THE MEDIEVAL CHURCH. Wycliffe. Recent research has made it entirely certain that he drew largely from the writings of the English reformer.1 Thus the fire which was kindled in England ignited a kindred flame in distant Bohemia. The influence of Wycliffe early started forth upon its far- reaching circuit. Shortly after the death of Wycliffe the name of Lol lards, which had been occasionally used before, became the current designation of those who embraced his teachings. The name seems to have been imported from the Netherlands. Some have supposed that it was derived from the Latin lolium, meaning darnel or tares ; others connect it with the old German lollen, to hum or whine. On either supposition, the satirical in tent with which the term was applied is sufficiently manifest. For a number of years the Lollard party was of no mean strength. Knighton probably expressed himself in exaggerated terms, when he said that one could scarcely meet two men on the road one of whom would not be found to be a disciple of Wycliffe. Still, the party was numerous, and counted among its adherents representatives of all the different ranks of society. So great was their confidence and courage in 1395, that they presented to Parliament a document in the interest of reform, wherein their most radical beliefs were stated without reserve. But the tide soon turned against the Lollards. The revolution by which Richard II. was deposed, and the house of Lancaster in the person of Henry IV. was 1 See Prof. J. Loserth, Wiclif and Huss. WYCLIFFE AND HIS FOLLOWERS. 425 brought to the throne, was one in which the hierarchy took a conspicuous part; A close alliance resulted be tween the King and the prelates. To repay the latter, and to insure their continued support, Henry IV. read ily responded to their request for repressive measures against the Lollards. At the opening of the year 1401 the act De Hceretico Comburendo, the grim provision for the burning of heretics, was entered into the statute- book. This act authorized the bishops, not only to arrest and imprison those suspected of heresy, but also to hand over obstinate and relapsed heretics to the civil officers " to be by them burned on a high place before the people." Scarcely was the law recorded before it was given practical application. In March, 1401, Wil liam Sawtree, a London priest, was burned in Smith- field. Some years later, the same place witnessed the burning of John Badby. Others experienced in the hardships of imprisonment a fate scarcely more to be coveted. The most distinguished victim was Sir John Old- castle, or Lord Cobham. He was a man of distinction, having served with credit in the French wars. Though he made no secret of his opinions, respect for his char acter secured him comparative freedom from attack during the reign of Henry IV. But under Henry V. he was adjudged a heretic, and consigned to the tower. Escaping thence, he remained concealed several years. A high price was set upon his head, as he was accused of being the patron and instigator of the insurrection ary movements which took place at this time. Whether there was any truth in this charge or not, it is difficult to determine. Very different verdicts have been ren- 426 THE MEDIAEVAL CHURCH. dered by historians. In any case, all that we know of the man, whether in life or in the ordeal of martyrdom, favors the conclusion that he was loyal to his conscience, let his attitude toward his King have been what it may. Having been apprehended in 1417, he was brought to London and sentenced to the double punishment of being hanged as a traitor and burned as a heretic. " This sentence was literally carried out. He was placed upon a sledge, as if he had been a traitor of the deepest dye, and thus dragged through the town to St. Giles's Fields. On arriving there he was taken down from the sledge, and, immediately falling on his knees, he began to pray for the forgiveness of his enemies. His prayer ended, he rose, and, addressing the assem bled multitude, warned them to obey God's commands written down in the Bible, and always to shun such teaching as they saw to be contrary to the life and example of Christ. He was then suspended between two gallows by chains, and the funeral pile was kindled beneath him, so that he was slowly burned. So long as life remained in him, he continued to praise God, and to commend his soul to His divine keeping." x After the death of Lord Cobham no conspicuous leader appeared in the ranks of the Lollards. While never wholly exterminated, the party was reduced to a small remnant, which obtained immunity only because of its quietness and obscurity. 1 Lechler, chap. x. § 6. CHAPTER VI. JOHN HUSS AND THE HUSSITES. BOHEMIA at the end of the fourteenth century presented perhaps a more favorable theatre for a reform movement than any other country of Europe. The gospel message had come to it in the first instance from the East. Traces of its Greek origin were long apparent in the Bohemian Church. Even down to the beginning of the fourteenth century such customs were prevalent as preaching in the vernacular, marriage of the clergy, and the extension of the eucharistic cup to the laity.1 In the course of the century, it is true, the bonds with Rome were strengthened, and there was a movement toward a more decided ascendency of the Roman scheme. But the old order of things could not have been wholly forgotten, and whatever stimulus may have come from this source was reinforced by an intel lectual awakening. The founding of the University of Prague by Charles IV. in 1348 gave to Bohemia the first great institution of learning which had yet ap peared beyond the Rhine. A few years after the opening of its doors, it had gained an attendance and acquired a fame which made it wellnigh a rival of the universities at Paris and Oxford. Such a rapid unfold- 1 Hagenbach, Kirchengeschichte, Vorlesung xxx. 428 THE MEDIAEVAL CHURCH. ment of educational facilities was naturally of itself a source of mental quickening to the Bohemians. At the same time, the extraordinary development attained by their language supplied a ready vehicle for an un usual diffusion of intelligence among the people. " The state of education and average general culture in Bo hemia," says a recent biography of Huss, " was higher than that of any other country, and the Czesko-Slavonic language had reached a pitch of flexibility and culti vation which had not been attained by any other Euro pean tongue save that of Italy, where it was rather poetry than prose that was in the ascendant." a Among those who labored zealously and effectually to adapt the Bohemian tongue to theological use was a representa tive of the nobility, Thomas Stitny. His enlightened zeal in this direction is very finely indicated by his own words. " A sermon of St. Augustine," he says, " has encouraged me to be bolder in writing Bohemian books which relate to the Holy Scriptures ; for from it every one can see how good a thing it is to read the Holy Scriptures. And those who condemn books in the Bohemian language, even if good ones, wishing perhaps to be the only persons who appear wise, might well dread the vengeance of God, when they reflect how guilty those are who wish to stop the letters and neces sary messages therein, and to prevent the Lord God, the Eternal Bridegroom, from teaching His bride His will, and comforting her in her distress thereby. Yea, justly would he be in terror who should stop the letters of a king addressed to his queen, if he knew that the king was aware of it. And how much greater is the i A. H. Wratislaw. JOHN HUSS AND THE HUSSITES. 429 Lord God than any king ! How much dearer to Him is His bride — that is every soul that longeth for Him — than was any queen dear to any king ! Wiser men understand this, and know that a Bohemian is as pre cious to Him as a Latinist." Among the clergy in Bohemia three men in particu lar may be regarded as the precursors of Huss ; namely, Conrad of Waldhausen, Milicz of Kremsier, and Mat thias of Janow. Conrad was a native of Austria, and was known as an effective preacher at Vienna before his arrival in Bohemia, which occurred about the year 1360. His great aim was a reform in the lives of the people and the clergy. Accepting the current system of doctrine, he employed all his energy in assailing cor ruptions in practice. Much attention was awakened by his stirring addresses, insomuch that the church where he ministered at Prague became too narrow to contain the assembled crowd. As a moral censor, he naturally made enemies. The mendicant monks in particular were displeased with his severe criticisms, and it was probably owing to their accusations that he had oc casion to defend himself before the Pope's legate. Con rad died in 1369. A contemporary has thus described the wholesome effect of his labors : " A man of great learning and greater eloquence, he saw, when he came to Bohemia, all men given up to excessive luxury, and exceeding all limits in many respects ; and through his preaching he so reformed the morals of people in our country, that many put aside the vanities of this world and served God with zeal." x Milicz, though probably at the time in holy orders, 1 Benesz Krabice, quoted by Wratislaw. 430 THE MEDIJEVAL CHURCH. was for a considerable interval in government employ, first at the court of the Margrave John of Moravia, and then at that of the Emperor Charles IV. In 1363, re signing his offices, he betook himself to the one task of preaching the gospel. At first his style of address was not attractive ; but erelong his spiritual devotion and enthusiasm gained the ear of the people, and their eager ness to hear was only surpassed by his willingness to instruct. It speaks in favor of the tact as well as of the philanthropy of the man, that he is said to have rescued two hundred of the fallen women of Prague, and provided them with the necessary aids to a virtu ous life in a reformatory institution. Milicz, like Con rad, appears not to have been an innovator in doctrines. He held, to be sure, some rather eccentric views about the coming of Antichrist. But he did not mean to impugn any part of the established system of faith or polity. So the authorities seem to have concluded. For while his enemies caused him trouble, and he had occasion to clear himself at Rome, and again at Avignon, the Pope readily acquitted him in the former instance, and there are indications that he met with favorable consideration in the latter instance. His death occurred in 1374, at Avignon, whither he had repaired to defend his cause before the papal court. Matthias of Janow was rather the scholar and writer than the popular orator. Educational advantages of the first order had been enjoyed by him. Besides studying for an interval in Prague, he spent six years in Paris, where he received the degree of Master of Arts. From 1381 to his death in 1393 he held a position among the clergy of Prague. The writings of Matthias, JOHN HUSS AND THE HUSSITES. 431 of which the five books entitled " De Regulis Veteris et Novi Testamenti " formed the principal part, indicate that his views were somewhat more radical than those of his predecessors, and came nearer to a veritable breach with the Romish system. He exalted the Scrip tures far above human traditions, emphasized the im mediate relation of the believer to Christ, complained of the legalism which had substituted a long list of com mandments and restrictions for the simple rule of life in the gospel, opposed the tendency to separate too widely between the clergy and the laity, favored the practice of frequent communion on the part of all Christians, and condemned the abusive extreme to which the wor ship of images was commonly carried. The preference of Matthias for the Bible, and his desire to make it the foundation of his teaching, is vividly set forth in the preface to his chief work. " In these writings of mine," he says, "I have throughout made most use of the Bible, and but little of the sayings of the doctors ; both because the Bible occurs to me promptly and abundantly for writing on every matter, and because out of it and through its most divine verities, which are clear and self-evident, all opinions are more solidly confirmed, are founded with greater acuteness, and are meditated on more usefully ; and because it is that which I have loved from my youth up, and have named my beloved friend and spouse, yea, the mother of beauteous affec tion and knowledge and fear and holy hope."1 His words on the subject of human commandments are especially noteworthy. Having called attention to the fact that Christ and His apostles laid but few com- 1 Quoted by Wratislaw. 432 THE MEDIEVAL CHURCH. mands upon Christians, he adds : " Whence it appears that those later persons have acted and still act cruelly and barbarously, who have introduced and authorita tively confirmed their numerous inventions, various doctrines, and rigid commands in the family of God and the Lord Jesus, binding and burdening their subjects overmuch. . . . Wherefore I have concluded in my own mind, that, for the purpose of renewing peace and union in the general body of Christians, it is expedient to root out all that plantation, and curtail again the word upon earth, and bring back the Church of Christ Jesus to its salutary and compendious beginnings, re taining proportionately few, and those apostolic, com mandments." What is here mentioned as a matter of desire was also proclaimed by Matthias as a matter of expectation. With a confidence approaching to pro phetic assurance he declared : " I believe that all the aforesaid works of men, prescriptions, and ceremonies shall be destroyed from the foundation, and God alone will be exalted, and His Word will abide eternally ; and the time is near at hand when those prescriptions will be brought to naught." But with all his enlightened sentiments Matthias was only a tentative reformer. He professed himself ready to receive correction from the Church, and seems not to have put in the proviso that the correction should be through arguments convincing to his reason and con science. So we have the record, that, in answer to the demand of a synod in 1389, he formally recanted several of the opinions which he had advanced.1 Such developments as we have sketched prepared the 1 Wratislaw. JOHN HUSS AND THE HUSSITES. 433 ground for Huss. Not only this ; they exercised un doubtedly a certain influence upon his own mind. Nevertheless, it is probably no erroneous judgment which assigns them the second rank in the tuition of the Bohemian reformer. From no other source did Huss draw so much as from that most able and daring innovator of the preceding generation, John Wycliffe. This is proved by the combined evidence of his own acknowledgments, the charges of his accusers, and the contents of his extant writings. No doubt his enemies went beyond warrant in proclaiming the identity of his teachings with those of Wycliffe. The Bohemian was less radical than the English agitator. The former, for example, retained the doctrine of transubstantiation, which was so sharply condemned by the latter. He occupied also a more tolerant attitude than Wycliffe toward the custom of venerating the Virgin and the saints. But Huss made no secret in his later years of his appreciation for Wycliffe. Once, in the presence of the Archbishop of Prague, he is said to have exclaimed that he hoped that his soul might be with that of the Oxford teacher. He admired him first as a philosopher, as an able advocate of realism. Later he admired him as a reformer in practice and doctrine, and borrowed largely from his writings. " I am attracted," wrote Huss, " by his writings, in which he expends every ef fort to conduct all men back to the law of Christ, and especially the clergy, inviting them to let go pomp and dominion of the world, and to live, like the apostles, ac cording to the law of Christ. I am attracted by the love he has for the law of Christ, maintaining its 28 434 THE MEDIMVAL CHURCH. truth and holding that in no point can it prove to be false."1 As early as bis student days Huss had an opportunity to look into the works of Wycliffe. The liberality of a Bohemian nobleman by the name of Ranconis had provided a fund by which youth of his country might be enabled to study at Paris and Oxford. The connec tion thus established between Bohemia and the English university was greatly strengthened by the marriage of Anne, sister of the Bohemian King Wenzel (or Wen- ceslas), to Richard II. The prominence of Wycliffe of course drew the attention of the foreign students, and they were eager to possess themselves of his writings, and to carry them back to their own country.2 We learn from Jerome of Prague, who was one of those that made a sojourn at Oxford, that he himself took pains to copy and to carry home some of the principal of Wyc liffe's writings. Such was the preparation made for Huss. Viewed on its intellectual or dogmatic side, his work was to some extent a copy. He cannot claim the same distinction as his English predecessor in respect of originality or mental daring. He was more eminent as a confessor or witness than as a thinker. His noblest distinction was his moral worth, his humble, unswerving, courageous fidelity to his convictions. His greatest natural gift was the power of persuasive address. John Huss was born in 1369 at the town of Husinetz in the southern part of Bohemia. His parents were poor, and in the earlier stages of his education he had 1 Neander, Kirchengeschichte, ix. 2 J. LoBerth, Wiclif and Hus. JOHN HUSS AND THE HUSSITES. 435 to shift for himself, much after the manner of Luther at a later date, gaining his bread by singing in the churches and performing menial services. In 1396 he took the degree of Master of Arts at the University of Prague, and two years afterwards began to deliver lectures as a public teacher. In 1401 he was made Dean of the Faculty of Arts for the ensuing half-year. In 1402 he was Rector for the like term. The same year marks also a very important call for Huss, his nomination to the office of preacher in the Bethlehem Chapel, a foun dation which was due to the charity and enterprise of two laymen. According to the provisions of the foun dation, preaching in this chapel was to be in the vernac ular. This was welcome to the zeal of Huss for popular instruction, and gave him an opportunity to leaven the minds of the people with those reform principles which now were beginning to burn in his own heart. By no other means, perhaps, did he so effectually impress the Bohemian people as by his sermons in Bethlehem Chapel. It was first in 1410 that Huss began to be seriously molested in his work. Several causes combined to ren der him an object of attack. In the first place, in his impartial denunciations of iniquity he was no more in clined to spare the clergy than the people. The vices and abuses which in this degenerate age were scanda lously prevalent in the priesthood he assailed with scath ing rebuke. Naturally his censures created ill will in those not inclined to reform. While they felt the smart of cutting reproofs, they feared also for their revenue, since an unscrupulous dealing with relics, and simoni- acal charges for spiritual services, were among the things 436 THE MEDIEVAL CHURCH. most emphatically reprobated by the reformer. In the second place, the attitude of Huss toward the writings of Wycliffe gave an occasion for attack. As early as 1403, these writings were brought under censorship. Forty-five articles purporting to be extracted therefrom were laid before an assembly of the university magis- ters. The German element, which was predominant, was forward to condemn the articles. Among the Bo hemians, on the other hand, there were several promi nent teachers who were ready to defend Wycliffe, either on the ground that the articles did not truly represent his sentiments, or were capable of being understood in an orthodox sense. Huss sympathized with this latter verdict. He had no disposition to defend Wycliffe at every point; but at the same time he was strongly averse to the wholesale condemnation of the articles which was carried through by the assembly. Attention was recalled to the subject at intervals. In 1408 there was an order for the delivering up of Wycliffe's writ ings. This order was in part obeyed ; its execution was not vigorously pressed. Thus far the position of Huss was not definitely and openly compromised by his rela tion to Wycliffe. But even the qualified apology which he offered for the English reformer, who was now re puted in Romish circles to have been the great here- siarch of his time, gave his enemies a most effectual instrument for stirring up prejudice against him. A third cause for assailing Huss was the part which he took in overcoming the preponderance of the Germans in the management of the university. In three out of the four " nations " which were represented in the uni versity, the German element was dominant. This gave JOHN HUSS AND THE HUSSITES. 437 them three votes to one of the Bohemians. The result was, that the Bohemians were compelled to see most of the offices and benefices which were at the disposal of the university in the hands of strangers. Huss relished this as little as others of his nation, and approved the effort to persuade the King to ordain a more just dis tribution of privileges. As the appeal came at a time when the King was angry with the Germans for oppos ing his policy in reference to the rival claimants of the papacy, it proved effective. A royal decree was issued in January, 1409, by which it was provided that the Bohemian nation should have three votes in the univer sity. So great was the displeasure of the Germans at this action that a few months later they left Prague in large numbers, ^neas Sylvius says that five thousand joined in the exodus, and a contemporary Bohemian writer carried the estimate up to a total of twenty thou sand. A large proportion of the emigrants settled at Leipzig, where a new university was started. As the depletion of their university was observed, it naturally occurred to some that too high a price had been paid for Bohemian ascendency. The result accordingly was not altogether favorable to Huss, even as respects the opin ion of his own countrymen. As regards the Ger mans, they were of course much embittered against him. Even before this they cherished toward him no friendly feeling. As nominalists they were ill affected from the start toward Wycliffe, as being a distinguished champion of realism. They were quite ready to believe him to be a theological heretic, who was known to them as a her etic in philosophy. The simple fact then that Huss em braced the philosophical realism of Wycliffe was a source 438 THE MEDIAEVAL CHURCH. of suspicion in their minds as to his orthodoxy in theol ogy. They were alert to interpret any show of appre ciation for Wycliffe as a token of heresy. Accordingly, as they went from Prague the sharpened feeling of per sonal hostility which they carried with them was a sure pledge that they would be industrious in sowing the seeds of ill will against the Bohemian reformer. In 1410 Zbynek (or Zbinco), Archbishop of Prague, opened the positive attack on Huss. He had been an gered by the utter failure of his attempt in the pre ceding year to champion the cause of Gregory XII., one of the schismatic Popes. The King had supported Alexander V., the nominee of the Council of Pisa, and in this measure had received the co-operation of Huss and of the greater part of the clergy. The archbishop, after witnessing the nullity of his censures, had made a virtue of necessity, and transferred his allegiance to Alexander. But he felt his humiliation, and eagerly sought a compensation. In pursuance of a papal bull, obtained through his representations some months be fore, the archbishop in July, 1410, ordered the burning of such copies of Wycliffe's writings as had been col lected, the surrender of such as were still retained by their possessors, and desistance from further preaching in private places, on pain of excommunication. This last requisition was designed to put a stop to the preaching of Huss in the Bethlehem Chapel. Such a demand Huss could not conscientiously obey. He re garded it as putting unlawful bonds upon the Word of God. He therefore appealed to the Pope, and went on with his preaching, at the same time uttering a protest against the burning of Wycliffe's writings. The arch- JOHN HUSS AND THE HUSSITES. 439 bishop on his part burned the proscribed writings, ex communicated Huss, and opposed his petition at the papal court. Huss was cited to answer before that court, and on his failure to appear incurred the papal excommunication. As Huss was supported by the King and a large part of the people and the clergy, all these censures, as well as the interdict which the arch bishop imposed upon Prague, effected little. At length Zbynek yielded so far as to listen to a plan of arbitra tion and to remove the interdict. His death, occurring at this time, deprived him of the opportunity, either to consummate peace, or, what was more probably in his intention, to renew hostilities. Huss by this time was well established in his prin ciple of action. As he had refused, at the command of the archbishop, to cease from preaching, so he con cluded to sacrifice the dictates of his conscience to no earthly authority. His maxim was steady adherence to a conviction of truth or duty so long as he was not proved to be in the wrong by considerations that ap peared consonant with the divine oracles. No arbitrary authority, however august the pretensions with which it might clothe itself, was to be allowed to determine his course. Such a principle under the circumstances was a sure passport to martyrdom. Before the close of the year 1411, Huss had occasion to declare his attitude toward papal authority. In an swer to the bull of John XXIIL, summoning the faith ful to support a crusade against Ladislaus, King of Naples, who sustained the rival Pope, Gregory XII., the traffic in indulgences was opened in Bohemia. It being understood that Huss was determined to oppose 440 THE MEDIEVAL CHURCH. the traffic, he was summoned before the archbishop (Albic) and the papal legates. Being asked by the latter if he would obey the apostolic commands, he replied very promptly in the affirmative. But as the legates expressed their satisfaction at his ready submis sion, he added : " Understand me, gentlemen ! I term the doctrine of Christ's apostles apostolic commands, and so far as the commands of the Pope of Rome agree with that doctrine and those commands I am willing to obey them gladly ; but when I see the contrary, I shall not obey, even if ye place before me fire to con sume my body." This declaration Huss followed up, with straightforward resolution. While some of his former allies, notably Stephen Palecz and Stanislas, voted for neutrality, Huss, both in public disputation and in his pulpit addresses, denounced the purchase of Pope John's indulgences as an unworthy patronizing of an unrighteous and a bloody enterprise. A significant token of his temper was given as he took leave of Palecz. Plainly perceiving that there was no longer any ground of fellowship with him, he said : " Palecz is a friend, truth is a friend ; and since both are friends, the blameless course is to give the preference to truth." Not only did he oppose indulgences as a means of help ing on the unrighteous crusade of the Pope, but, like Luther at a later date, he greatly qualified the value of indulgences in general, and emphasized the view that priestly absolution is to be regarded as conditional, it being impossible without special revelation to know whether the penitent has met the divine requirements for remission. Among the people of Prague' a large party responded JOHN HUSS AND THE HUSSITES. 441 warmly to the sentiments of Huss. Sometimes their zeal was not kept within the limits of discretion. Huss himself was far from countenancing wild-fire and vio lence. But the agitation was too great to be controlled fully by his word or example. The patrons of the Pope's indulgences were lampooned. A procession was gotten up, and documents bearing the semblance of papal bulls, after being borne through the streets, were committed to the flames. In several instances preachers who attempted to recommend the indul gences were interrupted with a cry of denunciation. Three young men, among those who testified in this lawless way against the iniquity, were arrested and hur ried to execution by the magistrates, — an exhibition of cruelty which exasperated far more than it intimidated. In the popular view their death was a martyrdom, and Huss himself did not forbear to praise their honest zeal and devotion. These developments were of course a sure guaranty against any favorable decision on the case of Huss, which had been pending at the papal court. Malignant representatives of his enemies in Prague, among whom the renegade Michael de Causis acted a conspicuous part, were on hand to give the worst account of the do ings of the reformer. Accordingly, in July, 1412, sen tence was given for the public proclamation in Prague of the excommunication of Huss, together with the requirement that no Christian should have any inter course with him, and that the place of his abode, if he should remain obstinate for twenty days, should be under interdict. Soon after came the more violent in junctions that Huss should be delivered over to the 442 THE MEDIAEVAL CHURCH. archbishop, or other judge, to be condemned and burned ; that the Bethlehem Chapel should be levelled with the ground ; and that all implicated in the heresy of Huss should recant within thirty days on pain of sum mons to appear before the court of Rome. These meas ures caused intense excitement. Between the bitter enemies of Huss on the one hand, and his warm admirers on the other, violent and bloody altercations were im minent. Such a state of things was very unwelcome to Huss. It was also a grief to him that the people should on his account be deprived of the rites of religion, as they were in a measure through the partial observance of the interdict. While, therefore, so far as he himself was concerned, he was willing to hold his ground, he decided for the sake of the general interest to retire for a season from Prague. Refuge and entertainment were readily offered him by friendly nobles. During his absence Huss was by no means inactive. He still kept his hand upon affairs in Prague, and in deed visited the city at intervals. He found occasion to preach at various points to multitudes who were eager to hear his voice. He was also much occupied with his pen. His most elaborate treatise, De Ecclesia, was produced at this time. In this work Huss brings out a conception which was fundamental to his depart ure from the Romish basis. Like Wycliffe before him, he emphasizes the idea that the Church is properly the whole company of the elect. Union with Christ is the essential condition of membership. From this point of view he naturally draws the conclusion that the papal headship cannot be admitted except in a very quali fied sense. A pope may not be even a member of the JOHN HUSS AND THE HUSSITES. 443 Church, in which case it would be preposterous to re gard him as the head. Christ alone is properly the head of the Church. That the Church can dispense with a pope is evident from the fact that in the earlier ages of its history there was no pope. Up to the time of Constantine the Roman bishop was simply the col league of the other bishops. As it is not necessary to have a pope, so obedience may be refused to him when he does not rule as a true representative of Christ. In deed, the Christian is bound to keep his gaze fixed upon the example and the precepts of Christ, and to give heed neither to pope nor prelate when their injunctions are counter thereto.1 From these and other teachings of Huss it is quite evident that he entertained the formal principle of the Lutheran reformation. A compe tent investigator of the subject remarks : " As regards Huss's doctrine concerning the sources of Christian be lief and concerning its exposition, it may be taken as proved that Holy Scripture was looked upon by him as the alone source of religious truth, despite the fact that in several places he expresses himself in another sense." 2 The opening of the Council of Constance in the latter part of the year 1414 summoned Huss to a new theatre of testimony. At the instance of the Emperor Sigis- mund, who had been largely instrumental in calling the council, and who was anxious to compose the disturb ance in Bohemia, it was provided that Huss should be invited to appear at Constance to answer for himself. The safe-conduct of the Emperor was promised in case 1 See Neander, Kirchengeschichte, ix. 2 Loserth, Wiclif and Hus. 444 THE MEDIEVAL CHURCH. he should accept the proposal ; and this, it would ap pear, was understood to imply a free departure from the council, as well as protection on the way thither. " King Sigismund's intention," says Wratislaw, " as signified to Huss by the noblemen commissioned to communicate with him, was not only to give him a safe- conduct on his way to Constance, but also to procure him a free and safe public hearing in the council, in such manner, indeed, that, if he were unwilling to sub mit to the judgment of the council, he was to have a free and safe journey back to his own country. Such is Huss's own statement in a letter written after June 5, 1415, and also in an earlier but undated letter, in which he expressed the wish that he could but once at any rate speak with the King, since he had come thither at his wish and under his promise that he should return safe to Bohemia."1 The language of the safe-conduct itself speaks for the same conclusion : " Sigismund, by the grace of God King of the Romans, etc., — To all princes, ecclesiastical and lay, and all our other sub jects greeting. Of our full affection we recommend to all in general, and to each individually, the honorable man, Master John Huss, the bearer of these presents, going from Bohemia to the Council of Constance, whom we have taken under our protection and safeguard, and under that of the Empire, requesting when he arrives among you that you will receive him kindly and treat him favorably. . . . Let him freely and securely pass, so- 1 Chap. vii. Palacky, who concludes that the safe-conduct, while made out at Speier, October 18th, did not reach Huss till after his arrival in Constance, assigns equal scope to the document. (Geschichte von Bohmen, iii. 318.) JOHN HUSS AND THE HUSSITES. 445 journ, stop, and return."1 Notwithstanding the Emper or's guaranty, there were not wanting those who appre hended peril for Huss, and warned him that Constance would prove fatal ground to him. Huss understood himself that there was some occasion for the warning. From his farewell letter it is clear that he was by no means confident of escaping imprisonment and death. But he was resolved to brave the danger. The spirit of a confessor dwelt in his bosom, and no prospect was more welcome than the opportunity to justify his teach ings before the supreme tribunal of Christendom.2 Huss reached Constance on the 3d of November. His most virulent enemies from Prague, if not already on the ground, were forthwith at hand, and with unwea ried industry were endeavoring to poison the minds of his judges. Their machinations were all too success ful. Before the end of November Huss received a fore taste of the mercy that was to be awarded. The prison closed its doors upon him by the order of Pope and cardinals. In a foul and noisome dungeon he learned the worth of the safe-conduct which had bespoken for him kindly treatment in every place of his sojourn. His health was speedily broken, and his trial would have been anticipated by his death had he not been removed to more wholesome quarters. i Quoted from Von der Hardt by E. C. Gillett, Life and Times of John Huss, vol. i. chap. xiii. 2 The feelings with which he looked forward to the council are on rec ord in a letter which he addressed to the Emperor Sigismund, Sept. 1, 1414 : " Sicut nihil in occulta docui, sic opto non in secreto, sed in pub- lica audientia audiri, examinari, praedicare, et omnibus, quotquot arguere voluerint, juvante spiritu domini respondere. Nee spero verebor con- fiteri Christum dominum, et pro ejus lege verissima, si oportuerit, mor tem pati." (Quoted by Palacky, iii. 312.) 446 THE MEDIAEVAL CHURCH. How was this violation of the imperial pledge re ceived by Sigismund? At first he expressed, and no doubt felt, great indignation. But his heart was set upon making the council a success in the healing of the papal schism. He found that he could not defend Huss and maintain the terms of the safe-conduct with out endangering a rupture with the council. He con cluded, therefore, after some show of displeasure, to leave Huss to his fate. The assembled doctors on their part offered a salve to his conscience, setting forth the doctrine that no secular power can obligate itself to keep faith with a heretic, to the prejudice of the Church.1 In this, whatever may be thought of the special appli cation made, the council no doubt stood on historical ground. The plain import of the legislation of Inno cent III. was that no secular ruler is authorized to pro tect an heretical -subject, or to stand in the way of his being visited with the extreme penalty. It follows 1 The decree of the council on the subject of safe-conducts reads as follows : " Prassens sancta synodus ex quovis salvo conductu per Im- peratorem, Reges et alios seculi principes haereticis, vel de haeresi dif- famatis, putantes eosdem sic a suis erroribus revocare, quocumque vinculo se adstrinxerint, concesso, nullum fidei catholicae vel jurisdic tion! ecclesiastical praejudicium generari, vel impedimentum praestari posse seu debere, declarat, quo minus dicto salvo conductu non obstante liceat judici competenti et ecclesiastico de hujusmodi personarum errori bus inquirere, et alias contra eos debite procedere, eosdenique punire, quantum justitia suadebit, si suos errores revocare pertinaciter recusa- verint, etiamsi de salvo conductu confisi ad locum venerint judicii, alias non venturi." (Mansi, Sess. xix. p. 799, torn, xxvii.) A decree of the council, as reported by Von der Hardt (torn. iv. p. 522), specifically jus tifies the violation of the safe-conduct held by Huss : " Sancta synodus declarat, dictum invictissimum principem circa praedictum quondam Johannem Huss, non obstante memorato salvo conductu, ex juris debito fecisse, quod licuit, et quod decuit Regiam Magistatem." JOHN HUSS AND THE HUSSITES. 447 necessarily on this basis, that any pledge of security from a temporal ruler given to a subject accused of heresy must be conditional. Faith with a heretic can in no case be inviolable, at least in no case in which the faith is not pledged by the supreme spiritual authority itself.1 From the first, it was manifest that the council was bent upon humbling Huss, if not upon accomplishing his destruction. It occupied toward him the position of magisterial authority, requiring him to acknowledge and to recant the errors alleged to have been taught by him. At his trial (on the 5th, 7th, and 8th of June, 1415) the testimony of the most bitter and preju diced witnesses was received, but no opportunity was provided for friendly testimony. Of the various articles which were cited as being taught in his writings and proving his heresy, some had never received his sanc tion. Nevertheless he was called upon to abjure the whole list, and thereby to allow the inference that he had taught things which in fact he had never entertained or inculcated. No door of escape was left open except that at which conscience stood guard, and Huss was not the man to thrust conscience aside. He denied that he had taught some of the alleged errors ; he main tained that others properly understood were true ; he refused to make the indiscriminate recantation and submission that were required. Near the close of 1 Of course the council might have respected the safe-conduct, if it had been so disposed. While the theocratic system gave it the option to make public faith a nullity, it did not require it to do this. It could have shown some regard for plighted faith, and spared Sigismund the blush which is said to have mantled his cheek as Huss, before the as sembled dignitaries, referred to the safe-conduct. (Palacky, iii. 364.) 448 THE MEDIJEVAL CHURCH. the trial, as several under the guise of friendly advice urged him to cast himself upon the mercy of the coun cil, Huss responded : " Most revered fathers, I came here freely, not to defend aught obstinately ; but if in some points I have stated things incorrectly or defect ively, I wish to submit to the instruction of the coun cil. But I pray that a hearing may be granted me to explain my meaning as to the articles charged against me, and to cite the writings of holy doctors; and if my reasons and citations be not strong enough, I will humbly submit to the instruction of the council." Later, in answer to a private solicitation to satisfy the council by subscribing a formula of recantation, Huss replied : " I dare not submit myself to the council ac cording to the tenor of the recantation exhibited to me, both because I must condemn many truths, which, as I heard from themselves, they designate scandalous, and because I must incur the guilt of perjury by ab juration, through admitting that I have held the errors; whereby I should greatly scandalize God's people, who have heard the contrary from me in my preaching. If then the holy Eleazar, a man of the old law, an account of whom is in the Book of the Maccabees, would not lyingly admit that he had eaten the flesh forbidden by the law, lest he should act against God and leave an evil example to posterity, how should I, a priest of the new law, though an unworthy one, for fear of a punish ment which will soon be over, be willing to transgress the law of God more grievously by withdrawing from the truth, by committing perjury, by scandalizing my neighbors? Indeed, it is better for me to die, than, avoiding a momentary punishment, to fall into the JOHN HUSS AND THE HUSSITES. 449 hands of the Lord, and perhaps afterwards into fire and everlasting reproach. And because I have ap pealed to Christ Jesus, the most powerful and the most righteous of judges, committing myself and my cause to Him, I therefore await His decision and sentence, knowing that He will judge every man, not according to false or erroneous witness, but according to truth and deserving." J Such was the position which Huss maintained with constant resolution. In the face of persuasion and menace alike, he revealed not the slightest token of a tendency to waver in his chosen course. All that remained now was the final sentence and the ordeal of martyrdom. On the 6th of July, 1415, as the council was assembled in state, Huss was brought into its presence. After a sermon by the Bishop of Lodi, which dwelt on the duty of extirpating heresy, articles from the writings of Wycliffe were read and condemned. Then accusations against Huss and articles from his writings were read. No opportunity was given him to reply except as he managed at intervals to inter ject a few sentences. Among the charges, it was stated that he had appealed to God, to the disparagement of ecclesiastical authority. To this Huss replied by re newing his appeal in words like these : " O Lord Jesus ! Lo, this council now condemns Thine own action and law as an error ! For, when Thou wast oppressed by Thine enemies, Thou didst commit Thy cause to Thy Father, the most righteous Judge, giving herein an ex ample to us poor sinners, when aggrieved in any way, to have recourse to Thee, the most righteous Judge, 1 Quoted by Wratislaw. 29 450 THE MEDIAEVAL CHURCH. humbly asking Thine aid." As sentence was pro nounced against him, Huss fell upon his knees and prayed, saying : " Lord Jesus Christ ! pardon all my enemies, I pray Thee, for the sake of Thy great mercy. Thou knowest that they have falsely accused me, brought forward false witnesses, and concocted false articles against me. Pardon them for the sake of Thine in finite mercy." Being vested with the priestly garments prior to the ceremony of degradation, he was exhorted by the bishops having the matter in charge to abjure. Huss replied, as he turned to the assembly, " See ! these bishops would have me abjure. I fear to do so lest I should be a liar in the sight of God ; lest I should offend my conscience and God's truth, never having held the articles which they falsely allege against me, but rather having taught, written, and preached the contrary ; and also lest I should offend and scandalize the great multitude to whom I have preached, and like wise others who are faithfully preaching the Word of God." The priestly vestments were then removed, and the eucharistic chalice was taken from his hand with the exclamation, " We take from thee, accursed Judas, the cup of salvation." But Huss replied, " I trust in God, my Almighty Father, that He will not take from me the cup of His salvation, and I have a steadfast hope that I shall yet to-day drink it in His kingdom." As the concluding mockery was taking place, and a paper crown disfigured with the pictures of fiends was put upon his head, the bishops said, " Now we give over thy soul to the devil." "But I," said Huss, looking JOHN HUSS AND THE HUSSITES. 451 heavenward, " commend to Thee, 0 Jesus Christ, the soul which Thou hast redeemed." Like words were repeated by Huss while he was being led to the stake. As the pile of mingled wood and straw which encompassed his body was kindled, he commenced to chant with a loud voice, " O Christ, Son of the living God ! have mercy upon me ! " The smoke and flame which the wind drove into his face soon quenched his voice, but it could be seen from the motion of his lips that as long as life remained he was continuing his sublime devotions. Thus died one of the world's heroes, a man than whom a more honest or devoted was probably never sent to heaven by the pathway of fire. The voice of the accuser had triumphed. The coun cil had vindicated its authority against the man who dared to appeal to Christ and to conscience, instead of humbly submitting to its arbitrary mandate. But neither accuser nor council, nor both combined, could annul the verdict which was written in the hearts of thousands of Bohemians. They knew the worth of their countryman. It is no marvel that the flame of his martyrdom became a torch which kindled all Bohemia into a conflagration. The council which had no compassion upon Huss would not be likely to spare his disciple, Jerome of Prague ; for Jerome was a man who gave more occa sion of provocation than Huss. He was more impetu ous and more venturesome, superior in genius but less in constancy. Of singularly restless and inquiring mind, he kept up a continual journeying. We find him at Oxford, at Paris, at Cologne, at Heidelberg, at 452 THE MEDIAEVAL CHURCH. Vienna, in Moravia, in Poland, and in Palestine. Wherever he went, he expressed himself with freedom and boldness. Judging from the stir which he made at different universities, he must have been a very keen disputant. That he was a man of extraordinary elo quence we know from other evidence. Urged probably by a desire to assist Huss, Jerome came to Constance in the early part of April, 1415. He was apprised at once by his friends that his coming was of no avail, and that he must depart at once if he valued his safety. This advice he was soon constrained to follow. Having remained in a neighboring town for a few days, he began to pursue his journey toward Bo hemia. But he failed to escape. When within a day's journey of the border, he was arrested and sent to Constance. There chains and imprisonment proved to be more effectual arguments with him than they had been with his inflexible master. After several months of suffering, he was prevailed upon to renounce the doctrines of Wycliffe and Huss, and to acknowledge the justice of the condemnation which befell the latter. But recantation did not mean acquittal for Jerome. One party among the members of the council was in deed disposed to advocate his release from prison. The opposing party, however, carried the day, and Jerome was brought again to trial. At a public hearing which was granted him on the 23d and the 26th of May, 1416, he responded to the numerous articles that were produced against him. It was a long effort, and the tax was all the more severe as he was greatly worn by the hardships of his imprisonment. Nevertheless, at the conclusion, Jerome was ready to improve the op- JOHN HUSS AND THE HUSSITES. 453 portunity which was given him to speak more at length. He was master of the situation, for he had become mas ter of himself. With a spirit which rose above all consid eration of temporal consequences, he gave the message of his convictions to his astonished listeners, ending by repairing the wrong which he had done to Huss, de claring that no sin beside lay so heavy upon his con science as that which he had committed in assenting to the condemnation of that holy man. The impression made by Jerome's eloquence may be judged from the report of the papal secretary, Poggio Bracciolini, a writer who had more than common op portunities to hear the most distinguished orators of his time. " I own," he says, " that I never saw any one who, in pleading a cause, especially one for life and death, approached more nearly to the eloquence of the ancients, whom we admire so much. It was marvellous to observe with what words, what eloquence, what ar guments, what expression of countenance, what vis age, what confidence, he answered his adversaries, and finally concluded the pleading of his cause. . . . Mafty he smote with jests, many with invectives; many he frequently compelled to laugh in what was no laughing matter, by jeering at the reproaches made to him by his adversaries. . . . This, however, was a token of the greatest intellectual power, that, when his discourse was frequently interrupted, and he was assailed with vari ous outcries by some who carped at his sentiments, not one of them did he leave unscathed, and, chastising them all alike, compelled them either to blush or to hold their peace. . . . His voice was sweet, clear, and sonorous, accompanied with a certain dignified oratorical gesticu- 454 THE MEDIAEVAL CHURCH. lation, either to express indignation, or to move com passion, which however he neither asked for nor wished to obtain. He stood fearless and dauntless, not merety despising but even desiring death, so that you would have said he was another Cato." In approving Huss, Jerome had unmistakably con demned the council. His own condemnation followed as a matter of course. On the 30th of May he was sent upon the fiery pathway which Huss had trod before him ; and he pursued it with no less of triumph over the fear of death. On the way to the stake he chanted with a loud voice the Catholic creed and various hymns. As the wood and straw were being placed about him, he sang through the Easter hymn, Salve, festa dies ! Ob serving that the executioners were about to light the fire behind his back, he said to them, " Come here and light the fire in m}*- sight ; if I had feared it, I should never have come to this place." As the flames sprang up, he committed his soul to God, and sent out his last breath in fervent prayer. The manner in which Huss and Jerome met their fate is certified by no partisan testimony. Poggio says : " Jerome suffered the tortures of fire with a calmness greater than that with which Socrates drank the hem lock." JEneas Sylvius says of both Huss and Jerome : " They braved a violent death with constant mind, and proceeded to the flames as though they had been invited to a banquet, uttering no word which might betoken sor row. No philosopher is recorded to have met death with fortitude equal to that with which they endured burning." How happened it that a council which was designed to reform the Church had so little sympathy for men JOHN HUSS AND THE HUSSITES. 455 whose whole energy was given to the work of reforma tion ? It may be rephed, that a large proportion of those who had a place in the council were corrupt ecclesias tics, who desired nothing less than the abrogation of cur rent abuses. This is no doubt true. But there were earnest men in the council, who bemoaned the condition of the Church, and were inwardly pledged to put forth every effort for its correction. And men of this very class, no less than others, urged on the prosecution against the Bohemian leaders. John Gerson, before the assembling of the council, was among the most emphatic in his denunciations of Huss. Peter d'Ailly took a conspicuous part in the trial of Huss. Gerson vigor ously supported the proposition for renewing the pro cess against Jerome after his recantation. How is this to be explained? The answer is twofold. In the first place, they approached the case of the Bohemian re formers through the thick air of prejudice. The dis tinguished theologians from Paris had their grudge, as advocates of the nominalistic philosophy. And this bias of theirs was reinforced by the representations of the Germans, who brooded over the wrongs which they thought had been done to them in their relations to the University of Prague, and also by the English theolo gians, who regarded Huss and Jerome as allies of the abhorred sect of Wycliffe. In the second place, they disliked the method of the reform which was under taken in Bohemia. In their view, the aristocratic was the true method. Reform should be initiated by the highest authorities in the Church, and be carried for ward in accordance .with their prescriptions and under their leadership. The method of Huss, on the other 456 THE MEDIAEVAL CHURCH. hand, was popular and democratic. He discussed the needs of the Church in the presence of the people. He proceeded on the supposition that a strong pressure upon the corrupt ecclesiastics was necessary, both from people and princes, in order to dispose them to any real correction of the existing evils. This from the aristo cratic and hierarchical standpoint seemed revolutionary, a method perilous to the fabric of the Church. Hence the intolerant feeling with which Huss and his asso ciates were regarded.1 The Bohemian people repaid those who had sacri ficed their leaders as might have been expected. While there was a party which acknowledged the authority of the council, it was not strong enough to deal with the thoroughly aroused and indignant friends of the mar tyrs. The council found its authority despised and its measures treated as complete nullities. It cited before its judgment seat the nobles who had complained in bit ter terms of the burning of Huss and the cruel treat ment of Jerome. Not one of the nobles responded to the summons. It proscribed the practice of giving the cup to the laity. The Hussites maintained the practice with growing zeal and tenacity. This was a departure from Romish usage for which Huss was not primarily responsible. It seems to have been first advocated while he was in prison at Constance, its leading cham pion being Jacobus of Misa, commonly called Jacobel- lus. But Huss, as the matter was brought to his notice, confessed that the practice accorded with Scripture and early usage, and gave it his sanction. i Compare Wratislaw, chap. ix. JOHN HUSS AND THE HUSSITES. 457 In addressing a people thus inflamed with a sense of injury, prudence would seem to have dictated a tone of moderation, not to say conciliation. But in fact the very opposite was employed. The council issued. a de cree in 1418, the plain intent of which was an uncom promising war against the memory of Huss, and against all who were in any wise favorable to his cause. The newly elected Pope added a bull sanctioning and com manding every means and method of inquisitorial rigor and tyranny which might be effectual for the uprooting of heresy. Such measures simply poured oil upon the fire. The Hussites began to combine. A large company of the more zealous, that they might enjoy the eucharist ac cording to the prescriptions of the New Testament, left Prague and encamped upon a mountain which they called Tabor. This became thenceforth a gathering point, and served as a stronghold against enemies. As the movement went on, it became apparent that there were divergent parties among the Hussites. The more radical wing were not content to stop short of a thorough renunciation of Romanism. They wished for a simple style of worship, claimed that the Bible is the one supreme authority, and discountenanced prayers for the dead, invocation of saints, and veneration of relics. As this party was in the ascendant at the encampment on Mount Tabor, they came to be called Taborites. That there was a genuine evangelical basis underneath their creed may be judged from the fact that the Bohe mian and Moravian Brethren of later times were largely their descendants. At the same time, it cannot be de nied that in the first stage of their history their zeal was 458 THE MEDIAEVAL CHURCH. frequently heightened into fanaticism and iconoclastic fury. Fanciful views, especially on the interpretation of prophecy, had for a time much currency among them. This in the long run was of course an element of weak ness. But at the first their highly wrought enthusiasm added to the warlike energy which made them a terror to their foes. The more conservative wing of the Hussites, as laying the principal stress upon the cup in the eucharist, were called Calixtines or Utraquists. Their position is well expressed by the four articles which they early set forth as a basis of treating with Sigismund : (1) the full and unrestricted freedom of the preaching of the gospel throughout Bohemia ; (2) the freedom of the commun ion of the cup ; (3) the exclusion of the clergy from large temporal possessions or civil authority ; (4) the strict repression and punishment of gross public sins, whether in clergy or laity. In 1419, the death of the weak and worthless King Wenzel left the Emperor Sigismund heir to the Bohe mian crown. Naturally, the Hussites were not favor ably disposed toward the prince who had sacrificed their leader in the face of his plighted faith. The Taborites had no disposition to acknowledge him as their king, and the more conservative Calixtines, after a season of negotiation, concluded to repudiate his claim, since it became apparent that religious liberty could hope for nothing at his hands. Sigismund in fact was fully bent upon a policy of repression. Aided by the decrees of the Pope, who summoned the faithful to join in a crusade against the heretics of Bohemia, he marched into the country with a large army. But the JOHN HUSS AND THE HUSSITES. 459 Hussites were equal to the encounter. Under the lead of Ziska, the ablest general of the age, and of those who were trained under his tuition, they were completely victorious over the imperial forces. Inva sion after invasion ended in defeat for the Emperor and his allies. At length, after the country had suffered fearfully from the ravages and atrocities of both parties, it was concluded that the Hussites were not to be over come by force. Resort was therefore made to diplom acy. The Hussites were invited to negotiate with the Council of Basle near the beginning of its sessions. The result was a compact in which there was a par tial concession to the demands of the Calixtines. This wing of the Hussites was accordingly reconciled to the Church, and inasmuch as they joined arms against the opposing Taborites, the strength of the latter was broken. Thereafter the military ardor by which they had been so remarkably distinguished subsided. The surviving remnant took on the character of a peaceful brotherhood. As for the Calixtines, they enjoyed very unequal advantages from their compact at different times. However, they maintained themselves until new and wider issues were brought to their attention in connection with the great Reformation of the six teenth century. Such is the astonishing record of the Bohemian move ment. A part of a small nation withstood the assaults of Church and Empire, compelled the verdict that they could not be subdued by force, and in the public settle ment which was effected obtained terms of compromise from a professedly ecumenical and infallible council. CHAPTER VII. THE MYSTICS. THE culmination of scholasticism was followed by an extraordinary outburst of mysticism. From the first years of the fourteenth century the ferment of mystical speculation and mystical devotion spread far and wide through Germany. Gifted teachers announced the most daring tenets respecting the union of the soul with God. A multitude of earnest men and women, who had little faculty for speculating on such high themes, had an ardent zeal to possess the truth through the medium of experience. The cloisters of the women in particular, notably those connected with the Domin ican order, supplied many instances of a mystical piety which expressed itself in visions and ecstatic exercises. Both in the speculative teaching and in the emotional excitement an element of unhealthy exaggeration may be discerned. Nevertheless, in both phases of the movement good was contained. The deeper require ments of piety, its great inward demands, were duly emphasized in opposition to mere formality and ritual ism. In the enlarged scope given to the subjective, there was naturally a tendency to limit the notion of hierarchical authority, and a point of connection with the Protestant Reformation was supplied. THE MYSTICS. 461 Among the mystics of this era Eckhart was no doubt the greatest master of speculative thought. He ap pears almost wholly in this character. Only a meagre outline of his life is preserved. He was born about 1260. Probably before the age of manhood he entered the Dominican order. His education was perfected at Cologne and Paris. At the latter place he took the degree of Master. For eight years (1303-1311) he held office in his order as provincial prior of Saxony. He then lectured for a year at Paris. Later he appears as teacher and preacher in Strasburg, as prior in Frank furt, and as teacher in Cologne. In 1325 Eckhart's orthodoxy was called in question. He was suspected of holding tenets like those of the Brethren of the Free Spirit, who were then being sought out and brought to punishment. At this time he was acquitted ; but the process was renewed against him two years later, at the instance of the Archbishop of Cologne. An appeal to the Pope by the accused was answered with a condem nation of twenty-eight of his sentences. This answer came in 1329, a year or two after the death of Eckhart. The papal document assumes that he had recanted his errors before his death. But there is no record of a re cantation, and the Pope's statement was probably based upon the general declaration which Eckhart is known to have made, that he would readily recant anything which might be shown to be unsound.1 In his speculative system Eckhart cannot be said to have adhered closely to any one philosophic master. He drew from Neo-Platonism, especially as found in the works of the pseudo Dionysius, from Augustine and 1 Wilhelm Preger, Geschichte der deutschen Mystik im Mittelalter. 462 THE MEDIEVAL CHURCH. from Aquinas. But he was a man of original force, and gave his own impress to the materials with which he dealt. He starts with the conception of absolute being, un differentiated, but containing in itself potentially all distinctions. The more immediate products of the dif ferentiation are the Persons of the Trinity. Beyond the circle of the Trinity, by a process of emanation, the different orders of creatures are produced. This ema nation is not conceived as taking place by a blind necessity, apart from the will of Deity; still it is a veritable emanation. Things have real existence only as the being of God is in them. In this general view of the relation of God to the creature there is manifestly a very close affiliation with pantheism. Eckhart, moreover, indulged various specific statements which might give occasion to the charge of pantheistic teaching. We find in his writings such sentences as these: "Before the creatures were, God was not God." " All things are God Himself." " The ground of God and the ground of the soul are one essence." " The Father cannot understand Him self without me." " The eye with which I see God is the eye with which He sees me." " The soul should so renounce its own individual being, that nothing but God remains." The soul in its ground — so he taught in his later years — is uncreated ; and the Son of God is brought forth therein in the same way in which He was brought forth in eternity. These are strong state ments, and their pantheistic sense seems sufficiently unequivocal. But some account must be taken of Eck hart's fondness for paradox. As offsetting features, we THE MYSTICS. 463 may mention his strong emphasis upon man's free will, and his evident intention to teach the permanence of man's personal subsistence. It should be noticed, in praise of Eckhart, that, while he luxuriated in these theosophic flights, he did not forget the demands of practical Christian activity. An inert quietism was no part of his theory. Indeed, he was so far from that type of mysticism that he gave a theoretical preference to the active over the contem plative life. Among those who, in a general way, may be called followers of Eckhart, a foremost place belongs to John Tauler. He was born at Strasburg in 1290. About the age of eighteen he entered the Dominican cloister in his native city. Soon afterwards he began to study at Paris. On his return to Strasburg, as is supposed, he met Eckhart. Under his teaching and also that of the less speculative mystic, Nicolas of Strasburg, his bent to the mystical theology and piety was con firmed. In his chosen path Tauler found many congenial spirits among the so called " Friends of God." This was not a sect, but a kind of pietistic association whose growth was favored by the exigencies of the times. The quarrel which was started by the interference of the Papacy with the Empire in the time of Louis of Bavaria involved prolonged miseries for Germany. Re ligious services were largely interrupted by interdicts. The days were exceedingly dark. For mutual encour agement, those most interested in a spiritual type of piety entered into an association bearing the above name. The society spread widely in Germany. Its 464 THE MEDIJEVAL CHURCH. adherents were especially numerous in the region of the Upper Rhine.1 In the controversies between the civil power and the papacy, Tauler took sides with the former. Counting it an inhuman robbery to deprive the poor people of spiritual consolations, especially during the fearful or deal of the plague which fell upon Strasburg in the year 1348, he refused to observe the papal ban. Not only this : in connection with two co-laborers he sent forth a written protest against the hard and unrighteous dealing of the Pope. This bold course provoked attack, and Tauler was obliged to retire from Strasburg. Little is known of his later years. He died in 1361. Tauler did not elaborate so complete a speculative system as is found with Eckhart. Still he did not limit himself entirely to the practical , aspects of piety. His more radical statements hardly fall short of the most daring propositions of Eckhart. Taken literally, his representations respecting union with God imply a thor ough elimination of finite personality, a sinking back of the soul into the undistinguished essence with which its ground is identical. But it is safe to allow for the exaggeration characteristic of the mystical dialect. In- 1 There was, it has been supposed, a head of the Friends of God, " the great Friend of God from the Oberland," whom Carl Schmidt and others have identified with the layman Nicolas of Basle. A somewhat prolix account is extant purporting to be a narrative of the way in which the layman introduced himself to a distinguished master (Tauler) in the year 1340, and was instrumental in leading him to a more thorough conversion. Recent criticism, however, is inclined to be sceptical re specting this representation, and at any rate to question the identity of Nicolas of Basle with the "Friend of God from the Oberland." (See Heinrich S. Denifle, Taulers Bekehrung ; also Hermann Haupt, Zeit- schrift fur Kirchengeschichte, Band vii. 508, 509.) THE MYSTICS. 465 deed, in apparent contradiction with some of his own representations, Tauler warns against the pantheistic idea of a complete identity with the divine.1 A few sentences from his sermons will indicate the drift of Tauler's thinking on the union of the soul with God. " I have," he says, " a power in my soul which enables me to perceive God. I am as certain as that I live, that nothing is so near to me as God. He is nearer to me than I am to myself." " I tell thee by that Truth, which is God Himself, if thou art ever to become a man after the will of God, everything must die in thee to which thou art cleaving, whether it be God's gifts, or the saints, or the angels, or even all that would afford thee consolation for thy spiritual wants : all must be given up." " This ground and substance of the soul will God possess alone, and will not that any creature should enter therein. In this chamber of the heart God works through means in the one class of men, and without means in the other and more blessed sort. But what He works in the souls of these last, with whom He holds direct converse, none can say, nor can any man give account of it to another, but he only who has felt it knows what it is ; and even he can tell thee nothing of it, save only that God in very truth hath possessed the ground of his soul." " Time and place are parts, and God is one ; therefore, if our soul is to know. God, it must know Him above time and place." " God touches this brimming vessel [the souls of spiritual men] with His finger, and it overflows, and pours itself back again into its Divine Source, from whence it has proceeded. It flows back into its source 1 See Carl Schmidt, Johannes Tauler. 30 466 THE MEDIAEVAL CHURCH. without channel or means, and loses itself altogether; will, knowledge, love, perception, are all swallowed up and lost in God, and become one with Him. Now God loveth Himself in these men, and worketh in them all their works." "While we are beholding, we are not one with that which we behold; so long as there is anything in our perceptions or understandings, we are not one with the One ; for where there is nothing but One, we can see nothing but One ; for we cannot see God except in blindness, or know Him except in igno rance." J In this last, we have in all its length and breadth the Neo-Platonic theory of a transcendental nescience. If Tauler had indulged only in sentiments of this order, he could hardly have been, as he was most as suredly, one of the most popular and effective preachers of his century. A large part of what he said came much nearer to the common understanding, and was eminently adapted to edify and inspire. His sermons still contain food for the religious mind. A deeply spiritual tone characterizes them throughout. They show also clear traces of practical good sense. Tauler was far from directing men to a visionary life. He strongly insisted upon practical righteousness. Let his own words testify. " You should not," he says, " trust in virtue that has not yet been put in practice." " There is no work so small, no art so mean, but it all comes from God, and is a special gift of His." " If I were not a priest, but were living as a layman, I should take it as a great favor that I knew how to make shoes, and should try to make them better than any one else." 1 Translation by Susanna Winkworth. THE MYSTICS. 467 "Our Lord did not rebuke Martha on account of her1 works, for they were holy and good ; He reproved her on account of her anxiety." " If, when at thy work, thou shouldest feel thy spirit stirred within thee, receive it with solemn joy, and thus learn to do thy work in God, instead of straightway fleeing from thy task." A contemporary of Tauler, destined like him to a wide and long-continued appreciation, was Henry Suso (1295-1366). At the age of thirteen he entered the Dominican cloister in Constance. After ten years of severe discipline, which his earnest spirit imposed upon him, he carried forward his education at Strasburg and Cologne. For some years preceding 1336 he was prior at Constance. Accusation of heresy caused him to be deposed from this position. But he was not troubled further on account of his faith, and soon by his writings greatly extended his fame and popularity. His Horolo- gium osternce Sapiential, completed in 1338, speedily at tained a wide circulation. Suso shared to a conspicuous degree the speculative views of Eckhart, though far from being his equal in genius for speculation. As compared with Tauler, he was a man of less practical force. The emotional ele ment was peculiarly his dower, and the quickness and warmth of his sympathies were made manifest both in his writings and his converse. Through these traits he naturally was qualified to minister effectively to women. Many sisters in the cloisters were stimulated by him to enthusiastic piety, and many daughters of nobles were incited by his influence to renounce the world. Shortly after Tauler and Suso had passed off the stage, an important movement took place in the Neth- 468 THE MEDIAEVAL CHURCH. erlands. We refer to the rise of the society known as the Brethren of the Common Life. Before its organi zation, mystical piety had found in the Netherlands an enthusiastic representative. This was Ruysbroek, long a priest at Brussels, in his later years an inmate of the cloister of Griinthal. Throughout his long life (1293- 1381) he was a man who delighted in spiritual con templations. His fervor sometimes led him, like his distinguished contemporaries in Germany, to over-em phatic expressions respecting the union of man and God. Gerson, though highly pleased with some parts of Ruysbroek's writings, thought it necessary to cen sure others as tinged with pantheistic heterodoxy.1 Ullmann, however, concludes that the fault was rather in expression than in belief, that a total survey of the writings of Ruysbroek must lead to the conclusion that his standpoint was theistic rather than pantheistic.2 The devotion of Ruysbroek, freed from the element of dubious speculation, was represented by the Brethren of the Common Life. The founder of this association was a younger contemporary of Ruysbroek, his friend and admirer, Gerhard Groot (1340-1384). In Gerhard the bent to action was more prominent than that to con templation. He was an energetic preacher, and travelled largely for the sake of bringing the gospel message to the people. At the same time he took a great interest in the spread of religious literature, and employed asso ciates in multiplying copies of good books. The sug gestion that those employed in this way might live more economically by having all things in common, was the 1 Gerson's mysticism was much like that of the Victorines. 2 Reformatoren vor der Reformation. THE MYSTICS. 469 occasion of his institute. First a house for the new brotherhood was established at his native place in Deventer. Soon the association had houses in many places. These houses differed from monasteries in that no irrevocable vow was imposed, and the life of the brethren was not fettered by an elaborate rule. A single house contained about twenty members. At first the proportion of priests was small ; later the relative number of those in orders increased. Besides houses for men, there were also those for women. Soon after the death of the founder, in accordance with a plan which he had broached, houses of canons regular were added to the brotherhood. An eminently useful vocation was fulfilled by the Brethren of the Common Life. They gave an example of industrious and pious living. By zeal in multiplying books, by preaching, and by lectures, they greatly helped to diffuse religious intelligence. The explicit emphasis which some of their number placed upon the translation of the Scriptures into the vernacular, and upon their general use by the people, served to enlarge the sphere of enlightened sentiment on this subject. Especially fruitful of good was their relation to the instruction and training of youth. In some instances they made a free connection with existing schools, supplying shelter and aid to those in attendance. In other cases they had schools of their own. Tuition was remitted to the indi gent. So a multitude received from them the stamp of a pious education. It was under the fostering influences of this associa tion that Thomas a Kempis developed the lofty piety which found immortal expression in the " Imitation of 470 THE MEDIEVAL CHURCH. Christ." Thomas was born in 1380, at the town of Kempen, in the diocese of Cologne. At the age of thir teen he was sent to the school at Deventer, where he enjoyed the kind offices of the Brethren of the Com mon Life. After a happy sojourn here of seven years, Thomas proceeded, by the advice of Florentius, the suc cessor of Gerhard Groot, to join the house of canons regular which had been instituted at Mount St. Agnes. In this cloister, absorbed in literary and religious labors, he pursued the even course of his quiet and contempla tive life. He died at an advanced age, in 1471. The spiritual proverbs and meditations of Thomas a Kempis, as they are gathered in his noted work, maybe regarded as largely expressing the spirit of the brother hood to which he belonged. The speculative and the dogmatic had a subordinate place. A piety at once mystical and practical, having indeed more of a monas tic coloring than belongs to the purest ideal, still of a very noble and spiritual type, was cultivated by Thomas a Kempis and by many of his associates. As is observed by Ullmann, their relation to the Roman Catholic Church and the theology of the day resembled that of the Pietists to the strict Lutheranism of the seventeenth century. Their aim was a reform of life, rather than of dogmas. There was, it is true, a dogmatic tendency in their subjective type of piety. The little stress which they placed upon the outward organism of the Church was not in the direction of the strict Romish con ception. But this tendency was not a matter of con scious design. They had no ambition to innovate upon the existing theological system ; they only wished to give it the best practical application. There was THE MYSTICS. 471 one, however, the earlier stages of whose education were largely shaped by them, who apprehended in a measure the need of dogmatic reform. We speak of John Wessel. This distinguished forerunner of Luther was born at Groningen in 1419 or 1420. Being by nature of a ra tional turn of mind, averse to superstition, inclined to demand substantial grounds for belief, he had a special aptitude for a critical examination of the current dog matic system. To this were added extraordinary educa tional advantages. He acquired Greek and Hebrew. As scholar or teacher, he attended the leading universi ties of Europe. Proceeding in early manhood from the instruction of the Brethren of the Common Life, he stud ied at the University of Cologne. Later, through a long series of years, he sojourned at Paris, Louvain, Rome, various cities of Italy, and Heidelberg. Equipped with the fruits of this ample and varied tuition, he de voted the last decade of his life to those literary la bors which made him a conspicuous factor in the great Reformation of the following century. Luther gave an emphatic testimony to the kinship of Wessel's teaching with that of the Reformation, when he said that it might seem as though he had taken all his doctrines from his distinguished predecessor. This is beyond the proper limits. Still, Wessel proceeded far toward the standpoint of the Reformation. He em phatically denied the necessity of the papal headship. He declared that the Church is founded upon the Scrip tures, and not the Scriptures upon the Church. He assumed the fallibility of the Pope and the hierarchy. While allowing a certain presumption in favor of an 472 THE MEDIAEVAL CHURCH. opinion upon which many learned bishops have agreed, he maintained that such an opinion will still bear in vestigation, and that in prosecuting this investigation greater reverence must be paid to the Scriptures than to any verdict whatever of men. He clearly acknowl edged the common priesthood of believers. If he did not openly reject the Romish dogma respecting the real body of Christ in the eucharist, he laid the whole stress upon the spiritual appropriation of Christ by meditation and faith, and claimed that the essential grace of the sacrament may be received apart from the visible ele ments. He denied that the priest has any judicial func tion in the sacrament of penance, and reprobated the notion that forgiveness is conditioned upon works of satisfaction. He denounced indulgences as having no warrant either in Scripture, tradition, or reason. He de nied the penal character of the discipline in purgatory, regarded the purifying fire as a spiritual agency, namely, the presence of God and His truth, and maintained that the interior advancement of the subject toward complete purity, rather than the power of the Church, determines the duration of the purgatorial process. In fine, Wessel exhibited a faculty for rational criticism and insight which entitles him to an honored place among the her alds of the Reformation.1 1 See Ullmann, Reformatoren vor der Reformation. CHAPTER VIII. SAVONAROLA. HPHE career of Savonarola was not so far reaching in •*¦ its results as that of Wycliffe and Huss. But if his influence was circumscribed, it was peculiarly in tense in the field which it covered. Few men have ex ercised a more potent influence over any community than was wielded by Girolamo Savonarola over Flor ence in the last decade of the fifteenth century. He was born at Ferrara in 1452. His life, therefore, fell in one of the most corrupt eras in the history of the Church. Before he had reached the age of manhood, that succession of godless pontiffs had begun which contains the names of Sixtus IV, Innocent VIII., and Alexander VI. The twin vices, ferocity and sensuality, were rampant in Italy as never before perhaps, since the days of the pagan Empire. The renaissance in art and literature was far from being accompanied by a re vival of piety. While in other quarters the new zeal for classic learning was commonly associated with a spirit of reform, in Italy it was largely associated with unbelief and secularism. Circles of the cultured might be found in such places as Florence and Rome, who evidently had more sympathy with classic heathenism than with Christianitv. 474 THE MEDIEVAL CHURCH. Serious and devout from childhood, Savonarola was naturally revolted by the moral and religious apostasy of the age. Following the usual expedient of earnest pi ety in mediaeval times, he betook himself to the cloister. At the age of twenty-three he joined the Dominicans in Bologna. Near the close of the year 1482, he proceeded by the direction of his order to Florence, as teacher of the novices in the cloister of San Marco. The next year, he was called upon to exercise his talents as a preacher. The result was far from being prophetic of his oratorical fame. The people were not interested, and declined to hear his message. But the fire was al ready burning in the heart of the devoted monk, and must needs command effective utterance. More willing listeners were found in other places. The tone of a high-wrought enthusiasm began to blend with his mes sage. In his exposition of the Apocalypse at Brescia, in 1486, he gave a premonition of his prophetic vocation in the earnestness and confidence with which he urged his warnings and counsels. In 1489, near the end of the rule of that distinguished representative of the Medici family, Lorenzo the Mag nificent, Savonarola returned to Florence. Two years later he became prior of San Marco. It was chiefly, however, as the impassioned preacher that he made his power felt. In striking contrast with his former ill success, he now commanded the attention of vast throngs. His theme and his manner were both awaken ing. Coming into the pulpit with a mind steeped in the visions of the Apocalypse, he used its bold imagery to paint the on-coming judgments of God. The corruptions of the Church, the impending chastisements of Heaven, SAVONAROLA. 475 the necessity and the certainty of reform, were the ever- recurring thoughts which he endeavored to burn into the minds of the people. He presented the mien of a prophet ; yea, assumed for himself positively the func tions of a prophet. This with him assuredly was no art of deception. The anticipations which took such defi nite shape in his mind he believed to be revelations from above.1 A multitude of the people also believed in his prophetic office. Says that great exponent of state-craft, Machiavelli : " The people of Florence seem not to be ignorant or rude. Nevertheless, they have been convinced by Fra Girolamo that he speaks with God. I will not decide whether it is true or not ; for concerning so great a man it behooves us to speak with reverence. But multitudes believed it, and it sufficed for their faith, without seeing anything wonderful from him, to regard his life, his teaching, and the tendency of his career." 2 As to the merits of this claim to pro phetic powers, it would be no superstition to acknowl edge a marked impress of the Spirit in his longings for the renovation of the Church, and possibly also in his presentiments of coming reform. It must be allowed, moreover, that some of his specific predictions, as those relating to the invasion of Charles VIII. and his own martyrdom, seem to have been fulfilled. Others, how- i In numerous passages he distinctly claims for them this origin. But in some instances he seems to arrogate no higher enUghtenment than any well instructed Christian might attain through familiarity with the Bible, and reflection on the condition and needs of the Church. As Villari concludes, it is impossible fully to harmonize Savonarola with himself on this subject. (Life and Times of Girolamo Savonarola, translated from the Italian by Linda Villari.) 2 Quoted by Karl Hase, Neue Propheten. 476 THE MEDIJEVAL CHURCH. ever, such as the conversion of the Turks and the sig nal prosperity of Florence after her season of chastise ment, failed of any adequate realization. Taking his prophesying as a whole, there is reason to regard it as rather the product of an ardent fancy, intense convic tions, and burning desires for the reform of the Church, than the result of specific communications from God. Florence for a time bowed to the authority of her prophet. The invasion of Charles VIII. in 1494, as be ing incidental to the expulsion of the Medici family, who naturally were opposed to the bold preacher, tended to increase his importance. A conspicuous part was assigned to him in the inauguration of the popular gov ernment which followed the expulsion. At the request of the citizens, Savonarola drew the outlines of the new constitution. His draft was by no means discreditable. A republic based on a limited suffrage, with an execu tive board, and with two assemblies, a larger and a smaller, for legislative purposes, — these were the main features in the scheme. There was nothing here par ticularly savoring of theocratic notions. The plan of government as presented by Savonarola was fully within the bounds of statesmanlike sobriety. It was only in the part which he took as prophet or oracle, over against the civil government, that he verged on the theocratic extreme. His pulpit for several years was the real throne in Florence. While his desires for the purifica tion of morals were by no means fully realized, there were still conspicuous tokens of a transformation. The most marked of these perhaps was the new style of car nival which was inaugurated in February, 1497, an auto de fS of vanities, at which a vast collection of articles SAVONAROLA. 477 of luxury and ostentation — masks, dresses, instruments of music, books of doubtful tendency, etc. — were pub licly burned in the marketplace. This date marks the culmination of Savonarola's influence. Opposition had never been wanting ; henceforth it advanced toward the proportions of an overwhelming tide. Young nobles, disliking the re straints put upon them, and the partisans of the Med ici, spared no pains to stir up enmity against the bold preacher. Such found naturally an ally in the un principled Pope, Alexander VI. At first he proceeded in a rather temporizing manner. He invited Savona rola to Rome (1495), ostensibly to a friendly con ference ; then inhibited his preaching ; then sought through an agent to buy him off from his reformatory work with the red hat of a cardinal. Savonarola re tired from the pulpit for a short interval. To the offer of a cardinal's place he refused all consideration, and declared that he desired no other red hat than one red with the blood of martyrdom. The Pope for his part was not loath to bestow the coveted honor ; indeed, he is said to have expressed his final resolution respecting the prophet monk in these fierce terms : " Though he were John the Baptist, he must die." Sentence of excommunication was issued in 1497. For a time, Savonarola had sufficient support to be able to discard the Pope's ban. But at length the party of his oppo nents gained the ascendency. Shortly afterwards, the people were alienated by the miscarriage of a proposed ordeal by fire, which Savonarola had reluctantly allowed to be undertaken between a monk of his order and a Franciscan. 478 THE MEDIAEVAL CHURCH. The scale was now effectually turned against the re former. He was apprehended with mob-like violence, condemned by a cruel and arbitrary process, during which he was several times put to the torture, hanged upon a cross-shaped gibbet with two devoted adherents of his order (May 23, 1498), and burned. The ashes of the martyrs were cast into the Arno. Savonarola died convinced of the righteousness of his cause. The excruciating pains of torture may have wrung from him some half-involuntary expres sions which might be construed into a confession of error respecting his prophetical vocation. But he meant at heart no such confession, as he himself de clared more than once when he was freed from the torments. The final ordeal was met by him with quiet heroism. The feeling with which he looked toward the shameful death is indicated by his own words. " My Lord," he said, " was willing to die for my sins ; should not I be willing from love to Him to surrender this poor life ? " As powerfully emphasizing the need of reform, and stirring up thought in that direction, Savonarola may be numbered among the forerunners of the Protestant Reformation. It should be understood, however, that we find with him no distinct anticipation of the Protes tant creed. He accepted the whole list of Roman Catholic dogmas which claimed general assent in his time. He revered even the prerogatives of the Roman pontiff, only claiming the right to appeal from a pope who, like Alexander VI., had been virtually discrowned by his iniquities. His affiliation with Protestantism was in spirit rather than in formal belief, and appears SAVONAROLA. 479 especially in his attachment to the Scriptures, and his disposition to appeal directly to the grace of God in Jesus Christ. Whatever errors of judgment he may be charged with, one cannot fail to recognize in Savonarola a man of rare piety and exemplary singleness of purpose. We are sure that we are presented with the genuine ex pressions of a deep and sincere heart, when we read such lofty sentiments from his pen as the following : " I will endure all things for the sake of that redeeming love which makes all other things sweet and pleasant to me. This is sufficient for me, and fills up all my de sires. This is my exceeding great reward." " Thou, Lord, art my supreme good, without admixture of evil; Thou art my joy without sorrow, my strength without weakness, my essential truth without error ; Thou, Lord, art my all in all. Thou kindlest the af fections into love, and canst beatify all the powers of the mind and the heart." " Behold, O my God, how great are Thy mercies! Time would be insufficient to enumerate them. No man can glory in himself. Let all the just in heaven and earth stand forth, that in Thy presence we may interrogate them, if it be by their own merits they have been deemed worthy to obtain salvation ; assuredly will they all respond, ' Not unto us, but to Thy name, give glory for Thy mercy and Thy truth.' " Though condemned by the Pope in terms of strong denunciation, Savonarola has by no means been regarded with universal disfavor in the Roman Catholic Church. The publication of his writings was only temporarily estopped by Alexander VI. The Congregation of the 480 THE MEDIAEVAL CHURCH. Index, which examined them in 1558, took but little ex ception to them. Not a few have been willing to grant the saintship of Savonarola. Even a Pope (Benedict XIV.) is said to have allowed that he was worthy of canonization. CHAPTER IX. THE MEDIEVAL GREEK CHURCH, THE more important events in the history of the Greek Church, after the close of the iconoclastic controversy, grew out of its relation to the imperial government. Schemes and projects of the Emperor gave rise to the principal agitations that occurred. It will be fitting, therefore, to take a glance at the for tunes of the Eastern Empire before directing our atten tion to ecclesiastical affairs. A little more than a score of years from the close of the iconoclastic controversy, a distinguished dynasty came to the throne at Constantinople. The founder was Basilius I., whose deed of blood put aside the un worthy Michael III. The Basilian dynasty ruled for nearly two centuries (867-1057). During this time the Empire attained an unusual degree of prosperity. The wave of Mohammedan invasion was turned back, and encroachments from other directions were successfully repelled. " Antioch and Edessa were reunited to the Empire. The Bulgarian monarchy was conquered, and the Danube became again the northern frontier. The Slavonians in Greece were almost exterminated. Byzan tine commerce filled the whole Mediterranean, and legitimated the claim of the Emperor to the title of 31 482 THE MEDIAEVAL CHURCH. ' Autocrat of the Mediterranean Sea.' " J This pros perity, however, was not without its offset. Under the Basilian line the government became, even more than in the preceding centuries, concentrated in the sovereign. Responsibility to the State was merged in responsibility to the Emperor, and self-respecting officials gave way very largely to the subservient creatures of an auto cratic will.2 Following the Basilian line, we have a period reach ing down to the conquest of Constantinople by the cru saders (1057-1204). During this period the house of Comnenus was in power. It is commonly characterized as a time of decline. The loyalty of the more distant provinces waned. Byzantine society in general was depressed by grievous burdens of taxation. That re serve power which belongs to a healthy moral tone was largely wanting, and tended to diminish more and more under the corrupting example of the court. Thus it came about that some twenty thousand crusaders were able to take possession of the throne at Constantino ple, and that the domination of the Latin intruders was endured for upwards of half a century. During the period of Latin rule the Empire was dis membered into a number of sections. Aside from Con stantinople, Trebizond and Nicaea claimed each to have the true heir to the throne, and to be the seat of impe rial sovereignty. The last city in the end verified its title. On the downfall of the Latin power, the sceptre was transferred from Nicaea to Constantinople by Michael 1 George Finlay, History of the Byzantine Empire. 2 G. F. Hertzberg, Geschichte der Byzantiner und des Osmanischen Reiches. THE MEDIAEVAL GREEK CHURCH. 483 Palaeologus (1261). The restored Empire, however, was not that of previous times. Its territory was nar row, and tended ever to more contracted limits, espe cially from the end of the thirteenth century, when Othman led his Turks into Bithynia. The administra tion was not of the order required to meet successfully the enormous difficulties of the situation. Distinguished neither by honesty nor vigor, given to an intriguing and wavering policy, the house of Palaeologus was ill quali fied to save the Empire. Its greatest honor was won by its last representative. Constantine XI. refused to survive the final catastrophe (1453), and fell valiantly fighting against the victorious Turks, who planted the crescent over the city which had revered the cross for more than a thousand years. The desperate straits of the Empire in the later stages of its history explain the concessions that were made to the Latins, at various times, as conditions of a reunion of the two branches of the Church. All such conces sions were inspired by the government, were political expedients on the part of the sovereign, and were re pudiated at the first opportunity by the general voice of the Greek communion. Take for example the union scheme which was patronized by the founder of the house of Palaeologus. This Emperor was placed in a difficult position. His relation with the Greeks was somewhat compromised by the fact that he had played the part of a usurper, having taken the reins of gov ernment during the minority of the rightful heir, and having refused later to lay them down. With the Lat ins also he was open to the charge of usurpation, since he had overthrown the Latin dominion at Constanti- 484 THE MEDIAEVAL CHURCH. nople. He had abundant reasons, therefore, to take measures for his own security, especially as it became apparent that Charles of Anjou, King of Sicily, was de termined to capture the Eastern capital. As a means of persuading the Pope to put a curb on Charles, the Emperor agreed to a union scheme involving an ac knowledgment of the Latin dogma respecting the Holy Spirit and the acceptance of the papal supremcy. Such a scheme was subscribed by his representatives at the Council of Lyons in 1274. Begotten in diplomacy, the project also ended in diplomacy. The Eastern Church, rather alienated than conciliated by such means, re mained as remote as before from fellowship with the Western branch, and under the next Emperor the union was openly repudiated. Union projects equally artificial and equally fruitless were attempted by some of the sovereigns of the four teenth century. But the most noted effort of this kind occurred in the fifteenth century, in connection with the Council of Florence (1438). As the price of Latin as sistance against the fatal encroachments of the Turks, the Emperor John VII. was willing to sacrifice the pride and independence of the Eastern Church. Present in person at the council, with the Greek patriarch and the leading bishops, he constrained the whole delegation, with the exception of the Bishop of Ephesus, to sub scribe terms of union agreeable to the Pope. These terms included assent, (1) to the Latin doctrine of the double procession of the Spirit ; (2) to the propriety of using unleavened as well as leavened bread in the Lord's Supper ; (3) to the fact of a purgatory in the other world, the inmates of which may be assisted by THE MEDIAEVAL GREEK CHURCH. 485 the good offices of the Church in this world ; (4) to the papal supremacy. The price was paid to the full at Florence , but the hoped for return was not forthcom ing. The bishops who had humbled themselves to ac quiescence in the demands of the West were met with such a storm of popular reprobation, that many of them condemned and retracted their own subscription to the obnoxious compact. Under such circumstances, the zeal of the Latins for the relief of Constantinople, lan guid enough in any case, was far from being quickened into liberality and enthusiasm. So the doomed city passed on to its fate. As respects theological developments, the Greek Church in these centuries offers little that is worthy of attention. While there may have been a certain activ ity of mind, it was not of a fruitful order. Disputation, where it took on any semblance of originality, dealt mainly with subjects little worthy of serious considera tion. Thus, it is recorded that the question whether the light of the transfiguration scene was created or uncre ated light occasioned the assembling of several synods near the middle of the fourteenth century. x Among mediaeval Greek scholars, several pertain ing to the eleventh and the twelfth centuries occupy a leading place. Here belong Theophylact, Nice- tas Choniates, Euthymius Zigabenus, Nicolaus of Me- thone, and Eustathius. The last in this list, according to Neander, is entitled, in virtue of his pure character and intelligent understanding of the claims of prac tical piety, to be called the Chrysostom of the twelfth century. i Gieseler, § 128. 486 THE MEDIJEVAL CHURCH. The inauguration of Turkish rule at Constantinople did not overthrow its ecclesiastical headship in the Greek Church. On the contrary, the conqueror, Mo hammed II., early took occasion to strengthen the allegiance of his Greek subjects by proclaiming him self the protector of their Church, and providing for the continuance of the patriarchal dignity. George Scho- larios (or Gennadios), an ecclesiastic who had been especially conspicuous in the preceding years for his hostility to the union with the Latins, was the first to receive the high office at the hands of a Moham medan sultan. An important adjunct to the rule of the Greek patri arch, after the close of the tenth century, was found in the Russian Church. As the Russians had received Christianity from Constantinople, so they readily ac knowledged the ecclesiastical headship of its patriarch. Instances are indeed on record in which the Russian metropolitan was installed without the co-operation of the patriarch.1 But a general token of supremacy was yielded to the latter, in that the metropolitan was con secrated by his hand. The original metropolitan seat was Kieff. For an interval, during the devastations of the Tartars, it was transferred to Vladimir. In 1320 i*-- was located at Moscow. The metropolitan, as the immediate head of the Russian Church, exercised very important preroga tives. He consecrated the bishops, assembled synods, disciplined the unworthy and disobedient among the clergy, anointed the sovereign at his coronation, and stood in close relations with him as an honored adviser. 1 Strahl, Geschichte des russischen Staats, vol. i. THE MEDIAEVAL GREEK CHURCH. 487 While tenacious of his spiritual prerogatives, he mani fested for the most part a prudent deference to the will of the sovereign in secnlar matters. As the same tem per characterized the Russian hierarchy in general, it was not often that there was any serious collision be tween the spiritual and the temporal order. In its ceremonial, and the general tone and ordering of religious life, the Russian Church followed the Byzan tine type, only the copy among a rude people was nat urally somewhat less refined than the original. Very great account was made of pictures as an aid to wor ship. As in mediaeval Europe generally, so also in Rus sia monasticism was an important factor in religious life and theological culture. The cloisters afforded the principal means of learning. However, it was a very limited contribution which they supplied. As for the secular priest, taken at the average he was a being of exceedingly humble attainments, scarcely able him self to understand the poorly translated homilies of the fathers which he sometimes read to the people. The relative lack of intellectual activity and progress in the Russian Church was but one phase in the back wardness of Russian civilization in general. Long after the modern era had dawned upon other portions of Europe, Russia, as is well known, remained fixed in her ancestral customs. This retardation may be ex plained in part by the comparative isolation of the country. Besides this, and in a manner accessory to it, we have the fact of long subjection to Tartar rule, which gave prominence to Oriental connections as op posed to European. Speaking of the effects of this rule, a recent historian says : " By separating Russia 488 THE MEDIAEVAL CHURCH. from the West, by making it a pohtical dependency of Asia, it perpetuated in the country that Byzantine half- civilization whose inferiority to European civilization became daily more obvious." J The Tartar avalanche touched the borders of Russia in 1224. It was at this date that a lieutenant of Gen ghis Khan (1154-1227), whose conquests had already covered one of the largest domains ever ruled by a single sceptre, coming through the region of the Cau casus, entered the southern steppes of Russia. Re sponding to the call of a neighboring tribe for aid, the Russian forces marched against the invaders. They suffered a total defeat before the impetuous hosts of the Tartars. Subsequent encounters were equally dis astrous. Russia became a part of the Mongol empire. For upwards of two centuries its princes were in tributary relations to the victor, who held the su premacy over the country, but did not largely occupy its soil. The Tartar yoke . was thrown off by Ivan the Third (1462-1505). In another respect, also, the reign of this sovereign is noteworthy. Through the good offices of the Pope, the Byzantine princess Sophia, a niece of the last sovereign from the house of Palaeologus, was given in marriage to Ivan. Her entrance into the realm brought new means of intellectual quickening. " With Sophia," says Rambaud, "a multitude of Greek emi grants came to Moscow, not only from Rome, but from Constantinople and Greece. They gave to Rus sia statesmen, diplomatists, engineers, artists, and theo logians. They brought with them Greek books, the 1 Alfred Rambaud, History of Russia, vol. i. [THE MEDIAEVAL GREEK CHURCH. 489 priceless inheritance of ancient civilization." In this way a new impulse was given to learning and enter prise. The change, however, was not sufficient to can cel the general aspect of immobility in the Russian civilization. CHAPTER X. MEDIEVAL HYMNS, ARCHITECTURE, AND FAINTING. I. — HYMNS. 1. Greek Hymns. — It has been noticed that the crowning era of Greek hymnology began in the eighth century. This era was represented by Andrew of Crete, John of Damascus, Cosmas of Jerusalem, Theo dore of the Studium, Theophanes, and others. Among these John of Damascus bears the palm according to the verdict of competent critics. His more celebrated hymns are the three canons on Easter, the Ascension, and St. Thomas's Sunday. The triumphant strain with which the first of these opens is well known through Neale's version. 'T is the Day of Resurrection, Earth, tell it out abroad! The Passover of gladness, The Passover of God I From death to life eternal, From earth unto the sky, Our Christ hath brought us over, With hymns of victory.1 1 'Avaardo-etos 7j/j.4pa, \afnrpvv6aficv \aol, Tldo'xa Kvplov, Tldo-xa. 'Ek yap Bavdrov irpbs C&>V, Kal 4k yfjs vpbs ovpavbv, Xpiffrbs i ®ebs r)p.as SiePtfiao-ev, ivivliaov £p$oi>Tas. MEDIAEVAL HYMNS. 491 Cosmas, the foster brother of John of Damascus, and his close companion in literary labors, composed noted canons on the Nativity, the Epiphany, and the Transfiguration. We quote a couple of stanzas from the last : — In days of old on Sinai The Lord Jehovah came, In majesty of terror, In thunder-cloud and flame: On Tabor, -with the glory Of sunniest light for vest, The excellence of beauty In Jesus was expressed. All hours and days inclined there, And did Thee worship meet; The sun himself adored Thee, And bowed him at thy feet; While Moses and Elias Upon the holy mount The co-eternal glory Of Christ our God recount. Among the productions of Theodore of the Studium is a judgment hymn, not equal, to be sure, to the in comparable " Dies Irae " of the Latin Church, but showing not a little of the strength and solemnity of tone befitting the theme. The following is a part of the first ode : — That fearful day, that day of speechless dread, When Thou shalt come to judge the quick and dead,— I shudder to foresee, O God! what then shall be I 492 THE MEDIAEVAL CHURCH. When Thou shalt come, angelic legions round With thousand thousands, and with trumpet sound, Christ, grant me in the air With saints to meet Thee there. Weep, 0 my soul, ere that great hour and day, When God shall shine in manifest array, Thy sin, that thou may'st be In that strict judgment free. In the early part of the third era, the most prolific writer of hymns was Joseph, surnamed Hymnographus, the contemporary and friend of the distinguished Pho tius. Though enjoying great popularity in the Greek Church, his labored effusions, with their burden of ver biage and bombast, have little that is worthy of interest or attention. 2. Latin Hymns. — Distinguished service was ren dered to Latin hymnology at the end of the sixth and the beginning of the seventh century by the Roman Bishop Gregory the Great, and by Venantius Fortuna- tus, Bishop of Poitiers at the time of his death. In the matter of composing hymns the contribution of Greg ory may not have been of special note ; his contem porary was much more eminent in this respect. Still, Gregory rendered a very important service to the cause of sacred song, in that he gave an improved organiza tion to the church music. Among the numerous pro ductions of Fortunatus, two of his passion hymns have elicited special attention, and from these the following extracts have been taken. MEDIAEVAL HYMNS. 493 Vexilla regis prodeunt,1 Fulget crucis mysterium, Suo carne carnis conditor Suspensus est patibulo. Arbor decora et f ulgida Ornata regis purpura, Electa digno stipite Tarn sancta membra tangere. Beata, cujus brachiis Pretium pependit sseculi, Statera facta corporis Prsedam tulitque tartarL Pange lingua gloriosi 2 Prselium certaminis, Et super crucis trophseo Die triumphum nobilem, Qualiter redemptor orbis Immolatus vicerit. l The royal banners forward go : The cross shines forth with mystic glow Where He in flesh, our flesh who made, Our sentence bore, our ransom paid. 0 tree of beauty ! tree of light! 0 tree with royal purple dight ! Elect upon whose faithful breast Those holy limbs should find their rest ! On whose dear arms, so widely flung, The weight of this world's ransom hung, The price of human kind to pay, And spoil the spoiler of his prey I 2 Sing, my tongue, the glorious battle, with completed victory rife, And above the cross's trophy, tell the triumph of the strife ; How the world's Redeemer conquered, by surrendering of his life. 494 THE MEDIAEVAL CHURCH. Hie acetum, fel, arundo Sputa, clavi, lancea Mite corpus perforatur, Sanguis unda profluit, Terra, pontus, astra, mundus Quo lavantur flumine. Crux ftdelis, inter omnes Arbor una nobilis, Nulla talem sylva profert Fronde, flore, germine, Dulce lignum, dulces clavos, Dulce pondus sustinens. Flecte ramos, arbor alta, Tensa laxa viscera, Et rigor lentescat ille, Quern dedit nativitas, Ut superni membra regis Miti tendas stipite. Sola dig n a tu fuisti Ferre pretium saeculi, Atque portum prseparare Nauta mundo naufrago, He endured the shame and spitting, vinegar, and nails, and reed; As His blessed side is opened, water thence and blood proceed : Earth, and sky, and stars, and ocean, by that flood are cleansed indeed. Faithful cross ! above all other, one and only noble tree ! None in foliage, none in blossom, none in fruit, thy peers may be ; Sweetest wood and sweetest iron, sweetest weight is hung on thee ! Bend thy boughs, 0 tree of glory ! thy relaxing sinews bend ; For a while the ancient rigor, that thy birth bestowed, suspend; And the King of heavenly beauty on thy bosom gently tend. Thou alone wast counted worthy this world's ransom to uphold; For a shipwrecked race preparing harbor, like the ark of old : With the sacred blood anointed from the wounded Lamb that rolled. MEDIEVAL HYMNS. 495 Quern sacer cruor perunxit, Fusus agni corpore. The noblest hymn in the three centuries following the era of Fortunatus was the Veni, Creator Spiritus. It has been variously attributed to Gregory the Great, to Charlemagne, and to Rabanus Maurus. The last mentioned seems to have the superior claim. We give it in full : — Veni, Creator Spiritus, Mentes tuorum visita. Imple superna gratia Quae tu creasti pectora. Qui Paracletus diceris, Donum Dei altissimi, Fons vivus, ignis, charitas, Et spiritalis unctio. Tu septiformis munere, Dextrse Dei tu digitus, Tu rite Promissum Patris, Sermone ditans guttura. Accende lumen sensibus, Infunde amorem cordibus; Infirma nostri corporis, Virtute firmans perpetim. Hostem repellas longius, Pacemque dones protinus. Ductore sic te prsevio, Vitemus omne noxium. [Da gaudiorum prsemia, Da gratiarum munera, Dissolve litis vincula, Astringe pads fcedera.] 496 THE MEDIEVAL CHURCH. Per te sciamus da, Patrem, Noscamus atque Filium, Te utriusque Spiritum, Credamus omni tempore. Another hymn of peculiar merit, in celebration of the offices of the Holy Spirit, was produced in the middle ages. It has commonly been associated with King Robert of France (970-1030). Veni, Sancte Spiritus, Et emitte ccelitus Lucis tuse radium. Veni, Pater pauperum, Veni, dator munerum, Veni, lumen cordium. Consolator optime, Dulcis hospes animas, Dulce refrigerium: In labore requies, In sestu temperies, In fletu solatium. O lux beatissima, Keple cordis intima, Tuorum fidelium. Sine tuo numine Nihil est in homine, Nihil est innoxium. Lava quod est sordidum, Riga quod est aridum, Sana quod est saucium. Flecte quod est rigidum, Fove quod est languidum, Rege quod est devium. MEDIAEVAL HYMNS. 497 Da tuis fldelibus, In te confitentibus, Sacrum septenarium; Da virtutis meritum, Da salutis exitum, Da perenne gaudium. Notker, a monk of St. Gall, who lived in the interval between Charlemagne and King Robert, has the dis tinction of introducing sequences, a hymn in rhythmical prose, quite similar to the ode of the Eastern Church. Among the hymn-writers of the eleventh century mention may be made of Fulbert of Chartres, and the Cardinal Damiani, the friend of Hildebrand. Damiani is supposed to have been the author of the hymn on the Glory and Joys of Paradise, though it has sometimes been attributed to Augustine. We select a few stanzas from the midst of its description of the celestial country. Virent prata, vernant sata, rivi mellis influant ; Pigmentoruin spirat odor, liquor et aromatum ; Pendent poma floridorum non lapsura nemorum. Non alternat luna vices, sol, vel cursus siderum ; Agnus est felicis urbis lumen inocciduum, Nox et tempus desunt ei, diem fert continuum. Nam et sancti quique velut sol prseclarus rutilant, Post triumphum coronati mutue conjubilant, Et prostrati pugnas hostis jam securi numerant. Hildebert, who became Archbishop of Tours in 1125, wrote extensively : indeed, he is credited with no less than ten thousand verses. We quote the very animated description of heaven which forms the concluding part of his Oratio Devotissima ad Tres Personas SS. Trinitatis. 498 THE MEDIEVAL CHURCH. Me receptet Syon ilia, Syon, David urbs tranquilla, Cujus faber Auctor lucis, Cujus portse lignum crucis, Cujus muri lapis vivus, Cujus custos Rex festivus. In hac urbe lux solennis, Ver seternum, pax perennis ; In hac odor implens ccelos, In hac semper festum melos ; Non est ibi corruptela, Non defectus, non querela ; Non minuti, non deformes, Omnes Christo sunt conformes. Urbs ccelestis, urbs beata, Super petram collocata, Urbs in portu satis tuto, De longinquo te saluto, Te saluto, te suspiro, Te affecto, te requiro. Quantum tui gratulantur, Quam festive eonvivantur, Quis affectus eos stringat, Aut quae gemma muros pingat, Quis chalcedon, quis jacinthus, Novunt illi qui sunt intus. In plateis hujus urbis, Sociatus piia turbis, Cum Moyse et Eli&, Pium cantem Alleluya. Amen. Among the hymnists of the twelfth century an illus trious place belongs to Bernard of Clairvaux. Indeed, in certain respects he was unsurpassed by any in the whole list of mediaeval writers. No one of them ex celled him in the expression of impassioned love for MEDIJEVAL HYMNS. 499 Christ. No one of them equalled him as respects ap preciation for the inner Christ, Christ dwelling iu the heart of the believer as his deep joy and complete satis faction. • Protestant hymn-books very generally have been enriched by extracts from the hymn in which this feature is especially prominent, the Jesu, Dulds Memoria, a poem of about two hundred lines. We need therefore to quote only a few stanzas to indicate the character of the Latin verse : — Jesu, dulcis memoria, Dans vera cordi gaudia, Sed super mel et omnia Ejus dulcis prsesentia. Nil canitur suavius, Nil auditur jocundius, Nil cogitatur dulcius Quam Jesus dei filius. Jesu, spes pcenitentibus, Quam pius es petentibus, Quam bonus es quserentibus, Sed quid invenientibus. Jesus, dulcedo cordium, Fons vivus, lumen mentium, Excedens omne gaudium Et omne desiderium. Nee lingua potest dicere, Nee litera exprimere, Expertus potest credere Quid sit Jesum diligere. 500 THE MEDIMVAL CHURCH. A passion hymn of Bernard deserves mention as be ing the model which suggested the noble composition of Paul Gerhard, as well as for the depth of feeling by which it is itself penetrated. It has this stanza : — Salve, caput cruentatum, Totum spinis coronatum, Conquassatum, vulneratum, Arundine verberatum, Facie sputis illita. Salve, cujus dulcis vultus, Immutatus et incultus, Immutavit suum florem, Totus versus in pallorem, Quern cceli tremit curia. Another Bernard, a monk of Cluny, who lived at the same time as the mighty Abbot of Clairvaux, is known from his Laus Patriae Coelestis, an enraptured descrip tion of heaven. The English version of such lines as the following has been made familiar by frequent use in public worship : — O bona patria, lumina sobria te speculantur, Ad tua nomina sobria lumina collacrimantur: Est tua mentio pectoris unctio, cura doloris, Concipientibus sethera mentibus ignis amoris. Urbs Syon aurea, patria lactea, cive decora, Omne cor obruis, omnibus obstruis et cor et ora. Nescio, nescio, quse jubilatio, lux tibi qualis, Quam socialia gaudia, gloria quam specialis : Laude studens ea tollere, mens mea victa fatiscit: O bona gloria, vincor; in omnia laus tua vicit. MEDIAEVAL HYMNS. 501 In the twelfth century we have also the distinguished name of Adam of St. Victor. Trench assigns him a very high place, is indeed inclined to regard him as the great est of the Latin hymnologists of the middle ages. He was undoubtedly a writer of no inconsiderable genius. This appears in the very subtle art with which he wove into his productions Biblical types and theological dis tinctions, as well as in his graceful management of his verse. But, as might be expected, this subtlety is better suited to please and to stimulate the mind than to melt or to kindle the heart. For purposes of devotion the poetry of Adam of St. Victor cannot well be assigned a foremost place. The following stanzas, selected some what at random, may serve to illustrate the peculiar traits of this author : — Verbi vere substantivi, Caro cum sit in declivi Temporis angustia, In seternis verbum annis Permanere nos Johannis Docet theologia. Dum magistri super pectus Fontem haurit intellectus, Et doctrinse flumina, Fiunt, ipso situ loci, Verbo fides, auris voci, Mens Deo contermina. Unde mentis per excessus, Carnis, sensiis super gressus, Errorumque nubila, Contra veri solis lumen 502 THE MEDIAEVAL CHURCH. Visum cordis et acumen Figit velut aquila.1 Verbum quod non potest dici, Quod virtute creatrici Cuncta fecit valde bona, Iste dicit ab eeterni Patris nexu non secerni Nisi tantum in persons. Potestate, non naturS Fit Creator creatura, Reportetur ut factura Factoris in gloria. Prsedicatus per prophetas, Quern non capit locus, setas, Nostra? sortis intrat metas, Non relinquens propria. Tria dona reges ferunt: Stella duce regem quserunt, Per quam certi semper eruut De superno lumine. Auro regem venerantes, Ture deum designantes, Myrrha mortem memorantes, Sacro docti Flamine. i Another stanza, so much in the spirit of this that one is naturally inclined to assign it to the school of Adam of St. Victor, may fitly be quoted here as an almost ideal characterization of the Apostle who was at once Evangelist and Revelator : — Vol at avis sine meta Quo nee vates nee propheta, Evolavit altius : Tarn implenda, quam impleta, Nunquam vidit tot secreta Purus homo puriua. MEDIAEVAL HYMNS. 503 Ecce dies Celebris ! Lux succedit tenebris, Morti resurrectio. Lsetis cedaut tristia, Cum sit major gloria, Quam prima conf usio. Umbram fugat Veritas, Vetustatem novitas, Luctum consolatio. Pascha novum oolite; Quod praeit in capite, Membra sperent singula ; Pascha novum Chxistus est, Qui pro nobis passus est, Agnus sine macula. Hostis, qui nos circuit, Praedam Christus eruit; Quod Samson prsecinuit, Dum leonem lacerat. David fortis viribus A leonis unguibus, Et ab ursi faucibus, Gregem Patris liberat. As a specimen of scholastic dogma in verse, we give a part of the hymn of Thomas Aquinas, the great theo logian of the thirteenth century, on the body of Christ in the eucharist : — Dogma datur Christianis, Quod in carnem transit panis Et vinum in sangninem. Quod non capis, quod non vides,' Animosa firmat fides, Prseter rerum ordinem. 504 THE MEDIJEVAL CHURCH. Sub diversis speeiebus, Signis tamen et non rebus Latent res eximise: Caro cibus, sanguis potus : Manet tamen Christus totus .Sub utraque specie. A sumente non concisus, Non confractus, non divisus, Integer accipitur. Sumit unus, sumunt mille, Quantum isti, tantum ille, Nee sumptus consumitur. Sumunt boni, sumunt mali, Sorte tamen insequali Vitse vel interitus : Mors est malis, vita bonis, Vide, paris sumptionis Quam sit dispar exitus. Bonaventura was the author of several very worthy passion hymns. Among these the following may per haps be accounted the best. We copy four out of fif teen stanzas : — Recordare sanctse crucis, Qui perfectam viam ducis, Delectare jugiter. Sanctse crucis recordare Et in ipsa meditare Insatiabiliter. Quum quiescis aut laboras, Quando rides, quando ploras, Doles sive gaudeas, Quando vadis, quando venis, In solatiis, in poenis Cruoem corde teneas. MEDIAEVAL HYMNS. 505 Crux in omnibus pressuris Et in gravibus et duris Est totum remedium. Crux in posnis et tor mentis Est dulcedo pise mentis Et verum refugium. Crux est porta Paradisi, In qua sancti sunt confisi, Qui vicerunt omnia. Crux est mundi medicina, Per quam bonitas divina Facit mirabilia. In the century of Thomas Aquinas and Bonaventura lived James de Benedictis (or Jacopone, as he is called) the author of a hymn descriptive of the sorrow of the Virgin, which must be pronounced very tender and beautiful, though it is not wholly free from the taint of Mariolatry. Stabat mater dolorosa Juxta crucem lacrimosa, Dum pendebat filius, Cujus animam gementem Contristantem et dolentem Pertransivit gladius. O quam tristis et afflicta Fuit ilia benedicta Mater unigeniti! Quam mcerebat et dolebat Et tremebat, cum videbat Nati pcenas inclyti I To the thirteenth century also belonged the disciple of St. Francis, Thomas of Celano, the probable author of that crowning specimen of mediaeval hymnology, the 506 THE MEDIAEVAL CHURCH. great judgment hj'mn, the Dies Irce. Respecting the excellences of this hymn, Trench says : " The meter so grandly devised, the solemn effect of the triple rhyme, which has been likened to blow following blow of the hammer on the anvil, the confidence of the poet in the universal interest of his theme, a confidence which has made him set out his matter with so majestic and unadorned a plainness as at once to be intelligible to all, — these merits, with many more, have given the Dies Iroe a foremost place among the masterpieces of sacred song." Dies irse, dies ilia i Solvet sseclum in favillS, Teste David cum Sibylla. Quantus tremor est futurus, Quando Judex est venturus, Cuncta stricte discussurus. Tuba, mirum spargens sonum Per sepulchra regionum, Coget omnes ante thronum. 1 It will be observed that the translation of Mr. Irons, which is subjoined, substitutes for the third line the amended reading, Crucis expandens vexilla : — Day of wrath! 0 day of mourning! See ! once more the cross returning, — Heaven and earth in ashes burning ! 0 what fear man's bosom rendeth, When from heaven the Judge descendeth, On whose sentence all dependeth ! Wondrous sound the trumpet flingeth, Through earth's sepulchres it ringeth, All before the throne il bringeth. MEDIAEVAL HYMNS. 507 Mors stupebit et natura, Quum resurget creatura, Judicanti responsura. Liber scriptus proferetur, In quo totum eontinetur, De quo mundus judicetur. Judex ergo quum sedebit, Qiiidquid latet, apparebit, Nil inultum remanebit. Quid sum miser turn dicturus, Quern patronum rogaturus, Quum vix Justus sit securus ? Rex tremendse majestatis, Qui saivandos salvas gratis, Salva me, f ons pietatis 1 Death is struck and nature quaking, - All creation is awaking, To its Judge an answer making ! Lo the book, exactly worded ! Wherein all hath been recorded : — Hence shall judgment be awarded. When the Judge his seat attaineth, And each hidden deed arraigneth, Nothing unavenged remaineth. What shall I, frail man, be pleading, Who for me be interceding, When the just are mercy needing ? King of majesty tremendous, Who dost free salvation send us, Fount of pity I then befriend us ! 508 THE MEDIJEVAL CHURCH. Recordare, Jesu pie, Quod sum causa tuse viae ; Ne me perdas ilia die ! Quserens me sedisti lassus, Redemisti crucem passus : Tantus labor non sit cassus Juste Judex ultionis, Donum fac remissionis Ante diem rationis ! Ingemisco tanquam reus. Culpa rubet vultus meus : Supplicanti parce, Deus I Qui Mariam absolvisti, Et latronem exaudisti, Mibi quoque spem dedisti. Think, kind Jesu ! my salvation Caused Thy wondrous incarnation: Leave me not to reprobation ! Faint and weary Thou hast sought me, On the cro«s of suffering bought me ; — Shall such grace be vainly brought me ? Righteous Judge of Retribution, Grant Thy gift of absolution Ere that reckoning-day's conclusion ; Guilty, now I pour my moaning, All my shame and anguish owning; Spare, 0 God, Thy suppliant, groaning. Thou the sinful woman savedst, Thou the dying thief forgavest, And to me a hope vouchsafest. MEDIJEVAL HYMNS. 509 Preces mess non sunt dignse, Sed tu bonus fac benigne, Ne perenni cremer igne ! Inter oves locum prsesta, Et ab hsedis me sequestra, Statuens in parte dextra. Confutatis maledictis, Flammis acribus addictis, Voca me cum benedictis. Oro supplex et acclinis, Cor contritum quasi cinis: Gere curam mei finis. Worthless are my prayers and sighing, Yet, good Lord, in grace complying, Rescue me from fires undying ! With Thy favored sheep, 0 place me! Nor among the goats abase me ; But to Thy right hand upraise me. While the wicked are confounded, Doomed to flames of woe unbounded, Call me, with Thy saints surrounded ! Low I kneel, with heart-submission ; See like ashes, my contrition: Help me in my last condition ! In some versions the following is given as the concluding stanza: — Lachrymosa dies ilia, Qua resurget ex fa villa Judicandus homo reus ; Huic ergo parce, Deus ! Pie Jesu Domine Dona eos requie. 510 THE MEDIAEVAL CHURCH. The foregoing specimens present the more favorable side of mediaeval hymnology. They may serve to in dicate that, though Protestantism can show a larger body of hymns in which poetic talent and high religious sentiment have been happily wedded together, it may still consider with profit the contributions of the Pre- Reformation Church. But the less favorable side, the alloy of saint-worship, must in justice to history receive some attention. How considerable an element this is may be readily discerned by consulting F. J. Mone's collection of Latin hymns. Out of three volumes one is devoted to God and the angels, another to the Virgin, and the remaining to the saints. Even if allowance be made for bias in the collector, these proportions are sufficiently indicative as to the direction of mediaeval hymnology. In truth, the hymns of that era give un mistakable testimony to the polytheistic cast of the worship. Whatever distinctions theologians may have indulged between latreia, hyperduleia, and duleia,1 the creature was actually placed in the throne of God, and worship was divided between the Most High and His workmanship. The Virgin in particular was invested with the functions of Deity. She was as truly a god dess in the conception of a majority of the people as was Diana in the view of the Ephesians, who clamor ously shouted her praises in the days of Paul. Men of as high standing as Bonaventura 2 thought it proper to celebrate her in terms which the most ardent devo tion is wont to address to God. Not infrequently 1 In the order given, these terms were used to indicate the worship due to God, to the Virgin, and to the saints respectively. 2 So must one conclude, if it be allowed that Bonaventura was the author of the " Psalter of the Virgin," attributed to him. MEDIAEVAL HYMNS. 511 another sentiment than that of worship has left its impress. There are hymns in which the strain of re ligious adoration is mixed with such expressions as a Troubadour might have employed in singing the praises of his lady love. The following stanzas are taken from a variety 6f hymns belonging to different centuries: — Ave, maris Stella, Dei Mater alma Atque semper Virgo, Felix coeli porta. Solve vinc'la reis, Profer lumen coeds, Mala nostra pelle, Bona cuucta posce. Ave, Virgo gratiosa, Virgo sole clarior, Mater Dei gloriosa, Favo mellis dulcior, Tu es ilia speciosa, Qua nulla est pulchrior, Rubicunda. plusquam rosa, Lilio candidior. Ave mundi spes, Maria, Ave mitis, ave pia, Ave plena gratia, Omnis boni copia. Angelorum imperatrix, Peccatorum consolatrix, 512 THE MEDIAEVAL CHURCH. Consolare me lugentem, In peccatis jam fcetentem. Me habeto excusatum Apud Christum tuum natum, Cujus iram expavesco Et f urorem coutremisco. Nam peccavi tibi soli: O Maria Virgo, noli Esse mihi aliena, Gratia coelesti plena. Esto custos cordis mei, Signa me timore Dei Confer vitse sanitatem Et da morum honestatem. O Maria, sponsa dia, Quam CEelestis hierarchia Jugi laudat symphonia, Audi preces, mater pia, Tibi supplicantium. O regina angelorum Atque mundi domina, Imperatrix infernorum Hera sublimissima, Vera mater orphanorum, Piarum piissima, Vera salus infirmorum, Sana mea vitia. Me molestum et lugentem, Pia mater, respice, MEDIAEVAL ARCHITECTURE. 513 Sana in te confidentem, Mater indulgentise, Peccatorem pcenitentem Ne damnes pro crimine, In te figo meam mentem, Noli me relinquere. Ave virgo virginum, Ave lumen luminum, Ave stella prsevial Mediatrix hominum Ablutrixque criminum, Ave Virgo regia! Castitatis lilium, Consolatrix omnium, Peccatorum venia. II. — ARCHITECTURE. The Romanesque style,1 which dominated the archi tecture of the West in the early part of the mediaeval period, received some contributions from the Byzan tine. In its general character, however, it was a fur ther development of the Christian basilica. It appears as the type which the classic era had handed down, worked over and modified by the genius of the Ger manic nations. Many varieties as respects details appeared in the architecture of different countries, or even of the same 1 For our use of terms, see the corresponding section in "The Early Church." 33 514 THE MEDIEVAL CHURCH. country, within the period assigned to the Romanesque. This makes it somewhat difficult to determine just what should be included in a full list of the cardinal features of this style. Several characteristics, however, are clearly marked. In the use of pillars there was much greater freedom from the classic rule as to proportions than appears in the early basilicas. New phases of ornamentation were brought in by the genius of the Lombard sculptors. The use of the round arch to a profuse degree was a specially prominent feature of the Romanesque. " Its chief characteristic," says Milman, " is delight in the multiplication of the arch, not only for the support, but for the ornamentation, of the build ing. Within and without there is the same prodigality of this form." x The portals, under the influence of the strong preference for the arcuated form, often became receding arches, arches within arches. The same pref erence introduced vaulted ceilings over the aisles and the nave. In the later Romanesque such ceilings were very common. Another feature was the enlarged area, as compared with the plan of the primitive basilica, which was given to the eastern end of the church, or the part beyond the meeting point of nave and transept. This secured more room to the clergy, and enabled them to retreat farther from the congregation, — an architectural development accordant with the hierarch ical tendencies of the age. A feature which may, per haps, be regarded as still more characteristic, was the tower, at first an adjacent structure, but afterwards in corporated with the main building. Many churches had more than one tower. In some instances there were 1 Latin Christianity, book xiv. chap. viii. MEDIMVAL ARCHITECTURE. 515 towers on the transepts and the choir, as well as on both sides of the front. The intersection of the cross was surmounted in some cases by a dome, in others by cupolas or towers of varied patterns, the large square form having the preference in certain countries. The Norman, which flourished in Northern France and in England after the Conquest, is classed as a special branch of the Romanesque. It was charac terized in general by a plain and bold style of orna mentation, strong pillars, a square central tower of large dimensions rising to a moderate height, and a general impression of solidity. The apse was often omitted in favor of a rectangular outline. Churches in this style in England were commonly distinguished by great length as compared with breadth and height. Of the Romanesque in general, it may be said that it conveys an impression of strength and firmness, has a settled, restful aspect. Herein the style of the edifice was not out of accord with its office. In that age of transition and turbulence, the church was not merely a place of worship ; it was also a refuge, a stronghold of civilization and religion.1 One of the most noteworthy specimens of the Ro manesque in France was the abbey church of Cluny, built between 1089 and 1130, and preserved till the time of the Revolution. The body of the church, which had five aisles, was 365 feet long. An extensive fore-hall, with three aisles, carried the total length up to 500 feet. The breadth was 110 feet ; the height of the nave, 100 feet. The tendency to multiply the apse, which appears in not a few specimens of the Roman- 1 Compare F. Kugler, Geschichte der Baukunst. 516 THE MEDIEVAL CHURCH. esque, was here carried to a maximum ; no less than fifteen apses adorned the choir and the arms of the cross. Seven towers entered into the ornamentation of the exterior. In Germany, among noted examples of this style were the Apostles' church and St. Mar tin's in Cologne, and the cathedrals of Spires, Worms, and Bonn. Among the Romanesque or Norman churches of England, those at St. Albans, Ely, Peter borough, Winchester, Norwich, and Durham held a celebrated place. The Gothic as a distinct style appeared in Northern France about the middle of the twelfth century, quickly crossed into England, then came to Germany, and near the same time began to be introduced into Spain and Italy. By the middle of the fourteenth century it had reached its highest bloom. In Italy, where it was never very fully naturalized, a decided reaction against it arose before the middle of the fifteenth century. In most other European countries it continued to be cul tivated, to a considerable extent, well into the sixteenth century. The crowning era of the Gothic style may be re garded, both in the extent and character of its pro ductions, as one of the most brilliant epochs, perhaps the most brilliant, in the whole history of architecture. " Not even the great Pharaonic age in Egypt, the age of Pericles in Greece, nor the great period of the Roman Empire, will bear comparison with the thirteenth cen tury in Europe, whether we look to the extent of the buildings executed, their wonderful variety and con structive elegance, the daring imagination that con- MEDIAEVAL ARCHITECTURE. 517 ceived them, or the power of poetry and lofty religious feelings that is expressed in every feature and every part of them." a Though having its starting point in the later Ro manesque, especially in those specimens of it which contained vaulted ceilings, the Gothic was still a truly distinct style. Its general tone appears in strong con trast with that of its predecessor. The Romanesque building stood firmly upon the earth, had an aspect of strength, solidity, and rest. The Gothic seemed to- mount upward. The one invited to a refuge, an earthly! stronghold. The other summoned men to forget the earth in the eager flight of thought and aspiration to ward heaven. Its effort, as described by Liibke, was ; to overcome the horizontal, to spiritualize the material, to construct an edifice which should seem to spring miraculously toward the sky. In realizing this character the pointed arch performed a conspicuous service. This was not altogether a new invention. It was not unknown to some of the ancient nations, and had been used to a considerable extent in Saracenic architecture. But in the Gothic it received a new significance. Here it was no longer a mere ornament, an adjunct, or a means of variety; it was rather a most suitable means of carrying out the essen tial idea of the building. The importance of the pointed arch should not cause the fact to be overlooked, that it was only one in a group of features which entered into the Gothic style. The reduction of the points of support to the smallest practicable area, the substitution in large measure of 1 Fergusson, part ii. book ii. chap. ix. 518 THE MEDIAEVAL CHURCH. glass windows for solid walls, the continuing of shafts in the mouldings of arches, the prolongation of vertical lines in towers and in buttresses, which frequently rose above the line of parapets and ended in pinnacles, — all these, as well as the pointed arch, were elements of the Gothic ideal. A very important factor in the production of the interior effect were the windows, with their infinitely varied patterns and their rich colors, by which the un distinguished glare of the day outside was turned into a scene of variegated beauty, and made to cast a mellow radiance through the lofty aisles. In fine, it would be difficult to imagine anything so serviceable in beautify ing the interior as the windows of colored glass which were common from the beginning of the Gothic era. " The painted slabs of the Assyrian palaces," says Fer- gusson, " are comparatively poor attempts at the same effect. The hieroglyphics of the Egyptians were far less splendid and complete ; nor can the painted tem ples of the Greeks, nor the mosaics and frescos of the Italian churches, be compared with the brilliant effect and party-colored glories of a perfect Gothic cathedral, where the whole history of the Bible was written in the hues of the rainbow by the earnest hand of faith."1 Among the more astonishing features of the great Gothic cathedrals is the amount of sculpture embodied in them, by which the exterior was made to appear scarcely less ornamented than the interior. In some instances sacred history and religious conception were wellnigh exhausted for subjects ; and besides, a liberal 1 Part ii. book ii. chap. viii. MEDIAEVAL ARCHITECTURE. 519 draft was made upon the field of natural and secular history. "Thus the great cathedrals of Chartres and Rheims even now retain some five thousand figures, scat tered about or grouped together in various parts, begin ning with the history of the creation of the world and all the wondrous incidents of the first chapter of Genesis, and thence continuing the history through the whole of the Old Testament. In these sculptures the story of redemption is told, as set forth in the New Testament, with a distinctness, and at the same time with an ear nestness, almost impossible to surpass. On the other hand, ranges of statues of kings of France and other popular potentates carry on the thread of profane his tory to the period of the erection of the cathedral itself. In addition to these, we have, interspersed with them, a whole system of moral philosophy, as illustrated by the virtues and the vices, each represented by an appro priate symbol, and the reward or punishment its invari able accompaniment. In other parts are shown all the arts of peace, every process of husbandry in its appro priate season, and each manufacture or handicraft in all its principal forms. Over all these are seen the heavenly hosts, with saints, angels, and archangels. In the mid dle ages, when books were rare, and those who could read them rarer still, this sculpture was certainly most valuable as a means of popular education." J Among the earlier specimens of the French Gothic that of Amiens, along with the two mentioned in the preceding paragraph, ranks as the most noble. Among the later specimens the abbey church of St. Ouen, at Rouen, bears the palm for beauty. An English histo- 1 Fergusson, part ii. book ii. chap. ix. 520 THE MEDIEVAL CHURCH. rian has not hesitated to say that it " may claim the first place among all the edifices that human skill has ever reared."1 The glory of the German Gothic is the cathe dral of Cologne, erected at the end of the thirteenth and the beginning of the fourteenth century. In poetic ef fect it hardly equals some other churches, but in gran deur of conception and nicety of execution it has few rivals. It has been pronounced the most perfect piece of masonry which was produced in the middle ages. After the Cologne cathedral a place of high interest be longs to the cathedral of Strasburg, the church at Frei burg, and St. Stephen's of Vienna. Among the Gothic churches of England, Westminster Abbey, as it is the richest in historical association, may also be pronounced the noblest in general architectural effect. But there are others which are not far from the place of rivals. Some of the old Norman churches, which were recon structed to a greater or less extent in the Gothic era, present very noble specimens of this style. The York Minster and the cathedrals of Ely and Winchester are distinguished examples. Italian Gothic is represented in particular by the cathedrals of Siena and Milan. The latter, though not a model as respects distinctive Gothic features, and perhaps also failing somewhat in religious impression, is a structure of marvellous rich ness and beauty. In Spain the most celebrated monu ments of this style were erected at Toledo, Burgos, and Seville. In respect of size, the cathedral of Seville ranks first among all the mediaeval churches (St. Peter's being ex cluded from this category), while that of Milan holds 1 E. A. Freeman, History of Architecture. MEDIAEVAL ARCHITECTURE. 521 the second place. The one covers the immense area of 124,000 square feet, the other 108,277 square feet.1 The Gothic style found support in the imaginative and idealizing tendencies of the middle ages. It was not equally well adapted to satisfy a utilitarian age, since it was not distinguished by subordination to defi nite practical ends. With the decline, therefore, of the mediaeval spirit, one aid to its dominion was withdrawn, or at least greatly diminished. At the same time the enthusiasm for classic learning naturally begot a prefer ence for the classic models in architecture. The result was that the Renaissance style, first in Italy and then in other countries, began to encroach upon the Gothic. Without being limited to a very definite pattern, the new stj'le borrowed various details from the classic Roman. In some of its more noted embodiments the elongated dome was a very conspicuous feature. This was especially the case with the cathedral at Florence, and with St. Peter's at Rome, the enormous dimensions of whose domes suggest that the task of raising the pantheon high in air has veritably been accomplished. St. Peter's, if not the purest, may be pronounced the grandest example of the Renaissance. Several architects with differing ideas successively directed the long pro cess of its construction. This was not favorable to unity of design. Some of the decorations also are far from being in the best taste. But the magnificent propor tions of the building (covering an area of about five acres), the mighty dome by which it is crowned, and the wealth of materials which it embraces, make it one of the most imposing of religious temples in the world. 1 Figures by Fergusson. 522 THE MEDIAEVAL CHURCH. III. — PAINTING. The staid Byzantine and the rude native style — which latter flourished most conspicuously among the Lombards — helped by their modifying influence upon each other to initiate a style more satisfactory than either. This reached its flower in Italy in the thirteenth century. The development, as Kugler remarks, is not fully open to inspection. " We only perceive that earlier or later, according to the local conditions of each dis trict, the Byzantine style and the old native Lombard become amalgamated into a new whole, — first one and then another constitutent feature predominating, but always impelled forward by the same tendency." Tuscany, with its enterprising cities, like Siena and Florence, was the most prominent theatre of this ad vance in art. Cimabue and Duccio were the brilliant lights of the new school in the last half of the thirteenth century. The fame of the former is perpetuated by wall paintings in the church of St. Francis in Assisi, — a fitting place for his genuis to record itself, for the religious enthusiasm which emanated from Francis was one of the sources of the new inspiration in painting. A specially renowned work of Duccio is the large picture which he contributed to the altar of the cathedral in Siena. In the fourteenth ceutury two distinguishing tenden cies made themselves manifest among the Tuscan paint ers, the one having its centre at Florence and the other at Siena. The Florentine painters were characterized MEDIAEVAL PAINTING. 523 by energy of representation, by power of grouping, and by a realistic bent. The Sienese exhibited less intensity, were less realistic, delighted in calm and deep feeling, and sought to impress by the sweetness and sanctity of individual faces, rather than by dramatic combinations. The former took pleasure in portraying the manifold diversities which appear in earthly and spiritual rela tions. The latter were content with a narrower range, and sought to do justice to such subjects as had been more commonly included in the cycle of Christian art. At the head of the Florentine school in the fourteenth century stood Giotto (1276-1336). An interesting ac count of his induction into an artistic career has been given us by Ghiberti. " The art of painting," he says, " took, its rise in a village of Etruria, nigh to Florence, by name Vespignano. A child was born there of ad mirable genius. Cimabue, the painter, passing by on his road to Bologna, beheld him sitting on the ground, and drawing a sheep from nature on a smooth stone. Marvelling to see a child so young design so well, and perceiving that he had the art from nature, he inquired his name. The child answered and said, ' I am called Giotto, and my father's name is Bondone, and he lives in this cottage hard by.' Cimabue went in with Giotto to his father; Cimabue's presence was most noble; he begged the boy of the father, and the father was wretchedly poor ; he gave up the child to Cimabue ; Cimabue took him away with him, and Giotto was his disciple."1 So apt was the .scholar that at the age of twenty he 1 Quoted by Lord Lindsay, Sketches of the History of Christian Art, vol. ii. 524 THE MEDIAEVAL CHURCH. was past the instruction of his patron ; and his influence was on a plane with his proficiency. He stood in friendly relations with distinguished contemporaries, being praised by such masters of verse as Dante and Petrarch. Popes and princes were glad to employ his talents, and leading monasteries counted it good fortune to possess a work from his hand. Giotto enriched the domain of painting with a multi tude of new creations, and raised the art to a new stage as regards the vivid and careful delineation of character. He was not altogether successful in dealing with the stronger passions. Still his works gave new emphasis to the idea that art should furnish an image of reality. " From the point of view of his age, Giotto's advance toward nature, considered relatively to his predecessors, was in truth enormous." J Among the pupils of Giotto a prominent place was held by Taddeo Gaddi. The greatest successor, how ever, in the Florentine school was Andrea, or Orcagna, as he is commonly called. Like Giotto, he was not merely a painter, but also an architect and sculptor. Three great pictures of his representing the Last Judg ment, Hell, and Paradise, are found on the walls of the Capella Strozzi in the Santa Maria Novella at Florence. Liibke remarks of the last : " The arrangement is still generally stiff, and without picturesque grouping ; but the grand beauty of the heads, the rich, free character ization of the figures, and the inexhaustible abundance of the noblest forms of drapery, are truly enchanting. No picture throughout the whole Gothic epoch com bines so much rich beauty." Two renowned pictures in 1 Woltmann and Woermann. MEDIJEVAL PAINTING. 525 the Campo Santa at Pisa, the Last Judgment and the Triumph of Death, have been attributed to Orcagna.1 The former has been favorably compared with the great work on the same subject by Michael Angelo, who was content to borrow from it some suggestions. A principal representative of the Sienese school was Simone di Martino, a contemporary of Giotto. In har mony with the description which has been given of this school, we find his works expressing tenderness of emotion, calm devotion, and peaceful aspiration, rather than dramatic energy. With Simone are to be asso ciated Lippo Memmi, Pietro di Lorenzo, and Ambrogio di Lorenzo. The spirit of the Sienese school found in the fifteenth century a distinguished exponent in the Dominican monk, Fra Giovanni Angelico. The sphere of his representations was limited, but within that sphere he has scarcely been excelled. " The inspired fervor of the Christian mind," says Liibke, " the angelic purity and beauty of the soul, have never been so gloriously portrayed in plastic art as they are in his works. The tender breath of an almost supernaturally ideal life plays around his creations, and smiles from the rosy features of the youthful heads, or is wafted to us like heavenly peace from the dignified figures of his aged men. The expression of humility, of a cheerful resting in God, the calm sabbatic rest of those who are devoted in true love to the Most High, forms the range of his 1 Most of our authorities make this assignment, but Woltmann and Woermann argue that the style of these pictures differs too widely from that of the authenticated works of Orcagna to justify their being referred to his hand. 526 THE MEDIJEVAL CHURCH. representations. The varied emotion, the changeful course of life, the energy of action and passion, are absent from his works." Before proceeding with the succession of Italian painters, it is incumbent upon us to turn a glance toward those of Germany and the Netherlands, since Italian art in the fifteenth century was not without obligations to the northern region. Contemporary with the rise of Gothic architecture and the growth of chivaliy, German painting gave some evidences of the freer impulses at work in society. Notable achievements, however, were not made till the fourteenth century. In the latter part of that century three schools attained a measure of celebrity ; namely, that of Prague under the patronage of the Emperor, Charles IV., that of Nuremberg, and, most important of all, that of Cologne. Each of these exhibited some what of the traits of the Sienese school in Italian art. They were skilled in the representation of the passive virtues. They gave to the countenances of their sub jects a peculiar cast of purity, meekness, and spiritual ity. This was their talent. The genius which is able to impart motion to form, to set forth the energy of passion, or even to portray manly strength in compara tive rest, they did not possess. The school of Cologne, whose most eminent masters were Wilhelm and Stephan, flourished during the last two decades of the fourteenth century and the first three of the fifteenth. At this time there arose in the Netherlands a school of special historical significance. Its founders were the brothers Hubert and John van MEDIJEVAL PAINTING. 527 Eyek. The distinguishing traits of the school as stamped upon it by the two brothers were a decided bent to realism, a predilection for exact truthfulness, and cer tain points of special proficiency in execution. Under the last designation belong an improved dealing with perspective, which prepared for an advance in landscape painting, and some discovery respecting the use of oils that was of great service to art.1 The most renowned work of the founders was the Adoration of the Lamb, an altar-piece in twelve panels in the cathedral of Ghent. This was begun by Hubert, and completed by John a few years after the death of his brother, in 1426. Among the numerous successors of the Van Eycks, an eminent place was held by Memling, who combined with the realism of the Flemish school much of the tenderness and feeling for quiet beauty which charac terized the school of Cologne. A later representative of considerable note was Quintin Matsys. The painters of the Netherlands showed little capacity 1 There appears to have been some question as respects the exact nature of this discovery. As a recent verdict well entitled to considera tion we quote the following : " The real improvement they introduced was not in the mixing, but in the application of colors. In tempera paint ing, as it was then practised, the colors were ground and prepared sepa rately, and then applied side by side with the colors already laid on and dried, or as a fresh layer over the dry color. The Van Eycks introduced the new method of painting over and into wet color ; and to this end they took advantage of the slow-drying properties of oil color, which, on the old system, had been an insuperable objection. They mixed the colors with the medium on the palette, and worked them together on the picture itself, thus obtaining more brilliant effects of light, as well as more delicate gradations of tone, with an infinitely nearer approach to the truth of nature" (Woltmann and Woermann.) 528 THE MEDIAEVAL CHURCH. to rise above the plane which the Van Eycks had occu pied. An advance to a higher stage was first realized, so far as respects the Germanic peoples, in the early part of the sixteenth century, when the annals of early Protestantism were adorned by the names of two such consummate artists as Albert Diirer and the younger Holbein, not to mention that very prolific painter, Lucas Cranach. With the bent to realism characteristic of the Netherlands school Diirer and Holbein united larger original power, greater energy of conception and facility of grasp. Diirer was distinguished in engraving no less than in painting. Among the trophies of his genius in the former line the most celebrated pieces are the Mel ancholy, and Death and the Knight. The great era of Italian art, beginning shortly before the middle of the fifteenth and reaching into the six teenth century, was the unrivalled age of Christian painting. A still broader statement is allowable. While the age of Pericles continues to bear the palm as respects sculpture, no other era in all history can boast of such achievements in painting as can the era of the Italian Renaissance. All the conditions of a flowering age were then at hand : the imaginative literature of the great Italian poets, rich and awe- inspiring religious temples bequeathed by one of the greatest epochs in the annals of architecture, the ideals which the mystic piety of the middle ages had wrought out, supplemented by the skill and grace which were naturally born of an enthusiastic study of classic re mains. To be impressed with the exceptional wealth of the era, one has only to look over the names of its MEDIEVAL PAINTING. 529 distinguished artists, each of which calls up forms of almost ideal beauty, such names as Masaccio, Fillippo Lippi, Domenico Ghirlandajo, Luca Signorelli, Andrea Mantegna, Pietro Perugino, Giovanni Bellini, Francesco Francia, Leonardo da Vinci, Bernardino Luini, Fra Bartolommeo, Andrea del Sarto, Michael Angelo Buo narroti, Raphael Sanzio, Antonio Allegri da Correggio, Giorgione, and Tiziano Vecellio. To three of these, Leonardo da Vinci, Michael An gelo, and Raphael, common consent assigns a pre-emi nent place. Correggio and Tiziano (Titian) are also ranked as stars of the first magnitude, — the former an adept in the use of light and shade, the latter, like Beilini and Giorgione, exhibiting the characteristic skill of the Venetian school in the use of colors, a portrait painter of almost unrivalled fame, gifted in the represen tation of earthly magnificence, but leaving also among the products of his long career some noble works on re ligious subjects. Leonardo da Vinci (1452-1519) was a man of com prehensive ability. In person and in mind he was one of the most gifted of the sons of men. He was comely, strong, and skilled in bodily exercises. He was at once painter, sculptor, civil engineer, architect, musician, and poet. With high genius he joined great industry and painstaking. Whatever respect he had for antique Inodels, he thought it necessary to have continual re- course to the direct lessons of nature, saying that " such teachings at second hand make the artist not the child, but the grandchild of nature." He spent much time in the study of anatomy, took note of expression on all occasions, followed criminals to execution to catch the 34 530 THE MEDIJEVAL CHURCH. lineaments of horror and despair, and entered into amusing conversation with peasants the better to ac quaint himself with the image of artless mirth. His high rank as a painter is due to his combination of deep sentiment with scientific accuracy. Says Kugler : " With scientific study and accuracy he joined a sound subjective feeling, a refined enthusiastic sentimentality which in some sort may be compared with the charac teristics of the Umbrian school. In some of his works the one or the other of these tendencies predominates ; in the principal ones, on the other hand, both seem to balance each other in purest harmony. . . . He who investigated common life, even to its minutest modifica tions and details, could also represent the holy and the divine with a dignity, calmness, and beauty of which the greatest genius alone is capable." Milan and Florence were the chief seats of Leonardo's activity. It was in the former, on the walls of the refectory of the convent of Santa Maria della Grazie, that he executed his world-renowned painting, the Last Supper. This is known to us mainly by early copies and engravings, as the original was shamefully defaced long since. The arrangement of the disciples and their Master at the table was borrowed rather from the cus tom of the refectory than from the original scene. But this departure from the externals of history had its ade quate compensation in the better scope provided for reproducing its spirit. It ministered to a more effectual exhibition of feeling by attitude and gesture, and was subservient to a special dramatic effect in that it ena bled the artist to dispose the disciples in several groups. The whole is well described as a remarkable fusion of MEDIAEVAL PAINTING. 531 the real and the ideal. The scene is laid at the an nouncement of the betrayal, and an echo of the words, " One of you shall betray me," appears in the sorrow ful mien of the Master, as also in the agitated faces of the disciples. . Michael Angelo (1474-1563) reveals quite as re markable a range of abilities as Leonardo. He was almost equally great in architecture, sculpture, and painting, and was besides a musician, a poet, and a consummate anatomist. While he devoted no incon siderable portion of his long life to painting, his own preference was for sculpture. Very distinct traces of this predilection appear even in his paintings. The}r reveal the instincts of the sculptor in being confined almost entirely to the one subject which is of supreme interest in sculpture. " He no more thought of repre senting space and distance than of the elaboration of a detailed foreground ; his treatment of color is broadly massive and he disdained all the artifice of atmospheric effects. His pictures represent the human form under every variety of impulse, but nothing else." 1 A powerful subjectivity is reflected in the works of Michael Angelo. He took scarcely any account of tra ditional types. He wrought out his own conceptions, and stamped them with the impress of his own lofty and independent spirit. One feels, as he looks over the crowded assembly of his creations, that he has given only one side of reality. Strength, grandeur, energy, and intensest will are there. Of meekness and gentle ness, of contriteness and humility, of wrapt devotion and serene blessedness, there is little glimpse. * Woltmann and Woermann. 532 THE MEDIJEVAL CHURCH. Michael Angelo's masterpiece in painting is on the ceiling of the Sistine Chapel in Rome. Liibke speaks of this as " the mightiest monument of painting through- , out all ages." It contains probably the most successful venture which human audacity has ever essayed in the representation of Deity, — the picture of the Almighty flying forth on the wings of the wind in the work of creation. A peculiar majesty attaches to the forms of prophets and sibyls, and in the list of Biblical scenes reaching onward from the creation there are many ap proaches to the lofty height of the sacred theme. A second renowned work of Michael Angelo, exe cuted in his later years, has been preserved on the wall of the same chapel. It is an extensive work, contain ing more than a hundred figures, in whose expressions and attitudes one sees at a glance that the sentence of doom, the great fiat of the Judgment Day, has gone forth from the enthroned Christ. The picture shows the power of the master, but also his limitation. There is no adequate glimpse of the transfigured life of heaven, to stand in contrast with the fevered agony of the lost. In general, the physical is over promi nent. The athletic element, so to speak, trenches on the spiritual. Of the two great paintings, the one on the ceiling is the nobler memorial of a sublime artistic genius. Raphael (1483-1520) received his first lessons in art in the Umbrian school. This school resembled the Sienese of the preceding era, being characterized by serenity and mystical tenderness rather than by dramatic energy. Such qualities were displayed in eminent degree by Pietro Perugino, the early teacher of Raphael, and the MEDIAEVAL PAINTING. 533 first works of Raphael bear the same general stamp. Later, he enriched and ennobled his style by com munion with the Florentine masters. A supreme sense for beauty joined with wonderful skill and delicacy of execution may be described as the distinguishing features of Raphael's genius. " The magic power in Raphael," says Kugler, " is the spirit of beauty, which filled his whole being and shines through all his creations. A beautiful and harmonious develop ment of form is his first aim, but not in the restrictive sense in which it was studied by the masters of the fifteenth century. In Raphael beauty of form is the expression of elevation of mind, and of the utmost purity of soul. In Leonardo da Vinci, the chief aim appears to have been a characteristic and thorough ex pression of the theme he had to treat ; in Michael An gelo we remark a peculiar, grand, subjective mode of conception ; in both, beauty of form is to be considered a secondary element : it is the reverse in Raphael." Though dying at the early age of thirty-seven, Ra phael left in vast number the trophies of his genius. No other artist ever produced so much and of such uniform excellence in so short a time. Among his more distinguished works are the four large wall paint ings in the Camera della Segnatura of the Vatican, en titled Theology, Poetry, Philosophy, and Ethics; the frescos in the Chamber of Heliodorus, including the Expulsion of Heliodorus from the Temple, the Mass of Bolsena, the March of Attila, and the Deliverance of St. Peter; the ample list of Biblical scenes em ployed in the ornamentation of the Loggia, and called Raphael's Bible ; the Cartoons, in which the great 534 THE MEDIjEVAL CHURCH. scenes of the apostolic history are reproduced; the Transfiguration; and the Madonnas. Upon each of these there has been no dearth of admiring comment. To some of them art has not yet been able to present a worthy rival. Respecting the creations in the Camera della Segnatura, Muntz says : " The profundity of the ideas, the nobility of the style, and the youthful vitality which prevails in every detail of the decoration, make up a monumental achievement which is without parallel in the annals of painting." J Of the Madonnas, the Sistine, executed near the close of Raphael's life, is the most remarkable creation. No better description of this can be devised than that which has been given in the words of Kugler : " Here the Madonna appears as the queen of the heavenly host in a brilliant glory of countless angel heads, standing on the clouds with the Eternal Son in her arms ; St. Sixtus and St. Barbara kneel at the sides. Both of them seem to connect the picture with the real spectators. A curtain-drawn back encloses the picture on each side. Underneath is a light parapet on which two beautiful boy angels lean. The Madonna is one of the most wonderful creations of Raphael's pencil ; she is at once the exalted and blessed woman of whom the Savior was born, and the tender earthly virgin whose pure and humble nature was esteemed worthy of so great a des tiny. There is something scarcely describable in her countenance ; it expresses a timid astonishment at the miracle of her elevation, and at the same time the free dom and dignity resulting from the consciousness of 1 Life, Works, and Times of Raphael, translated from the French. MEDIJEVAL painting. 535 her divine situation. The child rests naturally, but not listlessly, in her arms, and looks down upon the world with a serious expression. Never has the loveliness of childhood been blended so touchingly with a deep-felt solemn consciousness of the holiest calling as in the features and countenance of this child. The eye is with difficulty disenchanted from the deep impressions produced by these two figures, so as to rest on the grandeur and dignity of the Pope, the lowly devotion of St. Barbara, and the cheerful innocence of the angel children." The great genius of Raphael is matter for no dispute or division of opinion. But some have been disposed to question his service to art in its specifically Christian sense. They have alleged that he yielded to the spirit of the pagan renaissance, that he went outside of Chris tian subjects to glorify the characters of the classic world, that he helped on the tendency of his age to sacrifice spirituality to the exact portrayal of earthly forms. Thus John Ruskin says : " Raphael in his twenty-fifth year was sent for to Rome, to decorate the Vatican for Pope Julius II., and having until that time worked exclusively in the ancient and stern medi aeval manner, he, in the first chamber which he deco rated in that palace, wrote upon its wall the Mene, Tekel, Upharsin, of the arts of Christianity. And he wrote it thus. On one wall of that chamber he placed a picture of the World or Kingdom of Theology, pre sided over by Christ. And on the side wall of that same chamber he placed the World or Kingdom of Poetry, presided over by Apollo. And from that spot, and from that hour, the intellect and the art of Italy 536 THE MEDIEVAL CHURCH. date their degradation. Observe, however, that the significance of this fact is not in the mere use of the figure of the heathen god to indicate the domain of poetry. Such a symbolical use had been made of the figures of heathen deities in the best times of Christian art. But it is the fact that, being called to Rome especially to adorn the palace of the so called head of the Church, and called as the chief representative of the Christian artists of his time, Raphael had neither religion nor originality enough to trace the spirit of poetry and the spirit of philosophy to the inspiration of the true God, as well as that of theology ; but that, on the contrary, he elevated the creations of fancy on the one wall to the same rank as the objects of faith upon the other; that in deliberate, balanced opposition to the Rock of Mount Zion, he reared the rock of Parnassus and the rock of the Acropolis ; that among the masters of poetry we find him enthroning Petrarch and Pindar, but not Isaiah and David, and for lords over the do main of philosophy we find the masters of the school of Athens, but neither of those greater masters by the last of whom that school was rebuked, — those who received their wisdom from heaven itself in the vision of Gibeon (1 Kings iii. 5), and in the lightning of Damascus. The doom of the arts of Europe went forth from that chamber, and it was brought about in great part by the very excellences of the man who had thus marked the commencement of decline. The per fection of execution and the beauty of feature which were attained in his works, and those of his great con^ temporaries, rendered finish of execution and beauty of form the chief objects of all artists, and thenceforward MEDIEVAL PAINTING. 537 execution was looked for rather than thought, and beauty rather than veracity." x This fervid specimen of Pre-Raphaelite criticism, what ever element of truth it may contain, assigns to Raphael by far too large a responsibility in the decline of art. Where genius is a principal factor in working out re sults, steady advance is never maintained. The age of flower and fruit is likely to be followed by the age of comparative decline. It has been so in the history of poetry. Analogy would lead us to expect that it would not be otherwise in the history of art. Had Raphael, within the limits of his genius, wrought other wise than he did, the era of decadence probably would not have been much retarded. It was beyond his power to control the issue. Very likely he did not reach the ideal as respects the union of beauty with spiritual depth. But his contribution toward the ideal is of permanent and inestimable worth to the race. Art at the acme of its future triumph may give greater and more successful heed to spiritual depth than did Raphael; it will not make less account of beauty of form. 1 Lectures on Architecture and Painting. APPENDIX. APPENDIX. I. THE SEVEN SACRAMENTS. 1st the early centuries, while the term " sacrament " was pre-eminently associated with baptism and the eucharist, it was given a wide application, being made to include any thing to which a special sanctity pertained. Thus, Ter- tullian spoke of the work of Christ as " the sacrament of human salvation," and styled the death of Christ "the sacrament of His passion." Hilary, Leo the Great, and Gregory the Great likewise spoke of " the sacrament of the Lord's passion." Augustine referred to the Sabbath and circumcision, among other things, as sacraments. The pseudo Dionysius, the author of mystical writings in the fifth century, prepared a ground for a somewhat more definite usage, since he specified six Christian mysteries ; namely, baptism, eucharist, anointing, priestly consecration, dedication to monastic life, and the ceremonial for the dead, — an anointing of the body of the deceased. This Dionysius, as being accounted in the Middle Ages the veri table Areopagite converted by Paul, was much of an author ity. Still, his list of mysteries, or sacraments, seems not to have regulated very largely the usage of the scholastics. Great indefiniteness continued to characterize the subject, 542 APPENDIX. until at length in the twelfth century Peter Lombard set forth the following list of seven sacraments : " baptism, confirmation, eucharist, penance, extreme unctiou, holy or ders, marriage." This list was accepted by Thomas Aqui nas and Bonaventura, and was officially sanctioned by Pope Eugenius IV., near the middle of the fifteenth century. The scholastic conception of baptism was essentially the same as prevailed in the Church in the time of Augustine. It was understood to effect absolution from guilt and ame lioration of inherited corruption, and was regarded as neces sary to salvation. However, in virtue of the proper desire, faith, and purpose, one debarred from baptism might be saved. As infants cannot offer these compensations, their death without baptism was regarded by the mediaeval theo logians as dooming them to hell, though not to the sharp torments visited upon most of the lost. Dante was not unfaithful to the common thought when he thus described the Umbus puerorum .¦ — " A place there is below not sad with torments, But darkness only, where the lamentations Have not the sound of waiUng, but are sighs." The formula for confirmation was as follows: "I sign thee with the sign of the cross, and confirm thee with the chrism of salvation, in the name of the Father, the Son, and the Holy Spirit, Amen." This sacrament was understood to supplement baptism, affording strength in the standing to which the candidate had been introduced by the initial rite. The sacrificial notion was dominant in the mediaeval thought of the eucharist. The table of communion was displaced by an altar of sacrifice, upon which the actual body of Christ was supposed to serve as a propitiatory offer ing for the living and the dead. At the height of the scho lastic era some refinements were made on the doctrine of APPENDIX. 543 the real presence, though always at the expense of the reality in the case. Thus the idea which Radbertus seems to have entertained in the ninth century respecting a sun dering of the body of Christ into parts, was displaced by the theory (adopted by the Council of Trent) that the body is entire under any separate portion of the species of bread. The first ecumenical sanction of transubstantiation appeared in the language of the fourth Lateran Council in 1215. According to the completed scholastic doctrine, the valid execution of the sacrament of penance requires, on the side of the penitent, contrition, confession, and sincere engage ment to do the prescribed works of satisfaction ; on the part of the priest, a formal sentence of absolution. (See pp. 254-256.) Extreme unction, designed for bodily alleviation and for the cancelling of venial sins, was ministered by the use of vocal prayer, and by anointing the body of the sick on the eyes, the ears, the nostrils, the lips, the hands, the feet, and the loins. Like the other sacraments incapable of repetition, namely, baptism and confirmation, the sacrament of order was sup posed to impress an indelible character upon the recipient. Ecclesiastical dignities above the priestly were not counted as representing distinct orders. Accordingly, the list of seven orders, as given by Peter Lombard, runs as follows : "door-keepers, readers, exorcists, acolytes, subdeacons, dea cons, priests. The sacramental character of marriage was generally acknowledged, though as late and prominent a writer as Durandus took the ground that marriage can be called a sacrament only in a general way (largo modo). No cause, not even that of adultery, was regarded as adequate to annul the bond of marriage, so long a? both parties should continue to live. 544 APPENDIX. II. GENUINENESS OF THE FAMOUS BULL OF ADRIAN IV. The fact that this bull, which assumes to transfer Ireland to English rule, is not found in the Vatican library cannot count for much, since that library, according to Theiner, contains no document relative to any dealing with Ireland which antedates 1215.1 As the originals of other documents touching on Irish affairs have been lost from the Vatican, so this from Adrian may have been lost also. The condi tions therefore leave full force to any positive evidence for the genuineness of the over-generous grant of the Pope to Henry II. of England. As Lanigan shows,2 the evidence is not scanty. John of Salisbury, who claims that he acted as the agent of Henry II. in eliciting the bull, has left this declaration : " Ad preces meas illustri regi Anglorum, Henrico II., con cessit et dedit [Adrianus] Hiberniam jure haereditario pos- sidendam, sicut literae ipsius testantur in hodiernum diem." 8 Giraldus Cambrensis, the leading authority for the history of the Anglo-Norman invasion of Ireland, gives the text of the bull.4 It is given also by Matthew Paris.6 Pope Alexander III. expressly mentioned and confirmed Adri an's grant in a letter addressed to Henry II. in 1172.6 John XXII. evidently had the document by him, as he at tached a copy of it to a brief which he sent to Edward II. 1 Stokes, Ireland and the Anglo-Norman Church. 2 Eccl. Hist, of Ireland, iv. 165, 166. 3 Metalogicus, iv. 42. 4 De Rebus a se Gestis ii. 11 ; Expngnatio Hibernica, ii. 5. 6 Sub Anno, 1155. 6 Giraldus Cambrensis, Expngnatio Hibernica, ii. 5. APPENDIX. 545 Baronius informs us that he took the copy of the bull which appears in his history from the Codex Vaticanus.1 Such a weight of evidence cannot easily be offset. The testimony of John of Salisbury, supplemented by that of Giraldus, and confirmed by the action of Alexander III., is of decisive force. As Stokes remarks : " It will require something more than a priori presumptions to convince us that a document publicly proclaimed, boasted of, confirmed within twenty years of its original grant, was a carefully planned swindle." We add the main portion of the text of Adrian's bull, as also of the confirmatory sentence of Alexander III. : — "Sane Hiberniam, et omnes insulas, quibus sol justitiae Christus illuxit et quae doeumenta fidei Christianae ceperunt, ad jus beati Petri et sacrosanctse Romanae ecclesiae, quod tua etiam nobilitas recognoscit, non est dubium pertinere. Unde tanto in eis libentius plantationem fidelem et germen gratum Deo inserimus, quanto id a nobis interno examine districtius prospicimus exigendum. Significasti siquidem nobis, fili in Christo carissime, te Hibernise insulam, ad subdendum ilium populum legibus, et vitiorum plantaria inde extirpanda, velle intrare ; et de singulis domibus annuam unius denarii beato Petro velle solvere pensionem ; et jura eeclesiarum illius terrae illibata et integra conservare. Nos itaque, pium et laudabile desiderium tuum cum favore con- gruo prosequentes, et petitioni tuae benignum impendentes assensum, gratum et aeceptum habemus, ut pro dilitandis ecclesiae terminis, pro vitiorum restringendo decursu, pro corrigendis moribus et virtutibus inserendis, pro Christianae religionis augmento, insulam illam ingrediaris, et quae ad honorem Dei et salutem illius terrae spectaverint exequaris ; et illius terras populus honorifice te recipiat, et sicut domi- num veneretur. Jure nimirum eeclesiarum illibato et integro 1 Annal. Eccl. xii. 418, anno 1159. 35 546 APPENDIX. permanente, et salva beato Petro, et sacrosanctae Romanae ecclesiae, de singulis domibus annua unius denarii pensione. " Alexander episcopus, servus servorum Dei, carissimo in Christo filio, illustri Anglorum regi, salutem et apostolicam benedictionem. Quoniam ea, quae a decessoribus nostris ra- tionabiliter indulta noscuntur, perpetua merentur stabilitate firmari, venerabilis Adriani papae vestigiis inhaerentes, ves- trique desiderii fructum attendentes, concessionem ejusdem Hibernici regni dominio vobis indulto, salva beato Petro et sacrosanctae Romanae ecclesiae, sicut in Anglia sic et in Hibernia, de singulis domibus annua unius denarii pensione, ratam habemus et confirmamus." III. SORCERY AND WITCHCRAFT. Belief in the reality of sorcery, or the efficacy of certain means to secure the co-operation of a supernatural power, — generally conceived as demoniacal or diabolical, — was a common inheritance of Christians. It was current among the Jews, the Greeks, the Romans, and the barbarian tribes. In the conception of the polytheistic nations the belief may often have had less distinct reference to an evil super- naturalism than was characteristic of it among the profes sors of a monotheistic faith ; but everywhere it embraced kindred elements. Before the modern era, it is true, there was an occasional manifestation of scepticism respecting the reality of the "black arts." The tenor of the communication which Gregory VII. addressed to the King of Denmark does not indicate any confidence in the reality of such arts. The German Emperor, Frederic II., gave tokens of a very scant faith in some of the marvellous effects which were credited APPENDIX. 547 to sorcery. In rare instances a learned jurist, like Ponzi- nibio, who wrote near the beginning of the sixteenth century, had the courage to pronounce magic in general a delusion. But in the view of the great mass of mediaeval Christians the wonder-working sorcerer was a decidedly real being. Imperial Rome gave a precedent for severe dealing with sorcerers. The more obnoxious of their rites were punish able with crucifixion, delivery to beasts, or burning alive. Among Christian emperors, Constantius, Valens, and Valen- tinian furnished examples of great severity toward reputed sorcerers. The laws of the Christianized Germanic tribes contained specifications against sorcery. Still, throughout the earlier part of the Middle Ages there was no attempt at violent repression except in limited areas. By the end of the twelfth century prosecutions had well-nigh ceased. But a terrible revival was begun in the fourteenth century. The prying industry of the Inquisition and the declarations of the popes, notably those of John XXII., breathed new life into the delusion, and stimulated whatever of illicit appetite existed for dabbling with magic. In the fifteenth century the current belief began to take on a more sombre hue. Instead of the conception of a sorcerer who, as a means of livelihood or diversion, used extraordinary powers, sometimes for good and sometimes for evil ends, there commenced to prevail the idea of a witch wholly sold to evil, bound by an infernal compact, and accustomed to frequent nightly assemblies presided over by the devil. This version of the subject met indeed with some objection, but it advanced toward ascendency. The popular faith in the power of the witch to work all kinds of evil, to blast nature, animals, and human bodies, and to indulge iu unclean intercourse with demons, was taken up and promulgated from the highest seats of au thority. Innocent VIII., in the bull Summis desiderantes 548 appendix: (Dec. 2, 1484), sanctioned this faith in all its length and breadth. In the preface to his order for condign punish ment upon witches he uses this description : "Nuper ad nostrum, non sine ingenti molestia, pervenit auditum, quod in nonnullis partibus Alemaniae superioris, etc., quamplures utriusque sexus personae, propriae salutis immemores, et a fide catholica deviantes, cum daemonibus incubis, et succubis abuti, ac suis incantationibus, carminibus, et conjurationi- bus, aliisque nefandis superstitiis, et sortilegiis, excessi- bus, criminibus, et delectis, multorum partus, animalium foetus, terrae fruges, vinearum uvas, et arborum fructus, neenon homines, mulieres, jumenta, pecora, pecudes, et alia diversorum generum animalia, vineas quoque, poma- ria, frata, pascua, blada, frumenta, et alia terrae legumina perire, suffocari, et extingui facere." 1 Such deliverances served naturally to swell popular terror, and to multiply accusations. In the sixteenth and seventeenth centuries the witchcraft delusion wrought with deadly effect. The historian of the Inquisition, Paramo, was able to boast that by the middle of the sixteenth century the Holy Office had burned no less than thirty thousand witches.2 Protestants, as they shared the traditional belief respecting witch craft, helped industriously to swell the awful aggregate of victims.8 1 Raynaldus, anno 1484, n. 74. Shortly afterwards one of the Pope's agents, the Inquisitor Sprenger, prepared the celebrated treatise, Maleus Maleficarum, — a kind of handbook for zealots against witches. This was first published in 1489. 2 De Origine et Progressu Inquisitionis. De peculiari quodam lamiarum gene.re, quae in Germania et Italia, ab anno 1404 cuidam religioni a diabolo excogitatae mancipantur, contra quas adeo acerrime ab inquisitoribus de- pugnatum est, ut centum quinquaginta annis, ad hanc diem, triginta lami arum millia ut minimum fuerunt concremata (p. 296). 8 For a full summary on mediaeval sorcery and witchcraft, see H. C. Lea, "The Inquisition in the Middle Ages," iii. 377-549. APPENDIX. 549 Astrology, though viewed as more or less allied with a questionable magic, and occasionally made a ground of persecution, was treated with a relative tolerance. It had patrons among high dignitaries in Church and State. IV. POPES AND EMPERORS. Date of accession. Popes. Emperors. 582 ..- - Maurice. 590 . Gregory I. 602 . Phocas. 604 . Sabianus. 607 . Boniface III. 608 . Boniface IV. 610 . Heraclius. 615 . Deusdedit. 619 . Boniface V. 621 . Honorius I. 638 . Severinus. 640 . John IV. 641 . Constantine HI. 641 . Constans II. 642 . Theodoras I. 649 . Martin I. 654 . Eugenius I. 657 . Vitalianus. Constantine IV. 672 . Adeodatus. 676 . . Donus or Domnus I. 678 . Agatho. 682 . Leo II. Benedict II. 685 . John V. Justinian II. 550 APPENDIX. liate ot accession. Popes. 686 ... . Conon. 687 . Sergius I. 697 . 701 . John VI. 705 . John VII. 708 . Sisinnius. 708 . , Constantine I. 711 . 713 715 . Gregory II. 716 . 716 731 . . Gregory III. 741 . . Zacharias. 752 . . Stephen II. 752 . Stephen III. 757 . . Paul I. 767 . Constantine II. 768 . Stephen IV. 772 . Adrian I. 795 . Leo III. 814 . 816 . Stephen V. 817 . . Paschal I. 824 . Eugenius II. 827 . . Valentinus. 827 . Gregory IV. 840 . 844 . Sergius II. 847 . LeoIV. 855 . . Benedict III. Emperors. Leontius. Tiberius HI. Justinian H. (restored). Philippicus Bardanes. Anastasius II. Theodosius III. Leo III. (the Isaurian). Constantine V. (Copro- nymus). Germanic Rulers. Charlemagne. Charlemagne (crowned by Pope). Louis the Pious. Lothaire I. Louis II. APPENDIX. 551 Date of Accession. 858867 872 875881 882 8S4S85 887 891S96 S96 897 897898899900 903 903 904 911913 914919928 929 931936 939 942946956963964965972 n. Popes. . Nicolas I. . Adrian II. . JohnVIH. • . Marinus I. . Adrian HI. . Stephen VI. • . Formosus. . Boniface VI. . Stephen VH. . Romanus. . Theodoras H. . John IX. • . . Benedict IV. . LeoV. . . Christophorus. . Sergius HI. . Anastasius HI. . Lando. . John X. • . Leo VI. . Stephen VHI. . John XI. . Leo VII. . Stephen IX. . Marinus IL . . Agapetus H. . John XH. . Leo VHI. . Benedict V. . JohnXIH. . Benedict VI. Emperors. Charles the Bald. Charles the Fat. Arnulf. Louis (the Child). Conrad L Henry I. (the Fowler). Otto I. (or Otho I.). 552 APPENDIX. Date of Accession. 973974974983 984 985 10021003 10031009 1012 10241033103910451046104810491055 1056 1057 1058105810611073108610881099 1106 11181119 1124112511301138 1143 Popes. Emperors. • . . Boniface VII. . Benedict VH. . . John XIV. . Boniface VH. (again). . John XV. . Gregory V. . Sylvester II. • . John XVII. . John XVIIL . Sergius IV. . Benedict VIII. . John XIX. . Benedict IX. • . Gregory VI. . Clement II. . Damasus II. . Leo IX. . Victor II. • . Stephen X. . Benedict X. . Nicolas II. . Alexander II. . Gregory VII. . Victor III. . Urban II. . Paschal II. # . Gelasius II. . Calixtus II. . Honorius II. ¦ . Innocent II. . . Celestine H. Otto II. Otto III. Henry II. Conrad II. Henry IH. Henry IV. Henry V. Lothaire II. Conrad IH. MH"MMI-'H»M>--'H^MMMMMI--'l-Jh-»l-'l-Jl--'l-JMH'h-'MMh-'l--'l-JMMI--'MMMMMM ?.. oo©ooeSa»^Ms^-5-5oiofflo\**>ioi-'POtDcoaiij)ij)()ioiae«t«i^*85§M»SS»aSH-10aSSHO\H^OMHSOOllJll»HO-( 1 — • S 2 eg 3 2 i> t> P P ft- ¦ p - 5-<