YALE UNIVERSITY
LIBRARY

CONSTRUCTIVE BIBLE STUDIES

EDITED BY
ERNEST DEWITT BURTON

GREAT MEN OF THE
CHRISTIAN CHURCH

WILLISTON WALKER

THE UNIVERSITY OP CHICAGO PRESS
CHICAGO, ILLINOIS

Hgents
THE BAKER & TAYLOR COMPANY
NEW YORK
CAMBRIDGE UNIVERSITY PRESS
LONDON AND EDINBURGH

Great Men of the
Christian Church

by
WILLISTON WALKER
PROFESSOR IN YALE UNIVEESITY

Constructive Bible Studies
Advanced and Supplementary Series

THE UNIVERSITY OF CHICAGO PRESS
CHICAGO, ILLINOIS

\^;C>

Copyright 1908 By
The University of Chicago

All Rights Reserved

Published December 1908
Second Impression September 1910

Composed and Printed By
The University of Chicago Press
Chicago, Illinois, U.S.A.

PREFATORY NOTE
This brief series of biographies is designed for the
reader or student without technical training in church
history. For this reason considerable attention has
been paid to the general condition of the church or
of religious thought in the periods in which the
leaders here described did their work, in order that
the reader may appreciate their relations to their
times. The number of biographies might well have
been increased and the selection may easily be criti
cized; but the writer believes that none have been
chosen who were not really representative men, and
his aim has been to illustrate the manifold variety
of Christian service, life, and experience. Missions
will have their separate treatment in another volume
from a different pen.
In mentioning additional reading the aim has been
to present a few only of the most accessible works
in the English language. Questions have been ap
pended to facilitate review or to aid possible instruct
ors who have made no special study of church history.
Yale University
May i, 1908

CONTENTS
g PAGE
Justin Martyr  . i
Tertullian .  21
Ath/vnasius  41
Augustine  63
Patrick  85
Benedict  101
HlLDEBRAND  117
Godfrey  139
•Francisi.  157
Thomas Aquinas  175
John Wiclif  195
Martin Luther  215
John Calvin  235
John Knox  253
Ignatius Loyola  271
George Fox ....  285
Nicolaus Ludwig von Zinzendorf .... 301
John Wesley   319
Jonathan Edwards ...  339
Horace Bushnell  355
Index .  371

JUSTIN MARTYR

I
JUSTIN MARTYR
To pass from the time of the Pauline epistles to
the middle of the second century is to come into a
very different world of thought. The old battle
which the Apostle to the Gentiles had bravely fought
against the imposition of a legalistic Jewish yoke
upon heathen converts had become well-nigh for
gotten ancient history. The destruction of Jeru
salem (a. d. 70) and the rapid growth of churches on
Gentile soil had shifted the center of gravity of the
Christian population, so that the vast majority of
disciples were now of heathen antecedents. Of all
parts of the Roman Empire, Asia Minor was that in
which the church was now most strongly represented.
Syria, northward of Palestine, Macedonia, and
Greece were only in less degree its home. Probably
it was already growing strong in Egypt. A close-
knit, extensive, influential, Greek-speaking congre
gation was to be found in Rome, and a group of
small assemblies existed in the Rhone Valley of what
is now France. Probably, but less certainly, the
church was already well represented in the old Car
thaginian region of Africa; but, in general, the Latin
portion of the Empire was as yet little reached by
the gospel.

4 GREAT MEN OF THE CHRISTIAN CHURCH
Christians, though rapidly growing in numbers,
were still chiefly from the lower classes of the popu
lation and of slight social influence. They were
knit to one another by a common belief in God and
Christ; a confidence in a divine revelation contained
in the Old Testament and continued through men
of the gospel age and subsequent times by the ever-
working Spirit of God ; a morality relatively high as
compared with that of surrounding heathenism;
and a confident hope that the present evil world was
speedily to pass away, and the Kingdom of God to
be established in its stead. As sojourners separated
from the world they owed each other aid, and devel
oped a noble Christian benevolence.
Yet, though the Christianity of the middle of the
second century had possessed itself fully of Paul's
freedom from Jewish ceremonialism, it was far from
being Pauline. It did not consciously reject him;
but it was unable to grasp his more spiritual concep
tions of sin and grace and the significance of Christ's
death. Paul had been only one, if the greatest,
of the missionaries by whom Christianity had been
preached. To ordinary disciples of heathen ante
cedents Christ seemed primarily the revealer of the
one true God whom heathenism had but dimly
known, and the proclaimer of a new and purer law of
right living. God, through Christ, had revealed his
nature and purposes, and had given new command
ments which were to be fulfilled by chaste living and

JUSTIN MARTYR 5
upright conduct. " Keep the commandments of the
Lord, and thou shalt be well-pleasing to God, and
shalt be enrolled among the number of them that
keep his commandments,"1 said Hermas, writing at
Rome between 130 and 140; but he added with an
utterly un-Pauline feeling of the possibility of works of
supererogation: "but if thou do any good thing out
side the commandment of God, thou shalt win for
thyself more exceeding glory." "Fasting is better
than prayer, but almsgiving than both," said a
preacher to his hearers a few years later, probably
in Corinth or Rome.''
These changing conceptions of the Christian life
were not the chief perils, however, which Christianity
was encountering. It had come into no world
empty of thought. As we do now, that age attempted
to interpret the gospel message in the light of its
own science and its own conceptions. It had its
own philosophies and its own religions with their
secrets for those initiated into their mysteries. The
result was a number of interpretations of Christianity,
called in general "Knowledge" (yvoKm), the thought
being that those who possessed this inner and deeper
understanding knew the real essence of the gospel
much better than the ordinary believer. Gnos
ticism had its beginnings before the later books of
the New Testament were written. The Pastoral
1 Similitudes, v: 3.
1 The Sermon erroneously called II Clement, chap. 16.

6 GREAT MEN OF THE CHRISTIAN uuntn
Epistles and the Johannine literature, whenever
composed, contain clear references to it.1 Its full
systems did not, however, develop their power till the
second quarter of the second century. Gnosticism
had many forms, but its essential feature was that
it made the God of the Old Testament a relatively
weak and imperfect being. It taught that the perfect
and hitherto unknown God, far abler and better than
the God of the Old Testament, sent Christ to reveal
himself and to give men the knowledge by which
they can be brought from the kingdom of evil to
that of light. Since most Gnostics regarded this
physical world as evil, any real incarnation was
unthinkable, and Christ's death can have been in
appearance only. If his body was more than a
ghostly deception, then Jesus was a man indwelt by
the divine Christ only from his baptism to shortly
before his expiring agony on the cross.
This thinking, though urged by men of great
ability, denied the historic continuity of Christianity
with the Old Testament revelation, it rejected a real
incarnation, and it changed Christianity from a
historic faith to a higher form of knowledge for the
initiated, explanatory of the origin and nature of
the universe. This Gnostic crisis was the most
severe through which the church had yet passed;
and its dangers were doubly increased when essen
tially Gnostic views of the Old Testament and of the
'E.g., I Tim. 1:4; 6:20; II Tim. 3:6-8; IJohn4:2>3.

JUSTIN MARTYR 7
inferior character of the God therein revealed, though
by no means all the Gnostic positions, were advocated
by a man of deep religious spirit, in some respects
the first church reformer of history, Marcion. Hav
ing come from Asia Minor to Rome about 140, he
broke with the Roman church in 144, charging it,
not wholly groundlessly, with having perverted
Paul's Gospel to a new Jewish legalism. To him
Paul was the only genuine apostle; and he gathered
a little collection of sacred writings, including ten of
Paul's epistles and the Gospel of Luke, but shorn
of all passages intimating that the God of the Old
Testament was identical with Him whom Christ
revealed. All the rest of the apostles and of our
New Testament writings he rejected. It was indeed
true that the church of his day was un-Pauline; but
his Paulinism was of a type which Paul himself
would have been the first to discredit.
To the Gnostics the party in the church repre
senting historic Christianity replied by gathering a
collection of authoritative writings, the major part
of our New Testament; by the preparation of creeds,
of which that at the basis of what we wrongly call
the "Apostles" is the earliest; and, especially, by ap
pealing to the teaching handed down in the churches
founded by the apostles, and guaranteed by the con
tinuity of their officers. Out of this struggle the
rigid, doctrinally conservative, legalistic church of the
third century — the "Old Catholic" church — came.

8 GREAT MEN OF THE CHRISTIAN CHURCH
To these perils from within were added the
dangers which sprang from popular hatred, due to
heathen misunderstanding and jealousy, and to the
occasional active hostility of the Roman government,
which viewed the new religion as unpatriotic and
stubborn because of the unwillingness of its ad
herents to conform to the worship prescribed by the
state. Its feeling was much that which would
animate many among us should any considerable
party now refuse to honor the flag. To the unthink
ing, because they refused to join in the worship
which the state required, the Christians seemed at
once atheistic and unpatriotic. Popular superstition,
because of their refusal to share in heathen festivals
and their worship by themselves, charged them with
practices of revolting immorality. The Jews, also,
though politically insignificant, were critical of
Christianity; and, existing as they did in every large
Roman community, their objections had to be met.
These conditions determined Justin's work.- He
would defend Christianity against its heathen
opponents, its Jewish critics, and its enemies within
its own household. Hence the threefold battle which
he fought.
Justin, in whom is to be seen one of the most
characteristic Christian figures, as well as one of the
most useful Christian writers, of the second century,
was a native of Flavia Neapolis, near the older
Shechem, in ancient Samaria. Though thus born

JUSTIN MARTYR 9
within the bounds of Palestine, and speaking of
himself as a Samaritan, he was uncircumcised and
doubtless of heathen origin and training. It was
not till after his conversion that he became familiar
with the Old Testament. Of the date of his birth
nothing certain is known ; but it must have been not
far from the year ioo. From early youth he was
evidently studious, and he gives, in his Dialogue
with Trypho,x a picturesque account of his search
for a satisfactory philosophy. His first initiation
was through a Stoic, but when he sought knowledge
of God this instructor told him it was needless. He
then turned to the Aristotelians, but the promptness
with which the teacher sought his fee made him
doubt the genuineness of such interested claims. A
Pythagorean next was sought, but this philosopher
insisted on extensive preliminary acquaintance with
music, astronomy, and geometry. Discouraged thus,
Justin now turned with hope to a Platonist, and
found real satisfaction in this most spiritual of ancient
philosophies. He must have made no little progress
in his new studies, for he now adopted the philoso
pher's cloak as his distinctive garb — a dress which
he thenceforth always wore. Yet, even while a
Platonist, the constancy with which Christians met
death impressed him, and led him to doubt the
crimes with which they were popularly charged. It
was through the gateway of his beloved philosophy
1 Chap. ii.

10 GREAT MEN OF THE CHRISTIAN CHURCH
that Justin was to be brought, however, into the
Christian fold. As he tells the story, a chance meet
ing with an old man, as he walked by the sea, prob
ably near Ephesus, resulted in a discussion in which
his adviser turned his attention to the prophets as
"men more ancient than all those who are esteemed
philosophers, both righteous and beloved of God,
who spoke by the Divine Spirit, and foretold events
which would take place, and which are now taking
place  Their writings are still extant. "I The
effect upon the inquirer was immediate and power
ful. "Straightway," he records, "a flame was
kindled in my soul; and a love of the prophets, and
of those men who are friends of Christ, possessed
me; and .... I found this philosophy alone to
be safe and profitable. Thus, and for this reason, I
am a philosopher."2
This conversion, whether the exact circumstances
narrated are historic or are the product of Justin's
literary skill, took place, we may conjecture, before
a. d. 135, and therefore before he had reached
middle life.3 Its fundamental experience was in
entire harmony with Justin's previous philosophic
1 Dialogue, chap. vii.
3 Ibid., chap. viii.
3 In his Dialogue he pictures his conversion as having oc
curred, possibly some considerable time, before his meeting with
the Jew, Trypho, who is represented as "having escaped from the
war lately carried on" in Judea, i. e., Bar Cochba's rebellion,
I32-3S-

JUSTIN MARTYR II
training. Its central feature was not, as with Paul, a
profound sense of sin, and of new life through union
with Christ, but rather a conviction that God had
spoken through the prophets and revealed truth in
Christ, and in this message alone was to be found the
true philosophy of conduct and life and the real ex
planation of the world here and hereafter. To him
the Old Testament was always the Book of books;
but primarily because it foretold the Christ that was
to come. For these truths he was willing to suffer;
and to teach them became henceforth his employ
ment. Just where he lived and labored it is, in
general, impossible to. say; but he was in Rome soon
after the year 150, and it was there that he was later
to meet his death.
It was at Rome, not improbably in 152 or 153,
and certainly within the four or five years immediately
subsequent to 150, that Justin wrote his noteworthy
defense of Christianity against its heathen opponents
which placed him first among Christian " apologists. "
This earnest appeal for justice — the Apology1 — is
addressed to the emperor, Antoninus Pius (138-
161), and his adopted sons, Marcus Aurelius and
Lucius Verus. In direct and manly fashion he calls
upon these rulers to ascertain whether Christians
are really guilty of the charges popularly laid against
1 The so-called First and Second Apologies are really one.
They may be found, in English translation in, The Ante-Nicene
Fathers, I, 163-93.

12 GREAT MEN OF THE CHRISTIAN CHURCH
them and not to condemn them on the mere name.
The Christians are accused of atheism, but they
disown only the old gods, whose existence Justin
does not deny, but whom he regards as wicked
demons. We confess that we are atheists, so far as gods of this sort
are concerned, but not with respect to the most true God, the
Father of righteousness and temperance and the other virtues,
who is free from all impurity.
They are charged with disloyalty to the Roman
state; but that is due to a misunderstanding of the
nature of the kingdom that Christians seek.
When you hear that we look for a kingdom you suppose,
without making any inquiry, that we speak of a human king
dom; whereas we speak of that which is with God.
Christians are not disloyal. On the contrary
their principles make them the best of citizens.
More than all other men we are your helpers and allies
in promoting peace, seeing that we hold this view, that it is
alike impossible for the wicked, the covetous, the conspirator,
and for the virtuous, to escape the notice of God, and that
each man goes to everlasting punishment or salvation accord
ing to the value of his actions.
Christians worship God, Justin declares, ration
ally; not by destroying the good things he has given
by useless sacrifices, but offering
thanks by invocations and hymns for our creation, and for all
the means of health, and for the various qualities of the differ
ent kinds of things, and for the changes of the seasons; and to
present before Him petitions for our existing again in incor-

JUSTIN MARTYR " 13
ruption through faith in Him. Our teacher of these things is
Jesus Christ, who also was born for this purpose, and was
crucified under Pontius Pilate, procurator of Judea, in the
times of Tiberius Caesar; and that we reasonably worship
Him, having learned that He is the son of the true God Him
self, and holding Him in the second place, and the prophetic
Spirit in the third, we will prove.
The last quotation shows that Justin's view of
Christ had not developed the form which we are
accustomed to connect with the doctrine of the Trin
ity, judged by the standards of the fourth and fifth
centuries. He has a doctrine of the Trinity, but it is
relatively unthought-out. Yet his view of Christ is
lofty indeed. It sees in him the divine activity
always manifest in the world, the constant outflowing
of the wisdom of God, or we might say, the intel
ligence of God in action. Taking up the "Logos"
doctrine of the Stoic philosophers, so akin in many
respects to that of the Fourth Gospel, and so easily
combined with the conception of the divine "Wis
dom," set forth, for example in Proverbs,1 Justin
taught that the divine intelligence had been always
at work, not merely in creation and in the revelation
of God to an Abraham or a Moses, but illuminating
a Socrates or a Heraclitus, and the source of all good
everywhere. In Jesus, this divine Wisdom was fully
revealed. It, or to reflect Justin's view we should
say He, "took shape, and became man, and was
called Jesus Christ."
1 Prov. 8:22-31.

14 GREAT MEN OF THE CHRISTIAN CHURCH
In speaking of Justin's conversion, mention was
made of the importance which he attached to the
prophets and to the fulfilment of their utterances.
They were men " through whom the prophetic Spirit
published beforehand things that were to come to
pass." It was therefore natural that a large part
of his Apology and of his Dialogue with Trypho was
devoted to an exposition of such of their utterances
as he believed bore on the life and significance of
Christ; but he went much farther. Like Jewish
writers before him, he looked upon the philosophers
of Greece, especially his honored Plato, as having
borrowed much from Moses. In Christianity was
that true philosophy which all the philosophers, in
so far as they have seen truth at all, have dimly
perceived. The Jews, in his opinion, had special
ordinances, such as the Sabbath, circumcision, and
abstinence from unclean meats, given them on
account of the peculiar "hardness of their hearts;"
but Christ has now established "another covenant
and another law. " He has revealed God and God's
will to men ; has overcome the demons who deceived
men and delighted in their sins, whom Justin iden
tifies with the old gods; and has appointed baptism
as the rite effecting the remission of offenses. Christ's
work is, in Justin's estimation, essentially that of a
Revealer and Lawgiver, though he is not without
some appreciation of the saving significance of his
life and death and declares that "we trust in the

JUSTIN MARTYR 15
blood of salvation." This redeeming aspect of
Christ's work remains, however, relatively unde
veloped. Thus Justin defended Christianity against its hea
then and its Jewish critics. He also replied to its
foes of its own household, but his writings against
Marcion are lost. His attitude may, however, be
surmised from his declaration that "the devils put
forward Marcion of Pontus. " The contest with
Gnosticism was, indeed, strenuous; but charity to
ward those deemed "heretics" was never one of
the virtues of the early church.
A most interesting glimpse is afforded in Justin's
Apology of the yet simple worship of the Roman
church in the middle of the second century. Admis
sion to its membership was by faith, repentance,
an upright life, and baptism, though in Justin's view
faith is primarily an acceptance of Christ's teachings
rather than as with Paul a new personal relationship.
As many as are persuaded and believe that what we teach
and say is true, and undertake to be able to live accordingly,
are instructed to pray and to entreat God with fasting, for
the remission of their sins that are past, we praying and fasting
with them. Then they are brought by us where there is
water, and are regenerated in the same manner in which we
were ourselves regenerated.
He who was baptized was counted fully of the
church and shared in its worship. On Sunday
the congregations gathered in city or country; the
" memoirs of the apostles, " i. e., the gospels, or

1 6 GREAT MEN OF THE CHRISTIAN CHURCH
"the writings of the prophets" were read. Then
the "president," for Justin avoids technical terms
for church officers, "verbally instructed," that is,
preached a sermon. Next, all rose and prayed
standing, the "president" doubtless leading, and the
people responding "Amen." Prayer ended, they
"saluted one another with a kiss." Bread and
wine mingled with water were next brought to the
"president," probably by the deacons; and after
"prayers and thanksgivings" offered by him, the
Lord's Supper was administered to those present, and
the consecrated elements were taken by the deacons
to the absent. The service closed with a collection,
from which the necessities of widows, orphans, the
ill, prisoners, and strangers were relieved; for "the
wealthy among us help the needy, and we always
keep together." A pleasing picture, surely, of the
simple worship and mutual helpfulness of what it
must be remembered were still close-knit little con
gregations, regarding themselves as separate from
the world, and all too unjustly looked upon by it as
misanthropic, unpatriotic, atheistical, and guilty of
secret crimes.
Justin himself was to receive the crown of martyr
dom. After the composition of his Apology he left
Rome, but of his journeys we know nothing, and he
was back in the city where he was to die during the
governorship of its "prefect," Junius Rusticus, that
is between 163 and 167, in the early part of the reign

JUSTIN MARTYR 17
of Marcus Aurelius. The account of his trial gives
an interesting picture of the examination of a com
pany of Christians at the bar of Roman justice.1
In form, as in all ancient procedure, it was much
like an examination in a modern police court, the
judge questioning and sentencing the prisoners.
Justin was brought before Rusticus, with six other
Christians, one a woman, whom the judge evidently
regarded as his disciples.
Rusticus the prefect said to Justin, "Obey the gods at
once, and submit to the Kings." Justin said, "To obey the
commandments of our Saviour, Jesus Christ, is worthy neither
of blame nor of condemnation." Rusticus the prefect said,
"What kind of doctrines do you profess?" Justin said, "I
have endeavored to learn all doctrines; but I have acquiesced
at last in the true doctrines, namely of the Christians, even
though they do not please those who hold false opinions."
Rusticus the prefect said, "Are those the doctrines that please
you, you utterly wretched man?" Justin said, "Yes, since
I adhere to them with orthodoxy."2
Justin then tried to explain Christianity; but the
judge soon cut him short.
Rusticus the prefect said, "Tell me where you assemble,
or into what place do you collect your followers?" Justin
said, "I live above one Martinus, at the Timiotinian Bath;
and during the whole time (and I am now living in Rome for
the second time) I am unaware of any other meeting than his."
1 Its genuineness, formerly doubted, is now generally admitted.
See Harnack, Ceschichte der altchrist. Litteratur, Chronologie,
I, 282. * The Ante-Nicene Fathers, I, 305, 306.

18 GREAT MEN OF THE CHRISTIAN CHURCH
Whether this was literally so may be doubted,
but Justin was not unnaturally anxious to prevent
persecution extending to his fellow-Christians.1
Rusticus said, "Are you not then a Christian?" Justin
said, "Yes, I am a Christian. "
Thus satisfied of the guilt of the prisoner, the
judge turned to his six fellow-accused, and tried to
make several of them acknowledge themselves
Justin's disciples. They all promptly owned them
selves Christians, but gave evasive answers as to
Justin's share in their conversion, doubtless wishing
to shield him. But the judge was disposed to over
look the past provided the prisoners would now
yield full obedience. Here came, as in most early
Christian trials, the real test of steadfastness; and
a terrible test it was. A pinch of incense cast on
the fire burning on the altar before the bench would
have freed them; but it would, in the opinion of
the time, have been a denial of Christ.
The prefect says to Justin, "Hearken, you who are called
learned, and think that you know true doctrines; if you are
scourged and beheaded, do you believe you will ascend into
heaven?" Justin said, "I hope that, if I endure these things,
I shall have His gifts. For I know that, to all who have thus
lived, there abides the divine favor until the completion of the
whole world." Rusticus the prefect said, "Do you suppose,
then, that you will ascend into heaven to receive some recom-
1 Possibly Justin meant that his was the only " school " where
Christianity was taught in Rome. See Harnack, Die Mission
und Ausbreitung des Christentums, p. 260.

JUSTIN MARTYR 19
pense?" Justin said, "I do not suppose it, but I know and
am fully persuaded of it." Rusticus the prefect said, "Let
us, then, now come to the matter in hand, and which presses.
Having come together, offer sacrifice with one accord to the
gods." Justin said, "No right-thinking person falls away from
piety to impiety. " Rusticus the prefect said, "Unless ye obey,
ye shall be mercilessly punished." Justin said, "Through
prayer we can be saved on account of our Lord Jesus Christ,
even when we have been punished, because this shall become to
us salvation and confidence at the more fearful and universal
judgment-seat of our Lord and Saviour. " Thus also said the
other martyrs: "Do what you will, for we are Christians, and
do not sacrifice to idols." Rusticus the prefect pronounced
sentence, saying, "Let those who have refused to sacrifice to
the gods and to yield to the command of the emperor be
scourged, and led away to suffer the punishment of decapita
tion, according to the laws. "
So died, a martyr for his faith, one of the most
deserving of the Christian leaders of the second
century. QUESTIONS
1. What was the state of Christianity in the middle of
the second century? Its geographical extent? Its external
enemies ?
2. How far was this Christianity Pauline ?
3. Gnosticism, its nature and dangers ? How was it met ?
4. The circumstances of Justin's life? His conversion?
His chief writings ?
5. Against what charges and how does he defend the Chris
tians? 6. Justin's view of Christ ?
7. His valuation of the Old Testament ? His opinion of
the old gods ?

20 GREAT MEN OF THE CHRISTIAN CHURCH
8. How does he describe the terms of admission to the
church ? Its services ?
9. The circumstances of Justin's trial and death.
ADDITIONAL READING
F. W. Farrar, Lives of the Fathers (New York, 1889), I, 93-
117.
Philip Schaff, History of the Christian Church (New York,
1889), II, 710-26

TERTULLIAN

II
TERTULLIAN
The general tendencies characteristic of the church
in the days of Justin continued to show their force
during the half-century that followed his martyr
dom. At his death the Gnostic movement, against
which he struggled, was at its height. It continued
to engage the opposing strength of the ablest cham
pions of what was beginning to call itself the " Catho
lic," that is "Universal," church, in distinction from
all " heretical " bodies. That name goes back indeed
to Ignatius of Antioch, and the opening years of
the second century ; but was used by him as a desig
nation of the ideal communion of all Christians, as
we now speak of the "invisible" church. But, by
the close of the second century, it was becoming
the designation of the visible, close-knit body,
spreading throughout the Roman Empire, and
representing historic Christianity over against the
more recent speculations of Gnosticism. Its em
phasis on the succession of its officers as guarantee
ing the continuity of its faith, its insistence on testing
purity of doctrine by creeds, and its recognition of a
collection of authoritative New Testament books,
were the chief means by which it fought the "here
tics;" but these characteristics tended rapidly to
23

24 GREAT MEN OF THE CHRISTIAN CHURCH
bind Christianity with fixed forms of worship, of
doctrine, and of organization, to legalize and exter
nalize it, and were therefore producing that com
pactly organized, rigid form of the church which
has been well called by modern scholars the "Old
Catholic," to distinguish it from the later Greek
and Roman Catholic churches, which in so many
ways resembled it.
Yet it would be wrong to look upon this develop
ment as wholly an evil. No organization less com
pact and united could probably have conquered the
Roman Empire. It is difficult, moreover, to see in
what other ways the Gnostics could have been over
come. What could a Christian of the second cen
tury answer to their claims to a new and profound
knowledge of Christianity, but that their views were
not contained in the writings of apostles and Evangel
ists, and had never been taught by the responsible
officers of the churches which the apostles founded ?
The result of this reply was, however, twofold. It
emphasized the feeling that the bishops, who had
become well-nigh universal by the middle of the
second century, by reason of their position as heads
of important churches, were guardians of the faith
handed down from the apostles; and it specially
increased the prestige, as fountains of pure doctrine,
of those churches in which the apostles themselves
had labored. There, certainly, it was easy to think,
men would know what the apostles had taught, and

TERTULLIAN 25
by them error could be detected and resisted. Of
these apostolic churches there were many in the
eastern half of the Empire; but the West claimed
only one — that of Rome — rendered doubly in
fluential by its position in the capital of the Empire
and its numerous congregation. Hence we find
the anti-heretical champions of the latter half of the
second century urging the necessity of agreement in
doctrine with Rome. Not that they recognized in
the Roman church any legislative authority; but
because Christian truth had there been handed down
since Paul; and Peter also (so men of the closing
quarter of the second century firmly, and probably
truly, believed), had there taught and suffered.
Conspicuous among these champions was Ire-
naeus, the ablest theologian of the second century.
While recent discussion has been much divided as
to the epoch of his birth,1 he was evidently a native
of Asia Minor, and in youth a hearer of the martyr,
Polycarp of Smyrna, who, in turn, had listened to
the apostle John. How much Irenaeus received
from Polycarp may well be questioned, but he un
doubtedly represented and transmitted the Asia
Minor type of theology, of which the Johannine
Gospel and epistles are the highest productions.
His work was not to be, however, in his native region.
About 154 he visited Rome; and, before 177, was
1 Zahn puts it about 115; Hamack, 135-142. Polycarp
suffered February 23, 155.

26 GREAT MEN OF THE CHRISTIAN CHURCH
a presbyter in the far-off Christian outpost of Lyons
in what is now France. In the year last mentioned
a severe persecution of that congregation began. Its
aged bishop, Pothinus, suffered martyrdom; and to
the office thus made vacant Irenaeus succeeded,
holding it till his death, soon after 190. Here in the
closing years of his bishopric, 181-89, ^e wrote his
chief work, Against Heresies. To him the New
Testament is fully as authoritative as the Old, and
the tradition handed down in churches of apostolic
foundation is its proper interpreter. Scripture and
tradition alike, he urged, give no countenance to the
Gnosticism which he elaborately described and
refuted. But he had his own clear central theologic
thought of the work of Christ. He is the most
original theologian since Paul. God made man in
his own image and like himself immortal; but Adam
broke this union and destroyed in large part God's
work, man becoming mortal thereby. In Christ the
work so interrupted has been restored; mortality
becomes immortal; and hence he is the head of a
redeemed humanity.1 It is interesting to note also,
that in Irenaeus we find the earliest clear intimation
of the prevalence of infant baptism;2 and that his own
anticipation, like that of the apostolic age, placed
the coming of Christ to reign over a redeemed earth
near at hand. In Irenaeus Gnosticism had its most
¦ Book III, 18, 1.
' Book II, 22, 4.

TERTULLIAN 27
able opponent, and the forming "Old Catholic"
church one of its most gifted defenders.
Irenaeus belonged to two epochs. In him the
traditional theology of the early church as illustrated
in such a doctrine as that of Christ's speedy second
coming was combined with the newer emphasis on
creed, organization, and orderly succession — thoughts
which logically involved the expectation of a slow
and long-protracted growth of the church. In most
minds the millennial anticipation was growing dim,
and close-knit order, regular succession, and agree
ment with generally recognized creeds were becoming
the tests of the true church, rather than that imme
diate, enthusiastic confidence in the leadership of the
Spirit and his inspiration of "spirit-filled" men which
had marked the apostolic age1 and persisted in ever-
weakening measure into the second century. It
was natural, however, that a reaction in favor of the
older views should manifest itself, and such a revival
of the earlier faith in the direct and present special
inspiration of Christians by the Spirit appeared in
an exaggerated form in Montanism.
Soon after the middle of the second century, pos
sibly in 157, Montanus, who is said to have been a
recently Christianized priest of Cybele, began his
teaching in Phrygia, in Asia Minor. With him as
a prophet were soon joined two prophetesses, Prisca
and Maximilla, the latter of whom survived her
1 E. g., I Cor. 12:4-11.

28 GREAT MEN OF THE CHRISTIAN CHURCH
associates and died in 179. To their thinking the
promise of Christ that "the Spirit of Truth"1 should
come was fulfilled in their utterances. They affirmed
the immediately approaching end of the world ; and
declared that, as a preparation, all Christians should
lead lives of peculiar asceticism. Paul had recom
mended abstinence from marriage for the same rea
son,2 but the ascetic spirit had been steadily rising
since his time, and Montanus went much farther.
He commended virginity as specially pleasing to
God, condemned a second marriage as unlawful,
and greatly multiplied and increased the strenuous-
ness of fasts. Martyrdom was not to be avoided
by flight, but sought as an honor to Christ. These
views won widespread following, and were soon
represented, not only in Asia Minor, but in the
western portions of the Empire, where their ascetic
rather than their prophetic aspects won most ap
proval. Such was the situation in the church when
Quintus Septimius Florens Tertullianus began his
noteworthy activity as a writer on Christian themes.
Born in the ancient Carthage, probably between the
years 150 and 155, he was the son of a centurion in
Roman service, and was educated in the excellent
schools of that flourishing capital of Roman North
Africa as a heathen. Here and at Rome he studied
1 John 16:13.
2 I Cor. 7 : 7, 24-40.

TERTULLIAN 29
rhetoric and philosophy, and gained considerable
acquaintance with law, though the extent of his legal
knowledge has probably been usually exaggerated.
Of passionate, fiery nature, intense in all that he did,
his life as a heathen attorney in Carthage, or pos
sibly also in Rome, was not unspotted; and on his
conversion to Christianity, an event which occurred
in one of the years from about 185 to 195, he mani
fested at once a Puritan severity. He was chosen
a presbyter at some uncertain date, but probably
not long after his conversion. He never rose to
higher rank in the ministry. In 202 or 203, during
the reign of Septimius Severus, a wave of persecu
tion swept over the North African church, and it is
probable that in connection with its strenuous
sifting of the disciples there Tertullian became
acquainted with the courage and enthusiasm of the
Montanists. Their asceticism attracted him. By
206-8, he had attached himself to them wholly and
had broken with the "Old Catholic" church, which
from now onward he unsparingly condemned.
All of his later writings show him as a convinced
Montanist; but, if a tradition preserved by Augustine
is to be trusted, he separated in old age from even
these associates and founded a little sect of his own.
Certainly so-called Tertullianists were to be found
in Carthage nearly two centuries subsequent to his
death, which took place not long after the year 222.
Great as his services to theology, especially to that

30 GREAT MEN OF THE CHRISTIAN CHURCH
of Latin Christendom, were to be, this Montanism,
so congenial to his enthusiastic and Puritanic tem
perament, has robbed him of the fame that would
otherwise have been his. Without this "heresy,"
he would undoubtedly have lived in Christian tra
dition as "Saint" Tertullian. Yet his asceticism
went little farther than that which the "Catholic"
church was to praise within two centuries of his
death; while his faith in the prophetic claims of
Montanism was hardly more than an exaggeration
of that belief in the guidance of the Holy Spirit which
had been universal in the church of the apostolic age.
Tertullian' s chief fame is as a writer. Though
he used Greek freely and wrote in that language
treatises that are now lost, North Africa was a Latin-
speaking land, and Latin was the vehicle which he
preferred. By its use he became "the father of
church Latinity. " He stamped the impress of his
own thought and usage permanently on the language.
Nervous, vigorous, often strained and far-fetched in
his speech, he is always the passionate advocate of
his cause. Tertullian was never dull. He was
often unfair to opponents, not always consistent with
himself, but always readable and effective. His
force was that of a mighty, passionate personality,
who felt strongly and wrote at a white heat.
Tertullian's tracts, about thirty of which have
survived, naturally fall into three great groups, the
earliest, written before 202, which show no Mon-

TERTULLIAN 31
tanist leanings, those of his transition period, and
those after his breach with the "Old Catholic"
church and full acceptance of Montanism. His vehe
ment invective, always marked, rises to its greatest
heights as he feels himself the representative of a
small and rejected Christian party.
Tertullian's writings embrace a great variety of
themes. He defended his conceptions of Christian
ity against Marcion, Praxeas, and other "heretics."
He exhorted his readers to modesty in apparel and
conduct. He warned against the theater, second
marriages, or flight in persecution. He encouraged
martyrs. He discussed the soul, baptism, penance,
patience, prayer, idolatry, the resurrection. The
whole round of Christian life and doctrine interested
him. To Tertullian's thinking Christianity is a great
divine foolishness, wiser than the merely human
wisdom of the deepest philosophies, but in no way
to be squared with them. " Away with all attempts
to produce a mottled Christianity of Stoic, Platonic,
and dialectic composition. We want no curious
disputation after possessing Christ Jesus, no in
quisition after enjoying the gospel. With our faith
we desire no further belief."1 This was the direct
contradiction, not merely of the Gnostic position, but
of the influential school of theology then beginning
in Alexandria, of which Origen was to be the most
1 Prescription, chap. vii.

32 GREAT MEN OF THE CHRISTIAN CHURCH
brilliant teacher. That school viewed philosophy
as the handmaid of a true theology, and sought to
unite the two in a great intellectual explanation of
Christian truth. Christianity, in Tertullian's teach
ing, demands a complete change of life. Christ
" preached the new law and the new promise of the
kingdom of heaven."1 This Christian inheritance
is the possession solely, Tertullian argues, of the
orthodox church. In his Prescription against Here
tics, written between 198 and 203, and therefore
before he became a Montanist, he denies to the
"heretics" any right in the Scriptures, or any share
in true Christian tradition, and appeals to the
churches founded by the apostles as the depositaries
and guardians of the truth. That truth once pos
sessed, it is merely idle curiosity to inquire farther.
"You must 'seek' until you 'find,' and believe when
you have found ; nor have you anything further to do
but to keep what you have believed."2 The prin
ciple he here enunciates is one of mighty influence
in the church till the Reformation broke its fetters.
It makes it the prime duty of the Christian to accept
unquestioningly the faith which the church trans
mits to him.
Tertullian has, however, a keener sense of the
depths of human sinfulness, and of the need of divine
grace for man's rescue than any writer had possessed
1 Prescription, chap. xiii.
* Ibid., chap. ix.

TERTULLIAN 33
since Paul. Christianity is above all a revelation of
salvation; and this primacy of the great doctrines of
sin and grace he was to impress on the Latin portion
of Christendom to a degree never paralleled in the
East, and that may be said to have influenced ulti
mately all Latin and Reformation thought. But
though profoundly conscious of the reality and de
pravity of sin, Tertullian lays great weight on works
in his doctrine of salvation. We are "competitors
for salvation in earning the favor of God;"1 by public
confession, by " mortification of our flesh and spirit, "
we " make satisfaction for our former sins. "2 These
merits flow chiefly from confession, self-humilia
tion, and voluntary ascetic practices. All this is un-
Pauline enough; but it moved in a direction that
aroused few protests till the Reformation epoch.
The means for the forgiveness of sins is the
divinely instituted rite of baptism, by which "we
are set free into eternal life. " It can be received but
once, though a martyr's death constitutes for him an
exceptional and effective second baptism; and hence
so precious a remedy for sin is not to be lightly used.
To Tertullian's thinking, children and the unmarried
should postpone it, because not yet fixed in char
acter.3 This delay of baptism, in order that its
benefit might extinguish as large an amount of one's
total accumulation of sins as possible, was nothing
1 Repentance, chap. vi. * Baptism, chap. xx.
3 Ibid., passim.

34 GREAT MEN OF THE CHRISTIAN CHURCH
peculiar to Tertullian, and had a curious illustra
tion, to mention a single instance, in the case, a
century later, of the emperor Constantine, who
postponed the rite till his last illness.
But sins are committed after baptism; and the
attitude of the church toward those of a heinous
nature was changing in Tertullian's time, and with
it the conception of what the church itself is. From
New Testament days the church had been looked
upon as a company of actual disciples of Christ —
as "saints," though still imperfect — and some sins
were so bad as to bar out the sinner from it forever.1
Murder, apostasy, and adultery were looked upon
as such offenses; and Tertullian clearly states the
distinction between venial and deadly sins which
was thus implied.2 For severe sins, not of the un
forgivable category, however, God had provided
a remedy through public confession, which Tertul
lian calls a "second reserve of aid against hell"3 —
baptism being the first; but, like baptism, it was to
be used once only; it was the last hope. Whether
the church had any hope to offer to grievous sinners,
or to those who had exhausted their repentance,
was in dispute in Tertullian's time. He himself
seems in his earlier period to have inclined to the
milder view that God might have some mercy even
"I John 5:16; Hebrews 6:4-6; 10:26.
' Modesty, chap. ii.
3 Repentance, chap. xii.

TERTULLIAN 35
for great offenses;1 but his Montanistic rigor in later
life disposed him to the earlier severity. Tertullian's
final tract, On Modesty, was a biting reproof to
Bishop Calixtus of Rome (217/8-222/3) who by his
own fiat had declared his willingness to treat adultery
and fornication as forgivable sins, after which the
repentant offender could be restored to church fellow
ship. This high-handed act of the Bishop of Rome
was but the logical outcome of the feeling that had
been growing in the church that the officers of the
congregation — above all its bishop — were its organs
in judging and pronouncing censure and restoration.
In Pauline times the right of the whole congregation,
it came naturally to be exercised through the executive
officers. But Calixtus' removal of these offenses
from the list of the unforgivable implied a change
in the original theory of the church itself — it is no
longer viewed as a household of "saints," but as an
agency for salvation. Calixtus himself likened it to
Noah's Ark, full of clean and unclean beasts. The
two conceptions of the church have persisted, and
today divide Christendom. Those bodies which
insist on conscious Christian discipleship as the
condition of membership represent the older view;
while those communions, which, like the state
churches, reckon all who have been baptized as of
their membership, and require no profession of a
1 Ibid., chap, viii; written between 198 and 203.

36 GREAT MEN OF THE CHRISTIAN CHURCH
"change of heart," stand essentially on the inclusive
basis which Calixtus expressed. Conservatives,
like the Montanist Tertullian, might protest; but
Calixtus undoubtedly, rather than he, represented
the tendency of the times. His theory of the church
explains how after the attitude of the Roman govern
ment had been changed, a century later, to one of
favor to Christianity, the population was swept by
the thousand into at least nominal membership in
the church.
In one very important theological doctrine
Tertullian coined and gave significance to many of
the later phrases employed in its discussion — that of
the Trinity. The word itself he brought into its
present use. Such terms as one "substance," in
which the Father, Son, and Spirit alike share, as
well as the clear distinction between the divine and
the human in Christ — who, to him, is God and man,
joined in one person without confusion — he wrought
out, largely by the light afforded by Stoic philosophy,
for, in spite of his contempt for philosophy, he made
use of it when he chose. His late treatise Against
Praxeas, written between 213 and 218, was the
clearest exposition of the "Logos" Christology that
had yet appeared, and not only gave a fixed content
to many of the Latin terms he employed, but in
many respects anticipated the Nicene decision of a
century later in its formulation of the doctrine of
the Trinity.

TERTULLIAN 37
Possibly the best illustration, however, of Tertul
lian's fiery nature, his mastery of invective, and no
less of the revolt of the Christians of his day from the
brutalizing public spectacles by which the heathen
population was amused and degraded, and of their
confidence in the coming triumph of the Kingdom of
God, may be drawn from a pastoral denunciation,
written before he became a Montanist. The
amusements of his day in the theater were often
grossly licentious, while those of the gladiatorial
amphitheater were cruel in the extreme. Both ap
pealed to the crudest and lowest passions of human
nature. Neither was, in Tertullian's judgment, fit
for Christian eyes. But he went much farther than
mere criticism. He was evidently goaded by heathen
taunts. Over against the temporary spectacles of
the present he placed the vivid realities of a day
of judgment, already discerned by faith. It is,
harshly and unsympathetically indeed, an exhibition
of that "other-worldliness" with which these de
spised Christians comforted themselves amid the
sensuality, cruelty, and hostility about them. It
speaks the fierce longing, natural to the human
heart, for a day of vengeance on their enemies.
What1 a spectacle is that fast-approaching advent of our
Lord, now owned by all, now highly exalted, now a triumphant
One! What that exultation of the angelic hosts! What the
glory of the rising saints! What the kingdom of the just
1 De spectaculis, chap. xxx.

38 GREAT MEN OF THE CHRISTIAN CHURCH
thereafter! What the city New Jerusalem! Yes, and there
are other sights: that last day of judgment, with its everlasting
issues; that day unlooked for by the nations, the theme of
their derision, when the world hoary with age and all its many
products shall be consumed in one great flame! How vast a
spectacle then bursts upon the eye! What then excites my
admiration? What my derision? Which sight gives me
joy? Which rouses me to exultation? — as I see so many
illustrious monarchs, whose reception into the heavens was
publicly announced,1 groaning now in the lowest darkness
with great Jove himself, and those, too, who bore witness of
their exaltation; governors of provinces, too, who persecuted
the Christian name, in fires more fierce than those with which
in the days of their pride they raged against the followers of
Christ. What world's wise men besides, the very philoso
phers . . . now covered with shame before the poor deluded
ones, as one fire consumes them! Poets, also, trembling not
before the judgment-seat of Rhadamanthus or Minos, but
of the unexpected Christ! I shall have a better opportunity
then of hearing the tragedians, louder-voiced in their own
calamity; of viewing the play-actors, much more "dissolute"
in the dissolving flame; of looking upon the charioteer, all
glowing in his chariot of fire; of beholding the wrestlers, not
in their gymnasia, but tossing in the fiery billows; unless even
then I shall not care to attend to such ministers of sin, in my
eager wish rather to fix a gaze insatiable on those whose fury
vented itself against the Lord. "This," I shall say, . .
"This is He whom you purchased from Judas! This is He
whom you struck with reed and fist, whom you contemptu
ously spat upon, to whom you gave gall and vinegar to drink!"
.... What quaestor or priest in his munificence2 will bestow
on you the favor of seeing and exulting in such things as these ?
' Alluding to the deification of deceased emperors.
* I. c, givers of public gladiatorial and theatrical shows.

TERTULLIAN 39
And yet even now we in a measure have them by faith in the
picturings of imagination.
There is much more of the joy of future triumph
than of Christian charity in this vivid picture; but
it shows us the strength of the hope in which Ter
tullian walked and did his strenuous work.
QUESTIONS
1. What were the general tendencies manifest in the
church at the close of the second century ?
2. Were they wholly an evil ?
3. What value was placed on the churches founded by
the apostles ? Why ?
4. What was the significance of Irenaeus ?
5. What reaction did Montanism represent? Why was
it natural ? Its exaggerations ?
6. What was Tertullian's career ?
7. What was Tertullian's significance in the development
of a Latin Christian literature? The characteristics of his
style ? His writings ?
8. What was Tertullian's conception of the relations of
Christianity to philosophy ?
9. How far should a Christian seek truth? Where can
he find it ?
10. What emphasis does Tertullian lay on sin and grace ?
11. What was the value attached to baptism in his day?
12. What two theories of the church were then in
contest ?
13. What was Tertullian's contribution to the doctrine of
the Trinity ?
14. How did he triumph over present ills in the hope of the
coming of Christ in judgment ?

40 GREAT MEN OF THE CHRISTIAN CHURCH
ADDITIONAL READING
F. W. Farrar, Lives of the Fathers (New York, 1889), I, 118-
84.
Philip Schaff, History of the Christian Church (New York,
1889), II, 818-34.
A. H. Newman, A Manual of Church History (Philadelphia,
1900), I, 257-65.

ATHANASIUS

Ill
ATHANASIUS
The epoch from the death of Tertullian to the rise
into prominence of Athanasius — practically a cen
tury — was one of tremendous changes in the Chris
tian church. It had to pass through the two greatest
persecutions which it experienced, that under Decius,
250, which was renewed from 257 to 260 by Valerian,
and that begun in 303 by Diocletian. These perse
cutions were what none had been before. They
were systematic, extensive, and persistent attempts to
crush out Christianity by men of principle who were
convinced that the evils from which the Empire suffered
were due to the refusal of Christians to worship the
old gods under whom these persecutors believed
that Rome had grown great. They involved many
martyrdoms. They led to thousands of denials of
the faith. When those who in their terror had ab
jured their faith sought readmission to the church,
great divisions arose as to the course to be pursued.
A considerable party, the Novatian at Rome after
the Decian persecution, and that of the Donatists in
Africa after that of Diocletian, would, in accordance
with the older rigor, bar them from the church; but
the majority in each instance favored their read-
mission, if repentant, and thus a second class of
43

44 GREAT MEN OF THE CHRISTIAN CHURCH
offenses was removed from the list of unforgivable
sins.1 In spite of these fearful trials, however, the church
grew mightily, especially as it was favored by almost
absolute peace between the persecutions. By the
close of the third century it was vastly more numer
ous than in the days of Tertullian. Moreover,
Christianity, in the third century, was extending
rapidly into the higher classes of society. It was
gaining intensively as well as extensively; at the
same time its exclusiveness was breaking down;
and it was, undoubtedly, making many compromises
with the world that the first or even the second
century would have rejected. Though average
Christian morality was less exacting, the ascetic life
was increasingly looked upon as the ideal, and a
double standard of Christian living was growing up
that was to have influence for centuries — in fact in
some branches of the church to the present day.
While the requirements binding on the ordinary
Christian were comparatively low, he who would
lead the holier life must be much more strenuous.
The way was thus preparing for demands upon the
clergy not required of the ordinary believer, and for
the rise of monasticism, the rapid spread of which
was to be such a feature of the fourth century. The
combined influence of heathen worship and of Old
1 The first was that of unchastity under Calixtus. See ante,
P- 35-

ATHANASIUS 45
Testament example had changed the conception of
the ministry into a priesthood; and, by the middle
of the third century, the Lord's Supper was looked
upon, well-nigh universally, as a sacrifice made by
the priest to God — the mass. It had become, at
least a century earlier than that, the central and
most sacred part of the service. By the middle of the
third century, also, the importance always attached
to the great churches of the capital cities, especially
those of apostolic association, was giving them a
metropolitan authority over their districts. This
was notably the case with Rome, Antioch, and Alex
andria, whose bishops were regarded as the chief
men in the Christian church. To such a writer as
Cyprian, bishop of Carthage from 248 or 249 to his
martyrdom in 258, salvation outside the visible
church is impossible, and that church is built on the
unity of its bishops, of whom the highest in honor is
the bishop of Rome. The church was thus a close-
knit, visible imperium in imperio.
During the third century, also, theology took on
a notable development, especially in the school of
Alexandria, under Clement of Alexandria, who
flourished in the last decade of the second century
and the first years of the third ; and especially under
his great pupil, Origen, who labored as a teacher
and even more as a writer from 203 to his death in
251. In Origen the oriental church had its greatest
theologian, and Christianity as a whole one of its pro-

46 GREAT MEN OF THE CHRISTIAN CHURCH
foundest interpreters. In absolute opposition to
Tertullian he viewed philosophy as a true guide in
the development and systematizing of the simple
elements of the popular creed which embodied the
Christian revelation ; and by its means he constructed
an immense edifice of speculation which profoundly
influenced subsequent thought and may be said to
have completed the union of Christian truth with the
best that the ancient Greek civilization had to offer
into one intellectually imposing system. It was a
marvelous interpretation of Christianity in the light
of the knowledge of that epoch ; but the process has
to be repeated with every advance of knowledge, and
Origen's work was so fully the creation of his own
age that its value is relatively slight for our own.
It dominated the theological thought of the oriental
church in the centuries that immediately succeeded
him, however; though the lesser men who followed
him were inclined to judge him more heretical than
orthodox. Greatest of all external changes in the fortunes
of Christianity were its recognition by the state, the
consequent cessation of all serious opposition and
the positive and powerful aid of the imperial govern
ment which came to it in the second decade of the
fourth century. The proportion of Christians to
the total population of the Empire is impossible
of estimation. They were very unequally distrib
uted in its various provinces. But in the central

ATHANASIUS 47
provinces which possessed political leadership the
church was undoubtedly very strong, and the perse
cution begun by Diocletian not only failed to crush
it, but showed by the popular apathy that the old
opposition to Christianity had largely vanished.
The church was a political force which a clever politi
cian, especially one in some degree of sympathy with
its principles, could use in a struggle to obtain mastery
of the Roman world. Such a far-sighted politician
was Constantine, and his victory over his rival
Maxentius, just outside of Rome in October, 312,
to which he had marched as a Christian champion,
and with soldiers bearing the symbol of the cross, was
followed at the beginning of 313 by the publication
at Milan, of a joint edict by Constantine and Licinius,
the ruler of a large part of the East and then Con-
stantine's supporter. By this edict universal tolera
tion was granted. It was no exclusive establishment
of Christianity, but it granted to Christians full
rights; and the hearty personal support which Chris
tians received from Constantine made Christianity
practically the most favored religion. By 324
Constantine was sole ruler of the Empire. His
legislation constantly favored the church, and its
numbers now grew enormously with the incoming,
not merely of genuine converts, but of that great
class which always desires to be on the winning side.
To Constantine' s statesman-like mind the support
of Christianity seems to have appeared the comple-

48 GREAT MEN OF THE CHRISTIAN CHURCH
tion of the great process of unification which had
been working for centuries in the Empire. It had
long had one law, one citizenship, and, in theory at
least, one ruler. It was but a further step in the
same direction that it should have one religion.
This unity was at once threatened by a serious
dispute in the church itself, the focus of which, was
Alexandria, the largest city of Egypt, though the
roots of the quarrel were ancient, and its ramifica
tions widespread. It had to do with the most funda
mental problem of Christianity — the nature of Christ
himself. The first disciples had recognized in Christ
a revelation of God, without asking much about his
relations to the Father. Matthew's Gospel records
his declaration that "no man knoweth the Son but
the Father; neither knoweth any man the Father
save the Son."1 The three earliest evangelists
show that His claim to forgive sins was regarded by
those who heard him as an exercise of divine author
ity." Luke shows that he held himself superior to
the most sacred parts of that Jewish law which his
contemporaries believed to be God-given.3 Paul
views prayer to Him as a universal Christian prac
tice.4 But the need of explanation of his divinity
was early felt; and the New Testament presents
three interpretations, not necessarily mutually exclu-
• Matt. 11:27.
2 Matt. 9:2, 3; Mark 2:5-7; Luke 5:20-24.
3 Luke 6:5. 4 I Cor. 1 : 2.

ATHANASIUS 49
sive, but still explanations of the how of the great
fact which the early disciples experienced — his en
dowment with the divine Spirit,1 his virgin birth,2
and his pre-existence.3 These were not philosophi
cal interpretations, however, and the second century
was busy with its speculations. .Gnosticism, as we
have seen, had its theories. In the church itself,
the "Logos" Christology, which looked upon Christ
as the personal embodiment of the divine activity
in the world, flowing out from God, one with him, yet
in some real sense distinct from the Father — the
"Word" — had the largest following. There were,
however, not a few in the second and third centuries
who rejected the Logos Christology, and were
called "Monarchians." Of these some insisted
that there was no real distinction between Christ
and the Father, and that the Father suffered on the
cross. Such was Sabellius, who flourished at Rome
from about 215, and taught that the Father, Son,
and Spirit were but various forms in which the one
God had manifested himself. Other Monarchians
viewed Christ simply as one peculiarly filled with the
Spirit of God, and hence Son of God by adop
tion. But, thanks to the work of Tertullian, of
Novatian at Rome (ca. 251), and of the Roman
bishop, Dionysius, (ca. 260), the Logos doctrine, and
1 E. g., Mark i:o-T2.
' E. g., Matt. 1 : 18-25; Luke 1 : 34, 35.
3 E. g., John 1: 1; Col. 1:15-17.

50 GREAT MEN OF THE CHRISTIAN CHURCH
the conception that Father, Son, and Spirit, while
one in substance, were yet distinct in person — a real
Trinity — won practically complete control of the
West. The East was not so united. It was far
deeper and more speculative in its thought than the
West, where the primary interests, as befitted the
Latin spirit, were practical.
But within the victorious Logos Christology it
was possible to hold at least two views as to Christ's
relations to the Father, and out of these the great con
troversy was to come. One of them was championed
by Arius, probably a Libian by birth, who had been
trained in Antioch, and who when he comes to prom
inence in the controversy was well on in years, and
in high repute as pastor of the church called Baucalis
in the Egyptian capital, Alexandria. To Arius'
thinking Christ is the highest of all created beings.
The chief of all creatures, he is still a creature; and,
as compared with God who made him, inferior,
limited, and secondary. Though God's agent in
creating the world, and therefore earlier than it,
he was not eternal. "There was when he was
not." In his birth on earth this secondary God
took to himself merely a human body, of which
he constituted the soul. Christ was, therefore,
to Arius, neither fully God nor perfect man,
but a being intermediate between the two. The
view was essentially polytheistic, and asserted
the existence of two Gods — one high, perfect,

ATHANASIUS 51
and remote, the other near, created, limited, and
inferior. These opinions were in opposition to those of
Arius' ecclesiastical superior, Alexander, bishop of.
Alexandria from 311 to 326, who represented the
other interpretation to which reference has been
made. How fully Alexander had worked out his
own views it is difficult to say; but it is plain that he
emphasized the unity of Christ with the Father.
Apparently Arius criticized his position publicly
about 318; and, about 320, Alexander called a
synod by which Arius was excommunicated. Far
from accepting this condemnation, Arius found
support, notably in Eusebius, bishop of Nicomedia,
the ablest politician in the eastern episcopate, and in
Palestine. The quarrel at once assumed large
proportions, and Constantine, whose political ideals
determined his religious policy, and whose prime
thought was unity in church and state, found him
self confronted by a bitter dispute in the church to
which he had so recently given freedom. After
trying in vain to bring Arius and Alexander to agree
ment through the agency of his ecclesiastical adviser,
Hosius, bishop of Cordova in Spain, the puzzled
emperor now called the first general council of the
church to meet in Nicaea, near Constantinople, in
May, 325- Local synods had been frequently held
since the Montanist dispute raged in Asia Minor in
the latter half of the second century; but now for

52 GREAT MEN OF THE CHRISTIAN CHURCH
the first time the whole church was invited — and
invited by the head of the Roman Empire — to send
its bishops for deliberation. About three hundred
answered the call. Entertained at imperial expense,
and enjoying the presence and largely the guidance
of the emperor himself, it was indeed a splendid
gathering, and it has lived in tradition as the most
sacred of all the councils of the church.
Though professedly a deliberative body, the
council was largely determined in its action by the
emperor, probably less by his direct intervention,
though that was exercised, than by the natural
glamor of his presence in a body representative of
a church which had so recently come forth from
persecution largely through his aid. Constantine's
policy was simple. He was no expert theologian.
He wished peace and unity. He saw that the
majority of the council, which was almost wholly
from the eastern portion of the Empire, were un
learned men who had no definite convictions on the
more difficult aspects of the question at issue, and
therefore would be swayed by one or the other of the
parties to which the question was vital, that of Arius
and Eusebius of Nicomedia, or that of Alexander.
His own training in the western portion of the
Empire, and the views of his trusted friend, Bishop
Hosius of Cordova, inclined him to the side of Alex
ander, which accorded with the feeling of the West
generally. Constantine threw the weight of his

ATHANASIUS 53
influence against Arius, who was promptly con
demned. The creed of the church of Caesarea in
Palestine was adopted with the insertion of the anti-
Arian declarations that Christ is "of the substance
of the Father," "begotten not made, of one sub
stance (ofjioova-iov) with the Father." The Greek
word just quoted became henceforth the battle-flag
of the Nicene faith. The powerful influence of
Constantine, coupled with threats of banishment,
secured the signatures of all bishops save two; and
the council dissolved, having, it was believed, given
the desired peace to the church.
The majority at Nicaea had, however, been sur
prised and led rather than convinced. The real
battle was after rather than at the council. The
council was brief, the battle lasted more than half
a century. Its hero was Athanasius, to whose
efforts the permanent victory of the Nicene faith
was primarily due. Born, probably in Alexandria,
about 293, he became a deacon under Bishop Alex
ander, and that prelate's hearty supporter, possibly
his amanuensis. He was present in Nicaea during
the council, though of course, being not yet a bishop,
he was not one of its official members. While his
influence there, such as it was, was exercised in favor
of the result reached, it was in no sense a deciding
factor. But, with Athanasius' promotion to the
see of Alexandria on the death of Alexander, in 326,
his leadership became incontestible, and till his own

54 GREAT MEN OF THE CHRISTIAN CHURCH
demise, in 373, he was the foremost figure in the
struggle. A thinker of clearness, rather than an
original theologian, he adopted the Nicene decision
as his own and was admirably fitted to represent a
great party. His enthusiasm, his steadfastness of
purpose, his unbending and high-minded resolution
to yield nothing, made him the commanding leader
of his century and a permanent force in the history
of Christian thought.
Athanasius' impulse was far more religious than
philosophical. To his thinking, Christ is the full
manifestation of the one God, eternal, subordinate
in office to the Father, yet forever one with him in
nature. In the incarnation the one God was united
with a perfect and complete manhood, so that Christ
is at the same time fully God and fully man. There
is no far-off God, remote from the world which he
has made, but God himself has revealed himself in
the incarnation to men.
These may seem remote matters of speculation;
but in the existent state of Christian thought they
were not. The ancient world was in real danger of
putting God a great way off, of so emphasizing his
transcendence as to separate him by a vast gulf from
his creatures. That Arius did; and with many the
Logos Christology, which makes Christ a divine
agent of the one God, had that effect in spite of its
assertion of Christ's divine character. To Athana
sius the "Son" rather than the Logos or "Word"

ATHANASIUS 55
was always Christ's chief title. Only as God is
shown to be active, sympathizing with man's need,
sacrificing himself for man's sins, really uniting men
to himself, present in his world, is a real salvation
possible. So Athanasius conceived the matter; and
he was right, however completely our modern age
has discarded the philosophic garb of that time in
which he clothed his thoughts. His fundamental
contention is forever true. No intermediate being,
however gifted, could really reveal God to men or
effect that reconciliation and union of men with
God by which alone salvation is possible.
Athanasius entered on his bishopric in 326.
There was need for his firmness at once. The de
feated party at Nicaea had an able leader in the
politically skilful Eusebius of Nicomedia, who soon
won favor with Constantine. To many of those who
had belonged to the great undecided middle body
of the council the result arrived at in Nicaea seemed
one-sided and Sabellian. A reaction soon set in.
By Eusebius' maneuvers the emperor was persuaded
that Arius was not as bad as he had been painted.
Constantine did not in any way become an Arian;
but Arius now laid before him a brief and vague
confession of faith that seemed to the untheological
mind of the emperor not only orthodox but indicative
of a willingness to end the dispute. What seemed
enough to the emperor, Constantine naturally thought
ought to satisfy Athanasius; and as Athanasius still

56 GREAT MEN OF THE CHRISTIAN CHURCH
opposed Arius' restoration, Constantine was at last
persuaded by Eusebius of Nicomedia, though with
difficulty, that, after all, Athanasius' obstinacy, and
the tyranny with which he was falsely charged, were
the roots of the quarrel, and that a period of exile
would bring him to terms. So Constantine banished
Athanasius to Trier, in Germany, late in 335; and
so successful were Arius' friends that he was about
to be restored to the church when he died in 336.
Constantine's own demise, in 337, found Athana
sius still in exile, and that death brought a marked
strengthening of the anti-Athanasian party. The
great emperor had tried in an unsuccessful way to
make peace. Of his sons, Constantius, who received
the eastern portion of the Empire, was under the
influence of Eusebius of Nicomedia, whom he made
bishop of his capital, Constantinople, in 338. To
Constantine II and to Constans came the rulership
of the West, which the death of Constantine II, in
340, soon placed wholly in Constans' hands. Unlike
his brother, Constantius, Constans favored Athana
sius, and, like the region of which he was the ruler,
supported the Nicene decision. The reign of the
three emperors was begun, however, by the recall of
all who had been banished by Constantine, and thus,
before the end of 337, Athanasius was once more in
friendly Alexandria. His peace was not long undis
turbed, however. Early in 339, a synod of his
enemies at Antioch ordered his deposition. He

ATHANASIUS 57
was driven by force from Alexandria, and fled to
Rome, a new bishop was put in his place, and his
second exile, which was to last till October, 346, was
begun. Then followed a period of great interest, not merely
in the life of Athanasius, but of high importance in
the development of the papacy as well as in the
progress of the Nicene struggle. Both the Eusebian
party and Athanasius appealed to Bishop Julius of
Rome (337-52), an exceedingly skilful and states
man-like pontiff, who saw in the situation an oppor
tunity not merely to aid the side which he believed
right but to advance papal authority. By Julius,
Athanasius was heartily welcomed and declared
orthodox. The situation between Rome and Con
stantinople was strained in the extreme; but now
the emperor Constans, largely at the insistence of
the aged Hosius of Cordova, persuaded his brother
Constantius to join with him in the summons of a
new designedly general council, to meet in 343 at
Sardica, now Sofia in Bulgaria. On its assembly
it was evident that the western bishops, in sym
pathy with Nicene views, were in the majority, and
the Eusebian party therefore withdrew in anger
because Athanasius and his friends who were present
were received in fellowship by that majority. On
the departure of the Eusebians, the remaining
bishops pronounced in favor of Athanasius, and, in a
famous series of rules, authorized the Bishop of

58 GREAT MEN OF THE CHRISTIAN CHURCH
Rome, when appealed to by bishops who deemed
themselves unjustly deposed, to examine into the
cases and cause them to be reopened. This was of
course a party decision, unrecognized by the Euse
bians, and favorable to Athanasius and his friends;
but it became a precedent for many later papal
claims. Unfavorable as the situation seemed, a change
came in Athanasius' favor, when, in 346, Constantius,
moved by Constans' urgency, recalled him to Alex
andria. The second exile was ended, and for ten
years Athanasius was in possession of his bishopric.
But his hardest trial was yet to come. The death of
the friendly Constans in 350 left Constantius sole
master of the Roman world, and with his exclusive
rulership the anti-Nicene party which he favored was
of course strengthened. By 355 the emperor and
his ecclesiastical friends were so dominant in the
West that at a great synod held in Milan in Italy
Athanasius and his supporters were condemned
by the western bishops there gathered; and those
who then or soon after opposed this forced decision,
like Bishop Liberius of Rome and other leaders of
the West, were sent into exile. Soldiers were em
ployed to seize Athanasius in Alexandria. He
escaped with difficulty in February, 356, but he was
now an Egyptian national hero, and in this third
exile (356-62) found protection in defiance of the
imperial power in the deserts of his native land.

ATHANASIUS 59
Much of this protection came from the monks, for
monasticism was growing rapidly in Egypt, and
found in Athanasius its first eager supporter in high
ecclesiastical position^ and its earnest advocate.
The defeat of the Nicene party, of which Athana
sius was the head, seemed now complete; but the
anti-Nicene opposition was made up of very diverse
elements, and with its victory it divided into factions.
The old middle party of Eusebius, who had died in
341, now developed a conservative wing that, while
not ready to say with the Nicene creed that Christ
was of one substance with the Father, would yet
approach it far enough to declare that they were of
the same attributes (o/ioiovo-iov) . Its radical wing,
on the other hand, asserted the old Arian position
that Christ was of other substance than the Father.
Constantius tried to compromise by rejecting all
forms of the word "substance" as unscriptural, and
holding that Christ is "like" the Father, "in all
things as the Scriptures teach," which was really
avoiding the questions at issue; but the result was
that the Athanasians and the conservative Eusebians
came constantly nearer together, and the Athana-
sian cause was greatly strengthened by these divi
sions of its opponents.
In 361 the emperor Constantius died, and was
succeeded by the last heathen that sat on the Roman
throne, Julian, misnamed "the Apostate." Anxious
to aid heathenism by increasing the quarrels of

60 GREAT MEN OF THE CHRISTIAN CHURCH
Christians, Julian called home all banished bishops;
and in 362, Athanasius was once more in Alexandria.
But before the year was out, angered by Athanasius'
opposition to heathenism, Julian sent him into his
fourth exile, which lasted this time till 364, and was
spent, as his third had been, under the protection of
his Egyptian sympathizers.
On Julian's early death in 363, Christian emperors
succeeded, though till the advent of Theodosius, in
379, they were, like Constantius, anti-Nicene in
sympathies. But Athanasius' party constantly grew,
aided as it was by powerful men of a younger genera
tion, notably Basil the Great, Gregory of Nyssa, and
Gregory of Nazianzen. A fifth exile came to the
aged Athanasius for a few weeks, late in 365, when
the emperor Valens banished all bishops whom
Constantius had driven from their sees. But from
366 to his death on May 7, 373, at the age of about
eighty, Athanasius remained in quiet possession of
the bishopric which he had so long held, and from
which he had been so often expelled. The full
triumph of his cause he did not live to see. That
was not to come till the Spanish-born emperor
Theodosius put all the weight of imperial politics
as firmly and as ruthlessly on the Nicene side, as
ever Constantius had supported its opponents.
But even his power could not have won the ground
permanently for the Nicene cause had it not been
for the long work of Athanasius. The courage,

ATHANASIUS 61
persistence, and conviction with which he had fought
his battle won victory in the end. Whether Athana
sius' spirit was always that of his Lord may well
be doubted, but none can question his heroism, or
the depth of the religious conviction which animated
him in the long struggle. It is no less evident that
the interference of the Christian emperors was a
source of great evil to the church. In the existing
state of the Empire that interference was unavoid
able, but it made every theological question a political
problem, it led to the use of very carnal weapons
of controversy, and it turned Christian interest
largely from matters of life and conduct to bitter
wranglings over points of doctrine. Yet in the large
retrospect we may be grateful that Athanasius did
his work so well, and that the outcome of the struggle
was what it was. QUESTIONS
i. When were the great persecutions and what problems
did they raise ?
2. What changes in the conceptions of Christian life and
worship took place in the third century ?
3. Who was Origen and what was his significance ?
4. How did Constantine come to embrace Christianity
and what was the effect of his conversion ?
5. With what great dispute was Constantine confronted ?
6. What were some of the views regarding Christ's rela
tion to the Father which had been previously held in the
church ?
7. Who was Arius, and what were his views ?

62 GREAT MEN OF THE CHRISTIAN CHURCH
8. How did Arius and Alexander of Alexandria differ ?
9. What was the occasion and significance of the Council
of Nicaea ? Did it end the dispute ?
10. What was the early history of Athanasius ? Why did
the controversy seem to him of great religious significance ?
n. How did Eusebius of Nicomedia regard the result
at Nicaea ? What was the position and what the influence of
the emperor Constantius ?
12. How many times was Athanasius exiled? Some of
the circumstances ?
13. What was the significance of the Council of Sardica ?
14. What was the outcome of the Nicene struggle? In
how far and how did Athanasius contribute to the result?
ADDITIONAL READING
F. W. Farrar, Lives of the Fathers (New York, 1889), I, 331-
425-
Philip Schaff, History of the Christian Church (New York,
1884), III, 616-88, 884-93.
H. M. Gwatkin, The Arian Controversy (New York, no date)
("Epochs of Church History" Series).

AUGUSTINE

IV
AUGUSTINE
The contests in which Athanasius was engaged,
though arousing interest in the western portions of
the Empire, and involving its leaders, were primarily
eastern. The western mind was more practical, the
eastern more speculative. In the East the discus
sions begun regarding the person of Christ long con
tinued. The .Nicene view of divinity united to
humanity was everywhere accepted; but, granted
ithat, the further question arose as to how the divine
jand the human were joined in Christ's person. As
I the result of the discussion of this problem in em
bittered quarrels, it was decreed by the Council
in Chalcedon, near Constantinople, in 451, that
Christ is "known in two natures, without confusion,
without conversion, without severance, and without
division," that is, that in the one person of Our
Lord two complete natures, one human, the other
divine, are united. Curiously enough, though inter
est in the debate was primarily eastern, the words of
the Chalcedonian decision were borrowed almost
wholly from a letter of the greatest of the early
Roman bishops, Leo I (440-61).
With this decision the East exhausted about all
that it had to contribute to the development of
65

66 GREAT MEN OF THE CHRISTIAN CHURCH
Christian doctrine. That this was the case was
largely due to its conception of the nature of sjilyation^
'As already pointed out in speaking of Irenaeus,1 it
viewed fallen man as having lost his unity with God,
and as hence incapable of a joyful immortality.
Only by the union of God with men was a true im
mortality possible for the Christian. Hence the
stress which the East laid on the real union of God
and man in Christ. Only by that union was spiritual
death overcome and life and happy immortality
brought to light. Emphasizing thus the victory
over death as the prime thing in salvation, the East
had little sense of sin and of its consequent guilt.
The question of how guilty men might be made
right with God had comparatively little interest for
the East. Its problem was how mortal men might
be made immortal.
To the western mind the problem of guilt was the
more pressing. Its prime interest was how sinful
men could be made righteous, and the consequences
of their sins overcome. Hence the West showed an
interest, never developed in the East, in the nature
of man and the way of his reconciliation with God.
This enabled the West to make a real advance in
theology over the East, and gave its thinking a prac
tical value, consonant with the legal and practical,
but relatively unspeculative, western mind. It has
its highest illustration in the greatest of western
1 Ante, p. 26.

AUGUSTINE 67
theologians — probably the greatest theologian of all
the early church — Augustine.
Of all the leaders of the ancient church, we know
Augustine most fully. Thanks to the facts recorded
in his writings, especially in his Confessions and
Retractions, and to a Life written by his intimate
friend, Bishop Possidius of Calama, we are able to
follow his spiritual development and his contro
versies in all their phases, to know the circumstances
of his conversion, and to appreciate his relations to
his age. We can give the exact dates of his birth
and death — a definiteness of knowledge not to be at
tained regarding any other great character of the early
church. We can follow most of his experiences and
become acquainted with his friends and opponents.
Augustine was born on November 13, 354, under
the reign of Constantius, in Tagaste, a little town in
what was' then the flourishing North African province
of Numidia, in the region now known as Algeria.
His father, Patricius, was an easy-going heathen of
good position, but small property; his mother,
Monnica^ a Christian of eager ambition for her son,
who had the highest reverence for her, although she
was in his younger years of rather external and
superficial piety. As he was a boy of promise, the
family, in spite of its limited resources, was deter
mined to give Augustine the best education that the
time afforded, and, accordingly, he was sent to school
first in the neighbormgJSladaura, and then in the

68 GREAT MEN OF THE CHRISTIAN CHURCH
North African capital, Carthage, where Tertullian
and Cyprian had labored. Here, in Carthage, if
not earlier, he gave way to the sensual temptations
which the age and heathen traditions pressed upon
him; but though he paints his lapses in the most
abhorrent colors in the pitiless self-condemnation of
the Confessions, they did not wholly dominate him,
and he acquired repute as a brilliant and earnest
student. Here at Carthage, when about seventeen,
he entered into a kind of partial marriage — a rela
tion of concubinage then legal and not wholly con
demned by the church, but severable at will — to
which he remained faithful for the next fifteen years,
and from which a son, Adeodatus, to whom he was
devoted, was early born. Undoubtedly, however,
sensuality was the form of temptation to which the
youthful Augustine felt himself most exposed, and
this defiling experience colored his later conceptions
of the nature of sin, and marked the depth of the
degradation from which he felt himself rescued by
divine grace.
His higher nature, however, constantly asserted
itself. A lost treatise of Cicero, the Hortensius,
'which came into his hands when in his nineteenth/
year, convinced him intellectually that truth must be!
the object of his search — a determination that was
thenceforth masterful in his life. But the old temp
tations still assailed, and like Paul,1 though in a
' Romans 7 : 14-24.

AUGUSTINE 69
different way, he felt that two natures, a higher
and a lower, were struggling in him with varying
success for the mastery. In this contest he turned
to the Bible; but as yet it did not speak to his heart.
To the rhetorical taste of the young student its style
seemed barbarous, and he now revolted from Chris
tianity of which he had been thus far nominally an
adherent. The form of faith to which Augustine now turned
was Manichaeanism, then widespread, in spite of
persecution, In the Roman Empire, and one pecu
liarly appealing to a man like Augustine, who felt
two tendencies at warfare within him. Mani, its
founder, had taught in Persia, and had there met a
martyr's death by crucifixion in 276 or 277. His
system combined Zoroastrian, Hindu, Gnostic, and
Christian elements; the fundamental basis being
the thought that the universe is the scene of the
eternal conflict of two powers, the one good, the other
evil. Man, as we know him, is a mixed product,
the spiritual part of his nature being made of the
good element, the physical of the evil. His task is
therefore to free the good in him from the evil; and
this can be accomplished by prayer, but especially
by abstinence from all the enjoyments of evil, riches,
lust, wine, meats, handsome houses, and the like.
The true spiritual Jesus, as with the Gnostics, had
no material body, and died no real death. His
purpose was to teach men the way from the kingdom

70 GREAT MEN OF THE CHRISTIAN CHUKCti
of darkness to that of light. Like the Gnostics, the
Manichaeans held that much of the New Testament
is true, but they rejected all in it that seemed to
imply Christ's real sufferings, and they discarded the
Old Testament altogether. Their adherents were
/divided into two classes, the "perfect," who lived a
strict fife of ascetic self-denial, and the "hearers,"
I who were still allowed to marry, to trade, and in
many ways to conform to the world.
Augustine remained an eager Manichaean for nine
years, from 374 to 383; but dissatisfaction with
its teachings at last arose in his mind, especially
under the influence of the most spiritual of the
philosophical systems of the ancient world, that of
-neo-Platonism. As a Manichaean, however, he
taught grammar in his native Tagaste, and rhetoric
in Carthage, and though inwardly doubting the
truth of this system, it was at the suggestion of
Manichaean friends, that he removed to Rome in
383. Not long after his arrival in the capital he
secured from the prefect, Symmachus, a professor
ship in the State University in Milan (384); and
thither he was followed by his widowed mother,
and some of his African friends, for his was always
an attractive personality. He was now thirty years
old, in established position in life, and with every
prospect of worldly success; but he was more than
ever deeply dissatisfied with his life. He separated
from his faithful concubine that he might become

AUGUSTINE 71
betrothed to a young woman of wealth and posi
tion; but he could not master his sensual nature, and
the conflict became increasingly distressing to him.
With his residence in Milan, however, he came un
der the powerful preaching of Ambrose, whom he
first heard as an illustration of pulpit eloquence, but
whose message soon impressed his soul, and un
doubtedly developed into noble fruitage his mother's
spiritual life.
Ambrose was one of the most remarkable men of
the age. The son of a high officer of the government,
and himself destined for political life, he came to
Milan as governor of northern Italy, probably in 373,
and the next year, in spite of his want even of baptism,
was chosen by the people of the city as their bishop.
From the first he looked upon the call as that of God.
I No greater administrator, no more effective preacher,
no more devoted pastor than he was to be found in
that age. He dared to rebuke the great emperor,
Theodosius, when that ruler sinned, yet with such
evident honesty of purpose as not merely to bring
the imperial offender to repentance but to secure his
lasting friendship. To be brought in contact with
such a man as Ambrose was of immense value to the
inwardly distressed Augustine.
Yet the immediate occasion of Augustine's con
version seems to have been, as so often in Christian
history, personal example. He consulted Simpli-
cianus, a friend of Ambrose, who told him of the

72 GREAT MEN OF THE CHRISTIAN CHURCH
religious transformation of the rhetorician, Vic-
torinus, by whose writings Augustine had been
introduced to neo-Platonism. A fellow-African,
Pontitianus, described the life of the Egyptian monks
with its rejection of the temptations of the world.
Augustine felt a burning sense of shame that these
unlearned men could win spiritual battles in which
he, with all his education, felt only defeat. His
sense of sin and of his own powerlessness was pro
foundly stirred; and, as he walked in agony in his
garden, he heard a child's voice saying, "Take and
read." Instantly he picked up a New Testament,
and the words on which his eyes fell were suited
perhaps above all others to his mood : " Not in rioting
and drunkenness, not in chambering and wantonness,
not in strife and envying; but put ye on the Lord
Jesus Christ, and make not provision for the flesh
to fulfil the lusts thereof."1 As Augustine himself
recorded, "Instantly, as I reached the end of this
sentence, it was as if the light of peace was poured
into my heart, and all the shades of doubt faded
away."2 On the eve of the following Easter, 387, Augus
tine, with his son, Adeodatus, and his friend, Alypius,
was baptized by Ambrose in Milan. A few months
later he set out for Africa, but on the journey his
mother died in Ostia, and the narrative of her con-
1 Romans 13 : 13, 14.
3 Confessions, Book VIII, chap. xii.

AUGUSTINE 73
versations and her death, as recorded by Augustine,
is one of the noblest monuments of Christian experi
ence.1 By the autumn of 388, he was once more
settled in Tagaste, and about this time the death of
his son added to the grief already experienced in the
loss of his mother. Of his experiences till his
mother's death he wrote, between 397 and 400, a
most remarkable description in his Confessions —
an unsurpassed spiritual autobiography, in which he
endeavored to show the greatness of the divine work
by which he had been rescued from his sins and
made one of the children of God.
Augustine had been greatly impressed, in con
nection with his conversion, with monasticism, and
an opportunity came to him in 391 to share in found
ing a monastic establishment in Hippo, now Bona —
a monastery that was not merely the first in that part
of Africa, but served also as a ministerial training
school. Here in Hippo, in 391, by popular insistence
and against his will, Augustine was ordained a priest;
and, in 395, on the wish of Bishop Valerius, he was
chosen assistant bishop of that see. When he suc
ceeded to the full bishopric of Hippo is unknown, but
for thirty-five years, till his death on August 28, 430,
during the siege of the city by the Vandals, he was
practically its ecclesiastical head. As an administra
tor he was distinguished for his simplicity in food
and dress, his encouragement of good morals and
1 Ibid., Book IX, chaps, x and xi.

74 GREAT MEN OF THE CHRISTIAN CHURCH
education among the clergy, his advocacy of mo
nasticism, and his abilities as a preacher. But his
fame as a theologian was now widespread throughout
the Empire, and was to be his most eminent claim to
remembrance. Augustine's abundant discussion touched most of
the aspects of the theology and philosophy of his age.
Beyond any other teacher of the ancient church, sub
sequent to the apostolic age, he influenced the religious
thought of western Christendom not merely through
out the Middle Ages but even more powerfully at the
Reformation when his conceptions of Christian truth
largely determined the form in which the theology of
that great revolt was cast. There were two distinct,
and to some extent irreconcilable, aspects to his think
ing, however, so that if he is the spiritual father of
Protestant theology, the characteristic contentions of
mediaeval Catholicism could also find in him their
most powerful exponent. If his doctrines of grace,
of sin, and of predestination largely furnished the
ammunition of the reformers, his conceptions of the
church, of the sacraments, and of monasticism were
no less influential upon their Roman predecessors
and opponents.
Augustine's chief contests were with his old asso
ciates the Manichaeans (388-405) ; against the Dona-
tists, who, starting as a protest against easy treatment
of those who had been unfaithful in the Diocletian
persecution, divided all North Africa into warring

AUGUSTINE 75
factions, alike in all other beliefs, but each declaring
the other no true church (393-420) ; against the Pela
gians, of whom more will be said (412-428); and
against the Arians, especially in his treatise on the
Trinity of about 416. But as it is impossible to de
scribe these contests in any detail in the space at
command, but three important aspects of Augustine's
thought will now be mentioned as illustrative of his
profound influence on his own and subsequent ages.
Augustine worked out his doctrine of the church
largely in his disputes with the Donatists. Ortho
dox as they were in belief, yet opposing the church
of the Empire, he had to show to his own satisfaction
that they were not a part of the true church. That
only is the church, he held, which has faith, hope, and
love; but love can only be the possession of the one
visible and universal church. Hence not only could
there be no real church but the one Catholic body;
there is no salvation outside of it, for without all the
three Christian virtues of faith, hope, and love none
can be saved. The bonds which unite the church,
the signs which distinguish it visibly, are the sacra
ments, which, though possessed by others, are of value
only in the one Catholic church to which alone the
name church rightly belongs. To the divine opera
tion of the sacraments and the grace conferred by the
Holy Spirit through them, the holiness of the church
is due; and they are divinely placed in the charge of
the properly ordained clergy. Hence the clergy are

76 GREAT MEN OF THE CHRISTIAN CHURCH
the indispensable element in the membership of the
church. Yet while Augustine thus advocated views of
the church which were to come to full development in
mediaeval Roman Catholicism, his own conception of
its membership or of the sacraments was not always
clear. The bestowment of grace is not inseparably
bound to the reception of the sacraments. He spoke
of the visible church sometimes as a mixed company
of good and bad ; but he sometimes, also, approached
the definition of the church as really the good only,
whom God alone can distinguish in the visible body on
earth — that is, he was not far at times from that con
ception of the invisible church as the only true church
which was to spring into such power at the Reformation.
Augustine's conceptions of sin and grace grew
largely out of his own experience, and were developed
jin their leading features before the Pelagian contro
versy, though that discussion brought them to full
expression. The Apologists like Justin Martyr had
emphasized man's freedom to do right or wrong, and
that conception had prevailed, especially in the
Greek-speaking portion of the church. Pelagius, a
British, or less probably an Irish, monk, who had"
lived long in Rome, carried these thoughts to sharper
expression. He denied that sin is inherited from
Adam. Man still has freedom by nature to act
righteously or sinfully. Nor is death a consequence
of Adam's transgression. Adam, indeed, introduced
sin into the world, his corrupting example spread it

AUGUSTINE 77
to his posterity. Almost all the human race have
sinned ; but it is possible not to sin, and some have
not. God predestinates none, save in the sense that
he foresees who will believe and who will reject his
gracious influences. His forgiveness comes to all
who exercise "faith alone;" and it is interesting to
note that no one between Paul and Luther so empha
sized "faith alone" as the condition of salvation as
did Pelagius. But, once forgiven, man has power
of himself to live a life pleasing to God, and Pelagius
makes relatively little of the aid of the Holy Spirit.
His ideal of the Christian life is rather the Stoic con
ception of ascetic self-control :
All this was contrary to the views which Augus
tine's experience had wrought in him. His sense of
the depth of his sin was profound, and hence his con
ception of the greatness of salvation needed was cor
respondingly exalted. He felt that nothing less than
irresistible divine power could have saved him from
the slough of sin in which he was till his conversion,
and only constantly inflowing divine grace could
keep him in the Christian life, the essence of which is
not Stoic self-control, but love for righteousness in
fused by the constant work of the Spirit of God.
As Augustine studied the Scriptures, especially the
Pauline epistles, he believed his experience confirmed.
In Augustine's view all that God has made is in
itself good. The first man, Adam, was created a
holy, happy, and harmoniously constituted being.

78 GREAT MEN OF THE CHRISTIAN CHURCH
He had the possibility of not sinning, and, had he
refused to sin, the practice of righteousness would
have become a habit, and the possibility of not sin
ning would have become a moral impossibility to
sin. Instead, Adam, who had free will, sinned, and
ruin was the result. The harmony which kept the
body subject to the soul was broken. The body
asserted itself in passions, of which, to Augustine's
thinking, the most characteristic is lust. His mental
faculties were clouded. His vision of God lost.
His power to do right gone. In a word, Adam died,
spiritually; and soon physically. But he was not
alone in his ruin. On the basis of a mistranslation
of Romans 5:12, Augustine taught that all the race
was in Adam and shared his fall. It all became a
"mass of corruption," incapable of itself of any good
act, and deserving, in each of its members from
earliest infancy to old age, nothing but damnation.
Since man can now do nothing good himself, all
impulse or power to do good must be the free gift of
God, must be, that is, a "grace." Out of the mass
of the fallen race God chooses some to receive grace,
which comes to them from the work of Christ,
through the church, and especially through its sacra
ments. All who receive baptism receive regenerat
ing grace. Such grace is irresistible. It gives man
back his freedom to serve God, though that service
is imperfect even in the best, and is maintained only
by the constant incoming of divine aid. Those to

AUGUSTINE 79
whom God does not send his grace are lost. Nor
can any man be sure, even if he now enjoys God's
grace,. that he will be saved. Only he to whom God
gives the added grace of perseverance, that is, who
has divine aid to the end of his life, will be redeemed.
Man, therefore, has no power or worthiness of him
self; all his salvation is of God. The principal effect
of grace, according to Augustine, is not, however,
forgiveness of sins, though that is one of its conse
quences, but the building-up of a righteous character,
through the infusion of love by the Holy Spirit. That
character God rewards. He treats it as meritorious
in us, though its creation is wholly his work.
About 410 Pelagius, with his disciple, Caelestius,
came from Rome to North Africa. There Caeles
tius tried to secure ordination as a priest; but was
rejected and his views condemned at a synod in
Carthage, at which Augustine was not present, in
411. He then went to the East, whither Pelagius
had preceded him, and where they had a fairly
friendly reception. Augustine now came forth as
their opponent in a strenuous literary warfare,
reinforced by the efforts of his friends with other
weapons. In 416 Pelagius was condemned by
African synods in Carthage and Mileve, and Pope
Innocent I approved the decision. His successor,
Zosimus, at first looked leniently on Pelagius and
Caelestius, but a general rallying of the Augustinian
forces led to a change of view, and by the spring

80 GREAT MEN OF THE CHRISTIAN CHURCH
of 418, Zosimus was on Augustine's side. In 419
the Pelagians were banished by the emperor,
Honorius, and, in 431, Pelagianism was con
demned by the General Council of the church
in Ephesus. Thus Augustine's view triumphed
officially; but there have never been wanting many
who have held essentially the position of Pelagius.
It is easy to see, however, that, though Augustine
bound the reception of "grace" to membership in
the visible church, his doctrine that God chooses
whom he will and gives them power to serve him,
makes salvation a matter between God .and the in
dividual soul, and was, therefore, a doctrine capable
of becoming, as at the Reformation, a tower of
strength to those who denied that any body of men,
of whatever claims to be a church, could come be
tween the soul and its Maker.
. Aihird. characteristic of Augustine, of far-reach
ing influence, was his mysticism, or perhaps it is
better to say his spiritual-mindedness. To him God
is the end and object of man's love, and even of man's
existence. "Thou has formed us for thyself, and
our hearts are restless till they find rest in thee," he
exclaims in his Confessions.1 But the world he views
no less from a spiritual standpoint. The time in
which he lived was peculiarly an age of apparent
ruin. The Roman Empire was visibly collapsing.
Rome itself was captured by the Goths in 410. And
1 Book I, chap. i.

AUGUSTINE 81
the remaining heathen were not tardy with their
shallow explanation of this apparent downfall of
civilization. When Rome worshiped the old gods,
they said, it conquered the world. Now Christianity
has turned men away from the deities to whom Rome
owed her strength, and the barbarians plunder the
city itself. To these criticisms, and to the fears of the
Christians themselves, Augustine replied in his noble
City of God, or more truly "Kingdom of God," writ
ten between 412 and 426, and presenting his spiritual
philosophy of history. Two kingdoms, one that of
God, the other that of the world, have existed always
side by side. The former owes its life to the grace
of God, the latter is necessitated by man's sin. The
one is spiritual, the other temporal. While sin exists
the temporal kingdom has its use in repressing crime
and maintaining peace; but as the spiritual kingdom
grows the temporal must diminish. The highest
illustration of the kingdom of the world was the
empire of heathen Rome, but its passing is no evil.
On the contrary, it must decline that the Kingdom
of God may more and more come. The grandeur
of this spiritual vision made the City of God the most
beloved of Augustine's works throughout the early
Middle Ages. It gave a spiritual interpretation to
the woes from which the world suffered. The pres
ent might be bad, but better is to come. The golden
age — the Kingdom of God — is in the future, not in
the fading splendors of a worldly kingdom that could

82 GREAT MEN OF THE CHRISTDAN CHURCH
but be temporal. Yet, as Augustine practically iden
tified the Kingdom of God with the visible church, his
doctrine greatly aided the growth of the conception
that the church should rule the state which the medi
aeval papacy was to carry to such heights.
The modern world has departed in many respects
from Augustine, but no man since the apostolic age
has been more influential as a Christian example or
as a Christian thinker than he.
QUESTIONS
i. How did eastern and western Christianity differ in
intellectual tendencies ?
2. How is our knowledge of Augustine greater than our
acquaintance with most of the leaders of the early church ?
3. Describe Augustine's early life, his temptations, and his
ideals. 4. What was Manichaeanism ? Why did Augustine become
a Manichaean ? How long was he one ?
5. Who was Ambrose?
6. Give an account of Augustine's conversion. Its central
experience ?
7. Outline Augustine's later life.
8. What was the extent of Augustine's influence as a leader
of Christian thought ? What were his chief controversies ?
9. What was Augustine's view of the church ? Its defects ?
Its influence on mediaeval Roman Catholicism ?
10. What influence had Augustine's experience on his views
of sin and grace ?
11. Who was Pelagius and what was his theory of sin and
salvation? What importance did he attach to justification
by faith alone ?
12. What was Augustine's view of the origin of sin? Of

AUGUSTINE 83
the relation of men to Adam ? Of the extent of human sin
fulness ?
13. Who, according to Augustine, are saved, and how are
they saved ? What importance had his views in the Reforma
tion age ?
14. What influence had Augustine's mysticism? His
theory of history as set forth in his City of God ? Its occasion
and influence ?
ADDITIONAL READING
F. W. Farrar, Lives of the Fathers (New York, 1889), II, 298-
459-
Philip Schaff, History of the Christian Church (New York,
1884), III, 783-870, 988-1028.
Joseph McCabe, St. Augustine and His Age (New York,
i9°3)-

PATRICK

V
PATRICK
The Christian leaders thus far considered labored
in the populous cities of the Roman Empire. Rome,
Alexandria, Carthage — all centers of government, of
education, and of culture — were the scenes of a large
part at least of their activities. Patrick's chief work
was beyond the bounds of the Roman state, in an
age when the institutions of civilization seemed col
lapsing, among a rude people, and on the remote
frontiers of the then known world. The men who
have attracted our attention were all of conspicuous
scholarship, who moved their own time and after-age's
by what they wrote. Patrick was by his own declara
tion uneducated. But two brief writings of his com
position have survived. They are not treatises on
deep problems of the Christian faith. He could not
have discussed such matters had he wished. He left
only a crudely written account of what God hai'
wrought through him (his Confession) ; and an indig
nant pastoral protest against the capture of men and
women of his flock by a British chieftain (the Letter
to Coroticus). His own life was so obscure that his
very existence has been doubted; and competent
scholars have most variously estimated the extent and
significance of his work.1 Yet Christianity has been
1 All earlier literature regarding Patrick has been superseded
by the recent studies of Professors Zimmer and Bury. Professor
87

88 GREAT MEN OF THE CHRISTIAN CHURCH
advanced by men of lowly capacities and attainments,
as well as by those of education and high station;
and a consideration of Patrick may exhibit the
forces by which it has made progress as truly as a
study of Athanasius or of Augustine.
In Roman days what are now England, Ireland,
and Scotland were inhabited by Kelts, of whom the
Irish, the Highlanders of Scotland, and the Welsh
are now the representatives. Though divided into
two main language groups, the Irish-Scotch and the
British, they were similar in original habits of thought
and intercommunication was easy. Roman arms,
however, subdued only what is now England and
southern Scotland, with the result that a considerable
degree of Roman culture was introduced into the
conquered portions, while the rest largely remained
in their primitive state. In the Roman section the
church at length obtained a footing; but, as in the
northwestern part of the Empire generally, it was
feebly represented till after the conversion of Con
stantine. Bishops of London, York, and Lincoln were
Zimmer {Realencyklopiidie jiir protestantische Theologie und
Kirche, 3d. ed., X, 204-21, translated into English as The Celtic
Church in Britain and Ireland, 1902) minimizes his significance,
and regards him as identical with Palladius, of which more will
be said. Professor Bury (The Life of St. Patrick and His Plate
in History, 1905) has answered Zimmer, in the main successfully,
and has shown the real importance of Patrick's work. He
attempts, less successfully, to distinguish Patrick from Palladius.
The writer would acknowledge his large indebtedness to both of
these scholars.

PATRICK 89
present, however, at the Synod of Aries in 314, and
Christianity seems to have grown rapidly in Britain,
as in the other western regions of the Empire, during
the fourth century. In estimating the intellectual
state of British Christianity one recalls that Pelagius
was from that land.
With the collapse of the Roman power at the
beginning of the fifth century, the civilization of
Britain rapidly deteriorated, and the invasions of the
Saxons drove the older inhabitants largely to the
more mountainous western portion of England, and
so extensively reintroduced heathenism that, while
Christianity did not absolutely perish, most of the
land became missionary territory. But before the
Saxon conquest had widely extended — certainly by
the end of the first quarter of the fifth century (401-
25) — Christianity had begun to reach out from Ro
man Britain into Scotland and Ireland. This growth
was doubtless aided by the ease of communication
where speech was so similar, and in Ireland especially
by the settlement of Irish in southwestern England.
There was therefore a considerable degree of Christi
anity in Ireland before Patrick began his work, and
he cannot be called "the Apostle of Ireland" in the
sense that he introduced Christianity into a wholly
heathen country. Yet the land was in a very rude
stage of civilization, divided into tribes ruled over by
petty chieftains, whom it is almost absurd to desig
nate by the name of kings. Some of these "kings"

90 GREAT MEN OF THE CHRISTIAN CHURCH
were subject to others, and all were under the over-
lordship of the "high king" whose seat was at Tar a,
northwestward of Dublin. Irish Christianity was in
an unorganized state, and undoubtedly very much
heathenism still existed at the time Patrick began his
work. Like that of Augustine, though in much humbler
surroundings, the story of Patrick's awakening to his
mission in life is that of a transformation wrought in
him by the Spirit of God. Born about 389, in a vil
lage called Bannaventa, probably in the region of
southwestern England near the river Severn, but not
yet identified with even approximate assurance, he
was by race a Briton. His father was a man of
some local distinction, a municipal councilor (de-
curion), Calpurnius by name. His grandfather, Po-
titus, had been a priest. He was therefore of a
family long Christian; and the married state of his
father and grandfather, though in clerical orders,
is not strange; for though clerical celibacy was urged
by councils and popes, it was still far from universal.
To the boy the British name Sucat, "Ready for
Battle," was given, and probably also the Latin name
Patrick (Patricius), though this may have been later
self-assumed in view of his father's prominence in the
local community.1 Though in far-off Britain, it was
with a strong sense of belonging to the great Roman
1 The latter is Professor Zimmer's conjecture; the former, and
more probable, that of Professor Bury.

PATRICK 91
Empire that Patrick grew up. That Empire had
fallen on evil days. The death of the able Theo
dosius in 395 was followed by the division of the
Empire between his feeble sons, Arcadius and Hono-
rius. The Germanic tribes promptly began their dev
astating invasions which resulted in the capture of
Rome itself in 410. In the peril of the central prov
inces the troops were withdrawn from the Roman
frontier. One legion was removed from Britain in
401, and practically all the remaining forces in 407.
Thus left well-nigh defenseless, the Romanized por
tions of the islands were attacked by their less civilized
foes on all sides, by Irish, Picts, and Saxons, and
became a prey to plunder and soon to conquest.
In one of these invasions, probably in 405, at all
events when Patrick was sixteen, he was taken pris
oner by Irish raiders, and carried a slave to the
western portion of Ireland, into the region now known
as Connaught. Here, under the hardest of condi
tions, as a herder of swine, he lived six years. But
here, in captivity, his spiritual nature was awakened,
as Augustine's had been amid the far different sur
roundings of cultivated and luxurious Milan. He
now turned to God in constant prayer, going out
before dawn, or whenever he could steal away from
his work to seek him. Spiritual things now became
to him the most important of realities. At last he
attempted to escape. With difficulty he made his
way to the east coast, probably to Wicklow; and

92 GREAT MEN OF THE CHRISTIAN CHURCH
there he found a vessel about to sail, the heathen
crew of which he persuaded with difficulty, and as he
believed only through divine answer to his prayers,
to take him with them. As part of the cargo was
Irish hounds, they may have felt the readier to allow
his presence as able, from his rough woodland life,
to handle these fierce dogs. The ship bore him in
three days to what is now France; but he was not
easily rid of his new-found and distasteful com
panions, who kept him with them as they carefully
avoided the towns and even the farms of that land,
then just desolated by the invasions of the Vandals.
It seems probable that they thus journeyed to north
ern Italy, though Patrick's description of the experi
ence is most perplexing; and that it was in Italy,
also, in 411 or 412, that he broke away from the
associates whom he had accompanied since sailing
from Ireland. At all events it seems certain that for
several years he now found a peaceful home in the
monastery which Honoratus had just founded on one
of the little islands of Lerins, in the Mediterranean,
off the extreme southeastern coast of what is now
France. Patrick's course is hard to trace, but it would
appear that, not far from 415, he was once more in his
old home in England. There he had a remarkable
dream, like to that of Paul at Troas.1 It seemed to
him that a messenger stood by him with letters from
1 Acts 16:9.

PATRICK 93
Ireland summoning him to labor for Christ where
once he had been a slave. Thenceforth he never
doubted his divine call to preach the gospel in that
land. He would not undertake the work, however,
without further preparation and the support of the
ecclesiastical authorities; and, therefore, he now
went to Auxerre in France, ninety-three miles south
east of Paris, for study and to enlist friends. Here he
was ordained a deacon by Bishop Amator. But
evidently the realization of his plan was difficult, and
it is easy to imagine that his want of education, and
what must have seemed to many his visionary nature,
led to the obstacles which he found in his way. It
was to be fourteen years at least after his arrival in
Auxerre before his wish to be sent to Ireland was to
be gratified.
The accomplishment of his desires came about in
a way that involves one of the most perplexing his
torical questions connected with Patrick's career.
Amator had been succeeded by Germanus as bishop
of Auxerre. The Pelagian controversy was at its
height. Pelagius himself was a native of Britain, or
even possibly of Ireland, and his views had no little
following among the Christians of those lands. In
429, at the request of British opponents of Pelagian-
ism, and with the approval of Pope Celestine (422-
32) secured by a deacon "Palladius," Germanus
went to England and waged spiritual warfare against
Pelagian opinions. The Irish Christians could at

94 GREAT MEN OF THE CHRISTIAN CHURCH
most have been few, and they were thus far unor
ganized. The pope's attention was attracted by
Palladius to Irish affairs, and, probably in 431, he
consecrated the deeply interested Palladius as bishop
for Ireland. In 432 Patrick entered on his work in
Ireland as a bishop. The question naturally arises
whether Palladius and Patrick were not the same
person ; and whether Patrick did not, therefore, go to
Ireland with the approval of the Bishop of Rome.
Competent scholars are divided on the problem. To
the present writer, the conclusion that the same per
son is indicated by both names seems much the more
probable, though a positive affirmation or denial
awaits more evidence than is at present available.1
If Palladius and Patrick were not one, then it may
be concluded that Pope Celestine sent Palladius, and
that probably on news of his early death, Patrick,
always so eager to labor in Ireland, but thus far
1 Professor Zimmer regards them as identical, Professor Bury
as separate personalities. For the identity may be urged the close
connection of dates; the interest of "Palladius" in Irish affairs;
the fact that both were ordained bishop for Ireland; that both
had relations with Germanus and Auxerre; and not least, that
"Palladius'' seems to be a Latinized equivalent of Patrick's
British name, Sucat = " Ready for Battle." Against it may be
presented the tradition represented by Muirchus' Life of Patrick,
late in the seventh century, that is, two hundred years after Patrick's
death, that "Palladius" had a brief mission to Ireland, ending in
his early demise, and was followed by Patrick. Then, too, the
fact that the seventh-century literature regarding Patrick does
not represent him as ordained by the pope, presents a serious
argument against the identity claimed.

PATRICK 95
hindered, was consecrated to the bishopric so recently
established and vacated. In that case he was proba
bly ordained by Germanus of Auxerre. At all events
Palladius-Patrick, or Patrick, if Palladius and Pat
rick are not identical, entered on his life-task in
Ireland in 432. All had been thus far a long prepa
ration, the difficulties of which had been surmounted
by his Christian enthusiasm and his confidence that
God had called him to this service.
From 432 to his death on March 17, 461, with the
probable exception of a brief journey to Rome about
441-43, Patrick labored in Ireland. The accounts of
his work are so overlaid with legend that its amount
or its places are difficult to trace; but certain it
is that it was of a threefold character. He preached
as a missionary to the heathen, and with marked
success. He himself recorded that he had baptized
thousands. Such a statement involves of course
much superficiality in his presentation of Christianity;
but there is no reason to doubt that a large propor
tion of the heathen population of the island were won
by him to at least an outward acknowledgment of
the gospel. He ordained priests and bishops, and
gave to the church of Ireland a definite form. He
founded monasteries, for which the Irish of his day
seem to have had a peculiar aptitude; and in Ireland
the church became monastic in its form for the next
two centuries at least to a degree not elsewhere char
acteristic of it. Indeed, it may be believed that this

96 GREAT MEN OF THE CHRISTIAN CHURCH
monastic tendency went much farther than Patrick
himself desired. He would have preferred a nearer
approximation to conditions as they existed on the
continent. He made Latin the language of worship
in the Irish church. He was, that is, not so much
the representative of the papacy, as of the unity of
western Christendom, into conformity with which he
would bring the weak Irish Christianity which he
found at the beginning of his activities, and which
he greatly extended and strengthened.
The scenes of Patrick's labors in Ireland are
largely obscured by legend; but his work centered
probably in the northeast portion of the island.
There he founded the church of Armagh about 444,
which was destined to be the leading see of Ireland,
and to have an ecclesiastical distinction among its
bishoprics like that of Canterbury in England. At
Saul, in the present County of Down, he was buried.
Besides these efforts to spread Christianity in north
eastern Ireland, he worked also in Meath, and in the
western districts which compose Connaught. His
activities were therefore chiefly in the northern half#
of the island. That he regarded it all as the field
of his charge is evident, and there is reason to think
that he preached yet more widely than has been indi
cated ; but these labors are exceedingly obscure.
Enough of the picture of Patrick appears through
the mists of time, however, to show not merely that he
was a man of rare Christian enthusiasm and indom-

PATRICK 97
itable persistence, who, in spite of all limitations
through lack of education, did a large mission
ary work; but that he aimed to serve the general
cause of Christianity well in a critical age. The
Roman world was falling into ruin. In Britain, in
vasions of Angles and Saxons were beginning which
were to make large portions of England once more
heathen. Patrick sought to organize the feeble Chris
tian beginnings of Ireland. He brought them, for a
time at least, into closer connection with the Chris
tianity of continental Europe. He helped to extend
the conquests of Christianity beyond the farthest
reach of Roman arms. He had no thought of foster
ing a church independent of the papacy, or of the
church of the Empire. Rather, he sought for the
Christians of far-off Ireland closer fellowship with
the rest of western Christendom. That the type of
unity which has Rome as its center was to prove full
of peril he could not see. That result was still veiled
in the future. But that he should wish the Chris
tians of Ireland not only increased in numbers, but
organized and brought fully into the great sisterhood
of churches of western Christendom, shows the strong
impression which the imperial unity that had its cen
ter at Rome had made on one of Rome's citizens,
though he was born in the farthest confines of the
Empire and in the time of its physical decay.
Yet Patrick's desires for organization and unity
were but imperfectly realized. The tribal division

98 GREAT MEN OF THE CHRISTIAN CHURCH
of Ireland, its passion for monasticism, and its ac
tual separation from the Christianity of the conti
nent, made the type of religion in Ireland for more
than a century and a half after his death essentially
monastic. Monasteries, rather than bishoprics, were
the seats of its life. The island was covered with
them; and from the monasteries came missionaries
who not merely carried Christianity to western Scot
land, like Columba (563), but spread it in northern
England, and even reached Italy, Germany, and ulti
mately far-off Iceland with their labors. It was not
till long after Roman missions, begun in 597, had
converted a large portion of Anglo-Saxon England,
that Ireland fully entered into the Roman obedience.
That history of semi-independence was on the whole
most creditable; but under the conditions of the
early Middle Ages, the larger unity in which Patrick
believed, and for which he strove, was well-nigh
essential to ultimate progress.
QUESTIONS
1. What is true of Patrick's education and intellectual
abilities ?
2. What was the nature of the population of the British
islands ? In how far was it Christian at the beginning of the
fifth century ?
3. What was the effect of the Anglo-Saxon conquest of
England ?
4. Was Ireland a wholly heathen land when Patrick
began his work ?

PATRICK 99
5. Where and when was Patrick born? His captivity
and escape ?
6. What was the nature of Patrick's spiritual awakening,
and what did it lead him to desire to do ?
7. What relation had the Pelagian controversy to Pat
rick's going to Ireland ?
8. Was Patrick ordained and sent by Pope Celestine ?
9. What was the nature of Patrick's work in Ireland?
Its threefold aim ?
10. Where did he labor and where was he buried ?
11. What was the value, and what the results of Patrick's
work? ADDITIONAL READING
H. Zimmer (translated by Miss A. Meyer), The Celtic Church
in Britain and Ireland (London, 1902).
J. B. Bury, The Life of St. Patrick and His Place in History
(London, 1905).
Philip Schaff, History of the Christian Church (New York,
), rv, 43-52-

BENEDICT

VI
BENEDICT
There has already been abundant occasion to
mention monasticism in these sketches. The insti
tution, as has been seen, was favored by men as
widely divided geographically as Athanasius, Augus
tine, Ambrose, and Patrick. In the fourth and fifth
centuries it was rapidly spreading, and down to the
time of Luther, who was himself a monk, almost
every leader of the church who rendered it conspicu
ous service was either himself a monk or a warm sup
porter of monasticism. Such unanimity of approval
shows that the institution must have appealed to
men for centuries as the highest manifestation of the
Christian life. Though Protestantism rightly repu
diated it, it is still regarded with favor by large sec
tions of the church.
Monasticism was the normal outcome of ascetic
tendencies which have their beginnings even in
apostolic times. A life of abstinence and especially
of celibacy was very early regarded as of superior
sanctity, and was approved by such men as Ter
tullian, Origen, and Cyprian. Long before the con
version of the Empire many took such vows, though
at first without withdrawing from the ordinary life of
the cities. The first separate society of ascetics dates
103

104 GREAT MEN OF THE CHRISTIAN CHURCH
from the dawn of the fourth century and was founded
by Hierakas of Leontopolis in Egypt. Its members
were pledged to abstain from marriage, wine, and
meat. But the tendency which it represented went
back almost to the beginnings of Christianity. Its
fundamental principle, the basis of later monasticism,
was the feeling that in withdrawal from the ordinary
associations of the world and in the conquest of the
passions the highest type of Christian life is to be
found. It was favored by the conviction, as old as
the time of Hermas (130-40), that the New Testa
ment teaches a lower and a higher morality, its pre
cepts of faith, hope, and charity being binding on all;
but its advice being for those who would do more
than is required of the ordinary Christian. Chief of
such works of supererogation are voluntary poverty
and voluntary abstinence from marriage.1 They
constituted the elements, it was thought, of the holier
life. Monasticism itself, which had its roots in this
earlier asceticism, originated in Egypt. Its first form,
and one long continuing, especially in the East, was
that of the hermit life. Anthony, the earliest example
of Christian monasticism, was born, about 251, in
the village of Koma. Under the impulse of Christ's
words to the rich young man,2 which may be called
the golden text of monasticism, he gave away his
1 Matt. 19:10-22; I Cor. 7:7, 8.
2 Matt. 19:21.

BENEDICT 105
property when twenty, and soon took up a lonely her
mit's life in a tomb. His example was contagious,
and he speedily had scores of imitators. Later
legend loved to recount his battles with temptations
assaihng him in visible forms. His long life was
protracted to one hundred and five years, and he was
the friend and supporter of Athanasius in the great
Arian conflict. While the hermit type long con
tinued popular in Egypt, a great improvement was
effected there by Pachomius, when, not far from the
year 322, he instituted the first Christian monastery.
Instead of permitting the monks to live singly or in
groups of hermits, each a law to himself, Pachomius
established a regulated common life, in which the
monks ate, labored, and worshiped, keeping fixed
hours, doing manual work, dressed in uniform garb,
and were under strict discipline. Pachomius' re
form was an immense advance on the hermit life
with its liability to idleness and eccentricity. It
brought monasticism into system and restraint. It
made the monastic life easy for women, for whom
the hermit form was well-nigh impossible.
Undoubtedly the strongest appeal made by mo
nasticism to the church of the fourth and fifth cen
turies was due to the belief, already noticed, that it
was the most Christian form of life. Its spread was
aided, however, by the general misery of the declining
Empire, especially the grinding system of taxing the
middle classes of the population, to which, more

106 GREAT MEN OF THE CHRISTIAN CHURCH
than to any other single cause, the economic and
military collapse of the Empire was due. Politically
and socially monasticism was most unfortunate. At
the time the Empire was most suffering from lack
of men to fill its armies and money for its treasury,
it took thousands from family life and productive
industry. Religiously considered, its effects were
twofold. While the system undoubtedly harmed
ordinary Christian life by fostering the feeling that
the truest Christian service could not be rendered
under the ordinary and natural conditions of human
society, it produced, not merely in its early period,
but throughout mediaeval history, a noble army of
missionaries, preachers, scholars, and consecrated
men and women.
Monasticism soon spread far beyond the bounds
of Egypt. Syria was its next great conquest; and
Asia Minor was won, especially through the influence
of Basil, Gregory of Nazianzen, and Gregory of
Nyssa, the champions of the Nicene faith of the
generation that succeeded Athanasius. To Basil,
who died in 379, was due the " Rule" under which the
monasticism of the Greek church is organized to the
present day.
From the East monasticism was speedily intro
duced into western Europe, in spite of some opposi
tion, by the efforts of Athanasius, though it was not
till between 370 and 380 that the first monastery was
there established. Furthered in Rome by Jerome,

BENEDICT 107
in Milan by Ambrose, in North Africa by Augustine,
in France by Martin of Tours, the institution spread
with immense rapidity through all western Chris
tendom. Great diversity of organization existed,
however; some monasteries following the "Rule" of
Pachomius, others that of Basil, and yet others those
composed by western leaders. In this want of uni
formity was a source of much irregularity, and, as
time soon proved, of much corruption. The sys-
tematizer and organizer of western monasticism, the
man who gave to early monasticism its noblest expres
sion, was to be Benedict.
Benedict was born in Nursia (Norcia), about
eighty-five miles northeast of Rome, late in the fifth
century. His education in Rome had advanced but
little when he adopted the extremest form of asceti
cism, and dwelt as a hermit in a cave near Subiaco, in
the mountains some forty miles eastward of the city.
Here he spent three years in the study of the Scrip
tures and in severe self-mortification, till the monks
of a neighboring monastery chose him for their abbot.
His strict discipline proved irksome to them, how
ever. He narrowly escaped death by poison at their
hands, and gladly betook himself once more to his
cave. He could not now be alone, for his fame
attracted disciples. He taught children, he estab
lished a group of small monasteries. Subiaco proved
at length, however, an uncomfortable place of so
journ by reason of the jealous opposition to Benedict

108 GREAT MEN OF THE CHRISTIAN CHURCH
of one of its clergy; and, therefore, he left it, now a
man of ripened observation and experience. In 529,
he laid, at Monte Cassino, eighty-five miles south
east of Rome, the foundations of what was to be
the most famous monastery in Europe, the mother-
house of the Benedictine order. For this monastery
he wrote his celebrated "Rule." Here he taught,
preached, and lived, a pattern of monastic piety till
his death, which occurred after the summer of 542. "
Benedict was no scholar, but he had the Roman
genius for administration, an earnest belief in mo
nasticism as the ideal Christian life, and a profound
knowledge of human nature. In the creation of his
"Rule" he built on the work of the regulators of
monasticism who had gone before him, but with a
moderation and good sense that reveal the keenness
of his observation and his capacity to meet existing
needs. Monasticism, in his judgment, had its grave
perils. Many monks lived unworthily of their pro
fession. Some were no better than vagabonds.
These evils were due to lack of discipline. Discipline
was a fundamental need; yet it must not be made too
heavy a yoke for ordinary men. It is this remarkable
combination of strict restraint with some real degree
of freedom, of lifelong vows with moderation in
requirements, that above all distinguished Benedict's
"Rule." 1 The traditional date, March 21, 543, is without adequate
historic support. The East-Gothic king, Totila, visited him in
the summer of 542. That is the last certain event in his life.

BENEDICT 109
Benedict's conception of the monastic career seems
to have been that of a spiritual garrison holding duty
for Christ in a hostile world. As such, its discipline
was a necessary part of its life. None should enter
its service until he had tried the life fully for at least
a year's novitiate, during which he should be free
to leave. This completed, the would-be monk took
the threefold vows which forever cut him off from
the world, binding himself to permanent life in the
monastery, poverty and chastity, and obedience to its
rule and its head. The government of the monas
tery was vested in an abbot; and nowhere does
Benedict's skill more signally appear than in his
provisions for its exercise. While each monk was
vowed to absolute obedience to the abbot's com
mands, even if they seemed to him impossible of ful
filment, the abbot was chosen by the free suffrage of
all the monks, he could decide weighty matters only
after calling for the judgment of the whole body, and
smaller concerns affecting the monastery only on
hearing the opinion of the elder brethren. Benedict
was wise enough to know that a sensible man, even
if given absolute authority in theory, would not long
resist the wishes of the majority of those whose advice
he was obliged to take in all cases of importance.
Under the abbot, and appointed by him "with the
advice of the brethren," was to be a provost as an
assistant in government, and in large monasteries
"deans," also, chosen for the same purpose. That

.no GREAT MEN OF THE CHRISTIAN CHURCH
the separation of the monks from the world should
be as complete as possible, Benedict prescribed that
each monastery, wherever feasible, should be equip
ped to furnish the necessaries of life, since he deemed
wandering outside its walls a chief spiritual danger.
Benedict's regulations concerning food and drink
exhibited a similar moderation and wisdom. He
would have neither luxury nor undue fasting, and
he was especially considerate in the care of those who
were ill. Since worship was a large part of monastic
life, careful requirements were made for its observ
ance in the "Rule." On the supposed authority
of Scripture, Benedict required not merely seven
services in the twenty-four hours, but made much
of that appointed for two in the morning, the
"vigil."1 In contrast to the prescriptions of some
other "Rules," however, the services appointed by
Benedict, except the "vigil," were notably brief,
demanding only about twenty minutes each. They
consisted chiefly in the recitation of the Psalms, the
whole book being used each week.
Benedict's most fruitful requirements were re
garding labor. " Idleness, " said he, in the " Rule, "
"is hostile to the soul, and therefore the brethren
should be occupied at fixed times in manual labor,
and at definite hours in religious reading." He
saw clearly the moral value of work; and he was
broad-minded enough in his conception of labor to
1 Ps. 119 : 62, 164.

BENEDICT ill
include in it that of the mind as well as that of the
hands. The proportion naturally varied with the
seasons. In the harvest time of summer the manual
labor of the fields was the first duty; in the com
parative rest of winter, especially in Lent, oppor
tunities, and consequently requirements, for reading
were increased. Those who could not read were to
have additional manual work assigned to them, that
they might have no relaxation of duties by reason of
their ignorance. Besides reading, the instruction of
boys placed in charge of the monastery was a duty of
the monks following the example of Benedict him
self. A Benedictine monastery that was true to the
purposes of the founder of the order was, therefore,
a little world in itself, in which the monks lived a
strenuous but not overburdened life, involving
worship, vigorous labor in the shop and fields, and
serious reading. It made every Benedictine mon
astery the possessor of something of a library; and,
though Benedict himself says nothing about clas
sical learning, his aim being primarily religious, the
Benedictine monasteries soon copied and read the
great literary examples of Latin antiquity. Perhaps
a considerable influence in this direction of study
came from the monastery near Squillace, in extreme
southern Italy, founded before Benedict's death by
Cassiodorius, in which the cultivation of the classics
was one of the duties of the monks. At all events, it

112 GREAT MEN OF THE CHRISTIAN CHURCH
is to the monasteries of the order of Benedict that
we owe not merely the preservation of the writings
of the Latin Church Fathers but the masterpieces
of Roman literature.
From Italy the Benedictine "Rule" spread rapidly
over western Europe. It is almost impossible to ex
aggerate the services of these monks in the transition
period caused by the ruin of the old Roman civiliza
tion and the growth in its place of the new life of
the Germanic conquerors. That that new life pre
served so much of the best the old had to offer in
Christianity and civilization alike was largely due to
this Benedictine monasticism. Northern Europe was
then much like North America at the coming of the
first European settlers. It was in large measure a
land of forests and unfilled soil. The monasteries
did what a modern mission station does among bar
barous peoples. They instructed in the principles of
Christianity, they relieved distress and sickness to a
considerable degree, they taught agriculture to the
peoples of northern Europe, they preserved such
learning as survived the Germanic invasions, they
gave the only schools. Above all, they made it
possible, in a rude age when men won and held
property and place in the world by the sword, for
peace-loving, religious-minded people to find a com
paratively quiet and sheltered life. They gave the
only opportunity that the early Middle Ages had to
offer for study, for protection amid constant warfare,

BENEDICT 113
and for rest. They were a great missionary force,
and a constant reminder to a rude population that
there are other interests than those of the body.
It is easy to see that monasticism had its perils.
Some of them have already been pointed out. While
the individual monk might vow himself to poverty,
the monasteries often grew immensely rich through
gifts, especially of land. Their discipline frequently
became lax. Their original strenuousness was not
easily preserved. The history of the Middle Ages
shows constant efforts for their reform; and the
foundation of new branches designed to repair the
corruption into which the old had fallen. Above all,
their conception of the Christian life was essentially
unnatural. To enter a monastery was to separate
from the world, to abandon the ordinary relationships
of social life, to eschew marriage and all that the
Christian home signifies. These were the funda
mental evils of monasticism and they grew out of an
ascetic interpretation of Christianity which is much
earlier than the monastic system. But to recognize
this now is not to say that these faults were apparent
to the men of the declining Roman Empire or of the
Middle Ages. For them, generally, the monastic
seemed the truest type of the Christian life. Nor
should we, in noting the evils of monasticism, in any
way underrate the immense services of the system to
the spread and development alike of Christianity and
of civilization in the most trying period of European

114 GREAT MEN OF THE CHRISTIAN CHURCH
history, and, in fact, throughout the Middle Ages to
the Reformation. Early European monasticism owed
its usefulness in higher degree than to any other of
its founders to the organizing ability, good sense, and
consecration of Benedict. QUESTIONS
i. What were the fundamental principles of Christian
asceticism ? How early did it appear in the church ? How
widely did it spread ?
2. In what country did monasticism originate? Who was
the first Christian hermit ?
3. What improvement did Pachomius introduce ?
4. How did the declining state of the Roman Empire aid
the growth of monasticism ?
5. What influence had Basil on its spread and organiza
tion? 6. Under whose auspices was monasticism introduced into
the West ?
7. What was the early religious life of Benedict ? Where
and how did he labor ? What great monastery did he estab
lish? 8. What evils did Benedict attempt to correct? What
was the importance of his "Rule" ? What was his conception
of the monastic life ?
9. How did one become a monk ? How was a monastery
governed ? How did Benedict combine obedience with some
degree of freedom ?
10. What can be said of Benedict's prescriptions as to
food and worship ?
11. What importance did Benedict attach to labor?
Why ? Was this labor manual only ?
12. Some services of monasticism to Europe?
13. The good and evil in monasticism?

BENEDICT 115
ADDITIONAL READING
Philip Schaff, History of the Christian Church (New York,
1884), III, 147-233-
Ephraim Emerton, An Introduction to the Study of the Middle
Ages (Boston, 1888), pp. 135-49.
 , Mediaeval Europe (Boston, 1894), pp. 555-81.
F. Guizot, History of Civilization in France, Lecture XIV
(1830), English translation (New York, 1882).
Adolf Harnack, Monasticism (London 1901).

HILDEBRAND

VII
HILDEBRAND
There has been frequent occasion to mention the
growth of the power of the Bishop of Rome. That
increase had many causes and was by no means uni
form. Even before the close of the first century,
Clement, writing to the Corinthians in the name of
the Roman church, uses a tone of admonition that,
though fraternal, implied that Rome ought to be
heard. The Gnostic controversy strengthened Rome's
position as the great church of the West in which
apostles had worked, and therefore as the bearer of
the apostolic tradition. Irenaeus and Tertullian,
before the latter became a Montanist, thus looked up
to it as the head of Christendom. Its position in the
capital favored its growth in honor, and no less the
large size and conspicuous benevolence of its con
gregation. In the great Nicene and christological
controversies the church of Rome could boast its
orthodoxy. The exigencies of the Nicene quarrel led
the Council of Sardica, in 343, to give to the Bishop
of Rome the right of deciding disputed possession of
bishoprics. An edict of the emperor Theodosius, in
380, ordered all to be of the faith given by Peter to
the Romans and laid legal foundations for the au
thority of the pope over all western Christendom.
no

120 GREAT MEN OF THE CHRISTIAN CHURCH
Pope Innocent I (401-17) claimed judicial power over
the whole church, and Leo I (440-61) renewed the
pretentions in yet more drastic form, the more effect
ively because an edict of the western emperor Valen-
tinian III, in 445, recognized the pope as the head
of the church, with power to call bishops to judgment,
and with authority to declare what should be held by
all as law in ecclesiastical questions.
The Germanic invasions, so destructive of the
political fabric of the Roman Empire, helped mightily
the growth of the papacy. They completed the sepa
ration of East and West, thus giving the papacy an
independent field for development. They removed
imperial control such as still pressed on the patriarch
of Constantinople. They made the pope the heir of
the honor and reverence which attached, even in its
political decay, to the city which had once been the
capital of the world. Above all, they presented a
splendid missionary opportunity of which the papacy
amply availed itself, not merely for the spread of
Christianity, but for the extension of its own author
ity. The missions of the monk Augustine to Eng
land, in 596, sent by Gregory I (590-604), and
of Boniface to Germany (719-55) added strong
churches in those lands to the Roman communion,
which were much more directly champions of the
papacy than the older ecclesiastical bodies of western
Europe. Nor did the papacy neglect the new monarchies

HILDEBRAND 121
that rose on the ruins of the Roman state. It early
entered into relations with the Franks. With papal
approval the crown was transferred from the last of
the incapable Merovingians to Pippin the Short
(751, 754). In turn, the papacy received from that
Frankish king the beginnings of its territorial sover
eignty, the "States of the Church," which it was to
hold till 1870. Whatever other factors may have
entered into the transfer of the Roman imperial dig
nity, in the judgment of western Europe, from the
feeble Constantine VI of Constantinople to Charle
magne, it was Pope Leo III who crowned the new
emperor at Rome in 800. It was Nicholas I (858-
67) who compelled a royal great-grandson of Charle
magne to take back a discarded wife, who humbled
the chief bishops of Germany, France, and Italy, and
who asserted the rights of the papacy even in the case
of the patriarch of Constantinople. In his claims
and deeds the programme of the mediaeval papacy
may be said to have been presented. Even Hilde-
brand went but little farther than Nicholas.
Nothing was more remarkable about the Roman
Empire than the long-continued sway which it held
over the imaginations of men. Even after its political
institutions had crumbled into ruin, it seemed to the
Middle Ages that it could not die. The civilized
world, however, actually divided, still continued theo
retically a unit, having, as Pope Gelasius I had de
clared to the emperor Anastasius in 494, two heads,

122 GREAT MEN OF THE CHRISTIAN CHURCH
the one temporal, represented by the emperor, the
other spiritual, by the Bishop of Rome. Hence,
when a Germanic leader of imperial size appeared in
Charlemagne, the sentiment of western Christendom
approved what it regarded as the transfer of the
Roman Empire to him; and when his line ran out in
inefficiency, it believed that the Empire was continued
in the new rulers of Germany. In 962, when Pope
John XII crowned Otto I of Germany emperor, the
"Holy Roman Empire" began that was to last till
1806; but in the judgment of the time it was no new
institution. Otto had simply been given a place in
the long line of heads of the temporal world which
had continued since Augustus.
In mediaeval theory, therefore, church and state
were but two aspects of Christendom; the one rep
resenting Christian society organized to secure spir
itual blessings, the other the same society united to
preserve justice and temporal well-being. Theoreti
cally church and state were in harmonious inter
play, each aiming to secure the good of mankind;
but as the soul is more important than the body, and
man's salvation more desirable than his temporal
happiness, the church is the higher in dignity of the
two divinely co-ordinated powers.
It is easy to see, however, that such a theory led
to constant rivalry in practice. Theoretically har
monious, church and state were actually contestants,
the question being should the church rule the state,

HLLDEBRAND 123
or the state control the church ? This contest was
illustrated on countless fields, large and small,
throughout the Middle Ages, but nowhere so con
spicuously as between the heads of the two orders —
the popes and the emperors. Sometimes the one
predominated, sometimes the other. Under Charle
magne's masterful rule, the leader of the state was
unquestionably the superior; his weak great-grand
sons found in Nicholas I, as has been seen, a spirit
ual ruler of greater force than theirs. But, after
Nicholas, the weight of influence for nearly two
centuries was unquestionably on the imperial side.
The popes, nominally chosen by the clergy and people
of Rome, were from the last quarter of the ninth to
nearly the middle of the eleventh centuries really the
creatures of the unscrupulous nobility of Rome and
its vicinity. When these lords had their way their
appointees were, with some exceptions, unworthy of
their high office. The papacy fell to its lowest
depths. The emperors repeatedly interfered and se
cured the deposition of some of the worst, practically
controlling the papal chair itself. Thus Otto I (963
and 966) interfered in papal affairs and compelled the
people of Rome to swear to choose no pope without
imperial consent. Otto III (in 996 and 999) placed
his own friends on the papal throne. Henry III at
the Synod of Sutri (1046) secured the deposition of
three rival Italian popes, and vindicated for him
self the right to nominate to the office. The Empire

124 GREAT MEN OF THE CHRISTIAN CHURCH
was thus actually the superior of the papacy. While
emperors thus occasionally controlled even the choice
of popes, the sovereigns of the period naturally
exercised a practical right of nomination and ap
pointment to high ecclesiastical office in their own
territories. These appointments were often made
for the most unspiritual reasons, personal favoritism,
political influence, or money considerations. In the
Empire, control of ecclesiastical appointments be
came vital for the maintenance of the imperial
power itself. The great lay fiefs were hereditary.
With them the emperor could interfere but little.
But if he could control the heads of the monasteries
and the bishops, he could, by filling these posts with
his friends, offset the lay nobility and raise sufficient
taxes and troops. To take from the emperor the
control of appointment to the chief ecclesiastical posts
of Germany was to strike at the very foundations on
which the imperial power of the eleventh century
rested. It was inevitable, however, that many good men
looked with disfavor on this systematic filling of
ecclesiastical posts for other than religious reasons.
They felt that the church should be independent of
secular control. They believed that if the papacy
could be occupied by men of character and power,
strong enough to force the appointment of worthy
candidates to church offices, and to take from the
emperors their control, the religious situation would

HILDEBRAND 125
be materially bettered. This desire first found or
ganized expression in a reform movement known as
that of Cluny. The monastery of Cluny had been
founded in eastern France in 910, and, though Bene
dictine in government, had gradually become the
head of a large group of monastic foundations, owing
allegiance to its abbot. Of these dependencies, one
was that of St. Mary on the Aventine Hill in Rome.
From the first, the Cluny movement had a strongly
reformatory character, its opposition being directed
against "Simony," that is appointment to ecclesias
tical office for any other than religious considerations,
and " Nicolaitanism," meaning any breach of priestly
celibacy, especially by the still widely prevalent
marriage of priests.1 The general tendency of
the Cluny reform was, therefore, to emphasize
the churchly rather than the secular forces of the
time, and at the beginning of the eleventh century,
many of its supporters were holding that by the
establishment of a strong, independent, authorita
tive papacy alone could the desired reforms be
accomplished. The papacy itself must be freed
from dependence either on Roman nobles or on
emperors, and made forceful enough to take high
clerical appointments out of the hands of secular
princes. Cluny principles were carried to the papacy itself
1 For the scriptural instances from which these names were
derived, see Acts 8:18, 19; and Rev. 2:14, 15.

126 GREAT MEN OF THE CHRISTIAN CHURCH
by Bishop Bruno of Toul, a relative of the emperor
Henry III, and practically appointed by him, who
became pope as Leo IX (1048-54). Of high char
acter, forceful, learned, and popular, he revived the
prestige of the papacy by numerous synods under his
supervision in Germany, France, and Italy, and with
out forfeiting imperial support by too strenuous
opposition, fought "Simony" and "Nicolaitanism."
Above all, he brought the cardinalate into its modern
significance. The pope had long had as his imme
diate advisors the bishops in the vicinity of Rome
who looked up to him as their local archbishop, the
priests in charge of the chief churches of the city, and
the deacons at the head of the fourteen districts into
which Rome was divided for charitable relief. These
had been almost universally Romans. Leo IX now
appointed to these offices men from anywhere in
western Christendom, thus making the cardinalate
in a sense representative of the church as a whole —
and naturally, he chose sympathizers with the Cluny
movement. Under him, Hildebrand came into
prominence, though as yet far from shaping the
papal policy, and the pupil rather than the teacher
of Leo IX.
Hildebrand was born, in humble circumstances,
in the region of Italy known as Tuscany; but as he
was early committed to the charge of an uncle who
was abbot of St. Mary on the Aventine — the monas
tery of Cluny affiliations in Rome — he always re-

HILDEBRAND 127
garded himself as a Roman.1 There he grew up,
filled with Cluny ideas, and we first meet him in inti
mate relations with the unhappy Gregory VI, whom
Henry III sent into exile in Germany in 1046. Hil
debrand accompanied that ex-pope, showing thereby
his fidelity, and remained in Germany till his patron's
speedy death. Then, probably after a brief stay in
Cluny itself, he accompanied the newly appointed
Leo IX back to Rome. By Leo he was ordained a
sub-deacon, and apparently intrusted with much of
the secular and financial business of the papal see.
Short of figure, and insignificant in appearance, he
was soon recognized as of great talents and iron
determination; and, though his role under Leo IX
was subordinate, it was not long after that vigorous
pontiff's death before he was recognized as the most
forceful man in Rome and the most efficient sup
porter of the extreme claims of the papacy, as well
as an energetic opponent of "Simony" and "Nicolai
tanism." Such a man was needed to aid in carrying
the papacy through the next stormy years. He and
his party would free it first of all from dependence on
the emperor or the Roman nobles. It was a most
difficult task. Henry III died in 1056, leaving the
Empire in confusion. Hildebrand largely aided in se
curing the recognition of Stephen IX (1057-58); but
on his death, the cardinals were driven from Rome
1 The year of his birth is unknown, but must have been about
1020.

128 GREAT MEN OF THE CHRISTIAN CHURCH
and the Roman nobles once more set up a pope to
their liking. A weaker man than Hildebrand would
have yielded. But, largely by his skill, the Romans
were divided, the consent of the empress-regent was
secured, and a reformatory pope, Nicholas II (1058-
61) was chosen by the exiled cardinals at Siena.
The circumstances of this choice were now enacted
into a new law regulating papal election that essen
tially rules the choice of popes to this day. Whether
the drafting of this constitution was Hildebrand's
own work may be doubted, but the policy which it
embodied was his. In terms intentionally indefinite,
because it was impossible to see how far the new
policy could be carried out, it was provided that in
papal elections the cardinals should be the "leaders."
Only indefinite and wholly secondary rights were
allowed the emperor or the Roman people. Further
more, the cardinals could meet anywhere for an
election, and choose the pope from the local Roman
congregation only when they saw fit. This great
constitution placed the choice of the pope thus in
the hands of the cardinals, now mostly of the reform
party, and took control at once from the Romans and
the emperors. To prepare for the inevitable oppo
sition, Hildebrand entered into political combina
tions with such Italian forces as he could, notably
with the Normans, who were conquering the southern
portion of the peninsula. On the death of Nicho
las II the struggle came. But, thanks primarily to

HILDEBRAND 129
Hildebrand' s political skill, in spite of the opposition
of Romans, Germans, and Lombards, at the end of
a most doubtful conflict, Hildebrand's candidate,
Alexander II (1061-73), was safely secured in pos
session of the papacy, which made great strides
under his leadership, aided by Hildebrand's abilities,
toward an effective control not merely of the whole
western church, but of the political situation of the
hour. Under Alexander's approval, and with his aid,
William the Conqueror gained England (1066), and
the rulers of France, Germany, and Denmark, though
unwillingly, had to yield much to his demands.
It was but fitting that when Alexander II died in
1073, Hildebrand was chosen his successor, under the
name of Gregory VII. His policy had long been
determined. To his thinking the church is by divine
appointment superior to the state, and the head of
the church, the pope, superior to all secular princes.
As such, the pope could judge their worthiness to
rule, could depose them when unfit, and exercise
judgment thus over the political as well as over the
religious interests of Christendom. The loftiness of
this ideal is undeniable. In Hildebrand's theory, a
pope, of high character, and with absolute authority,
speaking with divine authority the moral judgment
of Christendom, should be the final arbiter of all
conduct. From him as God's representative rulers
should take commarfds, and to him princes should be
responsible. A visible Kingdom of God ought to be

130 GREAT MEN OF THE CHRISTIAN CHURCH
the result. Actually impossible of realization this
ideal was, but experience had not yet proved the fact,
and Hildebrand undoubtedly believed in full sincer
ity that his lofty claims were really those of the
gospel. The elements of the contest were at hand. Henry
Ill's successor in Germany was his son, Henry IV,
now twenty-three years of age, whose own disposi
tion and mistakes had alienated a considerable
portion of his subjects, notably the Saxons, but who
was at his best in adversity, and was marked by
firmness, courage, and resourcefulness — an opponent
in no way to be despised. Alexander II and Henry
IV had quarreled over Henry's claim to fill the arch
bishopric of Milan as he wished, and the dispute
was still unsettled. Alexander, just before his death,
had threatened some of Henry's counselors with ex
communication on charges of " Simony." Nicholas
II, as early as 1059, had forbidden all investiture with
ecclesiastical office by laymen, and Alexander II had
repeated the prohibition. If Henry persisted in fill
ing the bishoprics of the Empire, as he undoubtedly
would, a quarrel was inevitable with a pope of Hilde
brand's principles.
But, at first, the situation seemed favorable to the
pope. Henry's hands were tied by a rebellion of
the Saxons. So friendly to Hildebrand did he show
himself in this distress, that the pope, in 1074, pro
posed to Henry a crusade to aid the hard-pressed

HILDEBRAND 131
Christians of the Orient and to drive back their
Mohammedan foes — the first and almost unheeded
note of a call that a little more than twenty years later
was to rouse Europe to the greatest united effort of the
Middle Ages. In 1075, however, Henry defeated the
Saxons. His hands were free. His attitude toward
Hildebrand's claims at once altered. He nominated
a new archbishop for Milan, and sought to draw the
Normans from the pope. The open quarrel at once
began, and its scenes moved with tragic swiftness.
In December, 1075, Hildebrand threatened Henry
with excommunication. In January, following,
Henry, and the majority of the German bishops and
nobles assembled at Worms, declared Hildebrand no
pope, refused obedience, and ordered him, in insult
ing terms, to leave the papal chair. At the lenten
synod in Rome, in 1076, Hildebrand replied by a
counterblast of unexampled papal action. He pro
nounced Henry excommunicated, deposed from sov
ereignty, and released the German vassals from their
oaths of allegiance. Could Hildebrand make this*
sentence effective, the pope would be in truth, what
he claimed, the ruler of kings and the arbiter of the
disputes of nations. To a large extent he succeeded
for the moment. Henry's support was at once di
vided. A great part of Germany fell away from
him in a measure for religious, but even more for
political reasons. Henry tried vainly to raise an
army to march to Italy; instead, by the autumn of

132 GREAT MEN OF THE CHRISTIAN CHURCH
1076, his nobles compelled him to lay aside all royal
state, and proposed to consider his further continu
ance in the kingly office at an assembly to be held in
Augsburg beginning February 2, 1077, provided
that before the end of that month he should be
relieved from excommunication. At this convention
the pope was invited to be present.
It was now a vital issue with Henry to secure the
removal of his excommunication before the fatal
assembly should meet. In vain he sought to move
Hildebrand by appeals. He now resolved on a
course of action which showed him an adroit politi
cian if the success of the moment is considered, but
which involved the most spectacular humiliation of
the state, as represented in him, before the church,
in the person of the pope, that the Middle Ages
witnessed. Escaping with difficulty from Speyer,
Henry made his way over the Alps just before
Christmas, determined to meet Hildebrand as the
pope journeyed toward Augsburg. Hildebrand, un
certain of Henry's intentions, sought refuge in the
strong castle of1 \Canossa, belonging to his de
voted supporter, Matilda, Marchioness of Tuscany.
Thither Hemy hurried, not as a warrior but as a
penitent. The pope at first refused to receive him,
as the decision of the future of the German kingship
at such an assembly as that proposed at Augsburg,
under papal guidance, would have been a mighty tri
umph for Hildebrand's claims. Henry was deter-

HILDEBRAND 133
mined to forestall that result by such a humiliation of
apparent repentance that, in deference to public
opinion, the pope must remove the excommunication.
On three successive days he appeared barefoot, and in
penitential attire, before the castle gate. It was such
a manifestation of contrition as was then expected of
great offenders, and could hardly be rejected, how
ever its real sincerity might be doubted. So, against
his wishes, on January 28, 1077, Hildebrand admitted
Henry to communion, though leaving the question of
his restoration to the kingdom still open. For Henry
this was enough. He was able now to render ineffect
ive the dreaded assembly at Augsburg ; though a rival
king was chosen in the person of Rudolf of Swabia,
by his German opponents. He was once more the
head of a large force in his own land. He had saved
his throne, and in many respects thwarted the pope,
though at the cost of a terrible humiliation of his own
dignity, and dishonor to his own conscience, for his
"repentance" at Canossa had never been more than
a political expedient. For the next three years,
1077-80, Hildebrand held a largely neutral position
between the two rival German kings, helping neither
effectively, but striving to have their claims, and,
therefore, the determination of the rightful sover
eignty of the Empire, submitted to his decision. In
this he failed, and finding he must take sides openly
he favored Rudolf, and once more, in March, 1080,
pronounced Henry excommunicated, deposed, and

134 GREAT MEN OF THE CHRISTIAN CHURCH
his subjects released from allegiance. The same
weapons of political warfare can seldom twice be
used effectively. This time the papal sentence
produced little effect. Public opinion in Germany
had turned against Hildebrand; and the death of
Rudolf, in October, 1080, placed Henry in a stronger
position than he had ever thus far enjoyed. Henry
now determined to carry the struggle to Rome itself.
After long efforts, he captured an important part of
the city in June, 1083. Even now he would recog
nize Hildebrand's papacy, provided the pope would
give up opposition to lay appointments. But Hilde
brand had the courage of his convictions, and abso
lutely refused to compromise his claims. Many,
even of his cardinals, now regarded Hildebrand's
cause as lost, and fell away from him. In March,
1084, Henry placed a partisan of his own as Clement
III, on the papal throne. Hildebrand held only the
Roman fortress, the Castle of San Angelo. The
coming of the Normans to his aid alone saved him
from falling into Henry's power ; but their cruel plun
dering of Rome embittered the Romans themselves
against him as the cause of this devastation. When
the Normans withdrew he had to go under their pro
tection, leaving Clement III in possession of the papal
city. At Salerno the sad remaining months of his
life were spent, and there he died, in exile, on May 25,
1085."Hildebrand's relations to Henry only have been

HILDEBRAND 135
considered. Did space permit, it would be interesting
to trace his dealings with England, France, Spain,
and Denmark. Everywhere he pursued the same
policy, though nowhere was the conflict so sharp
or so picturesque as with Germany. His ideal was
a divinely appointed church, having its highest rep
resentative in the pope, ruling the affairs of men.
With equal zeal he fought, also, against "Simony"
and " Nicolaitanism." Apparently he died defeated.
Really, the firmness with which he fought brought a
large degree of victory to his cause. He lives in
history as the ideal of a mediaeval pope. He placed
the papacy of the Middle Ages, if not superior to all
worldly powers as he wished, at least equal to any of
them. His ideas lived after him. In 11 22, when
Henry IV had been succeeded by Henry V and
Calixtus II was on the papal throne, the Concordat
of Worms largely settled the dispute with Germany
by a compromise on the whole favorable to papal
claims. Each bishop or abbot was to receive his
investiture with spiritual authority from the church,
his temporal possessions from the state. It was by
no means all that Hildebrand wished, but it assured
the independent share of the church in all ecclesiasti
cal elections, and the impulse toward sovereignty
given by him to the papacy was long enduring. In
methods he was unscrupulous; in his own personal
religious life simple and sincere. That he believed
his cause that of God there can be no question. It

136 GREAT MEN OF THE CHRISTIAN CHURCH
is equally evident that he had departed widely from
the conceptions of the gospel, and that his principles
are utterly impossible of application to the modern
world. QUESTIONS
1. What geographical and political circumstances aided
the growth of the papacy?
2. What were the claims of Innocent I and Leo I ?
3. What effect had the Germanic invasions on the papacy ?
Its relations to the new monarchies?
4. What was the influence of Nicholas I ?
5. Describe the mediaeval theory of the relations of church
and state. Was it possible to realize it in practice ?
6. What was the "Holy Roman Empire" ? Speak of inter
ferences of the German Empire with the papacy.
7. Describe the origin and aims of the Cluny reform move
ment. What was meant by "Simony" and "Nicolaitanism" ?
8. How were Cluny principles advanced by Leo IX?
What is the cardinalate ? How did Leo IX modify it ?
9. Outline Hildebrand's early career. What were his
aims? 10. What modification in the method of choosing popes was
effected under Nicholas II ? Its purpose and permanency ?
11. Outline Hildebrand's contest with Henry IV. What
did Hildebrand attempt to take from Henry ? Why ? What
principles were involved ?
12. What was the scene at Canossa? How did it come
to be? What advantages did Henry draw from it? What
was its larger significance?
13. How did Hildebrand's struggle with Henry end?
When and where did Hildebrand die ?
14. Estimate the results of Hildebrand's work.

HILDEBRAND 137
ADDITIONAL READING
W. R. W. Stephens, Hildebrand and His Time (New York, no
date) ("Epochs of Church History" Series).
Marvin R. Vincent, The Age of Hildebrand (New York, 1896).
James Bryce, The Holy Roman Empire (New York, 1904).
Ephraim Emerton, Mediaeval Europe (Boston, 1894, pp.
135-269).
Schaff (continued by David S. Schaff), History of the Christian
Church (New York, 1907), V, Pt. I, 1-80.

GODFREY

VIII
GODFREY
It will be remembered that during the brief season
at the beginning of his pontificate in which Hilde
brand cherished the thought that Henry IV would
yield to his wishes he proposed to that monarch a
crusade to aid the eastern Empire and to resist
recent Moslem advances (1074). * The immediate
occasion of his proposal was the conquest of Asia
Minor by the Seljuk Turks. Doubtless the zeal
of the great pope who first planned a crusade was
stimulated in part by the hope that it would bring
the Greek church into obedience to Rome; but there
is no reason to doubt that he was in this proposal, as
in so much else, the interpreter of the spirit of his
age, and that conceptions of a vitally religious nature
had a large share in the formation of his plan.
All religions have exhibited a strong tendency to
the veneration of sacred places. Christianity has
been no exception. By the time of the conversion of
the Roman Empire the graves and relics of the
marytrs were held in high honor; and this reverence
rapidly grew. Chief of all sacred places where it
was thought prayer would more readily be heard,
and whither pilgrimages were meritorious, was the
1 Ante, p. 130. 141

142 GREAT MEN OF THE CHRISTIAN CHURCH
land where Christ had walked with his disciples,
had suffered, lain in the tomb, and risen again. To
see the scenes on which he had gazed, to kneel
where he was born, to pray where his body had been
buried, seemed to be in some sense to draw near to
him. Hence Constantine founded great churches
in Bethlehem and Jerusalem, and pilgrimages thither
became at once frequent. These journeys to the
holy places continued throughout the Middle Ages.
The capture of Jerusalem by the Mohammedans in
637 placed the sacred sites in Moslem control, but
for the most part, the pilgrims, though taxed,
were not interrupted. The conquest of Palestine
by the Seljuk Turks altered the situation. Their
fanatical zeal destroyed churches, oppressed the
native Christians, and made pilgrimages exceedingly
dangerous. This momentous change in the situation in Pales
tine occurred when religious enthusiasm in the West,
especially where the Cluny movement was powerful,
was producing what can be described as nothing less
than a religious revival. That revival was accom
panied by an emphasis on the future life, and an
outburst of religious mysticism, that was the more
intense because of the general misery in which all
classes of society found themselves, by reason of
famines, constant warfare, and general unrest. To
men in a world which offered so little of peace or
comfort, the heaven of the gospels appealed as an

GODFREY 143
unspeakable boon; but the age was rough, violent,
and gross, and men have perhaps never been more
conscious of their unfitness for heaven than then.
No better way thither could they conceive than to
journey in penitence to pray where Christ had suf
fered and been glorified. Then, too, the age was one
of knightly adventure. In particular, the Normans
had recently conquered England and southern Italy,
and were fighting with the Moslems in Sicily. They
were eager, adventure-loving. The Crusades were
to appeal to three great passions: desire to come
near to Christ by following in his earthly footsteps ;
longing for forgiveness of sins by the performance of
some great act pleasing to God ; and love of adventure
promising fighting, booty, territorial aggrandize
ment, and betterment of prospects in life. Some
were moved primarily by one, some by another of
these motives ; but in many all three were so blended
that it seems impossible to say which predominated.
We should misjudge the Crusaders if we did not
recognize that they felt they were doing something
for Christ ; we should credit them with far too great
disinterestedness if we did not also perceive that they
were doing something very human for themselves.
The actual impulse to the First Crusade came from
an appeal of the hard-pressed emperor at Constanti
nople to Urban II. That able pope (1088-99) was
by birth a Frenchman, had been a member of the
Cluny order, and president of the cardinals under

144 GREAT MEN OF THE CHRISTIAN CHURCH
Hildebrand, whose purposes and ideals he fully
shared, though of a far more conciliatory spirit. He
had maintained the Hildebrandian cause with great
skill, and in March, 1095, in the pursuit of that con
trol, he held a council of Piacenza, in northern Italy.
Here the emperor Alexios presented his appeal
through his messengers. The pope gave it a favor
able hearing; but the matrimonial irregularities of
King Philip I of France led him to summon a further
council at Clermont, in that land, for November,
that the king's misdeeds might there be considered,
and to this council Urban determined to present the
thought of a crusade, not now, primarily, to help the
eastern emperor, but for the rescue of the sacred
places from Moslem hands. To Urban II was due
the conception of a crusade, in the form which was
actually to appeal to Europe; to his great teacher
Hildebrand was due the origin of the idea of a crusade
in any form. Urban's thought was more purely
religious' than Hildebrand's had been. It was not
the help of the eastern Empire, or the extension of
pipal authority, that he had in mind so much as
Christian control of the land hallowed by the earthly
life of Christ.
As the plan of the Crusade was Urban's, so the
impulse which set the armies in motion came from
him. To the assembled multitude at Clermont he
spoke on November 27, 1095, in words which have
not been exactly preserved, but the general purport

GODFREY 145
and effect of which are clear. He pictured the in
sults offered to the Christians and sacred places of
the Holy Land, he called on western Christendom
to cleanse the holy sites from such unbelievers, and
promised the divine blessing on the undertaking.
As he ended, the enthusiasm of the hearers swept all
before it. "God wishes it," they shouted, and
pledged themselves by hundreds to the accomplish
ment of the task.
The pope's summons was taken up, throughout
the length of France and the Rhineland, by preachers
who fanned the enthusiasm for the Crusade, of
whom the most famous, and probably the ablest, was
Peter, called "the Hermit," or "of Amiens," from
the city of northern France in or near which he was
born. Slight, gray-bearded, ascetic, eloquent, he
fired men's hearts for the work. Later tradition,
and probably a desire, also, to claim for monasti
cism a leading share in the great enterprise, repre
sented Peter as the originator of the Crusade. That
he was not.1 The honor belonged to Urban II, but
of his power as a preacher there can be no question.
He was, however, but one of many preachers whom
the pope's zeal and popular enthusiasm aroused.
Under the impulse thus given thousands of the
lower classes, ill prepared, and ill led, started from
1 The ablest recent defense of a greater share by Peter in the
origin of the Crusade than is here assigned him is that of David
S. Schaff, in Schaff's History of the Christian Church, V, Pt. I,
241-45. To the writer it is not wholly convincing.

146 GREAT MEN OF THE CHRISTIAN CHURCH
France and the Rhineland in the spring of 1096.
One such band was under the lead of Peter himself.
But their own disorders won the hatred of the peoples
through whose lands they passed, especially in Hun
gary and the Balkan countries. They reached Con
stantinople with fearful losses, and proved utterly
unable to do effective work against the Turks. The
real task of the Crusade was to be accomplished
under the lead of the feudal nobility of the age.
Four main armies were raised: one from the region
of the lower Rhine ; a second from southern France
under Count Raymond of Toulouse; a third from
the Normans of southern Italy, having as leaders
Bohemond and Tancred ; and a fourth under counts
Robert of Normandy and Stephen of Blois, from the
territories of France which their titles indicated. Of
these armies, the first named chiefly concerns us.
The forces from the Rhineland, which may have
numbered ten thousand horsemen and thirty thou
sand foot soldiers, were under the general leadership
— -it can hardly be called a command in the modern
sense — of the noblest knightly character that the First
Crusade produced, Godfrey of Bouillon, duke of
Lower Lorraine, a region embracing territories now
included in northern and eastern Belgium and
stretching southward over a portion of what is now
northern France and western Germany.1 Born
about 1060, he was the son of an earnestly religious
1 Bouillon itself is in extreme southeastern Belgium.

GODFREY 147
mother. His churchly sympathies did not prevent
him, however, from taking an active part on the side
of Henry IV in the campaign in Italy which resulted
in the political downfall of Hildebrand. What led
him to the Crusade we do not know; but his land was
deeply penetrated by the Cluny spirit, and in the
years immediately preceding the expedition it had
suffered in unusual degree from famine and conse
quent misery. To him, as to his brothers and com
panions Eustace and Baldwin, and to the Crusaders
generally, the call was not merely to service but to
sacrifice. He sold or mortgaged a large part of his
possessions, parting even with the castle of Bouillon,
for the expenses of the great undertaking.
In August, 1096, the long march was begun.
They journeyed probably up the Rhine and down the
Danube nearly to Vienna, then across Hungary to
Belgrade, the skill and good faith of Godfrey defend
ing them from many of the hostilities from which the
peasant bands of Crusaders had deservedly suffered.
From Belgrade, where they entered the territories
of the emperor Alexios, they pushed forward by
Sofia, Philippopolis, and Adrianople, to Constanti
nople, reaching there two days before Christmas,
after a march of not less than 1,450 miles. Here,
in the neighborhood of the city, the winter was spent,
waiting for the other crusading armies, and in con
stant, sometimes warlike, controversy with Alexios,
who wished to be free of such troublesome guests.

148 GREAT MEN OF THE CHRISTIAN CHURCH
In these disputes the wisdom and firmness of Godfrey
were conspicuously evidenced.
By the spring of 1097 all was ready for the ad
vance. On May 6 the Christian army laid siege
to the first city in Turkish territory, the ancient
Nicaea, where Constantine had held the first general
council in 325.1 The crusading host had no single
commander, but, on June 19, Nicaea surrendered to
Alexios, justly hoping to be better treated by him
than by the Crusaders, and the first success of the
expedition was achieved. Thence the army marched
diagonally across Asia Minor toward the ancient
province of Cilicia. At Dorylaeum, about 180 miles
from Constantinople, what seemed at first a defeat
was turned, on July 1, into a great crusading victory
that opened free way for the further march of the
army. But thenceforward nearly till Iconium was
reached, it suffered terrible losses from hunger and
thirst under the scorching summer sun. Thence,
by a long circle to the northeast through the ancient
Cappadocian Caesarea (Kaisariyeh and Marash),
they journeyed, till on October 20, 1097, they reached
Antioch, where the disciples had first been called
Christians,2 the strongest city of Syria.
Such a place would have been formidable to any
army before the use of canon. To the Crusaders,
unaccustomed to large cities, it seemed an almost
insurmountable obstacle. With its sieges and the
" Ante, p. 51. 2 Acts 11:26.

GODFREY 149
successful repulse of the Turkish army that came to
its relief the highest military achievements of the
Crusade were associated. By immense effort the
Christian forces carried on the siege from October,
1097, to the following June, and even then would not
have become masters of the city had it not been for
the aid of one of its inhabitants who enabled them
to effect a lodgment on its lofty walls. Its capture
was none too soon, for the Turkish sultan, Kerboga
of Mossul, was on his way with an immense relieving
army. Most courageously delayed at Edessa by the
pluck of Godfrey's brother, Baldwin, Kerboga did
not reach Antioch till two days after its capture
(June 5). The Christians now found themselves
besieged in the city which had so recently fallen into
their hands. With little food, and surrounded by an
immense army, many now gave themselves up to de
spair; but the enthusiasm of others was heightened.
Men believed they saw visions in which Christ and
the saints promised help. It was thought that the
very lance head that pierced the Savior's side as he
hung on the cross was found beneath the floor of the
Church of St. Peter and would bring sure victory.
Thus encouraged, the host marched out, in desperate
effort, and on June 28, in a tremendous battle, put
Kerboga and his Moslem army completely to flight.
In all this Godfrey bore his full share, but his
part was not as distinguished as that of Bohemond or
Tancred. Godfrey, however, had in mind more

150 GREAT MEN OF THE CHRISTIAN CHURCH
than any of the other leaders the main purpose of
the Crusade, and while Bohemond and Raymond
quarreled as to whose Antioch should be, and the
Christian leaders tried to make conquests in its vicin
ity, he urged an advance on Jerusalem. It was not
till May, 1099, however, that the army started. On
June 7 it was in sight of the Holy City. It had seen
tremendous fighting and had accomplished a march
since the Crusade began of not less than 2,500 miles.
As rank after rank beheld Jerusalem the Crusaders
fell on their knees in gratitude that the goal of their
pilgrimage was so close at hand. But severe contest
was needful before the city was theirs. Jerusalem is
strong of situation and was bravely defended. On
July 15, the Crusaders, Godfrey among the first,
effected a lodgment on the wall, and Jerusalem was
soon theirs. Mercy was no thought of the victors.
The Mohammedan inhabitants were slain; and their
bloody work accomplished, the Crusaders marched
in penitential thanksgiving to the Church of the Holy
Sepulcher. The work was done. The goal was
reached, which had cost such suffering and so many
lives. It remained now to provide for the govern
ment and defense of the Holy Land, and for the
majority of the surviving Crusaders to seek the homes
that they had left three years before.
On July 22, 1099, the leaders at Jerusalem unani
mously chose Godfrey as head of the new state. He
took for his title "Protector of the Holy Sepulcher."

GODFREY 151
There was in him that which commanded general
trust. His modesty, his steadfastness, his courage,
his simple piety, all commended him, and of all the
leaders it was most fitting that he should keep what
had been won. One task remained to be done before
the main body of the Crusaders could depart. The
Moslem ruler of Egypt was sending a large army to
avenge the capture of Jerusalem. On August 12, it
was wholly defeated near Ascalon, and the last great
danger that threatened the new conquests of the
Crusaders was overcome. The Christian territories,
divided in feudal fashion under princes, counts, and
barons, now stretched from Tarsus and Edessa on
the north to the southern borders of ancient Philistia
on the south — a realm greater than that of David.
Godfrey did not long survive his entrance on his
new and responsible office. On July 18, 1100, he
died, universally lamented, and was buried in the
Church of the Holy Sepulcher in Jerusalem. He
was succeeded by his brother, Baldwin I (1100-18),
who did not hesitate to take the kingly title. The
region so hardly won could not be held save by con
stant fighting; and a steady stream of knights and
humbler folk poured from the West to the Holy
Land, most of whom gave their lives in the cause, or
perished from the hardships and illnesses incident
to the journey. To aid in the defense of the sacred
places, a military order, pledged to monastic vows
and to fight for the Christian possessions in the

152 GREAT MEN OF THE CHRISTIAN CHURCH
Orient, the Templars, was organized in 111,8; and
soon after 1130 a brotherhood founded for the care
of the ill in Jerusalem, the Hospitallers, or Knights
of St. John, was reorganized with a similar aim. In
1 198 the Teutonic Knights were established. These
orders attracted the gifts of hundreds at home who
could not themselves take part in a crusade, but who
could thus share in the cause as those now interested
in missions may do by the support of missionary
societies. The Holy Land was pressed hard by the Moslems.
From 1 147 to 11 49 a second great crusade under
Conrad III of Germany and Louis VII of France
sought its relief; but failed miserably in Asia Minor
and before Damascus. In October, 1187, the Mo
hammedan leader, Saladin, took Jerusalem from the
Christians who had held it since 1099. A third great
crusade, led by Frederick Barbarossa of Germany,
Philip II of France, and Richard Cceur de Lion of
England, sought to regain it ; but wholly failed. The
crusading spirit was now largely spent, though sub
sequent expeditions took place, some of them on a
large scale. None had, however, the enthusiam and
success of the First Crusade. The zeal for the Holy
Land gradually died out, and, in 1291, the Christians
lost the last of their hard-won possessions on the
mainland of Palestine.
The crusading movement was the highest exempli
fication of the Hildebrandian idea of the church.

GODFREY 153
All Christendom, aroused by the pope as its spiritual
head, should lay aside its worldly interests and strive
for the rescue of the holy places. But the appeal of
the movement was to a feeling far deeper than honor
for the papacy or obedience to its call. It was the
desire to draw near to Christ by following in his
earthly footsteps that animated such a man as God
frey to suffer and to dare. We may hold that the
Crusades showed little appreciation of the real spirit
of Christianity; but we cannot understand the Chris
tianity of their age without seeing in them a great
embodiment of the conception of the religious life
then prevalent.
Viewed narrowly in the light of what they directly
accomplished, the Crusades were a failure. They
cost the lives of thousands. They failed permanently
to hold the Holy Land. But their effect on the intel
lectual life of Europe was worth all they cost. They
broke up the isolation which had prevailed since the
Germanic invasions. They united western Europe in
a common enterprise. They opened men's eyes to
the world as they revealed the splendid cities and the
civilization of the East. They aroused Italian com
merce, and made the revived influence of that land
possible. The century and a half which followed their
beginning saw an awakening of Europe, religiously,
intellectually, and artistically, which, though much
less thorough, can only be compared with that which
took place in the closing years of the fifteenth and

154 GREAT MEN OF THE CHRISTIAN CHURCH
the first half of the sixteenth centuries, when a similar
enlargement of men's mental outlook was to be
effected by the revival of learning, the discovery of
the New World, and the opening of the sea route to
India. The beginnings of some features of this
awakening, indeed, antedated the Crusades, but all
received powerful influence from that great enter
prise. QUESTIONS
i. With whom did the idea of a crusade originate? Why
was it not then carried out ?
2. What were the causes of the Crusades ?
3. From whom, how, and when did the actual call to the
First Crusade come ? The response ?
4. What was the real share of Peter the Hermit ? What
has been ascribed to him ?
5. From what regions did the main armies come ?
6. What was the early history of Godfrey of Bouillon ?
7. What were the preparations made for the Crusade?
Describe its march. Nicaea ? Dorylaeum ? Antioch ?
8. How was the Crusade hindered by internal causes ?
9. What share did Godfrey have in the capture of Jerusa
lem? To what office was he chosen? How long did he
serve ? His death ? His character ?
10. What were the military orders ? How were they sup
ported ?
11. Were there other crusades? What was the ultimate
fate of Palestine ?
12. What do the Crusades illustrate? Their value?

GODFREY 155
ADDITIONAL READING
James M. Ludlow, The Age of the Crusades (New York, 1896).
Ephraim Emerton, Mediaeval Europe (Boston, 1894), pp. 357-
97-
G. W. Cox, The Crusades ("Epochs of History" Series)
(Boston, 1874).
Schaff (continued by David S. Schaff), History of the Christian
Church (New York, 1907), V, Pt. I, 211-307.

FRANCIS

IX
FRANCIS
. In following the experiences of a crusader such as
Godfrey one aspect of the religious life of the Middle
Ages has been considered. It would be a mistake
to suppose that the only type, or to conclude that the
churchly ideal of a Hildebrand or an Urban II, was
the only form in which religion appeared. Besides,
and not infrequently antagonistic to the largely po
litical conceptions of the popes and high clergy, there
was widely manifested a relatively simple religious
spirit that sought to find its expression in a literal
acceptance of what it believed to be Christ's com
mands and an imitation of his life. The age was
crude. Its conception of religion was ascetic; and
the only kind of imitation of Christ and the apostles
which most men could grasp was an imitation in
externals. Christ and his disciples had been poor.
"Apostolic poverty" was therefore a mark of the
truly consecrated life. He never married. The
disciples should so imitate him. He sent forth his
disciples two by two, to preach, wearing sandals,
without money, and depending on the gifts of then-
hearers for their support. So his disciples should
now go. He told them to use a fixed form of prayer.
That should constitute their only public petition. He
forbade them to swear. They should take no oaths.
iS9

160 GREAT MEN OF THE CHRISTIAN CHURCH
Probably there has never been a time when the
Sermon on the Mount and Christ's commands to the
apostles,1 interpreted in the most literal fashion,
seemed to so many earnest souls the charter of con
duct, however inferior their actual practice might be.
Nor was the feeling of Christian men different in that
age from what it is now. They and we alike desire to
imitate Christ; but we see that real imitation is like
ness of spirit. That age grasped such imitation im
perfectly. To be like him and the apostles in the
circumstances of their lives was what men could most
easily conceive.
It was evident that, if "apostolic poverty" is the
Christian ideal, the rich prelates and the monks in
wealthy cloisters were not living the Christian life.
So many thought; and the result was not merely the
inauguration of many reform movements in the
church itself, but of sects that broke or were driven
from its communion, and a widespread revival of
ancient Manichaean or Gnostic speculations with
their denunciation of all that savored of the material
world as evil.
Of these movements that most foreign to the
genius of Christianity, though holding itself Chris
tian, was known as that of the Cathari. Though
Manichaeanism, such as existed in Augustine's
time,2 probably persisted in western Christendom,
1 Matt., chaps. 5 to 7; 10:1-13; Luke 9: 1-6.
» Ante, p. 69.

FRANCIS 161
the main impulse toward Catharite views seems to
have come into France, Italy, and Germany, nearly
a century before the Crusades, from the Orient.
Like the ancient Manichaeans, the Cathari held that
the universe is the scene of eternal conflict between
two powers, the one good, the other evil. Matter is
the work of the evil power. The Old Testament is
largely his book. The good God, revealed by Christ,
is to be served spiritually, by simple worship, without
elaborate churches or ritual, and by abstinence as
far as possible from defiling contact with the world
of matter through marriage, landed possessions, or
the eating of flesh. Stimulated by the religious inter
est awakened in the crusading age, the Cathari grew
rapidly, becoming the most powerful party in many
sections of southern France, where they were known
as " Albigenses" from the city of Albi. In Italy, too,
they were strongly represented, controlling the gov
ernment of Assisi, for instance, for a time when Fran
cis was a young man. To the Roman church they
were an immense peril; and after more than half a
century of sporadic, and mostly vain, attempts to
win them back by missionary effort, they were
crushed in France by military force, through the
combined efforts of the church and the French mon
archy (1209-29). Their political collapse, in 1229,
was followed by the more complete establishment of
the Inquisition for their uprooting; and, since they
had made much use of the Bible in defense of their

162 GREAT MEN OF THE CHRISTIAN CHURCH
position, by the prohibition of the reading of trans
lations of the Scriptures.1
The Catharite movement was fundamentally hos
tile to Christianity. Not so the Waldensian. It was
simply an earnest attempt to live the Christlike life,
and intentionally within the church. Valdez, or
Waldo, was a wealthy merchant of Lyons in France.
Awakened religiously, he was moved, in 1173, by the
legends of the saints, and especially by Christ's direc
tions to the rich young man,2 to give his property to the
poor. He now obtained translations of the gospels
and some other books of the Bible, gathered a few
disciples about him, and felt himself called with his
friends to carry out Christ's injunctions to the apos
tles,3 by going throughout the country, without
money or shoes, proclaiming Christ's message and
dependent on the gifts of those to whom he preached.
He had no thought of hostility toward the ecclesias
tical authorities. Beginning this mission in 1178,
he sought the approval of Pope Alexander III, and
of the third Lateran Council at Rome in 11 79. Here
he was not judged a heretic, but he and his followers
were thought ignorant laymen and ordered not to
preach without ecclesiastical permission. To Valdez
not to preach was to disobey Christ. He persisted;
and, in 11 84, the Waldenses were excommunicated
- For scriptural excuse for this prohibition, see II Peter 3 : 16.
2 Mark 10:21.
3 Matt. 10:5-14; Luke 9:1-6.

FRANCIS 163
by Pope Lucius III. A little more than twenty years
later, Pope Innocent III, seeing the mistake of his
predecessor, tried to draw the Waldenses as a preach
ing association into the Roman church; but it was
too late. They grew and spread, being represented
not merely in eastern France but in northern Italy,
and ultimately in Germany. As they developed they
came more and more to feel that no teaching but that
of Christ was binding, and to reject all in the Roman
church for which they could not find clear scriptural
warrant. Yet they were slow in forming a church
for themselves. They consisted of an inner circle, the
society proper, bound by monastic vows, and wor
shiping by simpler services, and an outer body of
"friends" who still remained in the Roman commun
ion, but from whom the society was recruited and by
whom it was supported. Pressed by persecution, the
Waldenses were driven into the high valleys of the
Alps west of Turin, where they maintained their inde
pendence. They became fully Protestant at the
Reformation, still exist in vigor, and now that reli
gious freedom has been established in Italy, carry on
Christian work in its chief cities.
All these movements, notably that of the Waldenses,
were not merely ascetic, but semi-monastic in form.
But their monasticism differed from the older types in
two important particulars. Earlier monasticism em
phasized separation from the world. Its aim was to
seek personal salvation. Though it had engaged in

1 64 GREAT MEN OF THE CHRISTIAN CHURCH
much missionary work when established, it was es
sentially aristocratic, even if its recruits were from
all classes of society. The new movements, especi
ally that of the Waldenses, had for their aim work
for others. They affiliated with the common people.
They were fundamentally democratic. They intro
duced a new purpose into monastic life. What Valdez
attempted, and that for which he was most un
wisely driven from the Roman church, was taken up
into the service of that church by a Spaniard, Domi-
nick (1170-1221), the founder of the "Order of the
Preachers," or Dominicans, and especially by Fran
cis of Assisi, the man who in the judgment of his age
lived nearest of all men like Christ, and who was
therefore the most typical mediaeval saint. Francis,
or as he was baptized, John, Bernardone, was born in
1 182, in Assisi, a little Umbrian city, about eighty-
five miles north of Rome. His father, Peter, was a
wealthy cloth merchant. From boyhood, Francis
showed himself a leader, but at first with no intima
tion of interest in religion, for it was as a leader of the
young men of the city, associated in a kind of club
for riotous amusement, that he first won distinction.
Of learning he had comparatively little. Assisi was
distracted by quarrels between the aristocrats and
common people, and the former, being worsted in
1202, called in the aid of the citizens of Perugia, only
thirteen miles distant, but, such was the distracted
condition of Italian politics, a bitter rival of Francis'

FRANCIS 165
native town. In the battle that followed Francis
fought on the popular side, and, the Assisan forces
being beaten, he was taken a prisoner of war to
Perugia, where he remained a year. Even now he
was distinguished for his cheerfulness and courage.
His return from this imprisonment was followed by
a severe illness. Recovered, he was more earnest in
purpose than he had thus far been, but not yet deter
mined to devote himself to the Christian life, for he
now decided to seek a soldier's career in southern
Italy. He started on this quest, but only to abandon
it when a few miles from Assisi and to return to his
home. His conversion was beginning, however.
With Francis it was no sudden change, but a gradual
process. His sympathy went out to the poor. He
gave largely of his means to their relief; but even
more largely of his interest and personal help. He
cared for the sick, even for the lepers whom most
shunned. At Rome, on a pilgrimage, he borrowed a
beggar's clothes, and supplicated his food that he
might understand the lot of the unfortunate. He
meditated and prayed much in solitude. He believed
that he heard a divine call to "restore the fallen
church of God." Taking the vision literally, he sold
his horse and some pieces of cloth, and offered the
sum thus obtained to rebuild the chapel of St. Da-
mian. Francis' father had long been disgusted by
what he deemed his son's unbusiness-like ways and
had used even force to win him back. This act

1 66 GREAT MEN OF THE CHRISTIAN CHURCH
seemed to him the climax. In the quarrel that fol
lowed, Francis was summoned before the bishop, and
now formally renounced to his father not merely the
money, but his clothing, declaring that henceforth he
had no father but the Father in heaven. Men derided
him as insane, but he persisted with unabated courage.
For about two years after this event Francis la
bored with his own hands and by begging aid for the
restoration not only of St. Damian but of the Por-
tiuncula and other chapels near Assisi. In 1209, how
ever, a larger vision of his work came to him. He
heard read from the gospels that command of Christ
to the apostles to preach the good news of the King
dom which had once made such an impression on
Valdez. At once he began to put it into practice.
His message was to living men in the name of Christ.
Soon he gathered a few associates, kindled by his
enthusiasm. In a few months they grew to eleven
in number. In their " apostolic poverty " they should
go, clad only in a long robe of undyed wool bound at
the waist by a bit of rope. Two by two the new
preachers went, with singing and much expression of
happiness, not merely as those who were serving
Christ, but who found all God's creatures their
friends. This appreciation of nature as God's work,
and therefore to be loved and desired, was one of the
most remarkable of Francis' characteristics, fanciful
as was often the form in which it expressed itself.
In "brother sun" and "brother fire" he saw, no less

FRANCIS 167
than in his fellow-men, God's servants and therefore
his brethren. Among men, Francis felt that his
work was primarily for the neediest and lowliest.
His own association was of "humble" brethren, a
term that of itself implied affiliation with the lower
rather than the higher social classes. It was to the
people little in the world's regard, the poor, the sick,
the lowly, that he was to go in " apostolic poverty,"
with the message of repentance.
For this little brotherhood Francis prepared in
1209 a simple "Rule," not now existent; but con
taining little more than Christ's injunction to take up
the cross, his advice to the rich young man, and his
directions to the apostles; and, also, brief regula
tions regarding fasting, humble carriage toward all
men in imitation of Christ's humiliation, and speak
ing and living as good Catholics, for Francis was
anxious to serve the church and to recognize the
authority of its officers. With this "Rule" he and
his companions went to Pope Innocent III. It was
almost exactly the same proposal with which Valdez
had vainly approached Pope Alexander III in 1179;
but times had changed. Innocent III saw the mis
take which his predecessor had made; he had just
been engaged in trying to persuade some of the
Waldenses to return to the Roman church. Under
such circumstances it is not surprising that Francis'
fate was very unlike that of Valdez, and that Inno
cent III, most wisely, gave his approval to the

168 GREAT MEN OF THE CHRISTIAN CHURCH
work. It was still a wholly simple association of
those who would live and preach as Jesus taught;
but it was now approved by the pope (1210) and by
papal injunction had in Francis a responsible head
with whom the ecclesiastical authorities could deal.
The first step toward the Franciscan order had been
taken. In little huts grouped round the church known as
Portiuncula near Assisi the brethren had their first
headquarters. Here at each Pentecost they gathered
to relate their experiences and strengthen themselves
for their work. From this meeting the annual " gen
eral chapter" was soon to grow. But Portiuncula
was simply their center. Thence they went forth to
preach, to aid the poor, nurse the sick, and care for
the neglected. They were to help the peasants in
the fields, to work in return for food and lodging;
but to take no money, and to beg only in illness or
incapacity. It was a working, helpful association,
not a mendicant order that Francis planned.
Francis' followers rapidly multiplied, and were
not confined to his own sex. Impressed by a fiery
sermon on the duty of forsaking all to follow Christ,
a girl of eighteen, of noble lineage, Clara Scifi, dedi
cated herself to a similar work; and her vows were
received by Francis himself in the Portiuncula
church on March 18, 1212. With her the nuns of
the Franciscan order, or Clarissines, had their begin
ning. Francis himself preached widely through

FRANCIS 169
Italy, and soon his disciples were carrying his work
not merely throughout the peninsula, but to Spain,
France, Hungary, and Germany. Such a man
could not be possessed of a burning desire to bring
disciples to his Master without his heart going forth
in love to those who rejected the lordship of Christ.
Francis would lead in foreign missions. The cru
sading expedition of 12 19 to Egypt gave him his
opportunity. With eleven companions he accom
panied the army, and even preached before the
sultan, by whom his courage and sincerity were
respected. The converts from Mohammedanism
that he desired were not made— he had too little
preparation for the work — but his own consecration
of spirit was abundantly revealed. From Egypt he
visited the holy places in Palestine, and it was only
after an absence of more than a year (June, 1219, to
July, 1220) that he again saw Italy.
During this absence serious changes took place
in the association, part of which were inevitable. It
was growing rapidly. Its very popularity was a
peril to its original ideals. The simple enthusiasm
for the life of "apostolic poverty," and strict obe
dience to Christ, the motive spring of which was love,
was hard to maintain as numbers increased. The
need of organization, rules, and careful supervision
grew in proportion to the enlargement of the body.
It is always thus. The enthusiasm of the few can
be carried to the many only in greatly weakened

17° GREAT MEN OF THE CHRISTIAN CHURCH
form, and with the many, organization must attempt
to make good the defect. Then, too, the ecclesiasti
cal authorities, notably Cardinal Ugolino, the later
Pope Gregory IX, who soon became by appointment
of Pope Honorius III the "protector" of the asso
ciation, saw the possibilities of the movement as an
aid to the papacy and the advancement of the
interests of the Roman church, where its authority
had been undermined by Cathari, Waldenses, and
other "heretics." A society of three thousand mem
bers, as that of Francis had grown to be, was very
different from a little company of eleven like-minded
enthusiasts. Its development into a full monastic order went
rapidly forward. A bull of Pope Honorius III, of
September, 1220, regulated entrance, required per
petual observance of vows, and placed the monks
under the strict command of their superiors. A new
"Rule," in which Francis had some share, but on
which others labored, was issued in 122 1 ; only to be
replaced by another, prepared chiefly by Cardinal
Ugolino, two years later. This revised rule made
begging a fundamental characteristic of the order.
In it the eager reference to Christ's commands,
which marked the earlier "Rule," became a series of
relatively minute and legalistic regulations, charac
teristic of the spirit of monasticism in general. It
was more ecclesiastical, less free and fresh-spirited.
Among the brethren themselves, moreover, two tend-

FRANCIS 171
encies appeared, the one to preserve, and if any
thing to increase, the ascetic inclinations rather than
the loving spirit of the founder; the other toward a
laxer interpretation of his conception of Christlike
poverty, and an emphasis on organization, mechan
ical discipline, and the development of a great monas
tic body. Francis himself was no organizer. He
was a preacher, a lover of his fellow-men, and an
enthusiastic disciple of his Master. Elias of Cortona,
his friend and associate, possessed the administrative
talents which he lacked, without his enthusiastic
spiritual insight, and with decided inclination to the
more worldly of the two tendencies within the order
of which mention has been made. The reins had
fallen by 1220 from Francis' hands, and from 1223
Elias was the controlling spirit. The tendencies were
at work which were to lead to long-persisting quar
rels between the stricter and looser elements in the
order. Francis' last years were, therefore, filled with grief
and apprehension. He saw the ideal of his associa
tion changing. He feared the spread of worldliness
in the order. He dreaded the growth of devotion to
learning, lest the service of the poor and lowly should
be supplanted by it. He spoke forth his anxiety in
bitterness of spirit. Broken in health from the time
of his return from his mission to the East, he with
drew more and more from the activities of life. He
sang his praises to God, he prayed, he fasted, he was

172 GREAT MEN OF THE CHRISTIAN CHURCH
much alone in ecstatic meditation. In one of these
long vigils, in 1224, there appeared on his body the
marks of the Savior's wounds, constituting in his own
thought an honor similar to that which he believed
the apostle Paul to have received.1 The fact of these
"stigmata" is assured; the question of how they came
to be is more difficult. The best solution seems to lie
in that but partially understood influence of the mind,
dwelling intensely on a desired experience, on a body
enfeebled by extreme asceticism. As his end grew
near, Francis had himself carried to the vicinity of his
beloved church of Portiuncula, and in it he died in
full humility and triumphant peace on October 3,
1226. He was of his age and race in many of the
circumstances of his career; but he belongs to all the
Christian centuries in spirit, for he tried in utmost
love and humility to live the very life of Christian
discipleship as he believed Christ taught his first
followers to live it.
Much as the order which he founded departed
from his ideal, it was a great power for good in the
Roman church for more than a century after his
death, and remains in usefulness to this day. It
spread with marvelous rapidity throughout Europe,
welcomed by the common people, to whom its friars
came as preachers and as helpers. It did much for
1 Gal. 6: 17, where the reference is probably not to the wounds
Christ received on the cross, but to disfigurements resulting from
stoning at Lystra, Acts 14: 19.

FRANCIS 173
the unchurched and neglected in the cities. It pre
sented a democratic conception of monasticism, in
contrast to the essential aristocracy of the older
orders. To a large degree it was true to the prin
ciple that in work for others rather than for oneself
lies the highest value of the Christian life. For the
Roman church and the papacy the Franciscan order
was of utmost usefulness. It and the Dominican
body largely won back the popular support which
had seemed to be slipping away from the church.
They presented a type of piety that appealed to the
best men of the age. They took up into the service
of the church that which had most attracted men
in the Cathari and Waldenses, and by so doing
overcame the opposition which had given to those
"heretical" movements their chief support. They
profoundly deepened and quickened the popular
religious life. QUESTIONS
1. How did men of the twelfth century conceive of imitat
ing Christ? What did they mean by "apostolic poverty" ?
2. What was the result of this valuation of "apostolic
poverty"on men's attitude toward the rich prelates and the
wealthy monasteries? Was the period one of many sects?
3. Who were the Cathari? Their beliefs? How were
they suppressed ?
4. Who was Valdez, when did he live, how was he con
verted, and what did he attempt? How was he treated by
the Roman church ? Who were and are the Waldenses ?
5. What new methods and spirit did these protesters repre-

174 GREAT MEN OF THE CHRISTIAN CHURCH
sent, and by whom were these principles taken up into the
service of the Roman church ?
6. Outline the early life of Francis. His birthplace,
parentage, youth, captivity?
7. Describe the nature of Francis' conversion. What
spirit animated him ? What text impressed him ?
8. How did Francis conceive of the Christian life ? What
were the original purposes of his brotherhood? Its earliest
"Rule"? 9. Give some account of Clara Scifi, and of the founding
of the Clarissines.
10. How did Francis attempt to engage in foreign mis
sions? 11. How were the original ideals of Francis' association
transformed ? Was this change unavoidable ? The "Rules"
of 1221 and 1223? Francis' feeling toward these changes?
12. Francis' last years? Their occupations ? The "stig
mata"? His death? His character ?
13. The influence of the Franciscan order ?
ADDITIONAL READING
Paul Saba tier, Life of St. Francis of Assisi (English trans
lation) (New York, 1894).
J. W. Knox-Little, Saint Francis of Assisi, His Times, Life,
and Work (London, 1897).
Schaff (continued by David S. Schaff), History of the Christian
Church (New York, 1907), V, Pt. I, 379-533-

THOMAS AQUINAS

X
THOMAS AQUINAS
The consideration already given to Godfrey and
to Francis has shown something of two very unlike
aspects of the religious life of the crusading period.
With Aquinas we turn to a third feature of the age,
its theological learning. The intellectual efforts of
the Middle Ages have often been unduly belittled,
and the title given to them — that of " Scholasticism"
— interpreted so as to imply an undeserved contempt.
The aim of the schoolmen was not, indeed, a free
inquiry as to the truth or falsity of the Christian
religion, as if that were a matter open to debate.
The chief doctrines of the faith were regarded as
fixed; and the object of discussion was to show their
reasonableness and to explain their philosophic im
plications. But, under this apparent rigidity, an
immense amount of freedom of discussion was actu
ally enjoyed, objections of the most weighty character
were stated and answered, and the whole field of
systematic theology was carefully investigated. It
was a noble attempt to explain and interpret the
great doctrines of the Christian faith.
The intellectual stagnation consequent upon the
collapse of the ancient Roman world through the
Germanic invasions was nowhere more evident or
177

178 GREAT MEN OF THE CHRISTIAN CHURCH
more slowly overcome than in the domain of theologi
cal speculation. While many doctrines were modi
fied in the early Middle Ages by what may be called
the general spirit of the time, conscious discussion of
theology, as far as it existed, was essentially a repro
duction of the positions of the great teachers of the
declining Roman Empire. But with the gradual
increase of enlightenment, this branch of intel
lectual activity was stimulated also, and in the period
of the First Crusade there appeared in Anselm
(1033-1109), the Italian -born Archbishop of Canter
bury, a theologian who gave a new and influential
interpretation to the doctrine of the atonement, who
presented an impressive demonstration of the exist
ence of God, a:.d deserved to be called "the father
of the schoolmen. "
In Abelard (1079-1142), who taught in Paris,
scholasticism was represented by a great critic, whose
free handling of the current theology shocked many
of his contemporaries, but undoubtedly stimulated
inquiry by its defense of the rights of intellectual
investigation as against dependence on traditional
authority. This tendency found a vigorous oppo
nent in Bernhard of Clairvaux (1090-1153), the
greatest preacher of his age, and one of the noblest
characters of church history, whose own deep mysti
cal piety was nourished and developed by that of
Augustine, but who had a much clearer conception
of justification by faith alone than the great African

THOMAS AQUINAS 179
theologian, so that Luther was to be profoundly in
fluenced by him. It is easy to see, however, that the
desire to know truth scientifically, and to feel it
religiously — the intellectual and the mystical tend
encies — are not necessarily mutually exclusive. They
were united in Bernhard's friend Hugo of St. Victor
(1097 ?-i 141), and even more in Peter Lombard
(?-u6o?), both of whom taught in Paris. The
latter, a disciple both of Abelard and Hugo, combined
the new and the old methods in his Four Books of
Sentences so skilfully that his work held its place
as the main textbook of theological instruction till
the Reformation. A collection of authoritative ex
tracts ("sentences") from the Bible and the Fathers
was gathered, in the older fashion, but interpreted
and explained by the new philosophic discussion.
Thanks to the work of these men, the "new theology,"
as it was called, won its way, in spite of opposition;
and by the middle of the twelfth century the scho
lastic, systematic treatment of Christian truth, as
contrasted with the traditional acceptance of ancient
statements, was fully developed. A great period of
theological discussion was well begun.
Some of these teachers had been connected with
monastic or cathedral schools, others had been
independent; but in many of the cities of Europe
scholars were gathering about them and others like
them. Various studies were preferred in different
cities. Thus Paris and soon Oxford were centers

180 GREAT MEN OF THE CHRISTIAN CHURCH
of theology, Bologna of law, and Salerno of medi
cine. Shortly before 1200 a great change, however,
began. In the Middle Ages each trade in a town
was incorporated, and had its own laws and govern
ment. The whole body of teachers and scholars
in a particular community were now similarly asso
ciated, and thus the "University" came into being.
Of these probably the earliest except Bologna and
Salerno, and certainly the most famous and influ
ential, was the University of Paris, the most cele
brated seat of theology in the later Middle Ages. In
this institution, which became the model of many
similar foundations, studies were begun under the
faculty of arts, and continued under one of the three
higher faculties of theology, law, or medicine. The
universal use of Latin made it possible for teachers
and students from all nations to share in the work,
and soon the attendance was counted, in the larger
institutions, by thousands.
Contemporary with this change in instruction
through the development of universities, learning,
and especially the discussion of theology, were given
a great impetus by the revived knowledge of the
Greek philosopher, Aristotle. Studied among the
Mohammedans and Jews of Spain, Aristotle's writ
ings began to be influential by the beginning of the
thirteenth century among Christian scholars, at first
through Arabian and Jewish commentaries, and
then by direct translation. Though the influence

THOMAS AQUINAS 181
of Aristotle was looked upon with suspicion as too
rationalistic by orthodox churchmen, who represented
the traditional neo-Platonism of Augustine, his philo
sophic standpoint so approved itself that, by the
middle of the thirteenth century, it was dominant
in theologie investigation. The result was the golden
age of scholasticism, illustrated in the work of a
series of brilliant and profound thinkers, of whom
the most conspicuous were Alexander of Hales ( ?-
1245), an English-born teacher of Paris; Albertus
Magnus (1 193-1280), a German, who labored prin
cipally in Cologne; Thomas Aquinas, an Italian of
whom more will be said; Bonaventura (1221-74),
likewise an Italian, who worked much in Paris; and
Duns Scotus (1265 ?-i3o8), of English or possibly
Scottish origin, who taught in Oxford and Paris. All
the scholars just named were members of the Fran
ciscan or Dominican orders, then representing the
warmest type of religious life. All were men of
character. All regarded the Bible as the final author
ity. While they differed much among themselves, all
pursued essentially similar methods of investigation
and presentation. Of them all, Aquinas was the
first in clearness of presentation, and in the com
pleteness with which he made the Aristotelian phi
losophy subservient to the development of a great
theological explanation of Christian truth. His aim
was to show the reasonableness, naturalness, and
verity of the Christian system, as then understood,

182 GREAT MEN OF THE CHRISTIAN CHURCH
when explained in the light of the science of the age;
and in its accomplishment he showed himself not
merely the greatest theologian of the Middle Ages, but
the classic exponent of Roman Catholic doctrine to
the present day.
Thomas was born in the castle of Rocca Sicca,
near Aquino, from which place his father, Landulf,
took the title of count, in 1225 or, less probably, 1227.
Though thus Italian in origin, he was related to some
of the most eminent families of Europe. His father
was a connection of the great German imperial house
of Hohenstaufen, his mother traced her ancestry to
the Norman Tancred who distinguished himself as a
leader of the forces of southern Italy in the First
Crusade. The family was in every way one of dis
tinction, and prominent in the political conflicts be
tween the popes and emperors. Monte Cassino,
the mother monastery of the Benedictine order,1 is
only eight miles from Aquino, and thither Thomas
was sent in childhood for education. Thence he
went, while still in boyhood, to Naples; and there fell
under the influence of the Dominicans, then in the
height of their early fame. Their zeal, their scholar
ship, and their self-denial all attracted him, and the
eighteen-year-old boy determined to become a monk
of the order. His family, who hoped for him a
brilliant secular career, bitterly opposed this. He
was imprisoned, worldly inducements, even tempta-
1 Ante, p. 108.

THOMAS AQUINAS 183
tions, were employed to turn his purpose; but he
persisted, and, in 1244, he was admitted a Domini
can. His superior in the order perceived his scholas
tic promise, and soon sent him (1245) to Cologne to
have the benefit of instruction by Albertus Magnus.1
Here his large frame and silent manner made him
rather the butt of the lighter-minded of his fellow-
students, arid he was nicknamed "the dumb ox;"
but his teachers saw what was in him, and he now
went with Albertus Magnus for further study to Paris.
By 1248 he was teaching with great success as second
in the school at Cologne, and four years later estab
lished himself in Paris, where his lectures were
thronged, though the university refused to give him
full standing among its teachers of theology till 1257,
because of a jealous fear lest the mendicant orders
should thus obtain a footing in its faculty.
Such conspicuity in learning was accompanied,
however, by great modesty. Splendid ecclesiastical
posts were offered him, but Aquinas refused them
all. He never forgot that he was a member of a
preaching order, and his sermons were marked by
great simplicity, directness, and effectiveness. His
judgment was so sound and disinterested, even in
worldly matters, that his advice was sought by nobles
and princes. In all his work he sought divine
guidance by prayer, and his piety was as unaffected
as it was sincere. Summoned to Italy by Urban IV
1 Ante, p. 181.

184 GREAT MEN OF THE CHRISTIAN CHURCH
in 1 261, he taught in Rome, Pisa, Bologna, and again
in Paris, till in 1272 he became professor in the Univer
sity of Naples. Gregory X invited him to the Council
of Lyons, but the journey thither was never completed.
He died on March 7, 1274, at the age probably of
forty-nine, in the monastery of Fossa Nuova, only
a few miles from the place of his birth. He was a
noble example of the Christian scholar, humble,
prayerful, teachable, yet profoundly learned, and
universally recognized as of transcendent abilities as
a teacher and an interpreter of Christian theology.
Throughout these brief years of study, teaching,
preaching, and travel, which most men would have
found exhaustingly filled by these labors, Thomas
was constantly busy with his pen; and the fecundity
displayed is amazing, his works filling no less than
twenty-eight good-sized volumes.1 Nor is the qual
ity of his discussions less remarkable. He is the
profoundest of the mediaeval scholars, and at the
same time one of the most lucid in expression. In
ethics Thomas is ranked by good judges as second
only to Augustine in his contribution to the develop
ment of a scientific treatment of Christian morals.
In government, even in so remote a subject as trade,
his views command great historic interest. But
speculative theology was to him the crown of all
studies, and his ripest work is therefore the Summa
1 E. g., in the Venice edition of 1787. The new Roman edi
tion, begun by Leo XIII, will have twenty-five volumes.

THOMAS AQUINAS 185
theologica, his general view of the whole body of
Christian belief.
In its form the Summa is exceedingly mechanical,
some 518 questions being treated in 2,652 articles,
the discussion of each following the same order.
The proposition presented is clearly denned and de
fended by authority and argument, the objections
equally fairly stated and carefully answered. This
form, whatever its defects, had the merits of thorough
ness and full consideration of opposing views. In
his citation of authorities it is interesting to observe
that Thomas regarded nothing but the Bible, and
•that literally understood, as conclusive. All the
more striking, therefore, as showing how fully he
was under the influence of the spirit of his age, it
is that he is able to defend not only the whole
of the traditional creed, but all important parts
of contemporary churchly practice and of papal
claim. Our space will permit but a hasty glance at the
contents of this great outline of theology. The chief
end of all investigation of religious truth, Thomas
held, is to give knowledge of God, and of man's origin
and destiny. Much can be known by the use of reason
—natural theology — but full knowledge must have
a higher source. It comes only by revelation from
God himself. This revelation reason alone cannot
reach. It cannot prove or disprove it. But revela
tion contains nothing contrary to reason, and reason

186 GREAT MEN OF THE CHRISTIAN CHURCH
can show the weakness of the objections brought
against its doctrines.
This revelation, so necessary for man, is contained
in the Bible. We accept it because the divine Spirit
moves our hearts to credence as we read it, because
of the miracles by which the message was accom
panied, because of the fulfilment of prophecy which
it witnesses, and because of what it has done in the
world. Yet its acceptance is not forced on our
reason, even by these arguments, as are the demon
strations of mathematics. We believe because we
trust the character of the divine Revealer whose
Word the Bible is, and such belief is meritorious, for
it is pleasing to God thus to be trusted.
Aquinas next takes up the discussion of God's
existence and nature, the Trinity, and divine Provi
dence, holding that the latter extends to all per
sons and events, and manifests itself, among
various ways, in the predestination of some to
eternal fife, and the relegation of others to ever
lasting death.
The second part of the Summa treats of the nature
of man. He was made for the vision and enjoyment
of God; in these blessings his highest good is to be
found. But this vision and enjoyment cannot be
obtained without the possession of the three Chris
tian virtues of faith, hope, and love. The power to
exercise these virtues is not man's by nature. His
natural endowment extended to the attainment of

THOMAS AQUINAS 187
the four natural virtues, prudence, justice, courage,
and self-control; but though these bring honor and
a certain degree of happiness, so that he who prac
tices them is far worthier than he who does not, the
natural virtues are inadequate to secure the vision of
God. To enable him to practice the Christian virtues
man, as originally created, was endowed with a "su
peradded gift," a divine bestowment of power that
was in addition to his natural capacities. This gift
Adam had, and lost for himself and all his descend
ants by his sin, thus leaving them incapable of the
higher virtues. This sinful condition, this lack of
original righteousness, is original sin, and has become
the condition by his disobedience of all who are
descended from Adam.
The restoration of the lost gift, and with it the
power to attain the Christian virtues, and ultimately
to reach the blessed vision of God, is the work of
Christ. God could, indeed, have restored men with
out that sacrifice, but it did not seem fitting or wise
for him so to do. Christ, by his life and death of
humble obedience, merited grace for us; he made
satisfaction for our sins by taking their punishment
upon himself; he wrought reconciliation between us
and God. As a result of Christ's work, those who are
the recipients of its benefits are justified — an instan
taneous experience made possible by God's wholly
unmerited grace, involving faith on man's part, and
bringing with it forgiveness of sins. But, as with

188 GREAT MEN OF THE CHRISTIAN CHURCH
Augustine,1 the most important element in the work
of salvation thus begun is not the instantaneous
remission of sins, but the constant infusion after
justification of "co-operating grace," whereby the
Christian virtues — above all, love — are stimulated in
the soul. By the aid to this co-operating grace, a
Christian man is enabled to do works to which God
is pleased to attach merit, and to reward with eternal
life. Aquinas thus finds large room for a doctrine of
"works," though holding that salvation is dependent
on Christ and made possible only by the free grace
of God.
In one very important division of doctrine the
schoolmen, and notably Thomas, greatly improved the
work of Augustine in logical completeness — that of
the sacraments. Augustine had taught that men are
saved by God's grace, and yet only in the church.2
The exact connection of the two thoughts he had
failed always to make clear. They were now brought
into logical association by the doctrine that the grace
won by Christ for men comes to them exclusively
through the channel of divinely appointed sacraments
placed in the keeping of the church. In Thomas'
view, as in that of the schoolmen generally, this church
is the visible, hierarchically organized Roman body,
of which the pope is the head. Indeed, so convinced
a defender of the papacy was he that he affirmed that
1 Ante, pp. 77, 79.
a Ante, pp. 75, 76, 80.

THOMAS AQUINAS 189
submission to the pope is needful for salvation. To
the priesthood an all-important position was assigned
as the divinely appointed agents in the dispensation
of the sacraments; and in the administration, recep
tion, and due use of the sacraments the most vital
part of the religious life of the church was placed.
According to Thomas, following Peter Lombard,
the sacraments are seven in number, though not all are
received by all Christians. To the normal adult dis
ciple five would be administered, Baptism, by which
he is ingrafted into the body of Christ, and original sin
is forgiven; Confirmation, by which vows made in
one's behalf in infant baptism are made one's own,
and the graces of the Holy Spirit augmented; the
Lord's Supper, by which the disciple receives the
body and blood of Christ; Penance, by which his
lapses are healed; and Extreme Unction, by which
he is spiritually strengthened for the ordeal of death.
Of these, Baptism and the Supper are the pre-emi
nent. Two further sacraments may come to some
Christians : Marriage, and Ordination. By the lat
ter a spiritual power is imparted, notably to be the
agent through whom the miracle of Christ's presence
in the Lord's Supper is wrought. No layman pos
sesses this gift. The ordained priest, and he alone, it
is, upon whose words of . consecration God miracu
lously changes the bread and wine of the sacrament
into the body and blood of Christ.
Regarding two of these sacraments something more

190 GREAT MEN OF THE CHRISTIAN CHURCH
should be said. The Lord's Supper was to Thomas,
as it had long been to the church in general, the
highest act of worship. In it Christ is really present,
comes into fellowship with the believer, and is offered
to the Father. It is not merely a communion in
which the disciple partakes of Christ ; it is a sacrifice,
continuing that of Christ on the cross, and inclining
God to be gracious to those in whose behalf it is
offered. In it the bread and wine are changed into
the actual body and blood of Christ — a doctrine
known as " transubstantiation, " to which Thomas
gave the classic presentation.
Penance is the sacrament by which the lapses of
the believer since baptism are healed. According
to Thomas, it consists of three elements, contrition
or sincere sorrow for the sin ; confession to the priest
as the spiritual physician who can apply the appro
priate remedy and pronounce absolution; and satis
faction, by which the evil effects of the sin can be
made good. Yet this doctrine of Penance was fur
ther modified by the practice of indulgences which
had come into prominence in connection with the
Crusades, and which Thomas, though with great
caution, defends. In his exposition, the work of
Christ has more than made satisfaction for human
sin. The saints, also, have done meritorious deeds
through God's co-operating grace. Hence a treasury
of merit is laid up for the church in the sight of God,
and its cfficers can transfer something from it, on

THOMAS AQUINAS 191
proper conditions, to those who have not sufficient
merit of their own.
At their deaths the wicked pass into hell. Those
who, by faithful use of the means of grace, are fit
for heaven go thither immediately; but the mass of
mankind, who while Christian in desire, and parti
cipants in the sacraments, have followed Christ but
imperfectly, will have further purification in pur
gatory before attaining heavenly blessedness. The
church, as the body of Christ, whether on earth, in
purgatory, or in heaven, is one; and on this unity
of the church is grounded the doctrines of prayers to
the saints and for the dead. As members of the one
body the blessed in heaven are interested in the
struggling souls on earth, and those in purgatory
are not beyond the help of our intercession. The
goal of all Christian hope is heaven, and its chief joy
will consist in the vision, the comprehension, and the
enjoyment of God. Then shall we know as we are
known. Such in barest outline is the great theological
system to which Thomas gave expression. Very
little was original with him; but he gave to it its
classic form. Here and there his definitions were
altered by those who came after him. It was at
tacked in many subsidiary points by Duns Scotus
and his successors. It profoundly influenced all the
later Middle Ages. It is, for instance, the theologi
cal basis of Dante's Divine Comedy. By declaration

192 GREAT MEN OF THE CHRISTIAN CHURCH
of the late pope, Leo XIII, as recently as 1879,
Thomas' expositions of theology and philosophy have
been affirmed to be of the highest value as a guide
to Christian theology. He is, therefore, a living
force in a large portion of Christendom to the pres
ent day. QUESTIONS
1. What was the aim and significance of scholasticism ?
2. Who were Anselm? Abelard? Bernhard? Peter
Lombard ? Their efforts ?
3. How did the universities come into existence?
4. What was the influence of the revival of Aristotle ?
5. Who were some of the great schoolmen of the thirteenth
century ? To what monastic orders did they belong ? What
inference can be drawn, in general, as to their piety ? Why ?
6. Sketch the early life of Thomas Aquinas. His parent
age ? Of what order was he a member ?
7. What was Aquinas' career as a teacher? His death?
His character ?
8. What was Aquinas' productivity as a writer? His
Summa 1 Its method ?
9. What, according to Aquinas, is the object of theology?
What are the sources of theology ? Why is revelation neces
sary? Why do we believe the Bible? Why is that belief
meritorious ?
10. Wherein does Aquinas find the highest good? What
virtues are necessary for its attainment? Are they man's
by nature ? What did Adam lose ?
11. How is Adam's loss restored to man? What is the
effect of justification ? What the work of co-operating grace ?
12. What is the importance of Aquinas' treatment of the
sacraments? How many are there?

THOMAS AQUINAS 193
13. What is the value of the sacraments? The Lord's
Supper ? Penance ? Indulgences ?
14. What is his doctrine of purgatory? Of prayers to
the saints and for the dead ? Wherein is the blessedness of
heaven ?
15. What is the present significance of Aquinas ?
ADDITIONAL READING
W. J. Townsend, The Great Schoolmen of the Middle Ages
(London, 1881), pp. 199-241.
Schaff (continued by David S. Schaff), History of the Christian
Church (New York, 1907), V, Pt. I, 659-77.

JOHN WICLIF

XI
JOHN WICLIF
The fourteenth century was an epoch of great
changes. Mediaeval feudalism, with its strongly
divisive spirit, was giving way to a new national
feehng. A real sense of common unity of interest
was beginning to be felt by the peoples of France,
of England, and in a less degree of Germany. A
new power was therefore rising, that of national fife.
It speedily entered into conflict with the papacy, and
with momentous results. Though Boniface VIII
asserted the extremest papal claims, and even de
clared in essential agreement with the teachings of
Aquinas, in a bull of 1302,1 not only that the papacy
ruled all secular princes, but that obedience to the
pope is needful for salvation, he encountered the
most determined opposition of the French king,
Philip IV, and of the French people. So strong did
the newly awakened French monarchy show itself,
that from 1305 to 1377 the papacy itself left its
ancient seat at Rome, and the popes lived for the
most part in Avignon. All were Frenchmen, and
were largely subservient to French political interests.
One or two were men of low moral standards and
almost purely secular ambitions. This transfer of
1 The bull Unam sanctam ecclesiam. 197

198 GREAT MEN OF THE CHRISTIAN CHURCH
residence and submission to French influence lost
the papacy much of its prestige in the rest of Europe,
while the popes of this period carried their system
of taxation to a height heretofore unexampled. The
papacy never was more burdensome, but it had lost
the leadership and high spiritual purpose which alone
could make its burdens endurable. Men were be
ginning to criticize it from many points of view.
The Franciscans and Dominicans had lost much
of the zeal which had made them so useful in the
years following their foundation, while the popes
were supporting the looser element in them in laxer
interpretation of the "rules." The character of the
clergy was too often unworthy. ¦ Theology, which in
the teachings of Aquinas had seemed a science
solidly buttressed by philosophy, was now largely
held to be philosophically improbable, to be accepted
only because taught by the church. Religion was
not declining; but the mediaeval institutions of re
ligion were more and more showing themselves inad
equate. Earnest men, like Dante1 and William of
Occam, were opposing the claims of the papacy to
control the state; and one bold voice, that of Mar-
silius of Padua, in 1324/ questioned the whole papal
system; but they were yet relatively few, and the
mediaeval scheme of doctrine, with its great hierarch-
1 In his De monorchia.
3 In his Defensor pads, written when a professor in the Uni
versity of Paris.

JOHN WICLIF 199
ical structure, though inwardly weakened, stood ap
parently as strongly as ever.
Yet in one region of Europe, before the fourteenth
century came to a close, the most effective, if not the
most logical, critic of the papacy that had yet ap
peared was to arise and to lead in a movement for
reform of no little importance. This reformer was
John Wichf. England, thanks to its insular position
and the direct relations of its kings since the time of
William the Conqueror to the great land-holders, had
possessed an unusual sense of solidarity of interest.
The national feeling had there developed to a degree
only comparable to that of France. Under Edward
III, in 1339, England began the long war with
France, incidents of which were to be the English
victories of Crecy (1346) and Poitiers (1356). It was
at the time that the papacy had its seat at Avignon,
and was largely under French influences. Naturally
the payment of taxes to such popes, and the appoint
ment by them of their French proteges to English
ecclesiastical posts, were looked upon by a large
party in England as aids to England's enemies.
Statutes known as those of "Provisors" and "Prae
munire" were passed by Parliament, in 13 51 and
1353, intended to limit papal appointments and ap
peals to the papal courts; and, in 1366, Parliament
refused to pay to the pope the taxes granted by King
John in 12 13. It was this feeling of resistance to
what seemed foreign aggression that Wiclif was to

200 GREAT MEN OF THE CHRISTIAN CHURCH
share, and it was to be the beginning from which he
was to advance to far more radical criticisms of the
papacy. John Wiclif was born probably in the village of
Hipswell in the county of northern England known
as Yorkshire, at some unknown date which has been
conjectured to have been about 1324. Of his early
life almost nothing is known, save that he went as a
young student to Oxford, and gained great distinction
there as a scholar and a teacher. When he emerges
into the light of history it is as a man of high philo
sophical attainments, who departed from current
theological conceptions in the direction of a renewed
Augustinianism, such as Thomas of Bradwardine
(1 290-1349) had made influential at Oxford. We
shall see this in his emphasis on predestination, and
his strong sense that religion is a relation of God to
the individual human soul.
It was not merely in Oxford that Wiclif had won
distinction. In 1366 or 1367, as one of the chap
lains of Edward III, he put forth a vigorous defense
of the action of Parliament, already mentioned, in
refusing further payment of taxes to the pope. From
this publication Wiclif s open opposition to papal
encroachments may be dated. He soon followed it
with others. By 1374 he had become a doctor of
divinity. In April of that year he was nominated by
the king to the pastorate of Lutterworth, and, in
July, he was sent as a royal commissioner to treat

JOHN WICLIF 201
with the representatives of Pope Gregory XI, regard
ing the vexed question of ecclesiastical appointments
in England. He was evidently in high favor at
court. Thus far Wiclif had gone but little, if at all, farther
in his criticisms than many of the Franciscans had
done. His motives were opposition to the wealth and
corruption of the church, and patriotic resistance to
papal encroachments. His argument was curiously
mediaeval. All authority is a "lordship," a fief, held
by its possessor from God, who is overlord of all.
As a temporal fief, if misused, is forfeited, so spirit
ual lordships are vacated if not rightly employed, or
if the holder is unfit. If an ecclesiastic is of bad
character, in "mortal sin," or if he uses his office to
accumulate riches or gain temporal power, things
inconsistent with the purpose for which the ministry
was established by Christ, his "lordship" is for
feited, and may be taken from him by the civil
authorities. The enforcement of ecclesiastical claims
by spiritual penalties, which in mediaeval practice
would have followed such attempts to seize the
possessions of the clergy, is not to be feared, since
even the pope's excommunication is ineffective unless
he against whom it is directed is really deserving of
condemnation in the sight of God. Only the "law
of Christ" as laid down in the New Testament is of
final authority as a criterion of rightful action. In
its last analysis the church consists only of the "pre-

202 GREAT MEN OF THE CHRISTIAN CHURCH
destinate ;" but as they are not easily distinguished,
the practical test is apparent conformity to the
"law of Christ."
These views commended Wiclif to the favor of the
most powerful, but one of the least popular, of the
English nobles, John of Gaunt, duke of Lancaster,
fourth son of Edward III. John was without a
spark of religious sympathy with Wiclif, but he
headed a hungry party who thought to profit by de
spoiling the English church, and believed that in
Wiclif he had one whom he could use as a tool for
that purpose. John's support was to be a safeguard
to Wiclif, but the latter was too profoundly religious
to enter into real sympathy with that greedy noble's
hopes, and probably too guileless wholly to fathom
his plans. Thanks to this support, an attempt to
bring Wiclif to trial before the Convocation of the
Province of Canterbury, gathered in St. Paul's in
London in February, 1377, utterly failed, the pro
ceedings being frustrated by an angry personal en
counter in the church between John of Gaunt and the
Bishop of London. Gregory XI now issued five
bulls condemning Wiclif's opinions in the matters of
the withdrawal of property from its unworthy pos
sessors and excommunication, and comparing him
with Marsilius of Padua. But court favor still served
the reformer. Though Edward III died in June,
1377, and John of Gaunt went into temporary politi
cal eclipse, the mother of the young king, Richard II,

JOHN WICLIF 203
proved Wiclif's friend, and through her aid an
attempt of the Archbishop of Canterbury and the
Bishop of London to discipline him was frustrated
in 1378. For the next three years Wiclif was not
molested. It was during these three years of comparative
peace, apparently, that he achieved two of his great
est services. Convinced of the need of popular
preaching, as Valdez and Francis had been before,
and as John Wesley was to be in a later age, he now
began sending out "poor priests," that is, unen
dowed preachers, not necessarily clergymen, who
should proclaim the gospel in churches, in market
places, in the fields, wherever they could gather an
audience. The condition of the lower classes of
England was such as to secure them a ready hearing.
That frightful pestilence known as the "black
death"1 had ravaged England in 1348-49, 1361, and
1369, and, especially in the first attack, had been
terribly destructive. Probably half the population,
possibly more, had perished. The whole labor sit
uation was unsettled for years by the consequent
scarcity of workmen, and the attempts of Parliament
to regulate work and wages by legislation. The
lower classes of the population were in a state of
profound discontent; and they listened eagerly to
1 The same disease as that known as the "bubonic plague,"
and fatal at the present, 1908, in India. The unsanitary con
ditions of the Middle Ages made it destructive throughout Europe.

204 GREAT MEN OF THE CHRISTIAN CHURCH
Wiclif's "poor priests," whose denunciation of the
wealth and arrogance of the high clergy, and asser
tion that the "law of Christ" demanded "humility,
love, and poverty" — to quote Wiclif's own phrase —
found ready response.
To aid these preachers, and to give to the people
generally the Word of God which Wichf was con
vinced was the only final authority for the Christian,
he now undertook with his friends the translation of
the Scriptures from the Latin Vulgate into English.
It was a time of much interest in the developing
language. Sermons were being widely preached in
it. Its use had recently been established in law-
court practice. WicHf was therefore following the
spirit of the age in putting the Bible into the English
tongue. Of the greatness of his service there can be
no question. The gospels and Psalms had been
translated or paraphrased repeatedly from early
Anglo-Saxon times; but these versions had at best a
very limited circulation. The new work, especially
the New Testament which was from Wiclif's own
pen, was idiomatic, forceful, readable. He gave the
whole Bible to his nation; and, in so doing, not
merely contributed to its religious development, but
exercised a formative influence upon all subsequent
English versions of the Scriptures, and upon the
general growth of the English language.
While engaged in this work during his three years
of comparative peace, events were occurring which

JOHN WICLIF 205
caused Wiclif to advance to far more radical criti
cisms of the papacy than he had hitherto uttered.
The death of Gregory XI in 1378 found the cardinals,
a majority of whom were Frenchmen, at Rome.
The pressure of the Roman populace and other in
fluences compelled the choice of an Italian pope,
Urban VI; but that election the same cardinals re
pudiated a few months later and selected another
head for the church in the person of Clement VII,
who returned to Avignon. All Europe was distressed
at the spectacle of two rivals in office, each with about
an equal following. The French pope ultimately had
the allegiance of France, Spain, Naples, and Scotland ;
the Roman, of England, Germany, and most of Italy.
The scandalous schism thus begun was to last till
healed, after infinite labor, by the Council of Con
stance in 141 7. The sight of two popes mutually
anathematizing each other, and proclaiming cru
sades, the one against the other, turned Wichf now
fully against the papacy. Could men so un-Christ-
like in action be living rightly according to "the law
of Christ;" and if not so living, had they not for
feited their "lordship" ? He could but answer that
such popes were "vicars of Anti-christ." But he
now went farther. He criticized not the papacy only,
but the whole priestly order which drew its income
from revenues and endowments, the monks with
their landed possessions, and even the mendicant
friars, whom he had formerly favored, whose vow

206 GREAT MEN OF THE CHRISTIAN CHURCH
of poverty was so often really ignored. Applying the
test of conformity to Scripture, Wiclif now rejected
indulgences, a treasury of good works, private con
fession, the worship of saints, pilgrimages, and pur
gatory, and asserted the spiritual equality of all
priests. Wichf s greatest breach with popular religious
conceptions was occasioned by his denial, in the
spring of 1381, of the doctrine of transubstantiation.
It aroused antagonism as almost nothing else could
have done. No belief was more widespread at the
period, and none seemed more sacred to multitudes
than the faith that when the priest pronounces the
words of consecration the elements are transformed
in their substance into the very body and blood of
Christ.1 Roman Catholic devotion still clings with
peculiar affection to this doctrine which seems to
bring Christ into vital contact with present life. To
Wichf, however, it appeared unscriptural and ir
rational. His own view was essentially that of a
spiritual presence of Christ in the sacrament which
Augustine had taught. But something more than its
supposed unscripturalness or irrationality may have
led Wiclif to the dangerous task of attacking transub
stantiation. He was at war with what he deemed
an un-Christlike body of clergy who were unjustly
lording over God's heritage. Their highest power,
the power no layman was believed to possess, was
1 See ante, p. 190.

JOHN WICLIF 207
that on their consecrating act, the miracle of transub
stantiation is wrought. Deny that miracle, and the
chief distinction between clergy and laity, the main
spiritual buttress of clerical claims, is swept away.1
This attack by Wiclif cost him many friends.
The University of Oxford condemned his opinions,
though, such was the esteem in which he was there
held, without mentioning his name. Even untheo-
logical John of Gaunt urged him to silence. Within
a few weeks, however, a great disaster overtook the
Wiclifian cause — a disaster for which Wichf was only
in remote degree responsible. The years-long discon
tent of the lower classes has already been mentioned.2
In June, 1381, it flared up in a terrible insurrection
directed against what the peasants deemed the forces
of oppression. Deeds and mortgages were burned,
lawyers killed, the inns of court at the Temple in
London and John of Gaunt's palace were destroyed,
the Archbishop of Canterbury and some of the king's
leading agents in the collection of taxes were mur
dered. King Richard II, himself, was in great peril.
Fierce as it was, the storm soon passed; but the
nobles were ruthless in their acts of repression and the
feehng was widespread that Wiclif's attacks on the
clergy, and especially the preaching of his "poor
priests," were responsible for the disorder. Some
1 The suggestion is that of R. L. Poole, Wycliffe and Move
ments for Reform, p. 104.
" Ante, p. 203.

208 GREAT MEN OF THE CHRISTIAN CHURCH
influence may have come from Wichf s preachers,
though he himself had no direct share in the revolt;
but the movement as a whole was due to the working
of long-standing economic grievances.
The discredit into which the peasant revolt
brought Wiclif's cause for the time being embold
ened his enemies, and in May, 1382, his doctrines
were condemned by a synod held in London. His
popularity remained too great, however, for success
ful personal attack. He wrote much in vigorous
English tracts and in Latin. He pushed forward the
cause he had at heart to his utmost. It was while in
his own church at Lutterworth on December 28,
1384, that he suffered the paralytic stroke from
which he died three days later.
Wichf s chief characteristic was moral earnest
ness. He was a patriot anxious to save England
from foreign tyranny; but even more he was a Chris
tian intent on advancing the Kingdom of God. He
broke with the current religious system on many
points. He rejected the papacy, at least of such
popes as were then in power, denounced the wealth
of the clergy, criticized the monks, rejected transub
stantiation, urged preaching, proclaimed the unique
authority of the Scriptures, gave England the Bible
in its own tongue. He evidently regarded vital re
ligion as an inward and personal experience. His
view of it was far deeper than that of most men of
his age. These are great services; but they hardly

JOHN WICLIF 209
entitle him to be called, as he has often been styled,
"the morning-star of the Reformation." His con
ceptions of rehgion, however profound, were the
famihar mediaeval Roman Catholic thoughts of
ascetic "apostohc poverty," and of the gospel as a
"new law." He had no new theory of the way of
salvation, or of Christ's relations to men, to offer.
Hence he was no Luther. Rather he was one of the
most radical and deserving of the mediaeval reform
ers — a man who belonged to the Middle Ages, not to
the new day.
This failure to give to his age that which was
vitally new probably accounts for the surprising
fruitlessness of his movement in England. At his
death he had a large following, and on the whole
royal tolerance made easy the path of his party till
the downfall of Richard II in 1399. No church was
founded, however. On the accession of John of
Gaunt's son, Henry IV, first of the House of Lan
caster, the royal policy was changed to one of perse
cution. The political significance of the " Lollards,"
as Wichf's followers were called, ended with the
execution of their leader, Sir John Oldcastle, in 1417,
and their religious importance did not long survive.
The one lasting influence of the movement in Eng
land was the impulse which it undoubtedly gave to
the reading of the Bible; and the number of manu
scripts of Wiclif's translation which have survived,
in spite of attempts to destroy them, is remarkable.

210 GREAT MEN OF THE CHRISTIAN CHURCH
In one remote region of Europe, however, Wiclif's
work was to have a powerful influence. The Bo
hemian reformer, John Huss, did little more doc-
trinally than reproduce Wichf's opinions, often in
Wichf's very words. More conservative intellectu
ally, Huss did not share Wiclif's rejection of transub
stantiation. Unlike Wiclif, he urged the right of the
laity to partake of the wine as well as of the bread in
communion. In conduct Huss was much more a
man of action than Wiclif. A teacher in the Uni
versity of Prague from 1398 onward, he became, in
1402, the preacher of the Bethlehem church in that
city. During the reign of Richard II of England,
whose queen was a Bohemian princess, many Bo
hemian students had been attracted to Oxford and
had returned with Wiclif's writings. Of these Huss
made a thorough study. They appealed to his Bo
hemian patriotism by reason of their rejection of
foreign authority, and soon to his religious spirit by
their bold criticism of the evils of the age. To him,
as to Wichf, Christ is the sole head of the church,1
only the "predestinate" are its members, and all
ministers are essentially equal in spiritual powers. In
sermons of great popular influence Huss denounced
the corruption of the Bohemian clergy, and advo
cated Wiclifian positions. The Bohemian element
1 Too much must not be made of this as a "Protestant"
declaration. Even so good a churchman as Pierre d'Ailli, who
was a leader in Huss's condemnation at Constance, taught the
headship of Christ in the most explicit terms.

JOHN WICLIF 211
in the University and city of Prague largely sympa
thized with him, and through his influence a decree
was obtained from King Wenzel, by which the Bo
hemians, though a decided minority, were given a
controlhng influence in the University. The result
was that Huss became the chief power in that seat of
learning, while the disgruntled Germans and other
foreigners regarded it as unorthodox and established,
in 1409, the University of Leipzig.
These events led to a breach between Huss and
his archbishop, and in 1410 he was excommunicated
for Wiclifianism. The contest was now fully on,
and Huss enjoyed large popular support as well as
the somewhat fickle favor of King Wenzel. The
situation attracted European attention, and the em
peror Sigismund now summoned Huss to appear be
fore the great general Council of Constance, which
had been called, primarily, through the work of the
leading theologians of the University of Paris, to heal
the schism and effect reforms in the church. Thither
he went, protected, as he certainly supposed, by a
safe conduct from the emperor. He was, however,
promptly imprisoned, and a pitiful contest ensued.
On May 4, 1415, the council condemned Wiclif's
views, and ordered his body cast out of consecrated
ground. It urged Huss to yield his opinions to its
authority. The leaders of the church sincerely felt
not only that a council was wiser than any individual
in the church, but that only by the recognition of the

212 GREAT MEN OF THE CHRISTIAN CHURCH
duty of all Christians to submit their private con
victions to its authority could they rid the church of
its rival popes and end the scandal of the schism.
To allow Huss to assert his judgment against that of
the council would be to lose all that the council had
won for church unity. They were perfectly honest
in this position. But Huss was equally sincere. He
would play no tricks with his conscience. He would
not deny what he believed to be the truth even when
the council declared him in error. It was a contest
of opposing principles, and the future was with Huss,
for the principle for which he stood was essentially
the right of private judgment which Protestantism
was to assert. Firm in his opinions, he was con
demned by the council as a heretic, and on July 6,
1 41 5, was burned at Constance, meeting his death
with heroic firmness and Christian courage.
In Bohemia Huss was regarded as a national hero.
A large part of its population openly supported his
cause, and, in 1419, the terrible civil wars began. The
Hussites gradually divided into conservative and
radical parties, and the latter was nearly extinguished
in battle, in 1434; but its remnants survived. Out
of some of them, and of others influenced by Walden-
sian views, which had long found a following in Bo
hemia, the Unitas Fratrum came into being soon after
the middle of the fifteenth century. This communion
was much modified by the influence of the Lutheran
reformation; but it is the spiritual ancestor of the

JOHN WICLIF 213
modern Moravians. Thus Wiclif's influence long
survived, in modified form, in a land which he never
saw and which was far from that in which he did his
work. QUESTIONS
1. What influence had the rise of the national spirit on
the fortunes of the papacy?
2. How came the papacy to transfer its seat to Avignon
and how long did it remain there ?
3. Who were some of the opponents of extreme papal
claims ?
4. What evidences of opposition to the papacy are to be
found in England under Edward III ?
5. Sketch Wiclif's early life. When and how did he come
to oppose the papacy ?
6. What was his theory of " lordship " ? When did a
clergyman forfeit his office ?
7. Sketch Wiclif's relations to John of Gaunt. Why ?
8. What condition of the lower orders favored Wiclif's
work? 9. Speak of his "poor priests" and of his translation of the
Bible. Its importance ?
10. What effect had the papal schism on Wiclif? To
what new positions did he advance after 1378?
11. What were the reasons for Wiclif's rejection of tran-
substantiation ? What was its effect ?
12. What consequences for Wiclif's work had the great
peasant rising of 1381 ?
13. Wiclif's last days? His character? Was he "the
morning star of the Reformation" ?
14. Was Wiclif's work permanent in England? Where
was it fruitful ?

214 GREAT MEN OF THE CHRISTIAN CHURCH
15. Outline the career of John Huss. How did he re
semble and how did he differ from Wiclif ?
16. When, how, and for what did Huss die ? The results
of his work ? ADDITIONAL READING
G. V. Lechler, John Wiclif and His English Precursors (Lon
don, 1878, 1881, 1884).
Johann Loserth, Wiclif and Huss (London, 1885).
Rudolf Buddensieg, Wiclif, Patriot and Reformer (London,
1884).
R. L. Poole, Wycliffe and Movements for Reform (London,
1889).
Lewis Sergeant, John Wyclif (New York, 1893).
J. F. Hurst, History of the Christian Church (Cincinnati,
1897), II, 12-42.

MARTIN LUTHER

XII
MARTIN LUTHER
The period from Wiclif to Luther was one of
great modification of mediaeval conditions of civil
life and habits of thought. The tendency toward
national unity, already noted, had increased, and to
England and France, Spain was now added as the
most forceful sister in the family of nations. In
Germany no such unity existed ; but even there strong
principalities, like Saxony, Hesse, Brandenburg, and
Bavaria, were building within the Empire. The dis
covery of a New World, and of the sea route to India,
had immensely widened men's geographical knowl
edge and spread wide a vague feehng that they stood
on the threshold of a new age. The revival of learn
ing had given to the educated world a new point of
view, in which interest in the thought of Greece and
Rome displaced the influence of scholastic theology.
It was essentially a " returnjo the sources ; " and was
leading to a re-examination of that which the Middle
Ages had accepted as authoritative — a re-examina
tion that was slowly beginning to be applied even in
the realm of religious thought. In political admin
istration the layman was wresting his old-time pre
eminence from the ecclesiastic. A new individualism
was taking the place of the strong corporate feeling
217

218 GREAT MEN OF THE CHRISTIAN CHURCH
of the Middle Ages. The world was in ferment to a
degree that had not before been manifested since the
downfall of the Roman Empire.
In the religious realm the situation was at once
discouraging and hopeful. The institutions of re
hgion had become increasingly corrupt and ineffi
cient. The slowly growing sense of the need of re
form in the administration not merely of the papacy
but of the church in general had found expression,
stimulated by the scandal of the papal schism, in the
great Councils of Pisa (1409) ; of Constance (1414-18),
when the schism was ended and Huss condemned;1
and of Basel (1431-49). These had attempted to
change the papacy from an absolute to a constitu
tional spiritual monarchy, controlled by councils as a
king is by a parliament. The effort had been an
ignominious failure. The church could not be re
formed without revolution. In the period following
the collapse of the conciliar movement the popes
became more and more engrossed in Italian secular
pohtics. Their spiritual interests were largely neg
lected. But the taxation imposed by the papacy had
been rising for a century and a half. The introduc
tion of new means of money raising had been fre
quent, and the exactions of the Roman court, to
which a revenue flowed far greater than that of any "
contemporary king, were the scandal of Europe.
Indeed, so notorious were they, and so widely were
1 Ante, pp. 211, 212.

MARTIN LUTHER 219
they the object of hatred, that many scholars are
inclined to see in them the principal root of the Refor
mation. This view, however, fails to do justice to
the religious nature of the movement, though it
accounts for a large part of Luther's early support.
Corruption at the head led of course to much similar
inefficiency in the lower officers of the great hierarch
ical edifice.
On the other hand, there were many signs of a
deepening popular religious life. In Spain, under
Ferdinand, Isabella, and Cardinal Ximenes, a very
thoroughgoing movement for the improvement of the
morals and education of the clergy, without any favor
toward doctrinal changes, however, was in progress
from 1479 onward. Similar, though less extensive,
efforts were made a little later in England. In Ger
many, the Bible was being widely read by laymen,
no less than fourteen editions in the language of the
people being printed between 1466 and 1520, while
the gospels and epistles in German were issued
twenty-five times before 15 18. Preaching was being
encouraged. The religious orders were undergoing
a reformation, in which none shared more conspicu
ously than that of the Augustinians of which Luther
was to be a member. There is much evidence of the
existence of a simple, heartfelt religious life among the
people, and several German governments were even
taking steps to improve the clergy and do away with
some of the worst abuses. Indeed, the last years of

220 GREAT MEN OF THE CHRISTIAN CHURCH
the fifteenth and the opening of the sixteenth cen
turies were witnessing what can be called nothing
less than a revival of rehgion in Germany. Its
dominant notes seem to have a sense of sin and fear
of divine judgment, and it led, as men's tempera
ments inclined, to increased devotion to relics, pil
grimages, and indulgences, which were never more
popular," or to more heartfelt and inward evidences
of piety. Luther's work was not an awakening out
of spiritual deadness. It was made possible by an
immense antecedent quickening of popular religious
feehng. To note this is, however, to detract in no
way from his world-transforming significance.
Martin Luther was born in Eisleben, in central
Germany, on November 10, 1483. His parents were
peasants. His father was a miner. Both were strict,
hard-working, God-fearing people; and of energy
and ambition, anxious that their son should have an
education and be better placed in the world than
they. In 1497, therefore, the boy was sent to school
in Magdeburg, and from 1498 to 1501 in Eisenach,
where he was befriended by Frau Ursula Cotta. In
the year last mentioned he entered the University of
Erfurt, from which he graduated as "Master of
Arts" in 1505, after a student career of high credit
from the standpoints of sociability, scholarship, and
character. His father intended him for a lawyer.
In spite of his cheerful companionableness, however,
the sense of his personal unworthiness in the sight of

MARTIN LUTHER 221
God weighed heavily upon him. The question,
" How may I gain a gracious God ? " which may be
called the ground note of the contemporary German
rehgious revival, burdened him. In spite of his fath
er's opposition, he determined to seek spiritual peace
in the monastic fife, and on July 17, 1505, entered the
Augustinian monastery in Erfurt.
Yet the wished-for rest of soul did not come. He
studied, he prayed, he practiced monastic austeri
ties, he was looked upon by his associates as a
pattern of monastic piety, but he felt that he was
wrong in the sight of God. He viewed Christ as a
stern judge. But gradually his conversation with
some of the earnest men of the order, notably Johann
von Staupitz, and his reading of Bernhard, Augus-
tihe^and especially of the Pauline epistles, brought
him to a new point of view. By 1507 or 1508, he had
come to feel that these external efforts after righteous
ness in the sight of God were valueless; and that
justification is a_divine gift received through "faith"
alone. The soul throws itself in trustful confidence
on God's promises, and enters thereby into a new
relationship through Christ — a relationship imme
diate, personal, and full of good-will on God's part.
Rehgion, in his new-found experience, was not an
obedient conformity to a great corporate system of
hfe and worship, but a new and personal relation
to God, which took as one's own all that Christ
offered, and from which the Christian virtues should

222 GREAT MEN OF THE CHRISTIAN CHURCH
naturally flow. God gives everything. Man trust
fully receives. This conception was not absolutely
new. It had been apprehended, none too clearly to
be sure, by many of the most spiritual-minded men
of the Middle Ages. But they had not drawn its full
consequences. They had combined it, as Augustine
did, with inconsistent ecclesiastical theories. As
Luther now apprehended it, it was a complete breach
with current official interpretations of the gospel.
It was essentially a revival of the largely forgotten
Pauline conception of the way of salvation. It was
to be the mainspring of all Luther's later work.
Salvation was to him henceforth not something pain
fully to be won ; it was a present, certain experience,
based on an undoubting acceptance of the promises
of the gospel. In a word, it was a new life of union
with God through Christ. He who has this new life
must be "saved."1
This fresh, Pauline, religious conception of the
way of salvation placed Luther far in advance, not
merely of mediaeval reformers like Wiclif and Huss,
but of the great men of the ancient church. But
Luther was naturally a conservative, and it was long
after his apprehension of justification by faith alone
before he realized its full consequences or broke with
the mediaeval hierarchical system. In 1507 he was
made a priest; 1508 saw his transfer to Wittenberg,
1 In this and other paragraphs of this sketch I have taken
some sentences from my The Reformation.

MARTIN LUTHER 223
thenceforth to be his home, and the beginning of an
influential professorship in the little, recently founded
and weak university there situated. He rose to
prominence in the Augustinian order, was sent to
Rome on its business in 151 1, and became superin
tendent of a group of its monasteries in 1 5 1 5 . Mean
while, he attained the degree of Doctor of Theology
in 1512, his expositions of the Bible in the classroom
soon began to attract attention, and his own thinking,
under the influence of Augustine and of the German
mystics, by 15 16 had broken with the Aristotelian
explanations of theology which had been character
istic of scholasticism. He was winning great popular
approval as a preacher.
Convinced as he was that salvation is based on
a new personal relation with God, Luther could not
but viewjgith disapproval the coming of Johann
Tetzel, in 1517, as a seller of papal indulgences, the
proceeds of which were to rebuild St. Peter's in Rome.
It was the offer of a stone to those who needed bread.
Accordingly, in strict academic custom, he posted on
the door of the castle church in Wittenberg, which
served the university as a bulletin board, ninety-five
"Theses" proposing a discussion of the value of
indulgences. The event occurred on October.31,
I5i7,jhe eve of "All Saints," when the church was
to be crowded with pilgrims. In themselves, the
theses were very moderate; but they held that peni
tence is not an act done once for all, but a lifelong

224 GREAT MEN OF THE CHRISTIAN CHURCH
state of the soul ; that the real treasury of the church
is not one of good works, but the gospel of God's
grace; and that every Christian who feels true com
punction for his sins has full remission of punishment
and guilt. In the existing state of heated opposition
to the financial exactions of the Roman court the
theses attracted immediate attention throughout Ger
many. Their effect was far greater than Luther
could have anticipated. He had spoken in opposition
to the system, and was at once a marked man. Its
effect on the sale of indulgences was immediate. Of
course Tetzel replied at once, but more powerful
defenders of indulgences appeared, chief of whom
was the brilliant Johann Maier of Eck, and a Roman
Dominican, "Master of the Sacred Palace," Prierias,
who affirmed the infalhbihty of the pope, in whom
he declared the church to be virtually embodied, and
declared that whatever the Roman church does is
right. Luther had wished no -quarrel- with^the
papacy; but he now, in 1 518, took up the..battle_with
Prierias, asserting the infalhbihty of the Word of
God, and denying that the pope, is 5frtu_ally-_the
church. The struggle was assuming vastly larger
dimensions. It was changing from a question of the
misuse of indulgences to that of the power of the
papacy, and of the hierarchical system of which the
papacy was the crown.
A summons to Rome for trial reached Luther in
August, 1 5 18, and he would undoubtedly have had to

MARTIN LUTHER 225
go to his death, had he not been protected by the
favor of Elector Friedrich of Saxony, his sovereign,
who, though in slight sympathy with Luther's re
hgious position, was proud of his reputation and work
in the University of Wittenberg. Friedrich was of
pohtical importance for Pope Leo X. The matter
was" compromised. Luther appeared before the
pope's representative, Cardinal Cajetan, at Augsburg
in_Oxtaber, jj>i8 ; but was ordered to submit. In
stead, he issued an appeal to a general council,
though without real hope that the appeal would be
heard, and in expectation of speedy death. His
courage never shone out more, conspicuously. But
politics still counseled th,e pope to compromise, and
Luther finally agreed, in January, 15 19, to submit
the questions to a German bishop, and pending the
decision to remain silent, provided his opponents
would refrain from controversy. This was impos
sible, and on July 4, 15 19, Luther found Joimself .face
to face with Eck in a momentous discussion ~at
Leipzig, In his studies preparatory to this debate
Luther had made a great advance in the clear appre
hension of the consequences of his earlier positions.
He had come to the conclusion that the supremacy
of the papacy was not merely unnecessary, but was
based on many false pretenses and of comparatively
recent origin. He had also made up his mind that
the seat of ecclesiastical power is the church, not its
officers, and that the church is the whole number of

226 GREAT MEN OF THE CHRISTIAN CHURCH
Christian believers, not the hierarchy. With these
convictions Luther entered the discussion. Eck
was a most skilful debater, and soon showed that
many of Luther's positions were those of Huss, who
had been condemned by the Council of Constance.
It was a moment of decision for Luther. He had
doubted the authority of the papacy, but to deny the
infalhbihty of a general council was to break with.ail
mediaeval orthodoxy. It was to break with the
whole hierarchical system. It left the sole ultimate
authority the Scriptures; and that the Scriptures
interpreted by private judgment, since it was in
reliance on his own judgment that Luther decided
that a general council had erred. Yet .he. did not-
shrink from the step. His breach with the mediaeval
system was now complete.
Luther's bold stand won him the hearty suppoit
of all in Germany who looked in any way with dis
favor on the papacy. By many he was regarded as
a national-hero; and he now began to. look uponjuj
own work as a national struggle for freedom from the
papacy and all that the papal system represented.
Eck hastened to Rome to secure Luther's .caademna-
tion as a heretic. In anticipation of its coming and
effect Luther now issued two powerful revolutionary
treatises of the highest importance. In Augusty-t^o,
he put forth in German his appeal To the ChrJstianr-
Nobles of the German Nation. He called upon the
rulers to redress megfievances from which Germany

MARTIN LUTHER 227
had long suffered and to take the renovation of the
church into their own hands. The spiritual claims
of a special priesthood to stand between the layman
and God are worthless. God is approachable by
all without priestly intervention — a doctrine which
swept away the superstitious fear of priestly power
which gave its chief strength to the hierarchy of the
Middle Ages. " All Christians are truly of the spir
itual estate, and there is no difference among them
save of office alone." The pope has no monopoly in
the interpretation of Scripture or of the summoning
of general councils. All honest occupations have on
them the divine blessing, and the religious life may be
lived in them as truly as in monasticism. A German
national church should be guided by a primate of
Germany; ministers should be chosen by the com
munities they serve; priestly cehbacy should no
longer be required ; monasticism should be restricted,
and the proper care of the poor be secured.
Two months later, Luther issued an appeal to the
learned in Latin — his Babylonish Captivity. That
bondage he finds in the mediaeval conception of the
sacraments. Their number has been exaggerated,
their efficacy made magical. Baptism and the Sup
per — which is no sacrifice offered by the priest to
God — are witnesses to and attestations of the divine
promise of forgiveness. Hence their value is re
ceived by faith only. They evidence to us the truth
of God's promises.

228 GREAT MEN OF THE CHRISTIAN CHURCH
Yet such was Luther's inward calmness of spirit,
that even in these stormy weeks he could write a
third greatjract, published in November, 1520—
his Christiqn^Liberty. It is an untroubled exposi
tion of~his faith, as illustrated in the great paradox
of Christian experience: "A Christian man is the
most free lord of all and subject to none; a Christian
man is the most dutiful servant of all and subject to
everyone." He is free because justified by faith and
united with Christ; he is a servant through love,
because he must bring his body into subjection to
his regenerated spirit and aid his fellow-men. "A
Christian man does not live in himself, but in Christ
and in his neighbor, or else is no Christian; in
Christ by faith, in his neighbor by love."
The papal bull ordering Luther to make his peace
within sixty days or suffer the penalties of a heretic
was now in Germany, and Luther answered it
by a dramatic act. On December 10, at Witten
berg, with the"consenting presence of his colleagues,
fellow-townsmen, and students, he burned it, with
copies of the papal decretals and canon law. Such
an act evidently put a section of Saxony into rebellion
against the existing ecclesiastical constitution of Ger
many, and could not fail to come to the cognizance
of the Reichstag. Accordingly, after long discussion,
a command and safe-conduct from the Emperor,
Charles V, ordered him to appear beforeit inJWojms
to declare in what measure he still maintained the

MARTIN LUTHER 229
positions advanced in his books. On April 17 and
18, 1521, he appeared before that august parhament.
It is well-nigh impossible for one of this age to con
ceive the^couragewhich such a task demanded.
Could he, a peasant's son, maintain his independence
in the face of the spiritual and temporal rulers of
his nation? Was he sure enough of himself to
affirm that his own conscientious conviction of the
truth of God was more to be rehed on than the
declarations of the great representative gatherings of
Christendom which men generally believed to have
been spoken by the power of the Holy Ghost ? He
was unshaken in his cause. Before the assembly he
refused to recant, and declared that he could not do
so unless refuted by scriptural testimonies or clear
arguments. It was the most heroic moment of his
courageousJife. On May 26 Charles V signed the Edict of Worms
declaring Luther an outlaw to be seized for punish
ment; but fortunately, Friedrich still favored him,
and for Jns protection had Luther seized as he
journeyed homeward and hidden in the castle
known as the Wartburg, near Eisenach. In this
safe retreat he hved for eleven months, a period
distinguished for his translations of the New Testa
ment into German. As has already been pointed
out1 this was far from the first German transla
tion; but it was fresh, idiomatic, and readable. Its
1 Ante, p. 219.

230 GREAT MEN OF THE CHRISTIAN CHURCH
effect on the popular rehgious life was almost im
measurable. Thus far Luther had been steadilj growing as a
national leader supported by most various classes
of Germany. To these years belong his best work,
his new, deeply religious appreciation of the way of
salvation; his free trust in the universal priesthood
of behevers, his fresh and suggestive examination and
valuation of Scripture in proportion as it taught
clearly or imperfectly the doctrine of justification by
faith. But from his return from the .Wartburg to.
Wittenberg, in March, 1522, without any alteration
in his doctrine of salvation, his position changed grad
ually, by force of circumstances, to that of a party
leader? The vision of a universally purified church,
or even of a united Germany, slowly faded, because
it proved impossible of realization, and to some
extent because of his own conservative fears. That
return was compelled by disorders in Wittenberg,
which he mastered, but which led to the separation of
his more radical followers. Worse by far was the
divisive effect of the great peasant reyoJt__o_f__i524
and 1525. In it he took the side of the nobihty who
crushed it in blood. Probably in no other way
could he have kept their important favor for his
cause, and he was thoroughly honest in his attitude.
But the results were most unfortunate. Much of
Germany charged the revolt to his teaching, and
swung back toward the older church; and he him-

MARTIN LUTHER 231
self came to distrust the common man and to feel
that all effective reform must be the work of the
princes. The same years also witnessed his. dispute
with_Erasmus, and the separation of many of the
scholars from his movement. In 1529 came his
doctrinal rupture with Zwingli and the leaders of the
Swiss reformation at the Marburg Colloquy.
Of the steps by which the Lutheran movement
became the Lutheran churches our space will not
allow us to speak at length. The year 1526 saw the
beginnings of the organization of territorial churches
by the rulers of evangelical sympathies. Three
years later the protest of these leaders against reac
tionary Roman Catholic policies in the Reichstag of
Speyer fixed the name "Protestant" permanently on
the party. In J530, they presented their creed to the
Emperor and Reichstag at Augsburg — the Augsburg
Confession. Then followed a quarter of a century
of pohtical, and at times military, contest, a period
marked by the rapid territorial expansion of the
Protestant movement, till by the Peace of Augsburg,
in 1555, the Lutherans were recognized as religious
bodies having equal rights with the Roman-Catholics,.
of the Empire.
In the spiritual battles of this contest Luther bore
his full part, assisted by his friend the noble-minded
Philip Melanchthon, till his death at Eisleben, the
place of his birth, on February 18, 1546. The work
far outgrew the power of any one man to direct it;

232 GREAT MEN OF THE CHRISTIAN CHURCH
but as long as he lived he was the foremost figure in
his native land, and no son of Germany has been so
honored in memory as he.
Luther's work brought Protestantism into being.
It had many aspects; but a few of its more signifi
cant rehgious results may be enumerated. Fore
most of all it placed in men's minds the conception
of the Christian life as a new personal relationship
between the soul and God through Christ. Not
membership in a great corporation and obedience to
its laws, not even nourishment by its sacraments —
though Luther greatly valued the sacraments as
witnesses to God's promises — are the important
things. The one essential is a new and vital rela
tionship to God. Hence saintly intercession or
priestly intermediaries are all needless. God gives
his gifts and himself directly to the wilhng soul. A
second great result was the fruit of the principles
just described. Luther taught the universal priest
hood of Christians. The clergy are a ministry who
serve by preaching, by guidance, by leadership in the
sacraments; they are not a priesthood divinely em
powered with authority no layman possesses. In
case of need any Christian can be chosen by his
fellows their minister. This view swept away the
claims of the whole mediaeval hierarchy, either as
dispensers of divine grace or as exclusive interpreters
of the Word of God. A third feature of his work, of
equal significance, was Luther's insistence that the
ordinary natural relations of family and society afford

MARTIN LUTHER 233
the highest opportunities for Christian living. Not
in celibacy, or monastic separation from the world,
but in its duties and normal relations, is Christian
service to be sought. To this vastly important doc
trine Luther gave the sanction of his own example
by his marriage, on June 13, 1525, to an ex-nun,
Catherine von Bora; and in his family hfe some of
the most attractive traits of his character appeared.
Less important, probably, but of much significance,
were Luther's insistence that worship should be in
language understood by the people, his exaltation
of the exposition of the Word of God as its central
feature, and his vindication for laymen of a share in
the government of the church. When every allow
ance possible has been made for the tendencies of the
age which he embodied, and which might conceiva
bly have found other leaders, he still remains one of
the few men of whom it may be said that the history
of the church has been profoundly modified for all
subsequent time to the present by his hfe and work.
Protestantism is his monument and his permanent
debtor. QUESTIONS
1. What tendencies were at work in popular thought on
the eve of the Reformation ?
2. What criticisms of papal abuses were rife ?
3. Were there evidences of reformatory zeal and deepen
ing religious feeling ?
4. Speak of Luther's parentage, birth, and rank in life.
What were the circumstances of his education ? Why did he
enter a monastery ?

234 GREAT MEN OF THE CHRISTIAN CHURCH
5. How did Luther seek spiritual peace? What did he
mean by "justification by faith alone"? Value to him of
this experience ?
6. Did Luther immediately become a reformer ? What was
his history from 1507 to 15 17 ? Where was he a professor?
7. How and why did he protest against the abuse of indul
gences? The effect of this protest? How did the scope
of the controversy enlarge through Prierias' attack?
8. What was the importance for Luther's development of
his discussion with Eck at Leipzig ? To what clearer views
did it bring him ?
9. What were his great controversial tracts of 1520?
What was their argument ?
10. What was his tract on Christian Liberty?
11. How did Luther treat the pope's bull of condemnation ?
Consequences of the action? His appearance before the
Reichstag of Worms ? Its significance ?
12. What action was taken by the emperor against Luther ?
How did he escape its consequences? How did he employ
his sojourn in the Wartburg ?
13. What change of position was forced on Luther by the
development of the Reformation after his return from the
Wartburg ? His death ?
14. What were the main results of Luther's work? His
significance in Christian history ?
ADDITIONAL READING
Philip Schaff, History of the Christian Church (New York,
1888), VI, 94-744.
Henry E. Jacobs, Martin Luther (New York, 1898).
Williston Walker, The Reformation (New York, 1900), pp.
71-146, 181-224.
Thomas M. Lindsay, A History of the Reformation (New York,
1906), Vol. I.

JOHN CALVIN

XIII
JOHN CALVIN
Contemporary with much of Luther's work,
though later in its initiation, an independent and
more radical reformatory movement ran its course
in Switzerland. Its leader was Ulrich Zwingh. Born
in Wildhaus, on January i, 1484, a few weeks later
than Luther, Zwingh obtained an excellent educa
tion in the " new learning," and was in hearty sym
pathy with the humanistic feehng that men should
go back of the interpretations of the Middle Ages to
the grand sources of Christian truth, the Scriptures.
It was this impulse, rather than a profound rehgious
experience such as Luther enjoyed, that made him a
reformer. His first pastorate in Glarus, from 1506
to 15 16, was followed by more than two years in
Einsiedeln. In December, 15 18, he was called to
Zurich, and there his real reformatory work began.
By 1522 he had rejected the Lenten fast as without
scriptural support. The same year he married. In
1523 he defended in public debate the^solejmthority
of Srxjptiirp, and the immediate headship of Christ
over the church. With the support of the Zurich
magistrates the pictures, crucifixes, and images were
removed from the churches in 1524, and in 1525
the communion was substituted for the mass.
237

238 GREAT MEN OF THE CHRISTIAN CHURCH
Church services were reduced to a Puritan simplicity.
Luther, conservative by nature, held that all was
allowable in worship which the Word of God did not
expressly condemn, thus retaining many of the older
usages and adornments. The radical Zwingh felt
that nothing should be retained for which express
warrant could not be found in the Bible. Hence
Swiss worship was from the first of an unadorned
and severely intellectual character. This heritage
was to pass to the reformed churches of France,
Holland, and Scotland, and to the Puritans of Eng
land and America.
Zwingh's comparative radicalism appeared also in
his doctrine of the Lord's Supper. His rejection of
any form of the physical presence of Christ led to a
bitter controversy with Luther, and the permanent
separation of the Swiss and German reform move
ments at the Marburg Colloquy in October, 1529.
The reform movement spread rapidly in German-
speaking Switzerland. The great canton of Bern
was won for it in 1528, and that of Basel in 1529.
Appenzell, St. Gall, and Schaffhausen joined the
movement. The Zwinghan type of reformation
found support also outside of Switzerland in the
important German city of Strassburg, where Martin
Bucer (1491-1551), surpassed in influence throughout
Germany only by Luther and Melanchthon, was
disposed to sympathize with Zwingli rather than with
Luther. Controversy between the Protestant and

JOHN CALVIN 239
Cathohc cantons in Switzerland led, however, on
October 11, 1531, to a battle at Cappel between
Zurich and its Roman neighbors in which Zwingh
lost his hfe. His work was not lost, for it came
under the wise and patient leadership at Zurich of
Heinrich Bullinger (1504-75) ; and the Swiss move
ment as a whole was soon to be remodeled and given
a world-wide significance by the reformer of French
Switzerland, John Calvin.
The beginnings of the reform movement in France,
from which land Calvin was to come, were, like those
of Switzerland, closely connected with the revival
of learning. A group of scholars, of whom Jacques
Le Fevre (7-1536) was the leader in Paris and its
vicinity, were actively following the humanistic path
of study of the Scriptures and of opposition to super
stitions and abuses. These men were seeking a
warmer rehgious hfe, without thought of breaking
with the Roman church, before the fame of Luther's
struggle had spread abroad. Their work affected
many in high position, though it seems not to have
touched the common people, and, indeed, the popu
lation of France as a whole had httle of that hostihty
toward the papacy, that was widespread among the
masses in Germany. It was in this humanistic, semi-
reformatory atmosphere that Calvin's religious life
was to have its first awakening.
John Calvin was born in Noyon, a little city about
fifty-eight miles north of Paris, on July 10, 1509.

240 GREAT MEN OF THE CHRISTIAN CHURCH
He therefore belonged to the second generation of
the Reformers. His father was a self-made man,
who had risen to influence in the legal and admin
istrative service of the bishop and chapter of Noyon,
a man eagerly ambitious for his sons and anxious to
give them all the advantages in his power. Among
the boy's friends were the sons of the noble family
of Hangest, and this acquaintance doubtless gave
to him a familiarity with the ways of polite society
such as few of the Reformers enjoyed. After re
ceiving such education as Noyon permitted, Calvin
was sent, in 1523, when fourteen, to the University
of Paris, where he pursued the undergraduate course
till its completion, probably in 1528, and not merely
became master of a brilliant Latin style, but gained
much skill in logical argument. The expenses of
these student days were paid by ecclesiastical ap
pointments in and near Noyon, though Calvin never
received ordination either as a Catholic or a Protes
tant. Calvin's father had originally intended him for a
clerical career, but had now quarreled over business
matters with the chapter of the Noyon Cathedral
whose agent he was. At his father's insistence he
now turned to the study of law, in the universities of
Orleans and Bourges. Here he also engaged in the
pursuit of the Latin classics and began his acquaint
ance with Greek. The long hours of labor to which
he forced himself gave him a brilhant reputation as a

JOHN CALVIN 241
student, but permanently undermined his health,
leaving him subject thenceforth to severe attacks of
nervous dyspepsia. Throughout his student days,
however, he made many warm friendships and was
evidently much beloved by such of his companions
as shared his intimacy.
The death of his father in 153 1, when his course
as a lawyer was practically completed, left Calvin
free to carry out his own wishes. He therefore took
up residence once more in Paris as a student of the
classics, with the purpose of pursuing the scholar's
career. The fruit of these studies was his first book,
his Commentary on Seneca's Treatise on Clemency,
pubhshed in 1532. It is a marvel of classical learn
ing, the more remarkable that its author was not
yet twenty-three. It reveals a high sense of moral
values, but it shows, equally, that religious consider
ations had not yet the first place in his regard. He
was still primarily interested in questions of scholar
ship. The year following the printing of this book
was spent by Calvin in further study of law in Or
leans, but in the autumn of 1533 he was once more
in Paris, and in hearty sympathy with his friend
Nicolas Cop, whose strongly Protestant address,
delivered as rector of the university on November 1,
put that institution in turmoil. It has been alleged
that Calvin wrote the address. Of this there is no
sufficient proof; but that it voiced sentiments with
which he was in essential agreement there can be no

242 GREAT MEN OF THE CHRISTIAN CHURCH
doubt, and contemporary letters show that religion
was now uppermost in his thoughts. A great change
had come to him since he wrote his Seneca — a change
which he himself called his "conversion." Unfortu
nately the circumstances and the date of this spiritual
transformation are exceedingly obscure. It probably
took place late in 1532 or early in 1533; and it is
evident that it involved not merely spiritual enlight
enment, and a recognition of the supreme authority
of the Scriptures, but a conscious submission of
his will to that of God. In obedience to God's
will he must give up the career of scholarly quiet
that was opening so brilliantly, and court poverty
and danger. This central experience made the di
vine sovereignty always prominent in Calvin's re
hgious thought. As Luther's consciousness of relief
from the sense of guilt placed justification by faith
alone in the forefront of his convictions, so Calvin's
obedience to God's guidance, as he conceived it,
made the divine rulership a cornerstone of his later
theology. The commotion caused by Cop's address com
pelled Calvin to fly from Paris, and he now spent
some months in wandering and concealment. In
May, 1534, he was in Noyon, where he resigned his
ecclesiastical benefices from which he had thus far
drawn revenue, and was briefly imprisoned in con
nection with a tumult in one of the churches. Part
of this time of retirement was spent at Angoulfeme

JOHN CALVIN 243
as the guest of his friend, Louis du Tillet; and in
his hospitable home Calvin seems to have carried on
the studies which were, a little later, to result in the
Institutes. The outbreak of severe persecution in
the autumn of 1534, however, compelled Calvin and
du Tillet to seek refuge in the Protestant city of Basel
in northern Switzerland.
The most significant incident of Calvin's residence
in Basel was the pubhcation, in March, 1536, of the
first edition of his Institutes — a work which he had
substantially completed in the preceding August,
when he was httle more than twenty-six years of age.
It is the clearest, most logical, and most readable
exposition of Protestant doctrine that the Reforma
tion age produced, and it gave its youthful author
at once a European fame. Calvin labored on its
elaboration nearly all his active hfe. It may be
said to have attained doctrinal completeness in the
second edition (1539), and perfection of presentation
in its final and much enlarged form issued twenty
years later; but its interpretation of Christian truth
was always essentially the same. To this masterful
treatise Calvin prefaced a remarkable letter to Fran
cis I of France, defending the Protestants of that
land from the criticisms of their enemies, and vindi
cating their rights to a respectful hearing. No man
had yet spoken so effectively in their behalf, and with
this letter Calvin took a position of assured leader
ship in the party whose cause he pleaded.

244 GREAT MEN OF THE CHRISTIAN CHURCH
A brief visit to Ferrara in Italy followed the pub
lication of the Institutes. Calvin then returned to
Paris to secure his brother and sister and settle his
business affairs, preliminary to intended removal to
Protestant Strassburg. War compelled a detour by
Geneva. He reached there late in July, 1536, in
tending to spend a single night; but was met by
the entreaties and admonitions of his friend, Guil-
laume Farel, to remain and engage with him in the
estabhshment of the Reformation in the city. To
Calvin it seemed a call of God, and he now began
his Genevan work.
No city could have seemed less promising than
Geneva to one who, like Calvin, believed that the
prime duty of minister and magistrate alike was the
cultivation of strict, conscientious, Christian charac
ter. Pressed upon by the Duke of Savoy, with
whom its bishop was in sympathy, its liberty-loving
citizens had rejected Savoyard influence and driven
out the bishop. Farel had labored there since 1532.
The mass had been suspended in 1535, and in May,
1536, two months before Calvin's coming, the citi
zens by formal vote had placed themselves on the
Protestant side. Yet their Protestantism was chiefly
political hostility to the bishop, not doctrinal con
viction. The town was notoriously pleasure-loving,
and its religious institutions were all in confusion.
It was a most difficult task to which Calvin was thus
suddenly invited by Farel.

JOHN CALVIN 245
Calvin began his work with vigor. He would
have each inhabitant assent to a Protestant creed,
the young instructed in a catechism, all watched
over as to moral conduct, the church free to act to
the point of excommunication, and the government
then to deal with incorrigible offenders. It was the
most strenuous programme of moral discipline that
Protestantism had yet presented, and it, of course,
aroused opposition. The point of attack was the
partial freedom from governmental control which
Calvin, unlike the German and Swiss reformers be
fore him, demanded for the church. On this issue
Calvin and Farel were defeated, and were banished
from the city in April, 1538. His work seemed a
failure. The next three years were spent by Calvin in
Strassburg and were in many ways the happiest of his
life. He was pastor of the church of French refugees
and was free to carry out his disciplinary measures;
he was a successful teacher of theology; he was
honored by the city, and was made its representative
in important religious conferences in Germany. Here
he married, in August, 1540, the wife who was to be
his helpful companion till her death in March, 1549.
His Strassburg career did much for him. It enlarged
his experience and ripened his thought in every way.
Meanwhile a revolution had occurred in Geneva,
his friends were once more in power, and his return
was eagerly sought. In September, 1541, with great

246 GREAT MEN OF THE CHRISTIAN CHURCH
reluctance, he once more took up the Geneva bur
den, practically on his own terms. The ecclesiasti
cal constitution of the city now established was not
indeed quite what he desired, but it put into effective
operation his leading ideas. Its most important
feature was the Consistory, made up of the ministers
of the_city and of twelve laymen, to whom the moral
oversight of Geneva was referred. It could proceed
in discipline as far as excommunication. If that
failed to effect amendment, the power of the civil
government was called in. Naturally, in practice,
this ecclesiastical supervision aroused great opposi
tion, not only from those to whom any discipline was
irksome, but from more worthy representatives of
old Genevan families to whom Calvin and his asso
ciates seemed foreign intruders who had imposed
their yoke on the city. His stay was a constant
contest, and Calvin was many times on the brink of
banishment. But he fought his way courageously,
and the influx of exiles for their faith, chiefly from
France, whom Calvin attracted to Geneva, con
stantly increased his following. At the very crisis
of the struggle, in 1553, the brilliant but erratic
Michel Servetus, the critic of the doctrine of the
Trinity, came to the city, and his condemnation
became a trial of strength between Calvin and his
enemies. Though Calvin wished for Servetus an
easier death than that at the stake, which was in
flicted on October 27, 1553, ne had long determined

JOHN CALVIN 247
to crush that ill-balanced thinker; and the incident is
one which shows Calvin in his least attractive light.
A riot in 1555, however, gave Calvin's friends in
Geneva the upper hand; and his position was made
permanently secure by the admission of a large num
ber of the refugees to citizenship. Thenceforward,
to his death, he had no serious opposition in Geneva.
Calvin now crowned his Genevan edifice by the
"Academy" in 1559. This famous school, which was
for a century the most distinguished seat of educa
tion under the control of the Reformed churches,
became at once a training institution for the Protes
tant ministry of France, and its influence was pro
foundly felt in the Netherlands, England, Scotland,
and Germany. For Calvin, Geneva was never an
end in itself. He would make it a city of refuge for
persecuted Protestants, an example of a strictly dis
ciplined Christian community, and a center for min
isterial training whence men should go forth to
advance the Reformation cause. In all this he suc
ceeded. And, besides this constant labor in Geneva,
Calvin exercised a real, though unofficial, superin
tendence over all non- German and non- Anglican
Protestantism. Before his death, great reform move
ments bearing his impress had begun, and in some
instances had far advanced, in France, the Nether
lands, Scotland, Poland, Hungary, and even in the
Rhine Valley section of Germany. They reproduced
his theology and his conceptions of the well-disci-

248 GREAT MEN OF THE CHRISTIAN CHURCH
plined Christian life. He trained many of their
leaders, and maintained an enormous and far-reach
ing correspondence. To Calvin was due the essen
tial spiritual likeness that came to exist among the
scattered family of non-Lutheran Protestantism; and
the territorial growth of Calvinism had but begun
at his death. His system was destined powerfuUy
to mold English thought through the Puritans, and
American religious development through the Pil
grim and Puritan, the Scotch-Irish, the Dutch, the
Huguenot, and the German-Reformed elements in
our national life.
With all this multiplicity of- tasks Calvin's pen was
always busy. His commentaries, which cover the
greater part of the Bible, are the best that the Refor
mation age produced. His Institutes were constantly
improved. His minor treatises discussed the most
important questions of the day. He was unremitting
in attention to preaching and to theological lectures.
This activity was the more remarkable because his
health was always precarious, and in the latter years
of his life he was constantly an invalid. He died,
worn out by his burdens and disabilities, when not
yet fifty-five years of age, in Geneva, on May 27,
1564. Calvin's theology was essentially Augustinian, with
out the ecclesiasticism with which the great African
thinker combined his doctrine of grace. God is all
powerful in creation and providence. In him is the

JOHN CALVIN 249
sole source of all good, wherever manifested. The
object of all worthy laws, as well as of right indi
vidual action, is conformity to the will of God.
Man's chief duty and enjoyment is to know him
and what he requires and offers. This knowledge is
adequately imparted only by the Scriptures, which
approve themselves as the very Word of God by the
inward testimony of the Holy Spirit in the heart of
the believing reader. No other authority than this
Word is of value.
Man was created upright, but by Adam's fall has
become wholly bad. He is of himself utterly in
capable of any good act, and his salvation is totally
the work of God. Its basis is what Christ has
wrought for men, but to be available that must
become man's personal possession. Christ must
become ours. We must enter into vital union with
him. This union is conditioned on faith; but this
faith is itself the gift of God, and comes by "the
secret efficacy of the Spirit." Grace therefore flows
not through the sacraments alone, but by the divine
Spirit who works when and where and how he will.
As with Luther, the sacraments are seals attesting
God's promises.
The consequence of faith is the Christian life.
To Calvin, far more than to Luther, this life is one
of strenuous endeavor. Though no longer judged
by the law of God, the Christian sees in it the pattern
to which his life should conform. " We are justified

250 GREAT MEN OF THE CHRISTIAN CHURCH
not without, and yet not by works." No man can
be really a Christian without aspiring to holiness of
life. This insistence is one of the prime features of
Calvinism. It made character a main test of all
true religious life.
Since all grace is from God, and man deserves
nothing of himself, the salvation or loss of any indi
vidual must depend on the divine purpose. Calvin
advanced beyond Augustine in holding that no one
in whom God had really begun a work of grace could
fail to be saved. From this doctrine of election
therefore he drew great encouragement.
In his theory of the church, Calvin held that, in
the last analysis, it is the invisible company of the
elect; but as known to us it is the body of those who
profess the Christian faith. It is properly governed
only by officers of divine appointment — the pastors,
teachers, elders, and deacons of the New Testament,
who are called to their duties inwardly by God, and
outwardly by the consent of those they serve. Calvin
thus recognized a true share of the people in the
choice of their church officers.
Calvinism has proved of great service to civil
liberty, rather as a consequence of Calvin's prin
ciples than of a deliberate purpose on his part. His
doctrine that when God's commands are clear no
contrary human enactment deserves any obedience,
tended to develop independent judgment as to the
righteousness of any statute of man's making; while

JOHN CALVIN 251
his principle that church officers receive their places
with the consent of those they serve, led men to re
gard them as responsible to their congregations — a
feeling easily carried to civil governorships and other
places of pohtical rule. The debt of America to
his work, religiously and politically, is well-nigh im
measurable. QUESTIONS
1. Give some account of the life and work of Zwingli.
How did he resemble and how did he differ from Luther ?
2. What influences favored the beginning of the reform
movement in France ?
3. Describe Calvin's parentage, early life, and education.
4. In what studies did Calvin gain distinction ?
5. What was the nature of Calvin's conversion? What
experience in it affected his theology ?
6. How did Calvin come to leave France ?
7. When were the Institutes published, and what was their
significance ?
8. What was the condition of Geneva and how came
Calvin to settle there ? Why was it a hard field ?
9. What did Calvin attempt in his first stay in Geneva ?
How did it end ?
10. What was the value to Calvin of his residence in Strass
burg? 11. How came Calvin to return to Geneva? The Con
sistory? The sources of opposition? His success in the
struggle? 12. What did Calvin aim to make of Geneva? How
far did he succeed ?
13. What were the results of Calvin's work outside of
Geneva ?

252 GREAT MEN OF THE CHRISTIAN CHURCH
14. Calvin's varied activities ? His death ?
15. Speak of some features of Calvin's theology.
16. What was his service to civil liberty? Why?
ADDITIONAL READING
Philip Schaff, History of the Christian Church (New York,
1892), VII, 1-844.
John F. Hurst, History of the Christian Church (Cincinnati,
1897), II, 223-304.
Williston Walker, John Calvin (New York, 1906).

JOHN KNOX

XIV
JOHN KNOX
Calvin's most eminent spiritual disciple was un
doubtedly John Knox, if the permanency and widely
extended character of his work are the criteria of
estimate. He had little of the originality of Luther,
Zwingli, or Calvin; but though principaUy indebted
for his theology and his form of church organization
to the Genevan reformer, Knox possessed so impres
sive an individuality and such personal force, and
fought so peculiar and successful a battle, that he
had high independent significance among the leaders
of the Reformation age. His is not only the greatest
figure in Scottish history, but the history of the
Reformation in Scotland is largely the story of Knox's
hfe. Scotland before the Reformation was an unde
veloped land.1 Its business and its culture were
alike backward, it was torn by internal controversies
in which the nobles and the great churchmen bore
full share. Its monarchy was weak. Its church,
though wealthy enough to possess half the land of the
kingdom, was notoriously corrupt. In its political
relations, Scotland was harassed by well-grounded
fears of English aggression, which inclined the little
- In this sketch the writer has made considerable use of what
he has already said in his volume The Reformation.
255

256 GREAT MEN OF THE CHRISTIAN CHURCH
kingdom to look for aid to France. The Reforma
tion movement was far advanced on the Continent
before it was felt in Scotland. The first Scottish
Protestant martyr, Patrick Hamilton, was burned
under Archbishop James Beaton at St. Andrews in
1528, and this policy of repression was even more
severely carried out under James Beaton's nephew
and successor, Cardinal David Beaton; but Protes
tantism grew very slowly till it found a leader in
Knox. John Knox was born probably in the Giffordgate
district of Haddington, thirteen miles east of Edin
burgh, on some unknown day probably of the year
1513.1 His father, William Knox, was in humble
circumstances, but the boy had the advantage of a
good school in Haddington, and entered a univer
sity, probably that of St. Andrews, where he came
under the influence of the leading scholastic theolo
gian of Scotland, John Major (1469-1550). While
thoroughly Roman in doctrine, Major criticized the
papal administration, wished to limit the number
of monks, and held that civil authority is derived
from the people, who can depose and even execute
unjust rulers. In the opinion last described he was
1 The traditional year of Knox's birth is 1505; but the evi
dence for 1513 seems stronger. Besides the claim of Giffordgate
as the scene of his birth, that event has been assigned to Gifford
and to Morham, each village about four miles from Haddington.
The subject is well discussed by Professor Henry Cowan, John
Knox (New York, 1905), pp. 22-29, 45_48-

JOHN KNOX 257
to have an energetic disciple in Knox. By 1540
Knox had been ordained to the priesthood. He also
acted as notary, and served as a tutor, by 1544 hav
ing under his care several young sons of Lothian
families of position.
It was apparently in 1543 that Knox's spiritual
awakening, or at least his conversion to Protestant
ism, took place under the preaching of a former
monk, Thomas William of Athelstaneford, the par
ticular passage of Scripture that first impressed him
being the seventeenth chapter of John's Gospel. A
few months later he came under the influence of
George Wishart (1513-46), a powerful Protestant
preacher for whom he conceived a great affection.
Knox narrowly escaped sharing Wishart's arrest,
and was profoundly moved by that vigorous mis
sionary's death by fire at St. Andrew's on March
1, 1546. Wishart had represented not merely Prot
estantism but English interests. His opponents
had sided with France and the papacy. As a
result of this partly religious, partly political,
contention, Cardinal Beaton was murdered by some
of Wishart's supporters, on May 29, 1546. Knox
had no part in the deed; but, once done, he fully
approved of it; and when, some time after, the con
spirators and their friends took possession of the
Castle of St. Andrews for safety, he joined them, in
April, 1547. Here he was chosen minister of the
little company, and entered on his office with a fiery

258 GREAT MEN OF THE CHRISTIAN CHURCH
sermon against the papacy and all its works. Here,
first of any in Scotland, he pubhcly administered the
Lord's Supper in Protestant fashion. English help
did not come to the beleaguered garrison; but the
French party procured aid from France. The
castle was captured; and from September, 1547,
to February or March, 1549, Knox suffered the fate
of a galley-slave, chained to the rowing-bench
of a French war-vessel. Even under these circum
stances, and the added distress of severe illness, his
courage did not desert him; and he confidently
trusted, and made others believe, that he would yet
preach in his native land.
Knox's release through an exchange of prisoners
was followed by a pastorate under the auspices of
the Protestant government which ruled England in
the name of Edward VI, at Berwick on the Tweed.
His success there was great, and resulted in his
promotion to Newcastle, his appointment as one of
the English royal chaplains, and finally the offer of
the bishopric of Rochester. That important dignity
he refused, not so much by reason of any opposition
to the episcopal office, as from dislike of the revenues
and state of the English prelates, and his own patri
otic determination to renew his work in Scotland as
soon as opportunity might offer. Though in his
judgment, as in that of the Reformers generaUy, all
ministers were spiritually equal, he objected no more
than Calvin or Melanchthon to the retention of purely

JOHN KNOX 259
administrative supervision by a "bishop" over the
ministers of a district.
The death of Edward VI in 1553 was followed in
England by the Roman reaction under Queen Mary.
Knox saw that further work in England was impos
sible for the present, and after waiting quite as long
as safety permitted, he, like many of his fellow-
Protestants, fled to the Continent early in 1554. He
made his way promptly to Geneva, where he was
heartily welcomed by Calvin, with whom he was
already in spiritual sympathy. His stay at this time
in Geneva was short, however. In September, 1554,
a call came to him to become the pastor of the Eng
lish exiles in the German city of Frankfort. Thither
he went at Calvin's insistence; but his pastorate
proved one of his most stormy experiences. The
refugees there gathered had all fled from England in
fear for their lives; but even a common misery
could not prevent the outbreaking among them of
what was soon to be the great Puritan controversy of
Queen Elizabeth's reign. Some wished to use the
Prayer-Book as it had been established in England in
the reign of the late Edward VI; others, of whom
Knox was one, thought that it preserved too many
vestiges of Romanism and favored a simpler service.
Knox found his position untenable, and in March,
1555, was back in the friendly shelter of Geneva.
Meanwhile the situation in Scotland had improved
from Knox's point of view. Mary of Guise, the

260 GREAT MEN OF THE CHRISTIAN CHURCH
French mother of the youthful Mary "Queen of
Scots," though a devoted Catholic, had coquetted
with nobles of Protestant leanings to obtain the
regency in 1554. The return of England under Mary
to the Roman obedience favored the growth of
Protestantism in Scotland by reason of the dispo
sition then characteristic of the hard-pressed little
country to foUow a policy opposite to that which
England pursued. Under such circumstances Knox
judged the time opportune, and, in September, 1555,
was once more in S'otland. Here he preached
widely and with effect; but his success was even
greater in organizing a definitely Protestant party.
He persuaded the leading Protestant sympathizers
to cease attending mass. He entered into relations
with three youthful nobles who were to be leaders
in the Protestant cause — Lord Erskine, afterward
Earl of Mar, Lord James Stuart, afterward Earl of
Moray, both to be regents of Scotland, and Lord
Lome, afterward Earl of Argyle. He defied the
bishops. But Knox evidently judged the time not
fully ripe for successful overthrow of the old church.
The Genevan English-speaking congregation urged
him to return, and in September, 1556, he was back
in the Swiss city.
Here in Geneva Knox made his headquarters
till January, 1559. He was pastor of the English
congregation. He was on affectionate terms with
Calvin, whom he intensely admired. He spoke

JOHN KNOX 261
French fluently, and his Genevan stay was inter
rupted with courageous missionary work in Dieppe
in France and by visits to other French cities in aid
of the Evangelical cause. At Geneva he published,
in 1558, what proved i«ter a source of great annoy
ance to himself, his First Blast of the Trumpet against
Uie Monstrous Regiment of Women. Moved by the
opposition of Mary Tudor in England, of Catherine
de' Medici in France, and of the regent, Mary of
Guise, in Scotland, to the Protestant cause, Knox
argued that no woman could rightfully exercise
sovereignty. He did not foresee that England would
soon have a Protestant queen — and Queen Elizabeth
never forgave him.
While Knox was thus busied, the Protestant cause
was gaining in Scotland. On December 3, 1557,
its leaders drafted at Edinburgh the first Scottish
"Covenant," agreeing "to maintain, set forward, and
establish the most blessed Word of God and His
congregation," from which they soon obtained the
nickname of the " Lords of the Congregation." The
political situation soon strongly favored their cause.
Fear of overbearing French influence was increased
when the long betrothal of Mary, " Queen of Scots,"
ended in her marriage in April, 1558, to the heir to
the French throne who, in July of the next year,
was to become Francis II of France. In November,
1558, Elizabeth became Queen of England. By the
Roman party she was held to be illegitimate, as the

262 GREAT MEN OF THE CHRISTIAN CHURCH
daughter of Anne Boleyn, whose marriage to Henry
VIII that party had never recognized. If she had
no right to the English throne, then Mary " Queen
of Scots" was queen of England. Mary asserted her
claim. Elizabeth in self-defense could do no less
than countenance the Protestant party in Scotland,
and many not Protestants trembled at the thought
of the union of France, England, and Scotland under
the joint sovereignty of Francis and Mary. So it
was that Knox, from his post of observation in
Geneva, deemed the time for battle to have come at
last, and on May 2, 1559, arrived in Edinburgh.
Intense, religious, argumentative, democratic, fear
less, intolerant, forceful, Knox was just the man for
leadership in the crisis he had so laboriously pre
pared. It was not a religious struggle only. To a
large degree it was a great national conflict against
foreign dominance in which he fought.
At Perth Knox heard that the regent, Mary of
Guise, had declared him an outlaw. He replied
with a vehement denunciation of the mass. ¦ The
mob rose. The images in the churches were de
stroyed and the monasteries were sacked. Both
sides raised what troops they could. Scotland was
in civil war. Similar scenes of violent abolition
took place at St. Andrew's and elsewhere, and the
nobles hastened to put themselves in possession of
the church lands. The regent was drawing her sup
port from France, and Knox now negotiated success-

JOHN KNOX 263
fully for pecuniary assistance for his cause from
England. On his advice, the " Lords of the Congre
gation," in October, 1559, suspended Mary of Guise
from the regency so far as they could, and the battle
was practically decided for the Protestant cause,
when, in January, 1560, an English fleet, sent by
Elizabeth, came to its assistance, and was soon fol
lowed by an English army. The two rival forces
struggled ineffectively for a time, but, in June, 1560,
the regent died, and within a month the French and
English forces were withdrawn by treaty. In the
absence of the queen, Mary, in France, it was agreed
that the government of Scotland should be in the
hands of a council of Scotchmen. It was a great
victory for self-government in Scotland, against
French interference, as well as for the right of the
land to determine its religious affairs,' and the chief
agent in the result had been Knox himself.
In August the Scottish Parliament met, under rad
ical Protestant control. In form it was not strictly
legal, for it lacked the consent of the queen, but it
was fairly representative of the nation. Its action
was drastic. Romanism was abolished. Death was
threatened for a third conviction of celebrating the
mass. A Confession of Faith, drafted by Knox and
five ministerial associates, and Calvinistic in doctrine,
was adopted. The ancient Roman edifice was utterly
overthrown. This radical action made necessary the complete

264 GREAT MEN OF THE CHRISTIAN CHURCH
reorganization of the Scottish church. Knox and
his ministerial associates had been laboring on a
constitution before the meeting of Parliament, and it
was now completed after the adjournment of that
body. It is known as the First Book of Discipline.1
The essential features of the system of church gov
ernment therein outlined were derived from Cal
vin, and are of the type known as P^esbytgrjan. In
each local congregation was a minister, elders, and
deacons, all chosen by the people they served, the
minister permanently with the approval of other
ministers of the region, and the elders and deacons
by the congregation for terms of one year. To the
deacons the care of the temporalities and the relief
of the poor was intrusted. The elders with the min
ister, the "session" of Presbyterian usage, were the
disciplinary council. Neighboring ministers and
elders met weekly for Bible-study — an assembly, that
after Knox's death became the " Presbytery." The
ministers and elders of a district met as a superior
court in the "Synod;" and chosen ministers and lay
representatives convened as a supreme ecclesiastical
court for all -Scotland once a year in the " General
Assembly,", the first session of which gathered in
December, 1560. In two features Knox departed
from the Genevan system. He would have "super-^
intendents" in administrative supervision over the
1 That prepared largely by Andrew Melville, and approved by
the General Assembly in 1578, is the "Second."

JOHN KNOX 265
ministers of given districts; and owing to the scarcity
of suitable ministers, he provided for "readers" till
the want could be supplied. In public worship Knox
introduced substantially the Genevan service, in the
form in which it had been used in his congregation in
that city. This made the sermon central, and pro
vided opportunity both for free and written prayers.
Could Knox have done as he wished, the income of
the old church would have been used for schools,
church expenses, and charity; but he could do nothing
with the greedy nobles who seized it for themselves.
Owing to their opposition the "Book" was not estab
lished by law, but it became the pattern essentially
in accordance with which the Scottish church was
organized. Knox's battle seemed about won before the close
of 1560. He himself was chosen minister in Edin
burgh. But a hard struggle was before him to main
tain what had been secured. Mary "Queen of
Scots" became a widow in December, 1560, and re
turned to Scotland in the August following, deter
mined to bring back the country to Rome, and to
secure for herself the succession to the English
throne. Her charm and shrewdness, and the sym
pathy felt for her bereavement, won her many
friends. In Knox and in the spirit which he had
fostered she met her chief obstacles. The struggle
was waged on his part with weapons of invective
that seemed coarse and often brutal, but the contest

266 GREAT MEN OF THE CHRISTIAN CHURCH
was none the less one for popular sovereignty and the
right of the majority to determine its form of religion.
"What are you in this commonwealth?" asked
Mary of Knox in 1563. "A subject born within
the same," he replied, "and though neither earl, lord,
nor baron, God has made me a profitable member."
He criticized her Romanizing policy unsparingly,
declaring when she set up Roman worship in her
own chapel that " one mass was more fearful to him
than ten thousand armed enemies," and boldly
affirmed to her face that subjects may rightfully
depose a ruler who opposes the Word of God.
Knox, however, could hardly have succeeded as
he did in the struggle had it not been for Mary's
misdeeds and misfortunes. She angered public sen
timent, in 1563, by proposing a marriage with Don
Carlos, son of Philip II of Spain. She quarreled
with Darnley, whom she married in 1565. She made
prominent among her advisers an Italian favorite,
David Rizzio, who was murdered in March, 1566,
by a conspiracy of disaffected nobles, in which the
jealous Darnley himself was involved. On February
10, 1567, Darnley was himself murdered — with
what connivance on Mary's part has been ever since
one of the battlegrounds of historic discussion. On
May 15, following, she married the Earl of Bothwell,
who had had a share in Darnley's death. Public
opinion was outraged. On June 15 Mary was taken
captive by her nobles and soon forced to abdicate in

JOHN KNOX 267
favor of her infant son, James VI, and a regency to
be administered by the Protestant Earl of Moray.
In the discussions following Mary's capture, Knox
seems to have contributed the decisive influence in
favor of forcing her abdication. The Parliament
which followed, in December, 1567, gave full legal
establishment to the enactments of 1560, and the
Scottish church.
Knox hoped that his work was done; but the con
dition of the land remained a cause of anxiety to him
as long as he lived. Mary escaped from imprison
ment in 1568, and found many supporters. Her
defeat was foUowed by her flight to England and
her imprisonment by Elizabeth, where she remained
a scheming captive, menacing the Protestantism of
both lands, till her execution as a conspirator against
the English queen in 1587.
In October, 1570, Knox suffered a paralytic
stroke. He regained partial strength and labored
with something of his old fire till shortly before his
death. On November 24, 1572, he met his end, in
calm assurance, and in full enjoyment of spiritual
comfort. To some extent he was a disappointed
man in his last days. He saw many of his cherished
plans for the church and education frustrated, as he
believed, by the greed and unspirituality of the
nobles. But when he died at Edinburgh it was in
the fulness of an accomplished work of vast dimen
sions; and no more fitting characterization was ever

268 GREAT MEN OF THE CHRISTIAN CHURCH
spoken of him than the often-quoted words of Regent
Morton at his burial: "Here lieth a man who in his
life never feared the face of man."
QUESTIONS
i. What was the condition of Scotland before the Ref
ormation ? Why was Scotland closely bound politically to
France ?
2. Who was the first Scotchman to die for Protestantism ?
Was Protestantism late in getting a foothold in Scotland ?
3. What were Knox's parentage, birthplace, and education ?
What influence had John Major on him ? ,' . , '
4. Under what influences was Knox converted to Protes
tantism ? What were his relations to Wishart ?
5. How came Knox to be in the Castle of St. Andrews ?
His ministry there? How signalized? His experience as a
prisoner ?
6. What was Knox's work in England? How was it
regarded ?
7. What was the value to Knox of his stay in Geneva?
The Frankfort episode ?
8. How did he organize the Reformation movement in
Scotland in 1555-56 ?
9. What office did Knox fill in his second stay in Geneva ?
His First Blast?
10. What political conditions facilitated his work in Scot
land in 1559 ? Character of the reform movement ?
11. The work of the Parliament of 1560? How did
Knox organize the church ?
12. What were Knox's relations to Mary "Queen of
Scots"? How was she injured by her own misdeeds and
mistakes ?
13. Knox's death? His character and work?

JOHN KNOX 269
ADDITIONAL READING
Thomas McCrie, The Life of John Knox (Edinburgh, 181 2,
and many later editions).
Peter H. Brown, John Knox, a Biography (London, 1895).
Henry Cowan, John Knox (New York, 1905).

IGNATIUS LOYOLA

XV
IGNATIUS LOYOLA
The Reformation age witnessed not merely the
birth of Protestantism; it beheld a great revival of
the spiritual life in the Roman Catholic church itself
— a movement to which the name " Counter-Refor
mation" has often, but not wholly adequately, been
given. To a large extent this awakening was induced
by the great Protestant revolt. But it is not wholly
traceable to that upheaval. Its beginnings had been
manifested before the time of Luther; and, like the
Protestant revival, it owed much to the quickening
spirit of the Renaissance. Unlike Protestantism, this
awakening had no quarrel with mediaeval doctrine.
It was content with a better-educated and more
faithful clergy, the abolition of the grosser abuses,
and a warmer spiritual life.
In no country in Europe1 was this Roman revival
so conspicuously in evidence as in Spain. That
land was rising to a political significance heretofore
unsuspected, that made it the marvel of the closing
years of the fifteenth century. The marriage of
Ferdinand of Aragon and Isabella of Castile, in 1469,
ultimately resulted in placing the larger part of the
Spanish peninsula under their effective rule. Their
1 In this sketch the writer has borrowed some sentences from
his The Reformation. 273

274 GREAT MEN OF THE CHRISTIAN CHURCH
conquest of Granada, in 1492, ended Moorish sov
ereignty in that land; and the same year witnessed
the discovery, under Spanish auspices, of the New
World, from which a wealth soon flowed to the
Spanish treasury such as no mediaeval king had
enjoyed. Spain, by the beginning of the sixteenth
century, had suddenly become well-nigh the most
powerful land of Europe; and this political growth
had been accompanied by a great effort for the
intellectual and moral improvement of the Spanish
church in which the deeply religious queen, Isabella,
and her trusted religious adviser, Ximenes, had been
leaders. The Spanish church had awakened, before
1500, to new zeal. Fanatically tenacious of medi
aeval doctrine, it tolerated no change in its theology,
but it was the most thoroughly aroused section of
Latin Christendom. Of this Spanish awakening the
most characteristic and influential product was to be
Ignatius Loyola, the founder of the Company of
Jesus, or, as its members are generally nicknamed,
the Jesuits.
Inigo Lopez de Recalde was born of the noble
Spanish family of Loyola, at its castle in the
northern province of Guipuzcoa, in 1491. As a
boy, he was trained in the court of Ferdinand and
Isabella, and soon developed marked talents as a
soldier. Of unshakable courage and a born leader
of men, he, though the youngest officer present, de
cided the slender garrison to defend Pamplona against

IGNATIUS LOYOLA

275

the overwhelming French army, in 1 521. In the
storming of the city by its besiegers he showed heroic
firmness in defense, but he fell severely wounded by
a ball which shattered his leg. Then followed long
weeks of invalidism. The young soldier would not
readily abandon his career, and the ill-knit bones
were repeatedly broken and reset in the vain hope
of a more perfect recovery. He had at last to
recognize that the soldier's pathway was closed to
him forever.
To the man of thirty this was a distressing out
come; but a new vision had come to him in his
invalidism. He had read eagerly such books as he
could find — a Life of Christ and sketches of the
saints. He would imitate them in a new and holier
warfare as his great fellow-countryman, Saint Dom-
inick, had done. He would be a knight of the Spirit,
waging warfare with the powers of evil. He would
serve a nobler lady than any earthly princess — the
Virgin herself.
As soon as returning strength permitted, Loyola
put his new resolutions into practice. He offered his
armor at the shrine of the Virgin in Montserrat, and
soon began a life of self-mortification in the Domini
can monastery in Manresa. Here he fought the
battles for the mastery of his own spirit which ever
after colored his religious life. He fasted and prayed.
He painfully recalled his sins, till, feeling that their
remembrance was a hindrance to his spiritual prog-

276 GREAT MEN OF THE CHRISTIAN CHURCH
ress, he resolved to thrust even their recollection be
hind him and to recount them no more, not even
in prayer. He believed that the mysteries of the
Trinity, of the Incarnation, and of the creation of
the world were revealed to him in vision; but he re
jected equally clear spiritual suggestions as of satanic
origin; and he made the test of the divine or devilish
impulses of his soul their comfort and help, or their
disquieting effects. Here he conceived his Spiritual
Exercises, based indeed in part on earlier treatises by
Cisnero of Manresa and the Netherlandish mystics,
Zerbolt of Ziitphen and Mauburnus of Zwolle, but
profoundly original in their treatment. This mar
velous work is a drillbook of spiritual self-mastery.
Under the guidance of a religious master-at-arms,
the disciple is to exercise himself for four weeks in
attempts to gain, by strenuous effort of will, a vivid
consciousness of man's sinfulness, and of the life and
saving work of Christ. The world as a battleground
between his Lord and the powers of evil is to be made
real to his imagination; and the great facts of salva
tion are to become part of his mental imagery. Never
was there a more remarkable or a more successful
attempt to awaken, control, and direct mental pic
tures. In the order which Ignatius was later to
establish each member had to pass through the dis
cipline thus prescribed; and its effects on most
minds must have been an unforgettable quickening
of the spiritual imagination by which what is usually

IGNATIUS LOYOLA 277
fantasy was directed into definite pictures of great
Christian verities. Loyola would use the visions of
the spirit to the full; yet control and direct them
absolutely. This period of spiritual conflict in Manresa was
followed by a determined effort to engage in mis
sionary activity. Loyola made his way, in 1523, to
Jerusalem. But the Franciscans in authority among
the Latin Christians there looked with disfavor on
his enterprise; and, finding if impossible to accom
plish his purpose, he returned to Spain. The main
result of this courageous, but fruitless, enterprise was
to convince Loyola that for effective work he must
obtain an education. He now began with the very
rudiments of Latin in a boys' class in Barcelona.
Thence he went for further study at Alcala and to
Salamanca. It was hard work; but his persever
ance was inexhaustible. Loyola was showing him
self, as always, a leader; and he soon gathered a little
following, which he drilled in his Exercises. This
work excited, however, the suspicions of the ecclesi
astical authorities, and he narrowly escaped condem
nation as an alumbrado, or a heretical claimant of
special divine illumination. Forbidden to speak on
religious themes for four years by the investigators
of his orthodoxy, since they deemed him still too
ignorant, he left Spain for Paris in 1528, and there
took up his studies in the College Montaigu, proba
bly just as John Calvin left that seat of learning. In

278 GREAT MEN OF THE CHRISTIAN CHURCH
circumstances of great poverty he pursued his work
in the university. The years of his stay in Paris were
a period of public excitement and involved much of
the beginnings of the Reformation in France; but
he shared in no conspicuous event. With the ut
most persistence, on the contrary, Loyola strove to
gain personal influence over his fellow-students, and
to train them by his Exercises. A group from most
various social ranks soon looked to him as its leader.
A simple Savoyard, Pierre Lefevre, a brilliant noble
man of Navarre, Francisco de Xavier, a Spaniard
of great learning and organizing talent, Diego Lainez,
Alonso Salmeron, likewise a fellow-countryman of
Loyola, who was to be a preacher of power, Simon
Rodriguez, a Portuguese, and still another Spaniard,
Nicolo Bobadilla, with two or three others consti
tuted the little companionship. •
With the friends just named Loyola entered into
vows in the church of St. Mary on Montmartre, then
just outside of Paris, on August 15, 1534. The
student associates pledged themselves to engage in
missionary labors and the care of the ill in Jerusalem,
or, should that prove impossible, wherever the pope
should direct. It was at first a student organization
for missionary effort, and, as such, the movement
was soon carried from the university of Paris to those
of Louvain and Cologne.
Ill-health compelled Loyola to return to Spain in
IS3S> but in I537 the associates gathered in Venice

IGNATIUS LOYOLA 279
to carry out their purpose of going to Jerusalem. War
rendering that impossible, they began preaching in the
cities of Italy. Loyola now determined their name.
Italy had seen many military companies in the service
of worldly princes; his should be the Societas Jesu,
the military company of Jesus, for a nobler warfare,
but like them bound together by soldierly obedience.
The approval of the pope was won with difficulty,
but in September, 1540, Paul III sanctioned the
association, and, the next year, Loyola was chosen
its first "general."
In Loyola's view few were fitted for membership
in the society, and all who entered it must undergo
long mental and spiritual discipline. As in an army,
each must cheerfully and promptly make his supe
rior's will his own, yielding absolute obedience unless
the command involved sin. Each should be as
signed to the task for which his talents and education
best fitted him. That the members should be free
for any suitable task, they were burdened with no
prescribed dress or lengthy religious duties, such as
marked most orders of monks. No religious agency
was ever more ingeniously devised. It gave room
for the exercise of the most varied and highly trained
talents. It appealed to two of the strongest motives
that men can feel — labor for others and for self-
development in the service of God; but it conditioned
their answer to this appeal on a self-surrender and an
obedience that, while leaving room for a high degree

280 GREAT MEN OF THE CHRISTIAN CHURCH
of individuality, abdicates the highest exercises of the
individual judgment and will.
Under Loyola's generalship, which lasted till his
death in Rome on July 31, 1556, the society that he
founded developed a most manifold activity, and its
growth and efficiency but increased under his imme
diate successors, his early disciple, Diego Lainez
(1557-65), and Francisco Borgia (1565-72). It has
borne ever since its foundation the impress of his
masterful mind. To use Loyola's favorite Pauline
quotation, he would have it made "all things to all
men." From Italy its preachers were soon reaching
out to all the countries of Europe. By Loyola's
death it counted more than a thousand members,
settled in a hundred places. Under Xavier, ap
pointed to the task by Loyola himself, a great mis
sionary campaign was begun in India in 1542, that
before Xavier's death, ten years later, had carried the
gospel by his means, all too superficially it is true, to
Malacca and Japan. He was but the forerunner of
a great company of Jesuit missionaries, who were to
labor in India, China, and Japan, and in North and
South America. Their story, if not always one of
wisdom or of effective method, is one in many
instances of intrepid heroism, that shines on the
pages of missionary consecration; and in its work for
missions the most winsome aspect of the Society of
Jesus is to be found.
It was, however, as an opponent of Protestantism

IGNATIUS LOYOLA 281
and as a molding force in the revival of Roman
Catholicism on the European continent that the so
ciety did its most effective, if not its most praiseworthy
work. It early devoted itself to the control of higher
education, a means of influence the importance of
which was clearly perceived by Loyola. Much in
the same way as that born leader availed himself of
the individualism of his age, and yet made it sub
servient to a single purpose in his society at large,
the Jesuits in their schools took into service the
admired humanistic culture of the Renaissance, and
yet held it in absolute obedience to the church.
Their schools and their instructors who gained a
foothold in older seats of learning were greatly ad
mired for more than a century after the founding of
the society, and their teaching, the fame of which
often attracted pupils whose Protestantism was luke
warm, proved a potent means of extending their
influence and renewing the sway of the church which
they served.
Though no part of the original intention of the so
ciety, its political activity soon became one of its
most formidable weapons. That activity was the
natural outgrowth of its constitution and principles.
The body was international in membership, and
bound by strict obedience to generals like Loyola,
Lainez, and Borgia, of surpassing political gifts.
To them the members reported the minutest affairs
of the lands in which they were stationed. The so-

282 GREAT MEN OF THE CHRISTIAN CHURCH
ciety could not but become a political force. No
wonder that the Jesuits proved the chief agents in
restoring many of the princes of Germany to the
Roman obedience, that they were the terror of such
sovereigns as Elizabeth of England or William the
Silent of the Netherlands, or that the governments
even of the most Catholic lands came ultimately to
look upon their activity with fear and hostility.
In their teaching and practice the Jesuits not
merely emphasized obedience to the papacy, but
those features of Romanism which are most at
variance with Protestantism. Devotion to the
Virgin was cultivated. Frequent participation in the
Lord's Supper was enjoined. The confessional was
exalted and its use impressed on the people, and
special papal privileges gave the members of the
society larger powers of absolution than those ordi
narily possessed by simple priests. But this em
phasis on the confessional became the doorway to
what has seemed to many of the Roman church, as
well as to Protestants, a lax conception of moral
values. The views of sin characteristic of the so
ciety were superficial. An elaborate and unstrenu-
ous system of casuistry was developed. Results were
exalted at the expense of the moral worth of the
means by which they were achieved; and that only
came to be considered fully sin, in the theological
sense, which is done with a clear recognition of its
evil character, and a conscious consent of the will.

IGNATIUS LOYOLA 283
The general tone of Jesuit morality was unstrenuous,
not merely when compared with that of Protestant
ism, but when examined in the light of the stricter
teachings of the Roman church itself.
With its faults and virtues, the society founded by
Loyola has been since the Reformation the most
powerful force in the Roman church. It has had its
missionaries, its martyrs, its men of saintly lives and
high consecration in abundance. It has also had
many a political intriguant and schemer. It did
more than any other agency to limit the advance of
Protestantism; but it has intensified and developed
those tendencies in the Roman church against which
Protestantism protested. Its power is still unex
hausted, and the work of Loyola must be regarded
as one of the most abiding legacies which the six
teenth century has bequeathed to the modern world.
QUESTIONS
1. Was the "Counter-Reformation" wholly a reaction
from Protestantism? With what kind of a Reformation
was it content ?
2. What was the relation of Spain to the Roman awaken
ing ? Why ?
3. What was the early life of Loyola ? How did he turn
to Christian things ?
4. Describe the chief characteristics of Loyola's religious
experience. 5. What were the Spiritual Exercises? What did they
aim to accomplish ?
6. Give some account of Loyola's student life.

284 GREAT MEN OF THE CHRISTIAN CHURCH
7. Who were some of Loyola's early companions and how
did he win them ?
8. When and with what purpose was the Society of Jesus
founded ? Its peculiarities ? The meaning of the name ?
9. When did Loyola die? Who succeeded him in the
generalship of the society ?
10. What can be said of the missionary work of the
society ? Who was its most famous missionary ? Where did
he labor ?
11. What was the relation of the society to education?
12. What may be said of its political tendencies ?
13. What aspects of Roman Catholicism did the society
emphasize ? Why have its moral tendencies been criticized ?
14. What may be said of the extent of the influence of the
society ?
ADDITIONAL READING
T. M. Lindsay, A History of the Reformation (New York,
1906, 1907), II, 526-63.
Stewart Rose, Ignatius Loyola and the Early Jesuits (London,
1891).

GEORGE FOX

XVI
GEORGE FOX
The English Reformation was in many respects
unlike that on the Continent. Under Henry VIII
political interests were far more potent than religious
considerations. The country as a whole was not
anxious for doctrinal revolution and was not pro
foundly moved spiritually. It looked upon the
papal authority as foreign, and willingly saw it re
jected by the masterful sovereign. It acquiesced
in his confiscation of monastic property. It accepted
the relatively slight changes that he made in worship;
but, like the king, the people had little criticism of
the broad fundamentals of mediaeval belief. At the
close of Henry VIII's reign, in 1547, three parties
existed— ra large body, of whom the king himself
was fairly representative, insistent that England
should be for Englishmen, in church as well as in
state, but not sympathizing with a Reformation like
that of Luther; and two small factions, one holding
to the ancient connection with Rome, and the other
Protestant as Germany and Switzerland understood
Protestantism. After the death of Henry VIII the small parties
successively controlled England. Under the nominal
rule of Edward VI, to 1553, the Protestants were in
287

288 GREAT MEN OF THE CHRISTIAN CHURCH
power, and to their supremacy were due the English
Prayer-Book and the Protestant Articles of Faith.
Under Mary, to 1558, the Roman faction was upper
most; and persecutions, mild, indeed, compared
with those on the Continent, but sufficient to give her
the name "Bloody" in memory, marked her reign.
At her accession, in 1558, Elizabeth was confronted
by a most difficult problem. She would rule the
English church, independently of the pope, as her
father had done. To this end, and to maintain her
foreign politics and even her own claim to the
throne, she must rule as a Protestant. But she
could not afford to alienate those of her subjects to
whom any extreme Protestantism was distasteful.
Hence her own policy was one of compromise — a
course which her own lack of deep religious con
victions rendered the easier.
From many points of view Elizabeth's policy was
eminently successful. She avoided the civil wars
between Protestants and Catholics which contempo
raneously devastated France. The country pros
pered. The vast majority of the parish clergy, and
of their parishioners, accepted the transition from
Mary's Romanism to Elizabeth's moderate Protes
tantism without resistance. But from the first decade
of her long reign a growing party, called the Puri
tans, felt that her reformation was far from thor
ough, desired the removal of inefficient clergy, the
establishment everywhere of an earnest, preaching

GEORGE FOX 289
ministry, the purification of worship by the removal of
what it deemed relics of Roman superstition, and the
enforcement of rigorous church discipline. These
changes Elizabeth resisted as divisive. The Puritans,
thus balked, went a step farther, and questioned the
rightfulness of an ecclesiastical constitution in which
the sovereign and the bishops whom she appointed
blocked what the Puritans deemed such needful re
forms. The more radical of the party, the " Sepa
ratists," ancestors of the Congregationalists, proposed
withdrawal from the government church as the only
remedy; but the great majority of Puritans believed a
national church desirable and thought that the Church
of England could be reconstituted on what they held
to be a more scriptural model. Calvinists in theology,
they found their model of what the church should be
largely in the Presbyterianism which had come forth
from Geneva. To them the queen showed utmost
hostility; but all through her long reign a real
religious awakening of the English people was in
progress, and when she died, in 1603, religious ques
tions had become the foremost problems in English
thought. It was a turmoiled situation, therefore, that faced
the Scottish James I on his accession to the English
throne ; and his want of skill and evident partisanship
but fanned the elements of discord. Religiously, he
took the anti-Puritan side. His political policy soon
alienated, moreover, the lovers of constitutional

290 GREAT MEN OF THE CHRISTIAN CHURCH
liberty. On his death, in 1625, his son, Charles I,
but embittered the struggle by attempts to crush
Puritanism, to rule without Parliament, and to force
episcopacy and the Prayer-Book on stubborn Scot
land. In 1642, the great civil war between king and
Parliament began, which led soon to the overthrow of
episcopacy, and, in 1649, to the execution of Charles
himself. An advisory religious assembly, which be
gan its sessions by parliamentary appointment at
Westminster in 1643, prepared a strongly Calvinistic
Confession of Faith as the creed of England, and
established, though very imperfectly, the Presbyterian
form of government.
Meanwhile, the surging religious life of England
was manifesting other forms. Independency, or
Congregationalism, was widespread in the army
which Cromwell had led to victory. Baptists, though
relatively far fewer, were growing in numbers. The
dominant religious type was, however, the Puritan;
and with the Puritan, no less than with the Episco
palian of that day, the minister held his office ulti
mately by appointment by the state. Even Congre
gationalists accepted many state appointments from
the friendly hand of Cromwell. Though generally
men of character, these state-made ministers were
not always of personal religious experience. The
prevailing type of Puritan theology was intensely
insistent on the Calvinistic doctrines of election and
reprobation; and in its profound reverence for the

GEORGE FOX 291
Bible taught that God had once for all revealed him
self to men through the Scriptures, and no further
revelation was to be sought than that contained in
the "Word of God."
It was in this situation that George Fox, the found
er of the Quakers, began his work. Fox was born
in July, 1624, in Fenny Drayton, about in the center
of England, the son of a weaver of upright character
but poor circumstances.1 His education was of the
slightest, but he grew up a serious-minded youth,
who "never wronged man or woman."2 At twelve,
he was apprenticed to a shoemaker who also dealt
in cattle and wool. His conversion came about in a
simple, though curious, manner. Invited by some
friends, who were nominal Christians, to drink with
them he consented; but when they proposed that
he who should first leave off should pay for all, Fox's
conscience awoke at the inconsistency of such
drunken practices with the Christian profession and
he promptly left them. It was the first ground-note
of Fox's religious experience, the conviction that if
religion is sincere it must rule the whole life; he
became "sensible" that the majority of nominal
Christians "did not possess what they professed."3
As he struggled and prayed, a further experience
1 The best account of Fox is in his own Journals, which have
been abridged and published in convenient form by Professor
R. M. Jones, George Fox, an Autobiography (Philadelphia, 1903).
' Jones, George Fox, I, 67.
3 Ibid., I, 68, 69.

292 GREAT MEN OF THE CHRISTIAN CHURCH
came to him. He believed that God spoke directly,
though inwardly, to his soul. " At the command of
God, the ninth of the seventh month, 1643, 1 leit my
relations, and broke off all familiarity or fellowship
with young or old."1 Then followed a period of
wandering and of consultation with ministers as to
his spiritual state; but to no comfort. Early in
1646, however, as he was approaching the town of
Coventry, "the Lord opened to me that if all were
believers, then they were all born of God, and passed
from death to life; and that none were true believers
but such; and though others said they were be
lievers, yet they were not."2
Tried by this test, which made Christianity a
vital, personal experience, the ministers, from whom
he had had so little comfort, seemed to Fox to be
wanting; and he came to the further conclusion
"that being bred at Oxford or Cambridge was not
enough to fit and qualify men to be ministers of
Christ."3 With this radical criticism of the ministry
came a dislike for church edifices, or "steeple
houses" as Fox called them, since the Lord "did not
dwell in these temples .... but in people's
hearts." The true light of the Christian is the in
ward revelation of "the pure knowledge of God,
and of Christ alone, without the help of any man,
book or writing."4
' Jones, George Fox, I, 68, 69. 3 Ibid., I, 75.
' Ibid., I, 74. 4 Ibid., I, 76, 82.

GEORGE FOX 293
These doctrines of the "inner light," and of the
duty of complete conformity of life to its guidance,
whatever the cost might be, were always the really
fundamental principles of Fox, and became those of
the society to which its critics soon gave the name
" Quakers," but which he preferred to call " Friends."
With them were associated many relatively minor
peculiarities, some of them directly derived from
these principles, and others- from views which had
appeared and reappeared in the Middle Ages and
Reformation history, among bodies like the Wal
denses, or the Anabaptists. Some of them he may
have derived from contact with the early English
Baptists, who, in turn, received them from fellow-
believers in Holland.1 Among the direct conse
quences of his principle of the " inner light," was his
conviction that all who were moved by the Spirit of
God, whether men or women, were true preachers,
and that none not so moved, or who were dependent
on appointment in a state church for their creden
tials of authority, deserved any ministerial recogni
tion whatever. From his conception of the essential
equahty of all Christians, and his strong hatred of all
shams, Fox came to insist that the hat should never
be removed as a sign of the inferiority of one man to
another, that no merely complimentary titles should
1 See Robert Barclay, The Inner Life of the Religious Societies
of the Commonwealth (London, 1879), pp. 221-52, 273, 298, 352,
5°i. 518.

294 GREAT MEN OF THE CHRISTIAN CHURCH
be used,1 and that individuals however highly placed,
should be addressed as "thou" and "thee" instead
of by the plural "you," which then implied a defer
ence to rank which its employment no longer signi
fies. Since all true religious life is, in his opinion,
inward, he rejected all outward sacraments as un
necessary. To his thinking, the Calvinistic division
of mankind into the elect and the reprobate is un
warranted, and the Holy Spirit moves effectively on
ah hearts that will welcome his influence. In sym
pathy with many earlier religious movements, he
understood the New Testament and the " inner light"
alike as prohibiting the use of judicial oaths or any
appeal to arms or other employment of force.
With these principles and peculiarities, and mas
tered by a profound consciousness of a divine call,
Fox began his mission as a preacher in 1647. Fanat
ical, extravagant in language, denunciatory, he
aroused immense opposition and was met with every
insult. Ridicule was heaped upon him. He was
beaten, stoned, and set in the stocks. In 1650 and
1651 he spent a year as a prisoner in Derby jail— an
experience to be followed by at least seven other
imprisonments in various parts of England, the last
of which was not ended till 1678. But while Fox
encountered hostility from most, his transparent
spiritual sincerity, his earnestness, his courage,
1 Fox did not reject legal titles, such as "king," "protector,"
"justice," etc.

GEORGE FOX 295
and the impression that he conveyed of being
the bearer of a message not his own, won many
converts, mostly, indeed, from the middle and lower
classes, but some of wealth and station. Men like
Cromwell, who were far from sympathizing with his
peculiar views, respected his sincerity and acknowl
edged his power. Soon others proclaimed his doc
trines. By 1654 no less than sixty missionaries of
the Quaker faith were traveling throughout England.
In 1656 they crossed the Atlantic to Massachusetts,
and, before 1660, had borne their testimony in Scot
land, Ireland, Germany, France, Switzerland, Italy,
Turkey, Palestine, and the West India islands — in
many of these lands without any permanent effect.
As with Fox, so with his followers, persecution was a
frequent experience. At the restoration of the
Stuart monarchy, in 1660, no less than 3,170 Quakers
were in English jails, and by 1661 four had been
hanged in Massachusetts. Undoubtedly these early
Quakers did much by fanatical attacks and extrava
gant conduct to excite hostility; but as the move
ment grew in age its extremer manifestations rapidly
disappeared, to be followed by the sobriety and good
order that soon became characteristic of the society.
When freed from prison and till disabled by the
infirmities of age, Fox manifested a restless activity.
He preached throughout the length and breadth of
England. Between 1671 and 1673 he visited Barba-
does and Jamaica, going thence by way of Maryland,

296 GREAT MEN OF THE CHRISTIAN CHURCH
Delaware, New Jersey, and Long Island, to Rhode
Island, and, on his return, as far south as North
Carolina, everywhere advancing the cause which he
had at heart. This long journey through what
were slave-holding lands strengthened in him the
sense already expressed in 1656 of the evil of hu
man bondage and its essential unrighteousness — a
conviction which the Friends were to entertain more
deeply and to make more effective than any other
Christian body. With less success he visited Hol
land in 1677 and 1684, the journey on the former
occasion being extended to Germany.
On October 27, 1669, Fox married one of his early
disciples, who had become a widow, Margaret Fell,
possessed of property and position, whose home,
Swarthmore Hall, had long been a refuge for the
Quakers. A woman of high character and like
spirit, she aided and supplemented his work, and
survived him by more than a decade. The greatest
trophy of the early activities of the Quakers was un
doubtedly WiUiam Penn. Born in 1644, the son of
Admiral Sir William Penn, he enjoyed the best cul
ture and education that England afforded. Always
of a mystically religious frame of mind, he came
under Quaker influences, and in 1667 threw in his
lot wholly with the society, which he defended in
vigorous pamphlets, and in common with the hum
bler members of which he suffered repeated im
prisonment. Nevertheless, his political influence

GEORGE FOX 297
was always large. By that influence he was able to
bring to a realization a wish that Fox had entertained
since 1660, that Quakers should possess some terri
tory in which they might enjoy across the Atlantic
a freedom not theirs in England.
After a rather unsatisfying connection with the
affairs of New Jersey, beginning in 1674, Penn se
cured from Charles II in compensation for claims
on the English treasury which he had inherited from
his father, the charter of Pennsylvania, under date
of March 4, 1681. The result was the immediate
settlement, under Penn's leadership, of what has
become one of the greatest of American common
wealths. Its government, as established by Penn,
was of large liberality. Religious freedom in high
degree was allowed. Fairness marked its relations
with the Indians. Industry and thrift were pro
moted. The Quaker "experiment" must rank
among the most successful of American colonial
enterprises, though its course was not without great
trials and much political friction, for Penn's colony
attracted many who were not Quakers, notably from
Germany as well as from the homeland.
It may be remarked that throughout the eighteenth
century the Quaker body was the communion of
Christians which was perhaps the most widely dis
tributed geographically of any in British America.
Numbering perhaps 50,000 by 1760, it was never as
large as several other religious communions, but it

298 GREAT MEN OF THE CHRISTIAN CHURCH
was broadly scattered throughout the colonies that
became the United States.
Fox's last years were full of Christian confidence
and peace. He saw his society relieved of most of
its civil disabilities by the Toleration Act of 1689.
It was never in more flourishing state than when he
died, on January 13, 169 1, in London. His end was
triumphant. To those who stood by his bedside he
declared, using the technical language of the piety of
his day, "All is well; the Seed of God reigns over all
and over death itself."1 His fame must ever be that
of one of the most forceful religious leaders that
Anglo-Saxon Christendom has produced. From
Fox's death, the Society which he had founded ceased
to advance with any rapidity, and soon came sensibly
to decline in adherents. But its contributions to
human freedom, abolition of slavery, prison reform,
and the betterment of social and industrial condi
tions have been out of all proportion to the relative
scantiness of its numbers.
In the judgment of most branches of the Christian
church, Fox was far too radical in his rejection of
what he deemed the harmful externals of worship
and organization. To the thought of most Chris
tians, the church needs an established and educated
ministry, an orderly and regular service, and the
visible sacraments. But to recognize that he rejected
much that long Christian experience has approved
T Jones, op. cit., II, 578.

GEORGE FOX 299
is not to deny the purity of his intentions, or the
value of much of his work. He hated all shams and
pretenses. He was the enemy of aU formalism
in worship, however formal his followers have
shown themselves in dress, speech, and behavior.
He asserted that the life must be the expression of
the faith. He declared that all men are capable of
accepting the gospel offer. He taught the essential
spiritual equality of all believers. But his greatest
contribution was his conception of the "inner light."
In an age which shut up all divine revelation
in the pages of a Book, he maintained that the
Holy Spirit speaks directly and revealingly now to
the believer; not merely operates on the believer's
heart to produce faith as all Protestantism held, but
guides, illuminates, and directs. That truth alone,
if Fox had made no other contribution to religious
thought, is enough to give him place among those to
whom Christian life owes much.
QUESTIONS
1. How did the English Reformation differ from that on
the Continent? What degree of Protestantism was repre
sented by Henry VIII ?
2. What parties were dominant under Edward VI and
Mary ? Were either representative of England as a whole ?
3. What was the religious policy of Elizabeth ? In what
respects was it successful? Why was it disliked by the
Puritans ? What was her attitude toward them ? Why ?
4. What was the religious condition of England under

300 GREAT MEN OF THE CHRISTIAN CHURCH
James I and Charles I? Why the civil wars? What was
the attitude of Puritanism toward a state church? Its
theological convictions ?
5. Describe the early life of George Fox. His conver
sion? His sense of divine revelations? His criticisms of
existing religion ?
6. Why did Fox criticize the ministers? Why was not
an education sufficient ?
7. What was Fox's doctrine of the "inner light" ?
8. Describe other peculiarities of Fox's religious belief.
9 What were Fox's qualities as a preacher? How was
he treated ? His success ?
10. What was the early growth of the Quakers? Their
missionary zeal? Fox's journeys to America, Holland, and
Germany ?
11. The value of William Penn to the Quaker cause?
Pennsylvania, its foundation and characteristics ?
12. Fox's marriage, last days, and death ?
13. The limitations and the services of his movement?
Its permanent value ?
ADDITIONAL READING
Rufus M. Jones, George Fox: An Autobiography (Philadel
phia, 1903).
Thomas Hodgkin, George Fox (London, 1896).
A. C. Thomas and R. H. Thomas, The History of the Society
of Friends in America, "American Church History"
Series (New York, 1894), Vol. XII, 163-308.

NICOLAUS LUDWIG VON ZINZENDORF

XVII
NICOLAUS LUDWIG VON ZINZENDORF
In all Protestant lands the fresh, creative epoch of
the Reformation was followed by a new formalism.
The lesser men, who succeeded the great reformers,
looked upon their work as essentially complete. The
Bible was regarded as the source of truth; but its
teachings were viewed as fully and finally garnered
into the theological systems of the Reformation age.
A new scholasticism arose, as dry as that of the Mid
dle Ages. This was particularly the case in Ger
many, where it has been well said that for the author
ity of the mediaeval church was substituted the
authority of the new theologians. Great weight was
laid on "pure doctrine." Much was made of the
church as an institution, of the corporate and official
aspects of Christianity, and of the sacraments as of
themselves placing their serious-minded receivers in
the sure ranks of Christian discipleship. The con
scious personal relation to Christ sank into the back
ground, and for it was largely substituted a concep
tion of the Christian life which saw as its essential
features orthodoxy of doctrine, faithful attendance
on public worship, and employment of the sacra
ments which the church offered. This condition has
sometimes, though not quite justly, been called " dead
orthodoxy." 3°3

304 GREAT MEN OF THE CHRISTIAN CHURCH
The great reaction from this formal conception of
the Christian life was that known in Germany as
"Pietism," and it had for its leader Philipp Jakob
Spener. Born in 1635, at Rappoltsweiler in Alsace,
he grew up under strong religious impressions, which
were intensified by acquaintance with the writings
of the German ascetic-mystic, Johann Arndt, and
translations of the works of English Puritans.1
Graduation at the University of Strassburg was fol
lowed by sojourns in Basel and Geneva and by his
settlement, in 1666, as chief pastor in the important
Lutheran city of Frankfort. Convinced that the
religious life of the city was at a low ebb, Spener, in
1670, gathered a little company of like-minded men
and women in his house twice weekly for pious read
ing and religious conversation. To these meetings
the name Collegia pietatis was soon given. Five
years later, Spener published his Pia desideria, in
which he recommended the establishment of similar
collegia, mutual watch, a strenuous, rather ascetic,
Christian life, better care of the morals and Christian
character of theological students, and simpler and
more spiritual preaching. Spener's thought was
that a kernel of experiential Christians should be
gathered in each congregation which should cultivate
1 The writer owes much to the admirable articles in Hauck's
Realencyklopiidie by Griinberg on "Spener," XVIII, 609-22;
by Forster-Halle on "Francke," VI, 150-58; by Mirbt on "Piet
ism," XV, 774-815; and by Gottschick on "Adiaphora," I,
174-76.

NICOLAUS LUDWIG VON ZINZENDORF 305
a stricter and warmer Christian life with the hope of
ultimately leavening the whole. He felt that only
those who had been "born again" by a conscious
Christian experience — "conversion" — were fitted for
this work or should have a place in the ministry.
Spener's views won friends and aroused opposition,
so that, in 1686, he accepted a call to become preacher
at the Saxon court in Dresden. Here his troubles
were but increased. The theological faculties of the
universities of Leipzig and Wittenberg attacked him
as unorthodox and as of Puritan strictness in his con
ception of the Christian life. Though a Lutheran
in his own belief, the comparative indifference with
which he regarded what seemed to him minor theo
logical divergences so long as "the heart" is right,
was regarded by orthodox Lutherans as treason to
"pure doctrine." Many supported him, however,
and soon German Protestantism was divided into
two camps. Plain-spoken pastoral admonitions to
the Saxon Elector made his further stay at Dresden
uncomfortable, and he was glad to accept a call to
Berlin in 1691, where he found greater peace and
exercised a large influence till his death in 1705.
Spener's most eminent disciple was August Her
mann Francke. Born in Liibeck in 1663, and hav
ing lost his father when but seven years old, thoughts
of Christian service in the ministry were awakened in
him by an elder sister, and, after a course of study in
Kiel and Leipzig, he became, in 1685, an instructor

306 GREAT MEN OF THE CHRISTIAN CHURCH
in the university of the city last named. Here he
labored to advance the study of the Bible. In 1687,
in further preparation for the ministry, he went to
Liineburg, and there, as he was writing a sermon on
John 20:31, an experience came to him which he
ever after regarded as his "conversion." It seemed
to him that he had passed from death to spiritual life.
A few months later he made a long visit to Spener in
Dresden, and began a personal intimacy that was to
continue till the latter' s death. On the resumption
of his teaching in Leipzig, in 1689, he began lecturing
with a great following on the Scriptures and was an
energetic leader in a warmer spiritual life among the
students. Some of the latter, however, in their new
found enthusiasm, began to despise their ordinary
studies as worldly and unnecessary; the hostility of
Francke's colleagues in the faculty was aroused, and,
in 1690, he accepted a pastorate in Erfurt. Opposi
tion followed him thither, and the next year he had
to leave this new post. Through Spener's influence
he obtained a pastorate, however, in Glaucha, near
Halle, and the promise of a professorship in the new
university which was opened in 1694, at the place
last named, under Prussian auspices. Thanks to
Francke and Spener, the University of Halle became
the home of Pietism, and Francke continued its
most influential professor till his death in 1727.
Francke was a man of many-sided activities as a
pastor, a teacher, and a reformer. He built up a

NICOLAUS LUDWIG VON ZINZENDORF 307
great preparatory school, the Paedagogium, and a
most useful orphan asylum in Halle — a remarkable
foundation, established by a multitude of gifts re
ceived, so Francke believed, in answer to prayer —
and one doing honored work to the present day.
With it was soon associated the institution for printing
and distributing the Bible, founded by Francke's
friend, Baron von Canstein in 17 10, and still carrying
forward its activities. When King Frederick IV, of
Denmark, wished to establish one of the earliest of
Protestant missions in India in 1705, it was among
Francke's disciples in Halle that he found his first
missionaries, and in Francke himself that he had his
most earnest supporter.
The pietistic conception of religion, as represented
by Francke and his disciples, was thus earnest, con
secrated, self-denying, benevolent, and marked by
missionary zeal. It was strenuous in its attitude
toward amusements, dress, and luxury. Dancing,
the theater, and cards, which the older Lutherans
largely looked upon as "indifferent matters" regard
ing which a Christian could do as he pleased, were
viewed by the Pietists as hindrances to the Christian
life and to be forbidden. So far was this tendency
carried that the children in the orphan house in Halle
were not allowed to play. Entrance on the Christian
hfe was looked upon as normally by a conscious
"conversion." The faults of the Pietists were those
which often beset strenuous and earnest reformers.

308 GREAT MEN OF THE CHRISTL\N CHURCH
Convinced of the need of a warmer religious life,
they were too much disposed to minimize the value
of the church, its services and ordinances, and the
real Christianity of those who did not think as they
did; but that they did a great and a needed work in
Germany there can be no question.
That work in one of its most peculiar and per
manent forms is to be seen in the achievements of
Nicolaus Ludwig, Count of Zinzendorf, the reor-
ganizer of the Moravians. Grandson of a nobleman
who had left Austria for his religious convictions,
and son of a trusted servant of the Elector of Saxony,
Zinzendorf was born in Dresden on May 26, 1700.
Spener was his godfather at his baptism. His father
died when the boy was but six months old, his
mother married a second time, and his training came
into the hands of his grandmother, the earnest, piet
istic Baroness of Gersdorf — a correspondent of
Spener and Francke. From his earliest childhood
Zinzendorf manifested the glowing personal love for
Christ — not merely as his Lord but as the truest and
nearest of friends, which was to be the prime trait of
his religious experience to the end of his life.
When ten years old, the boy was sent to Francke's
Paedagogium in Halle, where his pietistic tendencies
were intensified and he soon became a leader among
his youthful companions. He organized little prayer
meetings, he became interested in missions, and,
when fifteen, established among his schoolmates an

NICOLAUS LUDWIG VON ZINZENDORF 309
"Order of the Grain of Mustard Seed"1 for the pro
motion of the Kingdom of God. Zinzendorf's
guardian, an uncle, thinking this zeal unhealthful,
sent him, in 17 16, to the orthodox Lutheran Uni
versity of Wittenberg, where he studied law for the
next three years. They were a time of growth. His
pietistic principles remained firm in essentials; but
they were broadened and shorn of many extrava
gances. Then followed two years of travel, includ
ing Holland and France in his route. Amid the
corruptions of the French court, then notorious for
its profligacy, he maintained his convictions, and he
returned to Dresden, in 172 1, to enter the service of
the Saxon Elector, a man of ripened experience and
unshaken religious character.
Political life was begun, however, only to please his
relatives, and Zinzendorf would have much pre
ferred the ministry. Most of his life at Dresden was
devoted to rehgious conversation. A meeting for
Christian edification was held every Sunday afternoon
in his own house. The opportunity soon came in an
unexpected way for a much larger service that was to
prove his life-work. The remains of the old Hussite
movement, the United Brethren (Unitas Fratrum),1
which had flourished exceedingly in Bohemia and
Moravia at the time of the Reformation, had been
nearly crushed during the Thirty Years' War, and
were subject to severe persecution. A revival was in
« Matt. 13:31. 2 See ante, p. 212.

310 GREAT MEN OF THE CHRISTIAN CHURCH
progress under a Moravian carpenter, Christian
David, and the "Brethren" were casting about for
some place of refuge in Protestant lands. This they
found on Zinzendorf's estates, and in 1722 David
began the establishment of the town of Herrnhut.
With them Zinzendorf entered into close association,
and soon religious-minded people of aU shades of
theologie opinion and of most various origins were
flocking to this new Christian community. The
thought was that here a town could be erected, in
habited only by Christians, separate from the
"world," a real "communion of saints." It was a
free and social monasticism, without celibacy, but,
like monasticism, seeking to live the Christian life
under peculiarly favorable conditions and apart from
the grosser temptations.
A community of such varied origin could not find
its bond in strict doctrinal unity. Zinzendorf sought it
in love, and in careful regulation of the hfe of its mem
bers under a constitution of peculiar strenuousness.
He wished to remain in as close connection as possible
with the Lutheran communion of his birth, but he
found it necessary to preserve the old Moravian
forms, and, in 1727, the Herrnhut company was
organized with bishop, priests, and deacons. In
spite of these names, the church organization really
depended on the congregation, and in its government
laymen had a large share. The affairs of the com
munity were administered by a common board; the

NICOLAUS LUDWIG VON ZINZENDORF 311
widows, maids, and young men were lodged and
supervised in separate houses, and with distinctive
clothing; an elaborate and in many respects beauti
ful liturgy soon voiced public worship. From 1727
Zinzendorf was the guiding spirit of the Herrnhut
community, and, ten years later, he received formal
ordination as bishop in the reorganized Moravian
church, or "United Brethren" as the body preferred
to style itself, using its historic designation.
Zinzendorf's impulses had always been strongly
missionary, and he saw in all who were moved by
love to Christ the children of God. He even at
tempted to influence the Roman and Greek churches.
His chief effort within the realm of Protestantism
was, however, to found separated "societies," more
or less resembling that at Herrnhut, made up of those
whom he believed to be real Christians, as judged by
his pietistic tests. These he did not deem a separate
church, but associations for a warmer Christian life
within the various churches. His communion he
ever regarded as the true people of God, separated
from the world, and largely shielded from its tempta
tions. Soon branch "societies" were formed in
various parts of Germany, in HoUand, in England,
and in Pennsylvania. The noblest work of Mora-
vianism, and that most expressive of Zinzendorf's
own character, was that of foreign missions. On
a visit to the Danish capital, Copenhagen, to be pres
ent at the coronation of King Christian VI, in 1731,

312 GREAT MEN OF THE CHRISTIAN CHURCH
Zinzendorf met a negro from the Danish West India
Islands, and was impressed with the needs of the
race there held in slavery. As a result, the first of
the noble army of Moravian missionaries, Leonhard
Dober and David Nitschmann, set forth from Herrn
hut on their way to St. Thomas, in 1732. The
establishment of other missions speedily followed.
In 1733 Greenland was entered; in 1734, Lapland;
in 1735 efforts were begun among the American
Indians in Georgia; in 1737 the African Guinea
Coast was reached and work was begun among the
Hottentots of South Africa, also; in 1738 South
American Guiana was invaded, and labors in Cey
lon and Algeria were commenced two years later.
The year 1771 saw the establishment, after many
failures, of a successful mission in Labrador. These
are but part of the regions to which the gospel was
carried by indefatigable Moravian zeal; and a glance
at their names shows a prime characteristic of these
missions. They are prevailingly the hard and neg
lected fields of the earth. In many of them the
Moravians have been conspicuously successful, carry
ing on their work at marvelously smaU cost, with
unwearied patience and heroic consecration. First
of all Protestant bodies the Moravian communion
awoke, as a whole, to the importance of missions;
and, in proportion to its numbers, its missionary
activity to this day far exceeds that of any other
branch of the Christian church. Certainly, this one

NICOLAUS LUDWIG VON ZINZENDORF 313
result of Zinzendorf's work, had he done nothing
else, would shed an abiding luster on his name.
From his first connection with the Moravians,
Zinzendorf and the communion of which he was the
head had to endure bitter criticism, not only from
orthodox Lutherans but even from the older Pietists.
Much of this was not without considerable founda
tion. Zinzendorf's basal principle of love found at
first too often, even in him, a sentimental expression.
The Moravian hymns were objectionable to many
earnest Christians by reason of their presentation
under very earthly images of the relation of the be
liever to his Lord. The communion, in 1741,
formally chose Christ as its chief elder, and believed
his will to be made known by casting lots. It re
garded itself as embracing in far too exclusive a sense
"the true Children of God." It strove to regulate
in a really obnoxious way the most private and
sacred relations of family life. As time went on,
however, these excrescences were gradually pruned
away. The experiences of the Moravians were, in
this regard, much the same as those of the early
Quakers. The first extravagances gave place to
sobriety and order.
Zinzendorf himself had to suffer from this opposi
tion more than mere unpopularity. The Saxon
government, probably moved by the complaints of
the Austrian authorities that he gave a shelter to
persecuted Austrian subjects, banished him in 1736.

314 GREAT MEN OF THE CHRISTIAN CHURCH
This sentence but enlarged the sphere of Zinzendorf's
activities. He labored in various parts of Germany,
HoUand, Switzerland, England, the West India
islands, and North America. From December,
1741, to January, 1743, he made his home in Penn
sylvania. Here he strove to unite the religious forces
of the German settlers of the commonwealth in a
spirit of broad Christian charity. He served as
pastor of the Lutheran congregation in Philadelphia.
He sowed the seeds of Moravian societies in " Beth
lehem, Nazareth, Philadelphia, Hebron, Heidelberg,
Lancaster, and York in Pennsylvania, and in New
York City and on Staten Island."1 He established
a new Herrnhut, at Bethlehem, where American
Moravianism stiU has one of its chief homes. He
even attempted to do something, by personal effort,
toward spreading the gospel among the Indians of
the great Iroquois confederacy, and provided for
prosecution of this enterprise in which David Zeis-
berger was soon to win so fair a name. Much of
Zinzendorf's time, during his long exile, was spent in
rapid journeyings to superintend and promote the
cause he had at heart; and nowhere was his con
spicuous talent as an organizer more clearly exhibited
than in the results of this restless activity.
A change of sentiment favorable to Zinzendorf was
effected in the Saxon government itself. In 1747
1 J. T. Hamilton, A History of the Unitas Fratrum, "Ameri
can Church History" Series (New York, 1895), VIII, 451.

NICOLAUS LUDWIG VON ZINZENDORF 315
the sentence of banishment was revoked, and, two
years later, primarily to secure greater political
security, the Moravian body acknowledged the
Augsburg Confession, the basal creed of the Lutheran
churches, as the expression of its faith.1 This act
wrought no change in its purpose, aims, or organiza
tion. Zinzendorf was now practically freed from all
hindrances. He continued his active supervision
and his wide-extended travels almost till his death,
which occurred in Herrnhut, in the confidence of the
Christian faith, on May 9, 1760. Fortunate in his
leadership, the Moravian body was equally happy in
his successor, August Gottlieb Spangenberg (1704-
1792), in no sense a creative genius like Zinzendorf,
but a man of conservatism, strong common-sense,
and great administrative abilities, who knew how to
continue and improve the work of his great prede
cessor, and to repress its more extravagant features
without abating the effectiveness of its zeal.
Zinzendorf's character had its lights and its
shadows. Of unbounded enthusiasm, great mission
ary zeal, and sincerity of consecration, he was yet
inclined to what always seems to the Anglo-Saxon
temperament a sentimental type of religion, and he
would use a scriptural symbol or figurative expres
sion as the basis of an extensive flight of spiritual
1 The same year the Moravians in England were favored with
exemptions (from oaths, jury duty, and certain military services)
by act of Parliament, which also declared that their bishops were
in apostolical succession.

316 GREAT MEN OF THE CHRISTL\N CHURCH
imagination. But in him positive services to the
Kingdom of God far outweighed any shortcomings
or defects. He was an organizer of marvelous talent.
He devoted position, wealth, above all himself, to his
cause, whidi was that of his Master. He voiced his
piety in hymns, some of which, like " Jesus still lead
on, till our rest be won," have been beloved of the
church universal. Few men have shown such per
sonal devotion to Christ, and he gave the true ground-
note of his character in his declaration to his Herrnhut
congregation; "I have only one passion. It is He,
none but He. " QUESTIONS
i. Did the period succeeding the Reformation maintain the
spiritual zeal of that movement? Its characteristics?
2. What was "Pietism" ? Outline the life of Spener.
3. How did Spener attempt to advance vital religion?
His collegia ? The type of Christianity which he represented ?
4. What was Francke's early religious history? His
"conversion"? How did he become a professor in Halle?
What importance did Halle have for Pietism?
5. What were Francke's institutions in Halle? Their
work? 6. What was the attitude of Pietism toward amusements ?
What were the merits of Pietism ?
7. Describe Zinzendorf's life. Its religious traits? His
education ? The " Order of the Grain of Mustard Seed" ?
8. Who were the Moravians? What did they call them
selves ? From what ancient movement were they descended ?
Who was Christian David ?
9. How did Zinzendorf come in contact with the Mora-

NICOLAUS LUDWIG VON ZINZENDORF 317
vians? Their reorganization? Herrnhut? What was its
aim and how was it organized ?
10. How did Moravian missions begin? Some lands in
which they labored? The characteristics of Moravian
missions? The missionary zeal of the Moravians?
11. What were some of the criticisms which Zinzendorf
and the Moravian movement had to endure ? Why ?
12. What office did Zinzendorf hold in the Moravian
church ? His abilities as an organizer ? His banishment, its
effects ? His work in America ? Recall to Saxony ?
13. Zinzendorf's later life and death? His character?
ADDITIONAL READING
J. T. Hamilton, The Moravian Church in the United States,
"American Church History" Series (New York, 1895),
VIII, 425-508.
A. C. Thompson, Moravian Missions (New York), 1895.

JOHN WESLEY

XVIII
JOHN WESLEY
It is a fact of frequent observation that questions
which profoundly arouse the feelings of one age lose
their vital interest for its successor. Seemingly of
overwhelming importance to one or two generations,
they come to be viewed with apathy. Such was the
fate of the great religious conflict which convulsed
England in the seventeenth century. Long before
the Toleration Act of 1689 gave a larger, though
imperfect, freedom to Dissenters from the national
\\ church, the old Puritan fire had burned low. There
was little in the England of 1700 to lead one to imagine
that it had been the intensely aroused land of 1650.
The great struggle had brought, indeed, permanent
enlargements of religious and political freedom. The
uniformity which Archbishop Laud had desired was
as dead an issue as were the ideals of the Stuart
monarchy which he had served. The religious con
dition of the land was, however, one of relative
lethargy. Neither among Dissenters nor in the
Church of England was a vigorous and out-reaching
religious hfe extensively apparent.
Among the classes of the population distinguished
by station or intelligence, the older doctrinal positions
were widely regarded as outgrown. The fashion-
321

322 GREAT MEN OF THE CHRISTIAN CHURCH
able world had long since scorned everything that
savored of Puritanism. Among thinking men the
new philosophy just introduced by John Locke, and
the new discoveries of science, of which Sir Isaac
Newton's law of gravitation was but the most bril
liant, were shaking the older theologies, though the
leaders mentioned were themselves Christian men.
The new conception of the universe as a realm of
law thus introduced was demanding adjustment.
The result in not a few minds was Deism. That
system of thought recognized the world as the work
of an all-wise creator, who, however, does not inter
fere in its ongoing either by revelation or by provi
dence. With many, religion was looked upon as an
essentially baseless superstition, which learned men
could afford to repudiate privately, but which ought
to be maintained because of its police value over the
ignorant. The lower classes, though almost absolutely un
affected by the attitude of mind just noted among
their superiors in station, were in a condition of al
most unbelievable ignorance, coarseness, and neglect.
The administration of law, though ferocious in its
severity, was unable to give adequate pubhc security.
The jails were sinks of physical and moral rottenness.
Drunkenness was frightfully prevalent. The condi
tion of the common people in city and country alike
was one of brutality.
There were, indeed, men of character, ability, and

JOHN WESLEY 323
spiritual insight among the ministry of the Establish
ment and in the dissenting churches. Never perhaps
in English history has there been a more brilliant
group of intellectual defenders of historic and rational
Christianity than in the years that immediately
preceded Wesley's activity. The names of Arch
deacon Daniel Waterland, Bishop George Berkeley,
and Bishop Joseph Butler, to mention no others, must
always shine in the story of the earlier decades of the
eighteenth century. Nor was earnest piety without
its representatives. From the High-churchman, Wil
liam Law, to the Congregational hymn-writer, Isaac
Watts, no section of religious England was without
men of warm-hearted religious feeling. But the pre
vailing type of preaching was that of the passionless
essay on moral duties, and the heated controversies
of the seventeenth century had led to a widespread
reaction which dreaded anything of "enthusiasm,"
or, as we should say, fanaticism, in the pulpit
or in conduct. Preaching was intellectual and un-
stimulating. Appeals to the fundamental religious
feelings were exceedingly rare, and were regarded as
scarcely fitting.
It was high time that a new and effective presenta
tion of the gospel should be made, that the neglected
emotional nature of men should be roused to religious
activity, and the masses outside the churches should
be sought. That England was regenerated spiritu
ally and awakened as never before, was, humanly

324 GREAT MEN OF THE CHRISTIAN CHURCH
speaking, the work of two men of transcendent
abilities, John Wesley, the organizer of Methodism,
and George Whitefield, the greatest preacher of the
eighteenth century.
John Wesley was born in Epworth, Lincolnshire,
where his father, Rev. Samuel Wesley, was rector,
on June 17, 1703.1 His father was a hard-working,
earnest head of a rather remote country parish. His
mother, Susannah (Annesley), was a woman of
unusual talents, intellectual powers, and spiritual
gifts, from whom the son drew much of what he after
ward became. In a household of nineteen children,
even though only ten survived the perils of infancy,
the financial problem was always a pressing one;
but the brothers and sisters grew up under their
mother's instruction, with more than usual cultiva
tion of manner as weh as of mind, and in spite of a
plainness of speech one toward another which almost
savored of bluntness, with great mutual affection.
One event of John's boyhood made an indelible
impression on his mind. He was rescued, at the
last moment, from the fire that destroyed the rec
tory, and it seemed to him that he was literally "a
brand plucked from the burning." A sense of the
immediacy of divine providence was characteristic
of the boy from his earliest childhood.
When a little more than ten, Wesley entered the
1 "Old style." In the reformed dating now in use the day
would be June 28.

JOHN WESLEY 325
/ famous Charterhouse School in London, and thence
passed, at seventeen, to the University of Oxford.
In both he was distinguished for scholarship, but the
warm piety of his early home life sank to a low level.
Still, it was not extinguished; and in September,
i 1725, he was ordained to the ministry of the Church
of England. He now conscientiously read good
books, and was specially impressed by WiUiam Law's
Serious Call,1 which came into his hands soon after
he was chosen a fellow of Lincoln College, Oxford.
' As Wesley himself said, it convinced him " more than
ever of the impossibility of being half a Christian,
and [he] determined to be ah devoted to God."
Law's writings may be called the seed from which
early Methodism sprang.
Wesley now entered on the active ministry. From
August, 1727, to November, 1729, he served as his
father's curate in the parish of his boyhood. In the
month last mentioned he returned to Oxford to
assume the duties of his fellowship. Meanwhile, in
his absence from Oxford, important events had taken
place there. Charles Wesley, his younger brother,
who was to be the poet of Methodism, then a student
in Oxford, had gathered a few like-minded associates
into a little club, for the cultivation of the Christian
life. They were "High-churchmen" in their sym-
1 A Serious Call to a Holy Life, published in 1728. Dr.
Samuel Johnson described it as "the finest piece of hortatory
theology in any language. "

326 GREAT MEN OF THE CHRISTIAN CHURCH
pathies, and they ordered their lives by strict rule,
partaking of the sacraments, visiting prisoners, fast
ing, and seeking mutual edification. This earnest
ness and regularity aroused the derision of the
student body, and soon led to the nickname, "Meth
odists."1 Of this fellowship John Wesley became
the leader on his return to Oxford in 1729. George
Whitefield joined the little company in 1735.
Though Oxford was thus the cradle of Methodism,
none of its leaders was destined to make that seat
of learning his home. In 1735, John and Charles
Wesley sailed for Georgia, then a colony planned
largely on a philanthropic basis by James Edward
Oglethorpe. Here John Wesley remained till late
in 1737. It was not a pleasant experience. Wesley
was a High-churchman. His views were strict and
censorious; and his refusal to administer the com
munion to Miss Sophy Hopkey, after she had become
Mrs. Williamson, was unfortunate in view of the
courtship that had existed between them before that
lady's marriage. Wesley, always a keen judge of
men, was not marked by skill in insight into feminine
character. His Georgia mission was practicaUy a
failure. For his own spiritual development it was,
however, of the highest importance. On the voyage
out and in Georgia he was thrown much into the
company of Moravians, and was convinced that they
1 The name was not newly invented. See, on its earlier use,
Tyerman, Life and Times of the Rev. John Wesley, I, 67.

JOHN WESLEY 327
had a depth of religious experience which he had not
yet acquired. Returned to London, he imme
diately sought out the Moravians, and was greatly
influenced by one of their leaders in that city, Peter
Bohler. He attended the Moravian meetings, and
in one of them, on May 24, 1738, had the remarkable
experience which he ever after viewed as his "con
version." While Luther's preface to his commen
tary on the Epistle to the Romans was being read,
Wesley records: "I felt my heart strangely warmed.
I felt I did trust in Christ, Christ alone, for salvation;
and an assurance was given me that he had taken
away my sins, even mine."1 A similar experience
had come to Charles Wesley three days before, and
to Whitefield a httle earlier.
Wesley was a man of prompt action. He would
know more of the Moravians, and early in June he
started for Germany to meet Zinzendorf and visit
Herrnhut. He was greatly impressed with the eager
and emotional piety that he witnessed. His debt
to Moravian influences was permanent. But Wes
ley's good sense kept him from sympathy with the
more extravagant features of early Moravianism,
and, in particular, from the adoption of the Moravian
plan of separate towns. Christians should not with
draw from the world, but work in it, where its temp
tations were the strongest and the powers of evil most
firmly intrenched.
1 John Wesley's Journal, abridged edition (Cincinnati, 1903),
P-5i-

328 GREAT MEN OF THE CHRISTIAN CHURCH
Wesley's return from Germany was foUowed by
endeavors to preach the gospel as he now understood
it, in which Whitefield fully shared. The churches,
however, were generally, though not always, closed
to them as fanatics by the rectors in charge; and,
therefore, in February, 1739, Whitefield began
preaching in the fields. Such an innovation dis
tressed Wesley's High-churchmanship ; but he felt
the gospel must be preached, and, in April following,
he adopted the same method of reaching the people.
Both were great preachers, but in effective popular
address Whitefield was undoubtedly the greater.
Such preaching England had not heard for years.
Intense, emotional, calling for immediate, conscious
conversion, it pressed the message on the attention
of men for whom the ordinary discourses of the time
had little attraction. It appealed to the heart. It
depicted the danger of neglect of Christ and the
terrors of the hereafter in lurid vividness; but it
urged none the less clearly the forgiving grace of God,
and the possibilities of fuU consecration to his service.
Its emotional effectiveness was extreme. In the
earlier years both of Whitefield's and of Wesley's
preaching, faintings, hysterics, and outcries of dis
tress were not uncommon accompaniments of the
sermons; but the number profoundly and perma
nently awakened to the Christian hope was very great.
The preachers encountered ridicule, calumny, and
mob violence of all kinds; but they made themselves

JOHN WESLEY 329
heard, and it was a ministry largely to the unchurched
and neglected that soon won abundant fruitage.
This preaching was notably successful in Bristol
and its vicinity, and there, in 1739, Wesley began the
erection of the first Methodist place of worship — a
task involving great and unanticipated financial re
sponsibilities. The titles of these " chapels," as they
were called, since the name "church" was popu
larly used for the edifices of the English Establish
ment, were long generaUy vested in Wesley himself.
The same year, 1739, the "Foundry" was made the
center of Methodist meetings in London. The
chapels soon became very numerous; and a device
originally adopted in 1742, as a means of raising the
heavy debt on that in Bristol, not only proved finan-
ciaUy effective, but was soon made one of the chief
spiritual agencies of Methodism. The congregation
was composed chiefly of the poor. It was divided
into groups of twelve, each member of which was
pledged to give a penny a week to a coUector. . Wes
ley's keen organizing genius saw at once that the
coUector might wisely become the spiritual super
visor of his group, and that these bands of associates
might aid each other's religious life by testimony as
to their experiences and temptations. The result
was the "class-meeting," which was at once ex
tended to all Methodism, and has proved one of its
most useful features.1
1 Journal, op. cit., pp. 123, 124; Tyerman, I, 377-80.

330 GREAT MEN OF THE CHRISTIAN CHURCH
Wesley had at first built his work largely on the
basis of "religious societies," which had existed for
at least half a century before his active labors began
as voluntary associations for the cultivation of the
religious life. These had afforded a ready door for
Moravianism; and the society in London with which
Wesley was chiefly associated was essentially a Mora
vian body. But Wesley came to feel justly that
English Moravianism was marked by extravagances,
while the London Moravians in turn viewed him
as not acceptable to themselves. The result was
that, on July 23, 1740, the "United Society" met
in London as a distinctly Methodist body, and from
that event organized Methodism may be dated.1
Meanwhile the work was growing with great rapid
ity, and the groups of disciples required preachers
and leaders. Wesley's High-churchmanship revolted
against the employment of any but ordained men;
but few clergymen were sympathetic, and he soon
saw that if his work was to be extended he must use
the aid of laymen. Begun in one instance as early
as 1739, by 1741 lay preachers had become a regular
and greatly employed feature of Methodism. At
the first Wesley personally superintended aU stations
and directed the preachers in them; but the task soon
became physically impossible. Unable to go to
1 Journal, op. cit., p. 100; Tyerman, I, 309, 310. Wesley
traced the beginnings of the "United Society" to a rather informal
gathering for prayer and conference begun in London in Decem
ber, 1739. See Tyerman, I, 278.

JOHN WESLEY 331
them aU, he, therefore, in 1744, began the practice
of having the preachers come to him. The result
was the annual " Conference,"1 ultimately to become
the cornerstone of the governmental system of
Methodism. These preachers were uneducated for
the most part, and Wesley saw that, though earnest,
their usefulness in a field was likely to be speedily
exhausted. Many stations also were smaU, and several
could profitably be served in succession by the same
speaker. He therefore changed their place of serv
ice frequently, and sent the more gifted of them on
wide-extended missionary tours. The result was
"itinerancy." Neighboring preaching stations were
grouped in "circuits," to which these evangelists as
weU as the abler Methodist leaders ministered in
rotation. Thus, by 1746, Wesley had mapped out
the main features of Methodism. It was no creation
of a moment; but a growth, a marvelous adjustment
of means to ends; and the result was such a presenta
tion of the gospel to the common people as England
had never before witnessed.
Wesley himself was the most indefatigable of
workers. Of middle height, and slender frame, he
was of iron endurance. Ordinarily he rose at four
in the morning, and his waking hours were fiUed with
restless activities. Without serious home cares, for
his marriage in 1751, with a widow, Mrs. Vazeille,
was uncongenial and unfortunate, he was able to
1 Tyerman, I, 441-48.

332 GREAT MEN OF THE CHRISTIAN CHURCH
devote himself wholly to his task. For fifty years he
preached on the average of five hundred times
annuaUy. In that half-century he rode no less than
250,000 miles on horseback. He supervised all the
details of the Methodist movement, appointed preach
ers, settled disputes, and yet found time to be busy
constantly with his pen. His courage was unshakable.
No mob-violence affrighted him, no opposition could
thwart his purpose. His faults were the defects of
such a temperament. He was occasionaUy over
self-reliant. He inclined to be dictatorial. In con
troversy he was sometimes contemptuous. He was
undoubtedly superstitious, holding to the reality of
witchcraft, and deciding actions of importance by lot,
or by the first verse of Scripture on which his eyes
might chance to fall. But his virtues far outweighed
his faults. In singleness of aim, sincerity of conse
cration, and unselfish devotion to his cause he had
not a superior in Christian history.
Wesley's humanitarian sympathies were wide. He
detested slavery; and described the slave-trade in
1772 as "that execrable sum of aU villainies."1 He
favored Sunday schools and endeavored to extend
their use. He welcomed the work of John Howard
for prison and hospital reform. Wesley was not a
constructive theologian; though in middle life he
engaged much in theological controversy, especiaUy
with Calvinists, whose system he regarded as funda-
1 Tyerman, III, 114.

JOHN WESLEY 333
mentaUy immoral. His early companion, White-
field, was one of those from whom this was a cause
of separation for a time. He regarded a conscious
"conversion" as the normal means of entrance on
the Christian life; and believed Christian perfection
obtainable by the disciple, so that, though a man is
stiU liable to ignorance and error and needs Christ's
constant forgiveness, yet " no wrong temper remains
in the soul, and aU thoughts, words, and actions are
governed by pure love."1 In its theology he and
his movement were reactionary, reproducing the
thoughts of an earlier Protestantism rather than the
views which were then beginning to be entertained
and which have since profoundly and widely modi
fied conceptions of Christian truth; but in his evan
gelic and humanitarian enthusiasm he was a leader
in the transformation of his age and a prophet of the
future. Wesley had no wish to break with the Church of
England, though it is not easy to see how his move
ment could have been adjusted to it without material
alterations in its constitution and worship. He
long caUed his congregations simply "societies," and
would suffer none but episcopally ordained men to
administer the sacraments. The breach came in
1784, in consequence of the American Revolution.
Methodism had been introduced into the American
colonies, in New York City, by immigrants under
1 Ibid., II, 346.

334 GREAT MEN OF THE CHRISTIAN CHURCH
the spiritual leadership of Philip Embury, in 1766.
The work grew rapidly. In 1773, the first American
Methodist "Conference" was held in Philadelphia.
But the American Methodists were without ordained
leaders, and the separation of the United States from
the mother country made the release of American
Methodism from British control desirable. Accord
ingly, in 1780, Wesley applied to the Bishop of Lon
don to ordain a minister for America. The candi
date was refused, and, after mature deliberation,
four years later, Wesley took the matter into his own
hands. In September, 1784, in Bristol, he himself
ordained Richard Whatcoat and Thomas Vasey
for the American ministry, and consecrated Rev.
Thomas Coke, already a priest of the church of
England, as "superintendent" for the same work —
a title which was soon transformed in America,
apparently by Coke himself, into that of "bishop."1
A year later, in a similar way, Wesley ordained min
isters for Scotland; and ultimately for service in
England itself. This was a complete breach with
the Establishment. Methodism was now provided
with its own self-perpetuating ministry.
One further act of 1784 completed the develop
ment of Methodism as an independent communion.
In that eventful year, by a "Deed of Declaration"
executed by Wesley and recorded in the Court of
Chancery of Great Britain, the "Conference" was
¦ Tyerman, HI, 331-34, 426-41.

JOHN WESLEY 335
given fuU legal status, its membership defined, and
its authority to appoint, control, and expel preachers
asserted. In its keeping the determination of the
ministers of the Methodist chapels, then three hun
dred and fifty-nine in number, was placed. This
was a resignation, freely made, by Wesley himself,
to the representatives of the communion he had
founded, of the control over it which he had thus
far exercised. It was a wise and far-seeing act.
It made Methodism self-governing and self-perpetu
ating, and it is not the least evidence of Wesley's
unselfishness and organizing skiU. The master who
had created and governed knew when to release his
control. Wesley continued his work in remarkable vigor to
the end of his long life. Of his early associates,
Whitefield died in 1770, and Charles Wesley in 1788.
TiU the summer of 1789 he found his strength of
body scarcely abated. TiU a few days before his
death he continued preaching, and his long itinerat
ing journeys lasted almost to the end. He died in
London, March 2, 1791, having nearly reached the
age of eighty-eight. It was in the fulness of an
accomplished work that places him first among Eng
lish-speaking Christian leaders. No other of his
race has been so extensive or so abiding in his influ
ence for good.
At Wesley's death Methodism in Great Britain
and the United States numbered 214 circuits, 507

33& GREAT MEN OF THE CHRISTIAN CHURCH
preachers, and 119,735 members. In the period
which has since elapsed it has steadily and rapidly
advanced, and nowhere so conspicuously as in
America. It now counts as of its ministry not less
than 50,596 ordained men, besides its host of lay-
preachers, and reckons its membership at 8,537,874.
But organized Methodism, great as it was and is, is
only a part of the results of the Methodist movement.
It revived the religious life of England. It formed
the Christianity of a large part of America. It
stimulated philanthropy, encouraged missions, and
remade the Christian ideals of a large part of the
English-speaking peoples. In a measure granted
to no other of his nationality and speech Wesley
realized his ideal: "I look upon all the world as my
parish." QUESTIONS
1. What was the effect of the decline of the Puritan con
troversy on the religious life of England ? What was Deism ?
What the state of the higher classes ?
2. What was the condition of the lower classes? Were
there able men in the ministry? Why was their work rela
tively inefficient ?
3. When and where was Wesley born? What was his
parentage and education ? What his abilities as a scholar ?
4. What books influenced Wesley religiously? How did
Methodism begin in Oxford ? Who were the leaders of the
club ? . How was it regarded by the students generally ?
5. What can be said of Wesley's sojourn in America?
Under what influences did he come ? Why were they of value
to him ?

JOHN WESLEY 337
6. What were the time and circumstances of Wesley's
"conversion"? What journey immediately followed it?
Why? 7. What were the characteristics of Wesley's and White-
field's preaching ? How was it received ?
8. Where did Wesley establish his first "chapels" ? What
was the origin of the "class-meeting"? How came Wesley
to separate from the Moravians ?
9. Why did Wesley adopt lay-preaching, itinerancy, and
circuits? What was the origin of the "Conference"? What
Wesley's authority over the Methodist movement ?
10. What were some of Wesley's personal characteristics ?
His humanitarian zeal ? His theology ?
11. How did Wesley come to ordain ministers? Signifi
cance of the step ? When did American Methodism begin ?
12. How and when did Wesley resign his authority to the
"Conference" ? The nature and effects of their action?
13. Wesley's death? The greatness of his work? Its
significance ?
ADDITIONAL READING
John Wesley's Journal, abridged edition (Cincinnati, 1903).
Caleb T. Winchester, The Life of John Wesley (New York,
1906).
W. H. Fitchett, Wesley and His Century (London, 1906).

JONATHAN EDWARDS

XIX
JONATHAN EDWARDS
The New England colonies were founded under
strong religious impulse. Whatever other factors
entered into the determination of their settlers to
cross the Atlantic, religion had undoubtedly the
first place in forming their decision. To a degree
probably unequaled in other European colonization,
rehgion was a universal interest among these immi
grants. Their faith, like that of English Puritanism
from which they sprang, was of the Calvinistic type,
strongly insistent on the sovereignty of God, the duty
of entire obedience to his will, the helplessness of man
to do right without God's transforming grace, and
the natural fruitage of that grace in strong, conscien
tious character. Like the Puritans generaUy, they
believed that the people should have some share in
the government of church and state; and they carried
this principle much farther than most Puritans, with
resultant Congregationalism in church government,
and a large degree of democracy in civil institutions.
The intense religious fervor of the immigrants was
not inherited, however, in its fulness by their children.
In large measure such a result was inevitable. The
first generation had been picked men and women in
whom religion had been largely the principle of selec-
341

342 GREAT MEN OF THE CHRISTLA.N CHURCH
tion. Their children represented more nearly the aver
age type of the English race. Certain special causes
contributed, however, to the same decline. The
isolation of the settlements on the edge of a new con
tinent, the constant struggle with the wilderness, and
the presence of savage foes, were factors tending to
weaken the ascendency of spiritual interests and to
lower the high ideal of life. These were combated,
with considerable success, by a devoted ministry
and by educational institutions which had their
crown in the founding of Harvard in 1636, and of
Yale in 1701; but it was nevertheless true that the
New England of the first third of the eighteenth cen
tury had greatly declined in religious fervor from the
New England of the founders a century earlier. From
that state of comparative lethargy the land was to be
aroused by religious revivals, culminating in the
" Great Awakening" of 1740-42, and in those revivals
one of the foremost figures was to be that of the man
who was also the ablest theologian and most powerful
thinker that colonial New England produced, Jona
than Edwards. In him are to be seen the qualities of
his age and country in their most characteristic, and
at the same time in their noblest, development.
Jonathan Edwards was born in what is now South
Windsor, Connecticut, on October 5, 1703, the same
year that witnessed the birth of John Wesley. His
father, Timothy Edwards, was pastor of the church
in that parish, and a man of marked inteUectual

JONATHAN EDWARDS 343
abilities; his mother was a daughter of Solomon
Stoddard, the distinguished minister of Northampton,
Massachusetts. He was the only son among eleven
children. By heredity and training he was a typical
representative of that class of conspicuous leader
ship in colonial New England which sought service
in the Christian ministry. His early education was
in his father's study; but he developed, even in boy
hood, an innate keenness of observation of the(ways
of nature and a capacity for intelligent reasoning that
were prophetic of his maturer powers. When not
quite thirteen years old, in 17 16, he entered Yale
CoUege. That recently founded seat of learning
had as yet no certain home, and much of Edwards'
course was spent in Wethersfield; but 'before its
close the coUege had ceased wandering, and in New
Haven he graduated, in 1720, at the head of his class.
For the next two years he remained at the coUege
engaged in further study. In these student days he
not only read such philosophical works as he could
procure, but began to formulate ideas of his own
which show that had he been later less absorbed in
theology, he might have been one of the greatest of
the philosophers of the eighteenth century.
Always religious by nature, Edwards, not far from
the time of his graduation, had an experience resem
bling that of Wesley, though even more mystical in
form than the latter's "conversion." As he was
reading the Pauline ascription : " Now unto the King

344 GREAT MEN OF THE CHRISTIAN CHURCH
eternal, immortal, invisible, the only wise God, be
honor and glory for ever and ever, Amen,"1 there
came into his soul " a sense of the glory of the Divine
Being." He thought: " How exceUent a Being that
was, and how happy [he] should be if [he] might enjoy
that God .... and be as it were swallowed up in
Him forever. "2 This mystical sense of the presence
and reality of God and of the possibility of union of
soul with him was to Edwards ever after the guiding
principle of his religious life. God was henceforth
not merely the most real of beings, but the dearest
object of devotion. A Christian life without outgo
ing affection toward God and cheerful and acquies
cent submission to aU God's dealings with men was
henceforth inconceivable for him. This led him to
hearty acceptance of those Calvinistic doctrines of
divine sovereignty which had heretofore seemed
unpalatable to him; and the Calvinistic system, in
its essential features, was to have in him its ablest
American exponent.
A few months of preaching in New York City,
in 1722 and 1723, ripened the youthful Edwards'
spiritual nature by pastoral experience. To this
period, when not yet twenty years old, belong his
remarkable series of resolutions, of which one of the
most characteristic is: "Never to do any manner of
1 I Tim. 1:17.
2 Edwards' own narrative, in S. E. Dwight, The Life of
President Edwards (New York, 1830), p. 60.

JONATHAN EDWARDS 345
thing, whether in soul or body, less or more, but
what tends to the glory of God, nor be, nor suffer it,
if I can possibly avoid it."1 His services were now
sought by several churches; but, from 1724 to 1726,
he fiUed with much ability a tutorship in Yale Col
lege. Probably one inducing cause of his return to
New Haven was the residence in that town of the
remarkable woman whom he was to marry on July
28, 1727 — Sarah Pierpont, a daughter of Rev. James
Pierpont, the New Haven pastor from 1685 to 1714.
She was indeed weU worthy of his regard, and the
union thus instituted was to be of the happiest. With
unusual susceptibility to deep religious emotion, Mrs.
Edwards combined executive force, social charm,
and sweet, womanly leadership. A few months
prior to this marriage Edwards accepted a call to
become colleague pastor with his grandfather,
Solomon Stoddard, in the care of the church in
Northampton, Massachusetts. To this charge he
was ordained on February 15, 1727, and the death
of Stoddard two years later left the pastorate wholly
to him.
Edwards was at once marked as a preacher of
power. As in England before the work of Wesley
and Whitefield, the characteristic preaching of the
time was unemotional and httle calculated to arouse
strenuous feeling. Edwards' theologie position and
his type of preaching were largely a return to those
1 In full, Dwight, op. cit., pp. 68-73.

346 GREAT MEN OF THE CHRISTIAN CHURCH
characteristic of the founders of New England. In
marked contrast to Wesley, his doctrine was intensely
Calvinistic. The intellectual note was more evident
than in the discourses of the great English evangelist.
But, like Wesley, Edwards appealed powerfully to
the emotions, though more by the matter of his
message than by its form. In sermons of tremen
dous logical power, and often of vivid, sometimes
lurid, imagery, he set forth God's absolute sovereign
right to deal with men either in salvation or damna
tion, the joys of the Christian life, and the fearful
terrors which he held to be the certain lot of the
wicked. Such preaching had powerful effect. In
December, 1734, a "revival," lasting some months,
began in Northampton, that soon attracted public
interest not merely in America but in Great
Britain.1 Naturally one whose own ministry was so evangel
istic welcomed George Whitefield when that greatest
of English preachers made his meteoric tour of New
England in 1740. It seemed as if the successes of
his own Northampton ministry were now repeated on
a scale commensurate with the English-speaking
colonies. Wherever Whitefield went his congrega
tions were as wax in his hands. Men cried out and
women fainted. The work thus begun was taken up
1 At the instance of Rev. Drs. Isaac Watts and John Guyse,
Edwards prepared an account, to be found in any edition of his
Works, and generally known as the Narrative of Surprising Con-

JONATHAN EDWARDS 347
by many evangelists, among whom Edwards himself
was conspicuous, and the period of tremendous
religious upheaval from 1740 to 1742 is known as
the "Great Awakening." To Edwards it seemed
at first the dawn of the millennial age. But, intense
as it was for the time being, the movement soon spent
its force, and it left behind a wake of division and
controversy as to its real value. In Edwards the
revival had a vigorous defender, though he was not
blind to its extravagances; and after it had passed,
he wrote, in 1746, in calm retrospect, his noble
Treatise Concerning Religious Affections, in which
he attempted to answer the question, "What is the
nature of true religion?" To Edwards' thinking
nothing deserves the name of religion that falls short
of an absolute change of disposition, wrought by the
Holy Spirit, and showing itself in unselfish love for
divine things because they are holy, in meekness,
tenderness of heart, and a life of Christian conduct
toward one's feUow-men.
These experiences produced one change of impor
tance in Edwards' own thinking. The church of
which he was pastor had so far departed, under his
grandfather's leadership, from original New England
practice, as to admit all serious-minded seekers,
whether consciously Christians or not, to the Lord's
Supper. Edwards was now convinced of the wrong
fulness of the custom, and not only refused further
admissions on such terms, but wrote powerfuUy

348 GREAT MEN OF THE CHRISTIAN CHURCH
against it in his Humble Inquiry of 1749-' Tnis
change of practice, and certain mismanaged cases
of discipline, turned his congregation against him.
Great as he was as a thinker and a preacher, Edwards
had little skiU in handling men. The result was a
distressing dispute, issuing in his dismissal from the
Northampton pastorate in June, 1750.
Driven from his parish, at the age of forty-seven,
with a family of ten children, he ultimately found
employment in 1751, in the little frontier village of
Stockbridge, Massachusetts, as pastor of its church
and as the missionary of the English " Society for
Propagating the Gospel in New England" to the
Housatonic Indians there settled. To him the
change was in many ways an exile, but it gave him
the relative leisure and opportunity to write the works
on which his fame as a theologian and as a philos
opher rests. To Edwards the years in Stockbridge
were his intellectual harvest time.
Of Edwards' four treatises, written in this event
ful period, that on Freedom of Will," published in
1754, is the most famous, though not perhaps the
most influential. It was reared as a bulwark in
1 An Humble Inquiry into the Rules of the Word of God,
Concerning the Qualification Requisite to a Compleat Standing and
Full Communion in the Visible Christian Church (Boston, 1749).
3 A Careful and Strict Enquiry into the Modem Prevailing
Notions of That Freedom of Will Which Is Supposed to Be Essen
tial to Moral Agency, Vertue and Vice, Reward and Punishment,
Praise and Blame (Boston, 1754).

JONATHAN EDWARDS 349
defense of what Edwards believed a threatened Cal
vinism, and endeavors to show that man has sufficient
freedom to be responsible for his actions, that he is
not forced to act counter to his inclination, and yet
that that inclination depends on what man deems
his highest good. While man has full natural power
to serve God — that is, could freely serve God if he
had such an inclination — he will not serve God till God
reveals himself to man as his highest good and thus
renders obedience to God man's strongest motive.
Edwards sought thus to maintain God's absolute
sovereignty and complete disposal of his creatures,
while holding men yet responsible. No keener argu
ment in favor of this cardinal tenet of Calvinism
has ever been advanced ; yet the work is one so out of
sympathy with the prevailing religious thought of the
present age that is now largely neglected.
Even less present sympathy is commanded by
Edwards' exposition of Original Sin,1 issued in
1758. He affirms the utter corruption of mankind
at whatever stage of existence from infancy to old
age, and traces that evil state to our share in Adam's
sin by a theory more ingenious than convincing.
That which makes the individual man the same being
today he was yesterday is the constant creative
activity of God. In like manner, God, by an "arbi
trary constitution, " has made aU men one with Adam,
so that his primal sin is really theirs also.
1 The Great Christian Doctrine of Original Sin Defended
(Boston, 1758).

350 GREAT MEN OF THE CHRISTIAN CHURCH
The two works just described were published in
Edwards' lifetime; but two further discussions had
been completed and were issued seven years after
his death. One was Concerning the End for Which
God Created the World, and had for its purpose to
demonstrate that the manifestation of the glory of
the creator, and the largest happiness of human
beings, far from being incompatible purposes, as had
been generally supposed, were "really one and the
same thing." The universe in its highest possible
state of happiness is the completest exhibition of the
divine glory.
Most influential on New England thinking of any
of Edwards' writings, though not so famous as his
Freedom of Will, was the second of these posthumous
publications, his Nature of True Virtue. In his think
ing all virtue may be reduced to a single elemental
principle. It is benevolence or love toward intelhgent
being in proportion to the amount of being which
each personality possesses. No love less wide than
this can be really good. Judged by this standard, a
man must love God and his fellow-men more than
he does himself. As interpreted by popular thought,
it taught that sin is selfishness and righteousness is
disinterested love to God and to one's fellows. No
wonder that the earliest American foreign mission
aries came from the ranks of Edwards' disciples.
In these works the American mind reached the
highest level it attained in the eighteenth century.

JONATHAN EDWARDS 351
They won widespread respect for their author as a
man of genius, and they made thousands of theo
logical disciples. It seemed as if Edwards was to
have further opportunities to impress his thoughts
and character on young men as the head of a school
of learning. Princeton College had been founded
in 1746, in hearty sympathy with the warm-hearted,
revivalistic type of piety in furtherance of which
Edwards had done such service. In 1757 he was
caUed to its presidency. He hesitated to accept.
Stockbridge afforded him the opportunity of quiet
study and leisure for writing. Yet the possibility of
influencing men in their formative years which the
headship of Princeton would afford was not to be
dechned. Early in 1758 he removed to the scene of
his new work. The smaU-pox was raging, and as a
preventive measure he had himself inoculated. The
disease, although usually mild under such circum
stances, took an unfavorable turn, and on March 22,
1758, he died.
No man more fittingly symbohzes eighteenth-
century New England at its best than Jonathan
Edwards. High-minded, upright in all his deahngs,
learned, a devoted preacher, and a theologian of
surpassing power, he represented that love of learn
ing, that carefulness of conduct, and that sense of
the primacy of the concerns of the soul, which was
characteristic of his people in their noblest develop
ment — often, unfortunately, unrealized in the average

352 GREAT MEN OF THE CHRISTIAN CHUKCH
man of that or any other age. His controversies are
now ancient issues from which interest has largely
vanished. His theology was molded by the view
points of his age, and awakens only a partial response
in the present. But one characteristic abides in
power and must forever hnk him with the great men
of all Christian history. He had — and in a peculiar
degree he made men feel that he had — a conscious
ness of the reality and presence of God. God was
not to him a being remote and obscure. He was
the closest of friends, the highest object of his loy
alty, his adoration, and his love. That he walked
close with God must always be the deepest impression
which Edwards makes on those who come to know
him and to understand the sources of his power.
QUESTIONS
i. What influences led to the founding of the New England
colonies ? What was the religious character of the settlers ?
2. What causes induced a decline from the religious zeal
• of the founders ?
3. When and where was Jonathan Edwards born? His
parentage and early education ? His promise as a student ?
4. What were the circumstances of Edwards' conversion?
What effect did it have on his conceptions of religion ?
5. Where did Edwards teach? With what success?
6. Whom did Edwards marry? Her character?
7. Where was Edwards' first pastorate? His character
as a preacher? The first revival? What attention did it
excite ?
8. When did Whitefield come to New England? Effect
of his preaching ? What was Edwards' relation to the revival ?

JONATHAN EDWARDS 353
9. What were the teachings of Edwards' Treatise Concern
ing Religious Affections ? What change came over his views of
the terms of admission to communion ? What effect had this
change on his relations to his Northampton church ?
10. Where was Edwards next settled ? What advantages
and disadvantages had the place for him? What was his
chief work there ?
11. Describe Edwards' Freedom of Will. What impor
tance is generally attached to it ?
12. Speak of Edwards' Original Sin. Is its argument of
permanent value ?
13. What was the aim of his treatise, Concerning the End
for Which God Created the World ?
14. What was the importance of his Nature of True
Virtue? Its conception of righteousness ?
15. What college presidency did Edwards accept? His
death ? His character ?
ADDITIONAL READING
S. E. Dwight, The Life of President Edwards (New York,
1830).
Alexander V. G. Allen, Jonathan Edwards (Boston, 1889).
Williston Walker, Ten New England Leaders (Boston, 1901),
pp. 215-63.

HORACE BUSHNELL

XX
HORACE BUSHNELL
Though the "Great Awakening" of 1740-42
aroused what are now the New England and the
middle states more intensely while it lasted than any
other revival in their history, its effects speedily
passed. As a whole, the eighteenth century was a
period of religious decline in American history.
The struggle for independence, which was but the
severest of several wars in which public interest was
profoundly enlisted, and the absorbing discussions
which resulted in the formation of the Constitution of
the United States, turned men's minds largely from
spiritual interests. With the conclusion of these
debates, however, a new and protracted period of
religious awakening began. Commencing in 1792,
and continuing at intervals tiU 1858, great revivals
occurred in New England, the middle and southern
states, and the new West of that age which is now
the central region of the United States. It was a
time of universal quickening. Evangelists, of whom
Rev. Charles G. Finney may be mentioned as typical,
preached with constant evidence of power to move
men. Itinerant missionaries of Methodism, and
ministers of Baptist, Presbyterian, Congregational,
and other communions carried the gospel message
to the new settlers on the ever-extending frontier and
357

358 GREAT MEN OF THE CHRISTIAN CHURCH
organized them into churches. Ministerial train
ing received a great impetus through the establish
ment of theological seminaries. Foreign missions
were inaugurated in 1810. Temperance reform be
gan its beneficent work before the nineteenth century
had far advanced. The agitation against slavery
more and more enlisted attention from the fourth
decade of that century tiU its settlement in the tre
mendous struggle between the states. The long
period from 1792 to 1865 was, beyond any other in
American history, one of religious growth and of
quickening of public conscience on questions of
moral reform.
In its dominant theological problems, its attitude
toward theology in general, and its conception of the
Christian life this period still bore the mighty impress
of the leaders of the eighteenth century. With
Wesley, Whitefield, and Edwards, men felt that the
normal method of entrance into the Kingdom of
God was by a conscious surrender — a "conversion."
To secure such conversions was the object of revival
effort. Salvation was emphasized in its individual
rather than its social aspects.
The questions with which that period concerned
itself in theology were essentiaUy those which
Edwards had made prominent; and as with the
eighteenth-century thinkers, theology was regarded
as capable of as exact, and as fundamentaUy intel
lectual, definition as the problems of geometry.

HORACE BUSHNELL 359
Theology was based on the apprehensions of the
understanding rather than on the feelings, and, being
so based, was largely in bondage to formalism in
logical method and definition. This conception of
theology trained a race of giant wrestlers; but it
tended to magnify intellectual differences in the
apprehension of relatively minor aspects of Christian
truth into barriers scarcely to be passed. No period
in our religious history has therefore been more
prolific in denominational divisions.
Contemporary with this period, however, modi
fications of a very wide-reaching character were tak
ing place in theology in Germany and England. The
nature and work of Christ, the authority of Scripture,
and the bases of religious truth were being re-ex
amined. The character of theologie proof was
investigated anew. These European discussions
were 'ow in influencing American thought, and their
effects were scarcely felt in the period just described,
though they have since come in as a flood. That
when they did come they created no more conflict
than actually occurred was due in considerable
measure, at least in the northeastern part of the
United States, to the work of Horace Bushnell, who
with slight knowledge of what was in progress abroad,
wrought on similar lines, presented an altered basis
for theological conviction, and made their pathway
easier for many when the time of transition and re
statement arrived.

360 GREAT MEN OF THE CHRISTIAN CHURCH
Horace BushneU was born on April 14, 1802, in
the viUage of Bantam in the township of Litchfield,
Connecticut. His parents were of sturdy, enter
prising farming stock. His father had been trained
a Methodist; his mother an Episcopalian, but both
were devoted members of the Congregational church,
which was the only place of worship in New Preston,
Connecticut, whither they removed when their son
was three years old. In New Preston, Bushnell
spent an active, hard-working boyhood; and there
he made public profession of his Christian faith when
nineteen years old in 1821. Two years later he
entered Yale, graduating in due course in 1827.
BushneU's coUege course was a time of intellectual
questioning and painful doubt. He began to fear
that religion could never be demonstrated by the
understanding — the only way in which he then knew
how to approach Christian truth. In this distressed
frame of mind he met with the Aids to Reflection,
that profoundly influential volume which the Eng
lish poet-philosopher, Samuel Taylor Coleridge, had
published in 1825. It was hard reading but it
opened to Bushnell a new world. Coleridge not
merely introduced German theology to English
readers. To him Christian truth is not so much to
be demonstrated by logic as perceived by ethical and
spiritual feeling.1 It derives its evidence "from
> The writer has made some use of his address at the cele
bration of the one-hundreth anniversary of Bushnell's birth by the
Connecticut General Association, on June 17, 1902.

HORACE BUSHNELL 361
within." These thoughts were germinal for Bush-
neU's later development. They were a radical de
parture from the type of theological demonstration
then characteristic of Anglo-Saxon thinking. They
ultimately placed religious certainty for him on a new
foundation. BushneU's doubts, however, did not immediately
vanish. On graduation he tried journalism and
next began the study of law. With that em
ployment he combined the discharge of the duties
of a tutorship in Yale which he accepted in 1829;
and in connection with his labors as instructor a
crisis in his faith and in his life-purposes came.
The year 1831 was marked by a revival in
Yale. Bushnell was distressed by his own want
of sympathy with its enthusiasm; but he felt that
he must do his duty by his students. He must
foUow such light as he had. He must "take the
principle of right" for his law. It was a turning-
point in his experience. A mighty rush of feel
ing burst the barrier of his inteUectual doubts.
As he said to his fellow-tutors: "I have a heart
as well as a head. My heart wants the Father;
my heart wants the Son; my heart wants the Holy
Ghost— and one just as much as the other. My
heart says the Bible has a Trinity for me, and I
mean to hold by my heart." "The whole sky" of
his religious firmament became "luminous about
him;" and through this gateway of the feelings

362 GREAT MEN OF THE CHRISTIAN CHURCH
BushneU entered into the freedom and certainty of
the Kingdom of God.1
Bushnell's new-found faith decided him to enter
the ministry, and, from 183 1 to 1833, he was a student
in the theological department of Yale. On May 22,
of the year last mentioned he was ordained to the
pastorate of the North Congregational Church in
Hartford, Connecticut, and so entered on the service
of the city which was to be henceforth his home.
In Hartford BushneU soon won attention as a
preacher and a public-spirited citizen. As a pastor
he was greatly beloved. Not an orator in the ordi
nary sense, his sermons and public addresses were,
nevertheless, of impressive power, and continue to
command appreciation, in published form, as among
the best productions of the American pulpit of the
nineteenth century. As a citizen, he was a man of
far-reaching vision and inspiring leadership. Hart
ford owed to him much of the impulse that led to the
introduction of public water works, and the beautiful
park which bears his name was secured, in 1853 and
1854, entirely by his efforts at a time when the public
mind had not generally awakened to the desirability
of such improvements. This breadth and vitality
of interest were the more remarkable because Bush
nell's Hartford ministry was conducted under great
physical disabilities. A tendency to pulmonary
'- Mary Bushnell Cheney, Life and Letters of Horace Bushnell
(New York, 1880), pp. 56, 59.

HORACE BUSHNELL 363
affection was evident as early as 1845. In tnat year
and the next he sought health in Europe. Ten years
later he went on the same errand to Cuba; most of
1856 was spent in California; but his disabilities so
advanced that, in 1859, he had to lay down the
burdens of the pastorate, and the remainder of his
hfe he himself aptly described as one of "broken
industry." Industrious it always was, and the
marvel was that so feeble a frame could serve the
active spirit as efficiently as it did.
BushneU's first considerable doctrinal discussion
arose, in 1847, by reason of the publication of two
Discourses on Christian Nurture.1 The age, as has
been pointed out, was dominated by conceptions of
entrance on the Christian life by a conscious, strug
gling "conversion" which Wesley and Edwards had
made prominent. Over against this teaching Bush
neU emphasized the value of family training. His
argument was "that the child should grow up a
Christian," to which he added the further explana
tion in the second edition of his work, "and never
know himself as being otherwise." "He is to open
on the world as one that is spirituaUy renewed, not
remembering the time when he went through a
technical experience, but seeming rather to have
loved what is good from his earliest years."2 Here,
' Boston and Hartford. An enlarged and revised edition was
published at New York in 1861.
2 Edition of 1861, p. 10.

364 GREAT MEN OF THE CHRISTIAN CHURCH
then, was a sweeping criticism of what most of his
contemporaries in non-prelatical American churches
believed to be the only normal mode of entrance on
the Christian life; a presentation, moreover, which
identified the natural and the supernatural as but
different sides of one divine order. Doubtless, its
emphasis, like that of the view it opposed, was one
sided. There are many doors into the Kingdom of
God. Nathanael came as truly as Paul. But, in
the existing state of religious opinion, BushneU's
doctrine encountered strenuous opposition. Yet no
theory advocated by him has won so wide acceptance,
even if it is stiU far from meeting universal approval.
A profound religious experience through which
BushneU passed in February, 1848, prepared him
for three remarkable addresses of that year, which he
gathered together in a volume and published, in
1849, as God in Christ.1 To them he prefaced a
"Dissertation on Language" in which he explained,
more fully than elsewhere, his convictions as to the
nature and limitations of theology. To his thinking,
the effort of theologians to define the exact content
of religious truth in precise logical formulas was an
attempt to achieve the impossible, since language
could have no such power. Its words are more or
less imperfect symbols of the realities they typify.
On the contrary, Christian truth is to be felt rather
than logicaUy to be demonstrated. "There is a
' Hartford.

HORACE BUSHNELL 365
perceptive power in spiritual life . . . . , an imme
diate experimental knowledge of God, by virtue of
which, and partly in the degree of which, Christian
theology is possible."1 BushneU thus voices the
appeal of Christianity to the ethical and religious
feelings. Having laid down these principles, BushneU pro
ceeded to define the Trinity and the Atonement in
terms of Christian experience. What God may be
in the depths of his infinite existence we may not
grasp, but to our finite experience he is known as
Father, Son, and Spirit. Christ's work, also, as
known by our experience of it, is not a penal satisfac
tion to God for our sins, nor a governmental expres
sion of God's moral rulership. Its effect is upon us.
It is the ultimate expression of God's outreaching
love to us, designed to draw us to him and lead us
to regard sin and holiness from his point of view.
It is not surprising that a work that controverted
then current theology at so many points aroused
great dissent, and a demand that Bushnell be sub
jected to discipline. His own local association,
though far from sympathizing in his views, declared
him not "justly subjected to a charge of heresy."
But another association brought the question before
the General Association of Connecticut by appeals in
1849 an(i I85°> which were repeated in 1852, 1853,
and 1854. It was a stormy time; but, in the end, the
1 God in Christ, p. 93.

366 GREAT MEN OF THE CHRISTIAN CHURCH
General Association refused to override the action
of the local association of which Bushnell was a mem
ber. Thenceforward he was free from the perU of
ecclesiastical discipline.
Bushnell's already feeble health was shattered by
these labors and struggles; but in his invalidism he
labored on the work which cost him most effort and
to which he devoted his maturest thought. Pub
lished at length in 1858, it bore the title, Nature and
the Supernatural as Together Constituting the One
System of God.1 Its contention is expressed in its
title. The thought of the time separated the realm
of nature and that of the supernatural by a great
gulf. A miracle was a suspension of the laws of
nature, which were for the time being as if they were
not. In opposition to these views Bushnell argued
that the two realms are in constant contact. Man
lives in both. In part of his range of life he is in the
sphere of cause and effect — of nature; in part he is
free, self-governing or sinning, not under a law of
cause and effect, but in the realm of the supernat
ural, i. e., that which is above the world of nature.
Doubtless the growth of the doctrine of evolution has
rendered obsolete much of Bushnell's argument; but
its general trend is in the direction in which modern
theology has moved, that of emphasizing the im
manence of God, and of showing that the spiritual
and the natural combine in the commonest ongoings
1 New York, 1858.

HORACE BUSHNELL 367
of everyday life no less than in the great progress of
redemption. BushneU's work was by no means accomplished
when the volume just described was given to the
world, but its more permanently influential part
had already been achieved. Two sturdy and care-
fuUy wrought treatises, having to do with the Atone
ment, were to follow — The Vicarious Sacrifice
Grounded in Principles of Universal Obligation, pub
lished in 1866, and Forgiveness and Law Grounded
in Principles Interpreted by Human Analogies, of
1874. Their argument holds that "love is a prin
ciple essentiaUy vicarious in its own nature." AU
love reaUy worthy of the name, whether in God or
man, strives to take on itself in helpful sympathy the
sufferings and sins of the object of its affection. So
Christ bore our sins in suffering for us, and so he
reveals God's love to us. It was not by his interpre
tation of specific doctrines, however, that Bushnell
influenced his age, so much as by his general attitude
toward theologie truth, and the basis of its appeal to
men. He stood for the rights of the feelings and of
Christian experience to be heard rather than for the
demonstrations of logic or the formulas which make
their appeal primarily to the intellectual faculties.
Theology with him is not an external body of truth
interpreted to the reason, but a warm, vital Christian
life of fellowship with God in Christ finding expres
sion all too inadequately through the imperfect

368 GREAT MEN OF THE CHRISTIAN CHURCH
vehicle of language. It is something to be felt before
it can fuUy be known.
With the publication of Bushnell's volume last
mentioned his work was about over. His last years
had been limited by great physical weakness; but
the spirit retained all its eager keenness till it took its
flight on February 17, 1876. His was'a remarkable
example of what may be accomplished amid the
varied duties of an exacting pastorate and under the
constant burden of disease.
Bushnell was not a theologian in the sense in which
that designation may be applied to Edwards. He
had no desire to be. He wrought out no close-
argued logical system. He believed none possible,
and he regarded it as the chief evil of contemporary
theology that men had made the endeavor. He
founded no school. No party calls itself by his name.
But he had a poet's fire of imagination, and a proph
et's perception of the reality of God. He strove
to reach back beyond the formulas in which his con
temporaries believed Christian truth to be absolutely
defined to the greater spiritual verities which they
and he alike felt, but which he regarded their for
mulas as merely symbolizing and oftentimes misrepre
senting. He sought to make the presentation of
Christianity simpler and more natural. In so doing,
he made easy for many the transition from the older
to the newer conceptions of the Christian faith. His
work touched and strengthened and broadened many

HORACE BUSHNELL 369
a mind that has been unable to accept his presenta
tions of truth in their fulness. These are his greatest
achievements, and they give him an abiding position
in the history of American religious thought.
QUESTIONS
1. Were the effects of the Great Awakening permanent?
What was the religious state of America during most of the
eighteenth century? What great movement began about
1792? 2. What were some of the results of the new revival
period ? How long did it last ?
3. What was the dominant conception of the mode of
entrance on the Christian life ? How was theology conceived ?
What changes were in progress in Europe ?
4. When and where was Horace Bushnell born? His
parentage? Religious antecedents? His Christian profes
sion ? Where did Bushnell go to college ?
5. What was the argument of Coleridge's Aids to Reflec
tion ? What was its influence on Bushnell ? What was
Bushnell's career immediately after graduation ? His religious
doubts ? How were they overcome ?
6. How did Bushnell decide to enter the ministry? His
training? His settlement? Character of his preaching?
His services as a citizen ? His health ?
7. What was the view advocated in Bushnell's Discourses
on Christian Nurture ? Why and how did it oppose the cur
rent opinion of the time ?
8. How came Bushnell to write his God in Christ? His
theory of the power of language to express religious truth?
How is Christian truth to be known ?
9. How did Bushnell apply his principles to the doctrines
of. the Trinity and the Atonement ? What efforts were made
to discipline him ?

37° GREAT MEN OF THE CHRISTIAN CHURCH
10. What was the significance of his Nature and the
Supernatural? How, in his opinion, are the two realms
related ?
n. What were Bushnell's later writings ? Their purpose ?
What was the most significant part of his teaching ?
12. Bushnell's death? His influence?
ADDITIONAL READING
[Mary Bushnell Cheney] Life and Letters of Horace Bushnell
(New York, 1880).
Theodore T. Munger, Horace Bushnell, Preacher and Theolo
gian (Boston, 1899).

INDEX

INDEX

Abelard, theologian, 178, 179.
Abraham, 13.
Adeodatus, 68, 72.
AilH, Pierre d', theologian, 210.
Albertus Magnus, theologian, 181, 183.
Albigenses, see Cathari.
Alexander, bishop of Alexandria, 51-
53-
Alexander II, Pope, 129, 130.
Alexander III, Pope, 162, 167.
Alexander of Hales, 181.
Alexandria, theological school of, 45,
46; Arianism in, 48, 50-60.
Alexios, emperor, 144, 147, 148.
Alypius, 72.
Amator, bishop of Auxerre, 93.
Ambrose, bishop of Milan, 71, 72,
103, 107.
Anabaptists, the, 293.
Anastasius, Roman emperor, 121.
Anselm, theologian, 178.
Anthony, monastic founder, 104.
Antioch, siege of, 148, 149.
Antoninus Pius, Roman emperor, 11.
Aquinas, Thomas, early life, 182; a
Dominican, 182, 183; his career,
183, 184; death, 184; his aims,
181, 182; writings, 184; the Sum
ma, 184, 185; the bases of truth,
185, 186; sin and grace, 186-88;
the sacraments, 188-90; the future
state, 191; influence, 191, 192;
mentioned, 177, 181, 197, 198.
Arcadius, Roman emperor, 91.
Argyle, the earl of, 260.
Aristotle, influence of, 180, 181, 223.
Arius, theologian, 50-56, 59, 75.
Aries, Synod of, 89.
Arndt, Johann, 304.
Athanasius, early career, 53; purpose,
54, 55; theology, 54; first banish
ment, 56; second, 57, 58; at Sar-
dica, 57; his great struggle, 58;
later exiles, 58, 60; death, 60; char
acter, 61; mentioned, 65, 103, 105,'
106.
Augsburg, the Confession of, 231, 315;
the Peace of, 231.
Augustine, theologian, early life, 67,
68; temptations, 68, 71; his son,
68, 72; intellectual awakening, 68;
dislikes the Bible, 69; a Manichae
an, 6q, 70 ; influenced by neo-
Platonism, 70, 72; professorship in

Milan, 70; influenced by Ambrose,
71, 72; conversion, 71, 72; baptism,
72; return to Africa, 73; the Con
fessions, 67, 68, 73, 80; bishop of
Hippo, 73; death, 73; influence,
74; on the church and sacraments,
75, 76, 188; on sin and grace, 76-
80, 188; mysticism, 80; his City
of God, 81; mentioned, 29, 88, 90,
91, 103, 107, 160, 178, 181, 184,
2O0, 22T, 222, 248.
Augustine, missionary, 1 20.
Augustinians, the, 219, 221, 223.
Awakening, the Great, 342, 346, 347,
357-
Baldwin, crusader, 147, 149, 151.
Baptism, 14, 15, 26, 33, 34, 78, 189,
190, 227.
Bar Cochba, 10.
Basel, Council of, 218.
Basil, the Great, theologian, 60, 106,
107.
Beaton, David, Cardinal, 256, 257.
Beaton, James, Archbishop, 256.
Benedict, monastic reformer, life,
107. 108; his "Rule," 108-12.
Berkeley, George, Bishop, 323.
Bernadone, John, see Francis.
Bernadone, Peter, 164-66.
Bernhard, of Clairvaux, theologian,
178, 179, 221.
Bible, translations of the, 161, 162,
204, 219, 229.
Bobadilla, Nicolo, 278.
Bohler, Peter, 327.
Bohemond, crusader, 146, 149, 150.
Boleyn, Anne, 262.
Bonaventura, theologian, 181.
Boniface VIII, Pope, 197.
Boniface, missionary, 120.
Borgia, Francisco, 280, 281.
Bothwell, the earl of, 266.
Bruno, bishop of Toul, 126.
Bucer, Martin, reformer, 238.
Bullinger, Heinrich, reformer, 239.
Bushnell, Horace, religious antecedents,
357-59; early life, 360; spiritual
struggles, 360-62 ; ministry, 362,
363; his Christian Nurture, 363;
his God in Christ, 364; ecclesiastical
discipline, 365, 366; later writings,
366, 367; death, 368; influence,
368, 369-

373

374 GREAT MEN OF THE CHRISTIAN CHURCH

Caelestius, 79, 80.
Cajetan, Cardinal, 225.
Calixtus I, bishop of Rome, 35, 36,
44-
Calixtus II, Pope, 135.
Calpurnius, 90.
Calvin, John, religious antecedents,
239; early life, 239; education, 240,
241; his Seneca, 241; conversion,
241-43; the Institutes, 243, 248;
settlement in Geneva, 244, 245;
in Strassburg, 245; marriage, 245;
return to Geneva, 245, 246; the
Consistory, 246; opposition, 246;
Servetus, 246; the Academy, 247;
his aims and activities, 247,
248; relations to Knox, 255, 259;
death, 248; theology, 248-51",
mentioned, 258, 277.
Canstein, Baron von, 307.
Cappel, battle of, 239.
Carlos, prince of Spain, 266.
Cassiodorius, in.
Cathari, the, 160-62, 170, 173.
Catherine de' Medici, 261.
Catholic, origin of name, 23; see,
also, Church.
Celestine, Pope, 93, 94.
Chalcedon, Council of, 65.
Charlemagne, emperor, 121-23.
Charles I, king of England, 290.
Charles V, emperor, 228, 229.
Christ, the person of, 6, 13, 36, 48-51,
53-55, 59, 65; 66; imitation of, 159,
160; the work of, 187, 221, 232,
240, 365. 367-
Christian VI, king of Denmark, 311.
Church, the "Old-Catholic," 7, 23,
24, 27, 29, 30; theories of member
ship, 34-36; Augustine's doctrine,
75; Wiclif and Huss, 201, 210;
Luther, 224, 227, 232.
Cicero, 68.
Cisnero, of Manresa, 276.
Clement, of Alexandria, 45.
Clement, of Rome, 119.
Clement IIL anti-Pope, 134.
Clement VII, anti-Pope, 205.
Cluny, the monastery and movement,
125-27, 142, 143, 147.
Coke, Thomas, 334.
Coleridge, Samuel Taylor, 360.
Columbaj missionary, 98.
Communion, see Supper.
Congregationalists, the, 289, 290.
Conrad III, emperor, 152.
Constance, Council of, 205, 211, 212,
218, 226.
Constansj Roman emperor, 56-58.
Constantine, Roman emperor, favors
Christianity, 47, 48; in the Arian

controversy, 51-53, 55. 56; men
tioned, 34, 88, 142, 148.
Constantine II, Roman emperor, 56.
Constantine VI, Roman emperor, 121.
Constantius, Roman emperor, 36-58,
60, 67.
Cop, Nicolas, 241, 242.
Cotta, Ursula, 220.
Councils, see Basel, Chalcedon, Con
stance, Ephesus, Lateran, Pisa,
Sardica.
Cromwell, Oliver, 290, 295.
Crusades, proposed by Hildebrand,
130, 131, 141; causes, 141-43; the
First Crusade, 143-51; later cru
sades, 152; results, 152-54.
Cyprian, bishop of Carthage, 45,
67, 103.
Dante, 191, 198.
Darnley, husband of Mary of Scot
land, 266.
David, Christian, 310.
Decius, Roman emperor, 43.
Diocletian, Roman emperor, 43, 74.
Dionysius, bishop of Rome, 49.
Dober, Leonhard, missionary, 312.
Dominicans, the, 181, 182, 198, 224,
275-.
Dominick, monastic founder, 164, 275.
Donatists, the, 43, 74, 75.
Dorylaeum, battle of, 148.
Duns Scotus, theologian, 181, 191.
Du Tillet, Louis, 243.
Eck, Johann Maier of, 224-26.
Edward III king of England, 199, 200.
Edward VI, king of England, 258,
259, 287.
Edwards, Jonathan, religious antece
dents, 341, 342; early life, 342, 343;
conversion, 343, 344; marriage, 345;
ministry in Northampton, 345-48;
the Religious Affections, 347; the
Humble Inquiry, 348; at Stock-
bridge, 348; the Freedom of Will,
348, 350; Original Sin, 349;
End of Creation, 350; True Virtue,
350; presidency of Princeton, 351;
death, 351; character, 351, 352;
mentioned, 358, 363, 368.
Edwards, Timothy, 342.
Embury, Philip, 334.
Elias, of Cortona, 171.
Elizabeth, queen of England, 259,
261-63, 267, 282, 288, 289.
Ephesus, Council of, 80.
Erasmus, scholar, 231.
Eusebius, bishop of Nicomedia
_ 5i, 52, 55-59-
Eustace, crusader, 147.

INDEX

375

Farel, Guillaume, reformer, 244, 245.
Fell, Margaret, 296.
Ferdinand, king of Aragon, 319, 273,
274.
Finney, Charles G., revivalist, 357.
Fox, George, conversion, 291 ; re
ligious principles, 292-94; preach
ing, 294; the Quakers, 293-99;
sufferings, 294; journeys, 295,
296; marriage, 296; death, 298;
his work, 298, 299.
Francis, of Assisi, early life, 164, 165;
conversion, 165, 166; his brother
hood, 1 66-68 ; missionary labors,
169; disappointments, 170, 171;
the stigmata, 172; death, 172;
mentioned, 161, 177, 203.
Francis I, king of France, 243.
Francis II, king of France, 261.
Franciscans, the, 166-68, 172, 173,
181, 198, 201, 277.
Francke, August Hermann, 305-8.
Frederick "Barbarossa," 152.
Frederick IV, king of Denmark, 307.
Friedrich, elector of Saxony, 225, 229.
Gelasius I, Pope, 121.
Germanus, bishop of Auxerre, 93-95*
Gersdorf, Baroness of, 308.
Gnosticism, 5-7, 23, 24, 26, 49, 69,
70, 119, 160.
Godfrey, of Bouillon, crusader, early
life, 146, 147; the march, 147—
50; "Protector of the Holy Sepul
cher," 150; death, 151; character,
151; mentioned, 159, 177.
Gregory I, Pope, 120.
Gregory VI, Pope, 127.
Gregory VII, Pope, see Hildebrand.
Gregory IX, Pope, 170.
Gregory X, Pope, 184.
Gregory XI, Pope, 201, 202, 205.
Gregory, of Nazianzen, 60, 106.
Gregory, of Nyssa, 60, 106.
Hamilton, Patrick, 256.
Harvard University, 342.
Henry HI, emperor, 123, 126, 127, 130.
Henry IV, emperor, contest with
Hildebrand, 130-35; mentioned,
141.
Henry V, emperor, 135.
Henry IV, king of England, 209.
Henry VIII, king of England, 262,
287.
Heraclitus, philosopher, 13.
Hermas, early Christian writer, 5, 104.
Hierakas, ascetic, 104.
Hildebrand, early life, 126, 127; re
form in papal elections, 128; chosen
pope, 129; his principles, 129, 130,

152; proposes a crusade, 130, 131,
141; contest with Henry IV, 130-
3 5 ; death, 1 34; character, 135;
mentioned, 121, 144, 147, 159.
Honoratus, monastic founder, 92.
Honorius, Roman emperor, 80, 91
Honorius III, Pope, 170.
Hopkey, Sophy, 326.
Hosius, bishop of Cordova, 51, 52,
57-
Hospitallers, the, 152.
Howard, John, philanthropist, 320.
Hugo, of St. Victor, theologian, 179
Huss, John, reformer, 210-13, 218,
222, 226.
Ignatius, of Antioch, 23.
Innocent I, Pope, 79, 120.
Innocent III, Pope, 163, 167.
Inquisition, the, 161.
Irenaeus, bishop of Lyons, 25-27,
66, 1 19.
Isabella, queen of Castile, 219, 273,
274.
James VI, king of Scotland (I of
England), 267, 289.
Jerome, theologian, 106.
Jerusalem, captured by Mohamme
dans, 142; won by crusaders, 150;
Latin kingdom of, 151, 152: cap
tured by Saladin, 152; Loyola in,
277.
Jesuits, see Loyola.
John, the Apostle, 25.
John XII, Pope, 122.
John, king of England, 199.
John, of Gaunt, 202, 207, 209.
Julian, Roman emperor, 59, 60.
Julius, bishop of Rome, 57.
Justin Martyr, early history, 8, 9;
conversion, 10, n; his Apology,
n-16; accusations refuted, 12, 13;
view of Christ, 13, 14; his Dialogue,
9, 14; worship at Rome, 15, 16;
martyrdom, 16-19; mentioned, 23,
76.
Kerboga, Turkish sultan, 149.
Knights, of St. John, 152.
Knights Templars, 152.
Knights, Teutonic, 152.
Knox, John, religous antecedents, 255,
256; early life, 256; conversion,
257; at St. Andrews, 257, 258;
a prisoner, 258; ministry in Eng
land, 258; at Geneva, and Frank-
tort, 259; in Scodand, 260; pastor
in Geneva, 260-62 ; the First
Blast, 261; the great struggle in
Scotland, 262, 263; Protestantism

376 GREAT MEN OF THE CHRISTIAN CHURCH

established, 263-65; contest with
Queen Mary, 265-67; death, 267.
Knox, WiUiam, 256.
Lainez, Diego, 278, 280, 281.
Landulf, 182.
Lateran Council, the, 162.
Laud, William, Archbishop, 321.
Law, William, 323, 325-
Le Fevre, Jacques, 239-
Lefevre, Pierre, 278.
Leo I, Pope, 65, 120.
Leo III, Pope, 120, 121.
Leo IX, Pope, 126, 127.
Leo X, Pope, 225.
Leo XIII, Pope, 184, 192-
Liberius, bishop of Rome, 58.
Licinius, Roman emperor, 47-
Locke, John, philosopher, 322.
Louis VII, king of France, 152.
Lollards, the, 209; see, also, Wiclit.
Loyola, Ignatius, early life, 274; con
version, 275; the Spiritual Exer
cises, 276-78; studies, 277, 278;
first disciples, 278; the Society
founded, 278; the "Company of
Jesus," 279-83; death, 280.
Lucius III, Pope, 163.
Lucius Verus, 11.
Luther, Martin, religious antecedents,
219, 220; early life, 220, 221;
spiritual struggles, 220, 221; justi
fication by faith, 77, *79, 221, 222;
the Theses, 223, 224*, the Leipzig
Disputation, 225, 226; the great
tracts, 226-28; burns the bull, 228;
at Worms, 229; in the Wartburg,
229; changing attitude, 230, 231;
marriage, 233; death,_ 231; his
work, 232, 233; mentioned, 103,
209, 217, 219, 237-39, 242, 255,
273, 287-
Major, John, theologian, 256.
Mani, religious founder, 69.
Manichaeanism, 69, 70, 74, x6o, 161.
Mar, the earl of, 260.
Marburg, Colloquy at, 231, 238.
Marcion, Gnostic, 7, 15, 31.
Marcus Aurelius, Roman emperor, n.
Marsilius, of Padua, 198.
Martin, bishop of Tours, 107.
Mary, queen of England, 259, 261, 288.
Mary, "Queen of Scots," 260-63, 265-
67.
Mary, of Guise, 259, 261-63.
Matilda, of Tuscany, 132.
Mauburnus, of Zwolle, 276.
Maxentius, Roman claimant, 47.
Maximilla, Montanist, 27.

Melanchthon, Philip, reformer, 231,
238, 258.
Methodism, 325-36; name, 326;
preaching, 328; organization, 329-
31, 333-35; extent, 335, 336.
Ministry, a priesthood, 45; Luther's
view of, 232.
Monasticism, rise of, 44, 59, 103; in
fluence on Augustine, 72-74; de
velopment of, 103-14; effects, 105,
106, IT3, 233-
Monnica, mother of Augustine, 67,
70-72.
Montanism, 27-32, 35_37, 51-
Montanus, religious enthusiast, 27.
Moravians, the, 2r3, 309-15, 326,
327, 330.
Moray, the earl of, 260, 267.
Moses, religious founder, 13.
Newton, Sii Isaac, 322.
Nicaea, Council of, 51-53, 148; cap
ture of, 148.
Nicholas I, Pope, 121, 123.
Nicholas II, Pope, 128, 130.
Nicolaitanism, 125-27, T35.
Nitschmann, David, missionary, 312.
Novatian, theologian and party leader,
43, 49-
Occam, see William of Occam.
Oglethorpe, James Edward, founder,
326.
Oldcastle, Sir John, 209.
Origen, theologian, 45, 46, 103.
Otto I, emperor, 122, 123.
Otto III, emperor, 123.
Pachomius, monastic reformer, 105,
107.
Palladius, 88, 93-95.
Papacy, its growth, 25, 35, 45, 57,
58, 65, 119-36; reform in elections,
128; its claims, 188, 189, 197; the
schism, 205 ; reformatory efforts,
218.
Patricius, father of Augustine, 67.
Patrick, t character and writings, 87;
early life, 90; name, 90, 94; slavery,
91; conversion, 91; wanderings,
91-93; identical with Palladius? 88,
94, 95; work in Ireland, 93-98;
mentioned, 103.
Paul, the Apostle, 3-5, n, 15, 26, 28,
33,48, 68, 77, 92, I72r22I, 222, 364.
Paul III, Pope, 279.
Pelagius, theologian, 75-77, 79, 80,
89, 93-
Penn, William, Quaker, 296, 297.
Pennsylvania, 297, 3T4.
Persecutions, 8, n, 12, 29, 43, 74.

INDEX

377

Peter, the Hermit, crusader, 145, 146.
Peter Lombard, theologian, 179.
Philip I, king of France, 144.
Philip II, king of France, 152.
Philip IV, king of France, 197.
Philip II, king of Spain, 266.
Pierpont, James, 345.
Pierpont, Sarah, 345.
Pietism, 304, 308.
Pippin^ the Short, Frankish king, 121.
Pisa, Council of, 218.
Plato, philosopher, 9, 14, 31.
Polycarp, of Smyrna, 25.
Pontitianus, 72.
Possidius, bishop of Calama, 67.
Pothinus, bishop of Lyons, 26.
Potitus, 90.
Poverty, "apostolic," 159, 160, 162,
166, 167, 169, 209.
Praxeas, heretic, 31, 36.
Presbyterianism, 264.
Prierias, controversialist, 224.
Princeton University, 351.
Prisca, Montanist, 27.
Protestant, the name, 231.
Puritans, the, 288-90, 304, 305, 321,
341, 342-
Quakers, see Fox.
Raymond, of Toulouse, 146, 150.
Richard I, king of England, 152.
Richard II, king of England, 207,
209, 210.
Rizzio, David, 266.
Robert, of Normandy, 146.
Rodriguez, Simon, 27S.
Rome, early worship in, 15, 16; see,
also, Papacy.
Rudolf, of Swabia, 133, 134.
Rusticus, Junius, Roman magistrate,
16-19.
Sabellius, theologian, 49.
Sacraments, the, 75, 76, 188-90, 227,
232, 249, 294, 303.
Saladin, 159.
Salmeron, Alonso, 278.
Sardica, Council of, 57, 58, 119.
Scholasticism, 177, 180, i8r, 217, 303.
Scifi, Clara, monastic founder, 168.
Scotus, see Duns.
Separatists, the, 289.
Septimius Severus, Roman emperor,
29.
Servetus, Michel, 246.
Sjgismund, emperor, 211.
Simony, 125-27, T30, 135.
Socrates, philosopher, 13.
Spangenberg, August Gottlieb, 315.
Spener, Philipp Jakob, 304-6, 308.

Staupitz, Johann von, 221.
Stephen IX, Pope, 127.
Stephen, of Blois, 146.
Stoddard, Solomon, 343, 345, 347.
Supper, the Lord's, 16, 45, 190, 206,
210, 227, 238, 282, 347, 348.
Sutn, Synod of, 123.
Symmachus, Roman governor, 70.
Tancred, crusader, 146, 182.
Templars, the, 152.
Tertullian, early life, 28; character
and conversion, 29, 30; his Montan
ism, 29-32, 35-37", service to Latin
theology^ 30, 33; writings, 30 31;
view of Christianity, 31-33; attitude
toward "heretics," 32; sense of
sin, 32, 33; on forgiveness, 34-36;
quarrel with Calixtus, 35, 36; on the
Trinity, 36; his style, a quotation,
37~39"< mentioned, 44, 46, 49, 68,
103, 119.
Tertullianists, 29.
Tetzel, Johann, 223, 224.
Theodosius, Roman emperor, 60, 71,
91, 119.
Thomas of Bradwardine, theologian,
200.
Totila, King, 108.
Trinity, the doctrine of the, 13, 36,
48-50, 75, 246, 361, 365-
Trypho, Hebrew controversialist, 9,
10, 14.
Ugolino, Cardinal, see Gregory IX.
Universities, 180.
Urban II, Pope, 143-45, *59-
Urban IV, Pope, T83.
Urban VI, Pope, 205.
Valdez, religious leader, 162-64, 166,
167, 203.
ValenSj Roman emperor, 60.
Valentinian III, Roman emperor, 120.
Valerian, roman emperor, 43.
Valerius, bishop of Hippo, 73.
Vasey, Thomas, Methodist, 334.
Victorinus, rhetorician, 72.
Waldenses, the, 162-64, 167, 1 70,
173, 212, 293.
Waldo, see Valdez.
Waterland, Daniel, 323.
Watts, Isaac, 323.
Wenzel, king of Bohemia, 211.
Wesley, Charles, 325-27, 335-
Wesley, John, religious antecedents,
321-24; early life, 324; at Oxford,
325, 326; in America, 326; meets
Moravians, 326, 327*, conversion,
327; preaching, 328; Methodism, or-

378 GREAT MEN OF THE CHRISTIAN CHURCH

ganized, 320-31, 333-35', marriage,
331*, characteristics, 331, 332;
theology, 332, 333; death, 335;
influence, 33 5, 336 ; mentioned,
203, 342, 343, 345, 346, 358, 363-
Wesley, Samuel, 324.
Wesley^ Susannah, 324.
Westminster Assembly, the, 290.
Whatcoat, Richard, Methodist, 334.
Whitefield, George, evangelist, 324,
326-28, 335, 345, 346, 358.
Wichf, John, antecedents, 199; early
career, 200; theory of "lordship,"
201; supported by John of Gaunt,
202; his "poor priests," 203, 204;
his translation of the Bible, 204;
becomes more radical, 205, 206; the
peasant revolt, 207, 208; influence
in Bohemia, 210-13; memory con
demned, 211; mentioned, 217, 222.
William, the Conqueror, 129, 199.
William, of Occam, 198.
William, the Silent, 282.
William, Thomas, reformer, 257.
Wishart, George, reformer, 257.
Worship, early Christian at Rome,

15, 16; changes^ in third century,
44, 45; monastic, no; Luther's
conception of, 233, 238; Zwingli's,
237, 238; in Scotland, 265.
Xavier, Francisco de, missionary, 278,
280.
Ximenes, Spanish reformer, 219, 274.
Yale University, 342, 343, 345, 360,
361.
Zeisberger, David, missionary, 314.
Zerbolt, of Ziitphen, 276.
Zinzendorf, Nicolaus Ludwig von,
early life, 308; type of piety, 308,
316; education, 306, 309 ; the
Moravians, 309-1 1 ; missionary
zeal, 311-13; opposition, 313, 314;
in America, 314; last days and
character, 315, 316; Wesley visits,
327-
Zosimus, Pope, 79, 80.
Zwingli, Ulnch, reformer, 231, 237-
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The Child and His Religion. By George E. Dawson.
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Jerusalem in Bible Times* By Lewis Bayles Paton.
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Studies in Galilee. By Ernest W. G. Masterman.
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