(logo)
(navigation image)
Home American Libraries | Canadian Libraries | Universal Library | Open Source Books | Project Gutenberg | Biodiversity Heritage Library | Children's Library | Additional Collections

Search: Advanced Search

Anonymous User (login or join us)Upload
See other formats

Full text of "The Catholic Reformation"

HENRY M. CHRISTMAN 



APR 4 



PLA OCT -i 1978 




3 1148 



OCT 2 1 19T(T 



270.6 J33c 60-00133 

Jaaelle 

The Catholic reformation 




SCIENCE AND CULTURE SERIES 
JOSEPH HUSSLEIN, S.J., PH.D., GENERAL EDITOR 




- / 



- (, o 



THE CATHOLIC REFORMATION 



WTTERLfBWRY I'm 

K. C., MO. m- : . , . 



OCT3H9S7 



THE CATHOLIC 
REFDRMATIDN 



B Y 



PIERRE JANELLE 

PROFESSOR IN CLERMONT UNIVERSITY 



THE BRUCE PUBLISHING COMPANY 
MILWAUKEE 



Nihil obstat: JOHN A. SCHULIEN, S.T.D., Censor librorum 

Imprimatur: % MOYSES E. KILEY, Archicpiscopus Milwaukicnsis 

Die 15 Octobris, 1948 



Copyright, 1949, The Bruce Publishing Company 
Made in the United States of America 



In loving memory 

of my father 
ERNEST JANELLE 

(1861-1940) 

to whom I owe 

the little that I am 



Preface by the General Editor 



IN HIS brief Foreword the author deems it imperative to call 
attention to the obvious impossibility of dealing in a single 
volume with every phase and circumstance of so vast and 
momentous a movement as the Catholic Reformation. Yet the 
prime value of his work consists in the fact that he has made avail- 
able, for Catholics and non-Catholics alike, an adequate and readable 
record of the characteristic features of this important event, whose 
duration extended from the fifteenth on To^JHe ^seventeenth century. 

"Few indeed would have the leisure or the patience to search 
through piled-up volumes for the information amply conveyed for 
their purpose in the chapters of this scholarly work. What they seek 
above all to learn is the nature, spirit, and ultimate result of this 
most significant movement whose importance in history, whether 
religious or secular, can hardly be overestimated. But what lends its 
particular value to this volume is the candor of its presentation com- 
bined with equal thoroughness of research. 

In fact it is a lesson by itself to learn how profoundly the results 
of religion become calculable and visible, not merely in the arts, the 
architecture, and the very conventions of mankind, but no less in the 
progress of industry and the tilling of the soil. The latter in par- 
ticular is evidenced especially in the case of retarded peoples under 
the influence, material as well as spiritual, of the Church's undaunted 
missionaries. Stress, however, is rightly laid by the author upon the 
magnificent results achieved m education, and this in every truest 
sense that could make of it a beneficient power for the progress of 
mankind. 

Whatever was humanly wrong on the part of any of the Church's 
prelates, clergy, and the laity; whatever clamored for reformation in 
regard to any of her members; whatever demanded in any place 



viii PREFACE BY THE GENERAL EDITOR 

wheresoever a more thorough and effective instruction is clearly 
and inoffensively stated. But no less vividly are we shown in turn 
these evils of the day gradually righted by devoted souls men and 
women freely dedicating their lives to God and happily bringing 
about the most glorious fruits of renovation at home and conversion 
abroad in distant lands. All this is convincingly presented on the 
sole evidence of unquestionable facts and of documents freely quoted. 

Human failings, as well we know, at any time may sadly display 
themselves on the part of certain of the Church's members, whether 
in the highest places or in the lowest ranks, yet nonetheless, for the 
Church Christ founded upon Peter, the assurance stands infallibly 
that the gates of hell shall not prevail against it. 

The solicitude, in fine, of Christ for His Church is beautifully 
expressed in the Epistle of St. Paul to the Ephesians when he says: 
"Husbands, love your wives, as Christ also loved the church, and 
delivered himself up for it: that he might sanctify it, cleansing it by 
the laver of water in the word of life: that he might present to him- 
self a glorious church, not having spot or wrinkle, or any such 
thing; but that it should be holy, and without blemish" (Eph. 5: 
25-27). In the words of the Douay commentator, the Church, as here 
described by St. Paul, "is ever obedient to Christ, and can never fall 
from him, but remains faithful to him, unspotted and unchanged to 
the end of the world." To aid their own successive generations in 
approaching ever more closely to what Christ desired of them within 
His Church was the labor of the most signal, the most illustrious, the 
most holy of the great leaders of the Catholic Reformation whom 
the reader is here favored to meet, however briefly, in this , volume. 

JOSEPH HUSSLEIN, S.J., Pn.D. 
General Editor, Science and Culture Series 
St. Louis University 
October 22, 1948 



Author s Foreword 



NO ONE can be more painfully aware than the author him- 
self of the shortcomings to be found in the present work, 
due as they largely are to the vastness of its subject matter 
the Catholic Reformation. Some, in fact, of the major aspects of 
this great movement could barely be hinted at here, within the scope 
of a single volume, while some of the very countries in which it 
flourished could be dealt with only in a summary manner, if at all. 
Nor need attention be called to the still wide possibilities of a 
development of the theological background of this subject. 

As for the bibliographies at the end of the chapters, it should be 
explained that they are meant to serve mostly as an acknowledgment 
of the main sources, and are therefore not intended to be exhaustive. 
Surprise, however, may readily be expressed that they include mostly 
French books. The reason for this does not consist merely in the 
fact that the present work has been prepared in France, and with 
the help of French libraries, but also that the literature bearing on 
the subject is more plentiful in France than anywhere else. Such 
works as Bremond's Histoire du sentiment religieux or Emile 
Male's Histoire de Tart religieux have no equivalent elsewhere. 

I owe a debt of gratitude first and foremost to the Reverend 
Father Joseph Husslein, S.J., of St. Louis University, editor of the 
Science and Culture Series, who gave me every possible encourage- 
ment and help; also to my father, Ernest Janelle, who went over the 
former half of this work, and provided much useful advice; to the 
late and much regretted professor John Swinnerton Phillimore, of 
Glasgow University, who bequeathed to me several rare books; to the 
Reverend Father de Dainville, S.J., editor of Etudes, and to the 
Reverend Fathers Bourg and de Mondadon, of the Clermont resi- 
dence of the Society of Jesus, who put their excellent library at my 



x AUTHOR'S FOREWORD 

disposal, and made valuable suggestions; to Father Leo Hicks, S.J., 
of Farm Street, London; to Messrs. Le Chapelam and Dousse, 
librarians of Clermont university library, whose assistance was gener- 
ous and unstinted; to Monsieur Renucci, lecturer in Italian at 
Clermont University; to Monsieur Burlurut, the Clermont musicol- 
ogist; and to many others, whom it is not possible to name here, 
but whose kindness will not be forgotten. 

PIERRE JANELLE 
Clermont-Ferrand 
November 5, 1946 



Contents 



PREFACE BY THE GENERAL EDITOR, vii 
AUTHOR'S FOREWORD, ix 

Chapter I. ANARCHY THE DISEASE WITHIN THE CHURCH. 

Causes of moral evil in the Church, i. Difficulties in the way of 
reform, 3. Exempt bodies inside the Church, 5. Decay of monasti- 
cism, 7. Financial malpractices in the Church, 8. Properly religious 
abuses, 10. Inferior condition of the parochial clergy, 12. Abuses 
among the regulars, 12. Enfeeblement of the Papacy, 14. Financial 
straits of the Papacy, 15 

Chapter 1L EARLY REACTIONS AGAINST DISEASE IN THE CHURCH. 

The eve of the Reformation; devotional literature, 20. Wills, 21. 
Family life, 22 Guilds; religious instruction, 23. Revival among 
the regulars, 24. The mission of Nicholas de Cusa, 26. Early refor- 
mation in France, 29. The Lateran council, 31. The French Con- 
cordat, 32. Christian humanism, 34 The Jesuit Plan, 37. 

Chapter HI. REFORMATION AGAIN DELAYED. 

Improvement of conditions at Rome, 39. Revival of devotional art, 
41. Sadolet, 42. Continuation of financial abuses, 44. The Turkish 
peril, 45. The Machiavellian spirit, 46. External difficulties of the 
Papacy, 46. Adrian VI attempts reform, 48. Various schemes of 
reform, 49. Steps taken by Adrian VI, 50. Reasons for failure, 52. 
Clement VII and nationalism, 53. Attempts at reform, 55. 

Chapter IV. PREPARING FOR TRENT. 

Reasons for delay of the council, 58. Clement VII's efforts towards 
the council, 61 His reforming activities, 62. Giberti's reforming 
action, 63. Paul III, a reformer, 65. Sad state of the Church, 66. 
Early attempts to convene a council, 68. Preparations for the holding 
of the council, 70. The Consdium delectorum cardinalium, 72. Its 
effect on reform in the Curia, 75. 



xii CONTENTS 

Chapter V. THE COUNCIL OF TRENT. 

Papal leadership at Trent, 78. Drawbacks of Trent as a seat for the 
council, 80. Sittings of the council, 80. Its composition, 83. Various 
tendencies among the Fathers, 84. The opposition of various sover- 
eigns, 85. Episcopalian opposition, 86. The Trentine decrees, 88. 
Spiritual enthusiasm of the Fathers, 89. Their Christian humanistic 
ideal, 91. Episcopal jurisdiction strengthened, 93. Papal powers 
limited, 95. Exemptions and pluralities suppressed, 95. The re- 
cruiting of the clergy, 97. Superstitious practices put down, 98. 
The popes continue the work of the council. Paul IV, 100. Pius IV 
and Borromeo, 102. Confirmation of the Trentine decrees, 103. 
The Index, 104. The Catechism, 104. The Missal, the Breviary, 
the Vulgate, 104. The ratification of the Trentine decrees, 105. 
Conclusion, 109. 

Chapter VI. THE RELIGIOUS REVIVAL AMONG THE REGULARS. 
The Oratory of Divine Love, in. Gaetano di Thiene, 112. Gian 
Pietro Caraffa, 112. The Camaldulese, the Dominicans, the Capu- 
chins, 113. The Clerks regular, 115. The Theatmes, 116. The 
Somaschi and the Barnabites, 117. The Oratory and St. Philip Neri, 
119. Conflicting tendencies in the Oratory, 122. Personality of St. 
Philip Neri, 123. The Jesuits, 124. St. Ignatius' Spiritual Exercises 
the strengthening of the will, i2 c >. "Adaptation," 127. Love, 129. The 
Constitutions, 130. The Jesuit vows, 131. Internal discipline 133. 
Working from above, 135. The government of the Society, 135. 

Chapter VII. EDUCATION AND SCHOLARSHIP. 

Predecessors of the Jesuits* the Brothers of the Common Life, 
Montaigu College, 139. The tuition there, 139. Protestant education 
first in field? 143. John Sturm, 144. The Jesuit and Oratonan 
colleges, 145. The Protestant schools less classical, 146. The Jesuit 
colleges, 147. The Ratio studwrum, 149. Pedagogy in Jesuit col- 
leges, 150. The praelectw, 152. Discipline and emulation, 153. The 
religious purpose, 155. The syllabus of studies, 156. The Oratorian 
colleges, 158. The Ursulmes, 159. The Jesuits and theology, 162. 
Bellarrnme and Baromus, 163. 

Chapter VIII. THE CATHOLIC REFORMATION AND LITERATURE. 

Licentiousness in the quattrocento; reaction of the Catholic refor- 
mation, 167. Reaction among the Christian humanists, 168. Posse- 
vinus, 170. Pontanus and "imitation," 171. Artificiality and sincerity, 
172. Epigrams, 173. Torquato Tasso's Discorsi, 174. The cycle of 
remorse* Tansillo's Lagnme, 175. His imitators, 177. Valvasone's 
Maddalena, 178. His imitators, 180. Artificiality and emotion, 181. 
The drama, 182. How prosperous, 183. Predecessors of Catholic 
reformation drama, 185. Various types, 185. National classes: 



CONTENTS xiii 

Italian drama, 186. German and French drama, 188. Theodoricus, 
188. Nabuchodonosor, 190. Felicitas, 190. Pierre Corneille and 
Polyeucte, 191. 

Chapter IX. THE CATHOLIC REFORMATION AND ART. 

General character of art of the Catholic reformation, 196. Trent 
and images, 197. Possevinus on the plastic arts, 198. Decency, 
feeling, morality, 199. Pious painters: Reappearance of mediaeval 
themes, 200. Death and the saints, 201. Nudes and fancifulness 
proscribed; truth in the painting of martyrdoms, 203. History ad- 
hered to but mediaeval legends respected, 205. Dogma asserted 
through painting, 206. The Bolognese school, 209. The Carracci 
brothers, 210. Sculpture, 211. Architecture, 211. Jesuit churches, 
212. Brother Martellange, 214. Reappearance of mediaeval tenden- 
cies, 216. Corruption of Church music in the fifteenth century, 218. 
Palestrina, 219. The Oratorio, 221. Liturgical music, 222. 

Chapter X. PIETY AND MYSTICISM. 

Optimistic piety of the Catholic reformation, 224. The mystics also 
reformers, 225. Theory of the three ways, 227. Erasmus* Enchiridion, 
228. Spanish mysticism, 229. Predecessors of St. Teresa, 230. St. 
Teresa of Jesus, 230. Her life, 231. Her mystical scheme, 233. Her 
bravery, 235. St. John of the Cross, his life, 236. His mystical 
scheme, 237. The Italian school: the spiritual fight, 238. Optimism 
of the Italian school, 240. St. Francis de Sales, 241. His sweetness 
and imagery, 242. His seventy: direction of conscience, 243. His 
spiritual scheme, 243. Its moderation, 245. The French school and 
its austerity: Pierre de Berulle, 246. Doctrine of the French school, 
247. New devotions, 249. 

Chapter XL THE CATHOLIC REFORMATION AFTER TRENT. 

The period after Trent: Pius V, 252. His reforming action, 253. 
The new liturgy, 255. Moral improvement of the clergy, secular and 
regular, 256. Gregory XIII, his reforming activity, 257. Sixtus V, 
his life, 260. His reforming activity, 260. His mistakes, 261. Suc- 
cessive popes to 1650, 262. Germany, 263. Deplorable conditions 
there, 264. First Jesuits in Germany, 265. St. Peter Canisius, 266. 
His work of education, 267. His Catechism, 268. Conversion of 
Bavaria, 269. Difficulties at Fulda, 270. Catholic revival in Ger- 
many, 271. The abbey of Melek, 273. Poland and Switzerland, 273. 

Chapter XII. THE CATHOLIC REFORMATION IN FRANCE. 

Wars of religion in France, 275. Provincial councils. The Capuchins, 
277. Jesuit colleges: College de Clermont, 278. Maldonat there, 279. 
Other colleges, 280. Charitable work of the Jesuits, 281. Caesar de 
Bus and Romillon, 283. Joan de Lestonnac, 284. St. Jane de 
Chantal, 285. The Berulle circle, 287. Father Joseph, 287. Peter de 



xiv CONTENTS 

Berulle and the Oratory, 289. Oratonan seminaries. Adrian Bour- 
doise, 291. St. John Eudes, 292. St. Vincent de Paul, 293. His 
seminaries, 295. John James Olier, 296. The provincial missions. 
St. Francis Regis, 297. The company of the Holy Sacrament, 299. 
Its social work and its faults, 300. 

Chapter XIII. THE CATHOLIC REFORMATION IN THE 
BRITISH ISLES. 

Triple nature of the Catholic reformation in the British Isles, 303. 
Religious conditions in Scotland, 304. William Elphinstone, 304. 
The statutes of Archbishop Forman, 305. Successive councils, 305. 
Canons of 1552, 307. Ireland, 308. Council of Dublin, 309. English 
Christian humanists, 310. Influence of the Trentme movement, 311. 
Provincial councils in England, 312. The Convocation of 1556, 313. 
Pole's decrees, 314. His scheme for seminaries, 316. Seminaries on 
the Continent, 318. Scottish and Irish colleges, 319. Parsons' 
Christian Directory, 319. Its gloominess, 321. Its devotional scheme, 
323. Its popularity, 325. Other devotional works, 326. Influence of 
continental devotion 326. St. Teresa and Southwell, 327. The Caro- 
line poets and Southwell, 328. Their common moral ideal, 330. 

Chapter XIV. THE MISSIONS. 

The missionary movement and the Papacy, 333. Conversion of 
Mexico, 334. Practical problems, 335. The teaching of Christianity, 
336. Priesthood refused to Indians, 337. Regulars in the province of 
Lima, 339. Their rule of life, 341. Provincial councils, 342. Jesuits 
in Brazil, 343. Jesuits in Paraguay, 344. Conditions in the East 
Indies, 345. St. Francis Xavier, life, 346. His travels, 347. His Jesuit 
temperament, 348. Immorality of the Europeans, 349. Xavier's mis- 
sionary methods, 350. His apostolate in Japan, 351. Fr. de Nobili 
in India, 353. The Chinese mission, 354. Comparison of Spanish 
and French missions in America; Conditions in Canada, 356. The 
French revival and the Canadian mission, 357. Missionary methods, 
359. Difficulties of the Canadian mission, 361. 

CONCLUSIONS. 

Unity of the Catholic reformation. The spiritual movement about 
1500, 364. The Middle Ages both superseded and continued, 365. 
Church assumes a purely spiritual character, 365. Church refrains 
from Puritanism, 366. Jesuit modernity, 366. Results of the Catholic 
reformation. The rescuing of ancient culture, 367. 

INDEX, 369 



THE CATHOLIC REFORMATION 



CHAPTER 



Anarchy, the Disease Within the Church 



IN ONE of the scenes of Marlowe's Doctor Faustus here a 
mere reproduction of its German source we are introduced 
into the pope's private chamber at the Vatican. Mephistopheles 
asks Faustus, who is eager to go and admire the marvels of ancient 
Rome, to stay awhile: 

I know you'd fain see the Pope, 
And take some part of holy Peter's feast, 
Where thou shalt see a troop of bald-pate friars, 
Whose summum bonum is in belly-cheer. 

Then the pope and the "Cardinal of Lorrain . . . enter to the 
banquet, with friars attending." They sit down at table, while 
the friars bring in "dainty dishes" sent by the bishop of Milan and 
the cardinal of Florence. But Faustus, who is invisible, snatches 
the food from them, and is therefore cursed "with bell, book and 
candle." The scene is, of course, a farce, and an unduly coarse one; 
yet it can hardly be termed a pure libel. That the moral condition 
of the clergy, and especially that of the Roman Curia, had by 
the end of the fifteenth century become deplorable, is asserted by 
eminent Catholic writers of the time, whose evidence cannot be 
gainsaid. The spirit of lucre and sensuousness was manifested in 
many abuses, especially various forms of simony, which were in 
urgent need of reformation. 

There was no need, however, of reformation such as the Protes- 
tants understood it. According to their contention, the primitive 
simplicity of the Church had become disfigured by manifold super- 
stitions, these being in turn the source of the lowering of her 
morality. Remove these superstitions, purge Christian doctrine of 
an excessive belief in the supernatural and marvellous, relieve 



2 THE CATHOLIC REFORMATION 

Christian discipline of the strain of excessive asceticism, and order 
would be restored. 

Now, if such a view were true to fact, if mediaeval superstition 
had engendered corruption, the "Eve of the Reformation" ought 
to appear as a particularly barren period, both in regard to devotion 
and virtue. Such, however, is not the case. A careful study of the 
late fifteenth and early sixteenth centuries shows that there was, 
at the time, a flowermg-forth of piety and mysticism. The question 
then arises, how could the above-mentioned abuses be met with 
in the midst of so much faith and charity? This strange contra- 
diction is to be accounted for, not by false beliefs, but by defective 
organization, and consequently defective discipline. 

The Church had become cut up into a number of independently 
functioning bodies; authority, jurisdiction, and possessions were 
divided among them, and inextricably entangled. This, on the 
one hand, made the enforcement of ecclesiastical canons and regula- 
tions extremely difficult, and provided numberless loopholes where- 
by to evade them. On the other hand, the struggle of many con- 
flicting interests gave rise to constant litigation. It heightened, at 
the expense of the regular hierarchy, the importance of those offi- 
cials who were empowered to settle differences and who were but 
too often tempted to take bribes or to exact undue payments. This 
was especially the case when favours were sought from the Roman 
Curia. There was an understanding between those who sued for 
dispensations or for exemptions from the performance of their 
clerical duties or the observance of disciplinary rules, and those 
who granted graces against payment for the benefit of the papal 
exchequer or to fill their own pockets. Money assumed as much 
importance in the Church as in any temporal state, and where 
money reigns supreme, sloth, lechery, pride inevitably follow. 

Thus the moral disorders in the Church really had their source 
m the overgrown development of an officialdom, the members 
of which had come to identify the Church with their own class. 
They could scarcely be expected to deal severely with a system 
to which they had become accustomed for generations past. 
Reformation had to hack pitilessly through a network of vested 
interests; it could only come from the very authority that had 
connived at the abuses, and must now, in correcting them, correct 
itself. The result would be a strong papacy, supported by a strong 



ANARCHY, THE DISEASE WITHIN THE CHURCH 3 

and independent hierarchy, which, becoming more conscious of 
its own dignity and prestige, would be less likely to let them be 
debased in the eyes of Christendom. 

Unfortunately centrifugal tendencies had been at work since the 
time of the Great Schism, and the Councils of Basle and Constance. 
These two councils had met as a response to the general clamour 
for reform; but in fact they ushered in the spirit of nationalism, 
which was to be the mam obstacle in the way of reform. The 
various European sovereigns cared little for the moral welfare of 
the Church; they preferred to consider her, in each country, as 
a department of the State, to take her dignitaries into their employ- 
ment, and use her preferments and benefices as a reward for their 
loyal subjects; thus countenancing abuses which they were later 
to denounce, once they had found it to their advantage to chastise 
the Church by seizing her property. Even when they were not 
actively hostile to the work of reformation from inside, they refused 
to give up their private quarrels and claims in order to ensure 
general peace; and the correction of abuses in a divided Europe 
remained well-nigh impossible. 

In fact, whatever may be said about the corruption of the Holy 
See, it was far from being altogether the fault of the popes if 
they had little time to attend to such matters as monastic discipline 
or the education of the lower clergy. Whether they liked it or not, 
their safety, their independence, nay, all but the very existence of 
the papacy, were involved in the wars between the European 
princes. They were threatened by the French or Imperial invasions 
of Italy, or by the Turkish advance. They had to struggle pain- 
fully to defend their temporal dominions, which alone could ensure 
their spiritual independence and authority. Had they not contrived 
to hold their own against national interests, there might never have 
been a Catholic Reformation at all. 

They might, it is true, have taken less account of political dangers 
and inconveniences, and attempted to carry Christian opinion along 
with them, by boldly asserting their will to perform the task of 
reformation under any circumstances. But they had become too 
much absorbed in worldly matters to realize the driving force of 
a purely spiritual appeal. The Renaissance had not merely corrupted 
the personal morality of the popes and their court; it had done 
even worse in lowering' their notion of their proper function. For 



4 THE CATHOLIC REFORMATION 

apostlcship, it had substituted "policy," the art of playing upon 
human passions and motives. Taking things as a whole, the condi- 
tion of the Curia was such as to make any Christian blush. Its 
bureaucracy was self-centred and self-seeking; it had come to 
halo its privileges, its greed, and its lusts with the sacred character 
of Christianity itself. Only a huge evangelical revival could breed 
enough of the spirit of sacrifice in the Church, to sweep away all 
selfishness; and in fact the Catholic Reformation was due first and 
foremost to a reawakening of the spirit of the Gospel. But it would 
still have failed to achieve success if it had merely been a reversion 
to the intellectual and sentimental outlook of the Middle Ages. It 
would not have been possible to fall back upon the Renaissance; it 
must perforce be made use of toward a Christian end. 

Such was the task of the movement known as "Christian human- 
ism/' which began about 1470 and was steadily gathering strength 
in the early sixteenth century. It served a double purpose: it saved 
the Church from paganism, while retaining, in the philosophy, 
literature, and art of the ancients, whatever might serve toward en- 
riching Christian life. Hence its peculiar quality, which was new and 
attractive, and which St. Thomas More represents better than any- 
one else. It was fully flourishing before Luther arose, and was likely 
to blossom into further flowers of wisdom and holiness, when the 
religious war forced it for a time into the background. Yet it was to 
come to the front again, with the Council of Trent and the Society 
of Jesus, and henceforth to be one of the chief elements of the Cath- 
olic Reformation. 

How Church conditions, especially in regard to administration 
and discipline, remained defective all through the fifteenth century, 
and were calling for improvement; how repeated efforts were made 
at the time to amend them, and were bidding fair to achieve their 
purpose when Protestantism appeared upon the stage, it will be the 
task of the following pages to show. 



According to early Protestant controversialists, such as Tyndalc, 
the abuses in the Church were the consequence of false doctrine: 
errors in faith led to errors in conduct. A close study of fifteenth- 
century conditions brings us, however, to a wholly different con- 



ANARCHY, THE DISEASE WITHIN THE CHURCH 5 

elusion. The abuses may be shown to have sprung, not from mis- 
taken notions on justification, the worship of the saints, Purgatory, 
etc., but from the state of administrative anarchy which had pre- 
vailed since the Great Schism. In the early centuries of its history,' 
the organization of the Church, aside from the divinely instituted 
headship of Peter and his successors, had been modelled on that of 
the Roman Empire: there was a regular hierarchy, gradually de- 
scending from the pope of Rome to the primates, metropolitans, 
bishops, and deacons. However, with the advent of feudalism this 
fine architectural order had been in many ways disturbed. As in civil 
society, many smaller, self-governing units had been founded, which 
did not come under the authority of the ordinary superiors. There 
was not much harm in this, so long as the Holy See was strong 
enough to assert its general overlordship. But when it had become 
enfeebled by the Great Schism and the conciliar movement, it was 
unable to put a stop to the scrimmage which took place between all 
sorts of ecclesiastical bodies. The authority of the hierarchy was 
openly flouted by clerical or lay patrons, cathedral chapters, religious 
orders and houses; this being made easier by the practice of exemp- 
tion, which national sovereigns naturally enough turned into a 
weapon against Church independence, but which the popes, in a 
misguided attempt to extend their jurisdiction, were themselves im- 
prudent enough to foster. 

Whatever efforts the bishops might make towards a general refor- 
mation of morals were set at naught from the fact that they were 
unable to compel the obedience of a very large section of their 
clergy. In the late fifteenth century, many parishes were really in 
the hands of clerical patrons, generally religious houses, which held 
the advowsons and drew the tithes, but often did so from a con- 
siderable distance. Such patrons were obviously unable to help in 
the enforcement of Church discipline, and were mainly intent on 
the maintenance of their rights. To quote some instances, while 
there were 469 parishes in the diocese of Paris, the bishop appointed 
215 incumbents only. In Paris itself, the episcopal appointments 
were only 6 out of 30; in Grenoble diocese, 221 out of 515; worst of 
all, in the diocese of Lyons, only 21 parishes out of 392 were in the 
hands of the archbishop. 

Nor was the disciplinary influence of the bishops merely counter- 
vailed by the power of the patrons. The various religious communi- 



6 THE CATHOLIC REFORMATION 

ties that had come into being inside each diocese also asserted their 
independence. Whether cathedral chapters, collegiate churches, 
brotherhoods of secular priests, monasteries, priories, or convents, 
they had their elected heads, their assemblies, their statutes, and 
their estates; they had vassals and tenants, and commanded con- 
siderable influence. Besides, most of the chapters, many collegiate 
churches, all the greater monasteries, and such religious orders as the 
Carthusians and mendicant friars, had been granted by the Holy 
See exemption from episcopal jurisdiction. They were at liberty to 
refuse the bishops admittance to their churches or convents; they 
had their own officers, their own courts of justice and prisons; 
within their boundaries, they exercised sovereign powers. Through 
the incumbents of their benefices, they held whole blocks of parishes 
under their sway. The authority of the bishops was threatened with 
total disappearance. 

The practice of exemption was steadily growing in the fifteenth 
century, and it is but natural that the episcopal body should have 
attempted to minimize its effects. Hence a permanent struggle, 
which led in many cases to scandalous disorders. At Vendome, the 
bishop, having succeeded in entering the collegiate church by stealth, 
was surrounded by the monks, insulted, and mishandled; the abbot 
tore from him his rochet, his square cap, and "part of the hair of his 
head"; then he was seized by the hands and feet, carried out and 
flung into the street, amidst the shouting of the mob. Similar hap- 
penings occurred, between 1470 and 1515, in a great many places in 
France. Cathedral chapters were equally unruly. They were com- 
posed of men of learning, and had great social influence, besides 
their actual share in the government of cathedral towns, and their 
powers over a numerous retinue. The late fifteenth century is a 
period of constant wrangling between chapters and bishops. Both 
parties go to law over the most trifling points precedence in a 
procession, or the whipping of a choir-boy. In 1517? the canons of 
Langres manifest their displeasure to the archbishop by regularly 
standing up and having the bells rung when they reach the follow- 
ing verse of Lauds: "Fiant dies ejus pauci et eptscopatum eyus reci- 
piat alter." Even the archdeacons try to extend their authority at the 
expense of the bishops. What wonder, then, that the latter should 
have turned in disgust from their religious duties, in which they 
found rebellion on every hand, to the field of political life, and will- 



ANARCHY, THE DISEASE WITHIN THE CHURCH 7 

ingly accepted the favour which princes offered to them in exchange 
for their able service? 

They did try, however, to countercheck the encroachments of 
exempt bodies; but the means they used for that purpose still further 
increased the disorder in the Church. Just as the popes peopled the 
Curia and the College of Cardinals with their own kin, because 
other appointments would have been unsafe, the bishops endeav- 
oured to open the cathedral chapters to their nephews and relatives 
and often succeeded in so doing; thus laying themselves open to the 
charge of nepotism. In regard to the religious houses, since they 
could not be held in curb, the simplest plan was to gam a footing 
inside them. Therefore, in the latter half of the fifteenth century, 
monastic dignities were more and more frequently conferred upon 
members of the hierarchy. The circumstances were wholly in favour 
of such a change, for both the popes and kings wished to have the 
greatest possible number of benefices in their gift and discounten- 
anced the old practice of appointing abbots, priors, and other officers 
by election. Thus in France the episcopate easily acquired control 
over the largest and richest abbeys, such as Saint-Denis, Fecamp, or 
La Chaise-Dieu, and even over most of the houses of the Cistercian 
Order. It is obvious that the prelates, who thus held abbacies in com- 
mendam, could not fulfil the duties of their charge. The monas- 
teries were ruled by deputies, from whom the flaming enthusiasm 
of the founders or reformers of religious orders could certainly not 
be expected. Thus the attempt of the hierarchy to correct an obvious 
disorder led to a state of things which was even worse. 

But, it will be asked, was the increase of monastic influence in 
the Church of the fifteenth century necessarily an evil? About the 
answer there can be little doubt. Indeed, in the early Middle Ages, 
the religious orders had spread culture and true religion every- 
where, and the work they had then done towards civilizing Europe 
can scarcely be over-estimated. But now conditions had changed, 
and the old spirit of heroic enterprise had been as a rule superseded 
by remissness and perfunctoriness. To such decay there were, of 
course, exceptions, which will be mentioned in due course. In 
Northern Europe especially, in the Low Countries, Germany, and 
England, the monastic spirit had not exhausted its powers of recu- 
peration and creation. Yet, it cannot be doubted that, as a whole, 
conditions in most monasteries left much to be desired. Here again, 



8 THE CATHOLIC REFORMATION 

we are faced with a process of admiijistrative disorganization which, 
far more than any "superstitions," was at the root of moral evils. 
Discipline could only be enforced by a central authority, which in 
the case of religious orders was that of the general chapter, held at 
regular intervals, and strong enough to compel obedience. Now m 
the fifteenth century, the general tendency is all toward disintegra- 
tion. The various houses of each order tended to loosen the bonds 
which united them to the others, and to assert their independence. 

This was, of course, easily achieved in the case of the so-called 
"autocephalous" monasteries, which had been the earliest-founded, 
and mostly belonged to the Benedictine Order. The drawbacks at- 
tending their isolation had become apparent in the fourteenth cen- 
tury, and Pope Benedict XII, through his bull Sum mi Magistri, had 
attempted to gather those of France into six provinces. The system, 
however, soon broke down, and many large monasteries, living for 
and by themselves, came to assume the position of great landowners 
rather than that of religious institutions. But the same individualism 
was equally at work in those monastic orders which up till then had 
constituted real federations, with the general abbot as their head and 
the general chapter as their parliament. In the late fifteenth century, 
the general chapters of Cluny, Citeaux, Premontre were vainly striv- 
ing to assert their authority. Each house claimed a right to dispose 
of its own property and to select its own members. If visitors are 
sent, the prior of St. Euverte writes, "they are received at great cost 
and richly entertained. Neighbours and great personages are invited 
to come and feast with them, and gold is freely spent to shut their 
mouths." The same individualistic spirit led the officers in each 
house to make themselves independent, to rebel against the old com- 
munal spirit of monasticism, and secure for themselves private in- 
comes out of the common property. Thus did monastic offices be- 
come real benefices, which often fell into the hands of non-resident 
seculars. Here again, administrative anarchy led to a general relaxa- 
tion of discipline, with the worst possible consequences in morals. 

We have shown that the main obstacle to reformation in the 
Church was the complicated entanglement of vested interests. Now, 
those interests were reducible to terms of money: hence the im- 
portance of the financial aspect of the ecclesiastical problems of the 
time. The clergy needed resources to carry on the various branches 
of their work, and owing to the disorganized state of the Church, 



ANARCHY, THE DISEASE WITHIN THE CHURCH 9 

those resources were not forthcoming, or were diverted into other 
channels. In the case of bishops, these ought to have included the 
ordinary dues levied on benefices, and the chancery and law fees. 
But all the exempt bodies, with their dependencies, refused to pay 
the former; while the latter brought in far less than they ought to 
have done, from the fact that so many people withdrew themselves 
from episcopal jurisdiction. In 1482, the General Chapter of Cluny 
forbade all the houses of the Order to pay to the bishops the usual 
duty on their accession to their sees, or the visitation fees. About the 
same period, many parish priests also claimed exemption from taxes, 
as for instance in the Rheims and Chartres dioceses. As a conse- 
quence, the exchequer of many sees was in a sad plight. In 1461, the 
revenue of the archbishopric of Rouen had fallen to the paltry sum 
of 2000 French livres. 

It was no easy task to extend or increase the taxes on benefices; 
but other duties imposed upon the laity might be made to bring in 
more, and the bishops turned their efforts that way, from 1450 on- 
wards. A steady effort was made to extract more from various mar- 
riage fees and the proving of wills. At Paris, in 1505, parish priests 
would refuse to bury the deceased whose wills had not been proved. 
Ecclesiastical censures were used freely against those who refused 
to pay; and in France the evidence of royal officers even though it 
should be taken at a discount throws light upon a stupendous 
state of affairs. In 1500, in the Clermont diocese, if we are to believe 
a procurator royal, there were some thirty or forty thousand excom- 
municated persons. Authentic records show a steady increase at Sens 
from 1468 to 1505. The dignity of the Church could be no gainer by 
such a cheapening of her censures; and while in the long run this 
increased pressure on the part of the clergy did little towards improv- 
ing their financial position, it paved the way for the Protestant 
rebellion. In England popular feeling against Church taxation was 
running high towards 1520; and Henry VIII made use of the lever- 
age thus offered him in his struggle against the Holy See. 

The parish clergy was even worse off. Indeed, the churchwardens 
had quite considerable resources at their disposal, in the shape both 
of taxes, bequests, and foundations; but these funds were reserved 
for the building, repairing, and furnishing of the churches. The 
priest himself had no claim upon them, and might in most cases be 
described in Chaucer's words as "a povre persoun of a toun." Here 



io THE CATHOLIC REFORMATION 

again, the root of the evil lay in the faulty organization of the 
Church. Lay patronage had to some extent been reduced, but cler- 
ical patronage was fast gaining ground. The monasteries or chap- 
ters to which benefices were appropriated were entitled to draw the 
tithes, on condition that they should provide a decent income for the 
incumbent; but in fact they generally proved to be close-fisted, and 
failed to fulfil their obligations at all adequately. There was a con- 
stant wrangling over the tithes between the patrons and the rural 
clergy. The parishes were too numerous and too small, and in many 
cases the priests were literally starving. We hear of some in Nor- 
mandy living on an income of less than one "sou" a day, only half 
the pay of an artisan. What wonder, m the circumstances, that the 
lower clergy should have made shift as best they could to grind a 
livelihood out of their parishes? Some took up a trade; most raised 
the duties for burials and churchmgs, begged for Masses, quarrelled 
over their revenues with monks or friars, and charged fees for the 
sacraments. 

We have now reached the point where financial maladministra- 
tion led to religious abuses properly speaking. The doctrinal con- 
tentions of the Reformers were, to a very large extent, the transla- 
tion into theological language of a protest against undue payments 
exacted from the laity; these being in their turn the consequence of 
faulty administration. This applied not merely to Church taxation 
proper, but also to voluntary contributions. Public chanty had done 
beautiful work in building churches, cathedrals and hospitals, roads 
and bridges, under ecclesiastical supervision. But towards the yeai 
1500, amidst the general confusion which we have described, there 
was a scramble for alms in which the most objectionable means 
were used. "Pardoners" often went far beyond the letter of the 
bulls which authorized them, or even hawked indulgences about 
without any permission at all. The piety and credulity of the people 
was taken advantage of by a number of swindlers, who carried about 
false relics or spurious indulgences. In 1506, the chapter of Soissons 
cast into prison a cleric who had produced forged bulls, allowing 
him to beg alms for the ransoming of prisoners; and there are many 
similar instances. Worse still, the sale of indulgences was pushed by 
means of unorthodox doctrine, as for instance that "whoever paid 
into the almsbox for the Crusade a tester for a soul in Purgatory, 
would free that soul from Purgatory incontinently." 



ANARCHY, THE DISEASE WITHIN THE CHURCH n 

This abuse of Christian truth was bad enough in itself, but it was 
not the only moral evil that followed upon the disorganized state 
of the Church. We have shown how tempting it was for the mem- 
bers of the hierarchy to neglect dioceses in which they met with 
resistance on every hand, and to migrate to the courts of princes, 
where at any rate their abilities would meet with recognition. Thus 
in every country of Christian Europe the episcopate became an aris- 
tocracy of courtiers. Too much has been made of the serious moral 
lapses of some of them; but the least that can be said of the others 
is that they led a brilliant and pleasurable life, far removed from 
the obligations of their charge. They entrusted the care of their 
dioceses to deputies and accompanied the sovereign in his wander- 
ings from castle to castle, or even in his campaigns. During the 
Italian wars, three cardinals, two archbishops, six bishops, and an 
abbot were m the following of Louis XII of France when he en- 
tered the city of Milan in 1507. Some of these took part, with much 
gusto, in the actual fighting. At a court festival, about the same 
time, two cardinals danced before the king. 

The prelates soon became accustomed to an easy and luxurious 
life. Cardinal d'Amboise erected a real palace at Gaillon, for the 
building and furnishing of which he spent no less than 50,000 
French livres; the house was decorated with tapestries and painted 
windows, carpets, pictures, and statues; there were found in it col- 
lections of jewellery, porcelain, medals, rare manuscripts, and 
printed books. Wolsey's residence at Hampton Court immediately 
suggests itself as an English parallel. Much money was of course 
needed for the life which was to be led in such surroundings. Each 
bishop endeavoured to obtain a growing number of benefices, and 
the crying scandal of pluralities becartie quite general. ''The higher 
clergy," the German Johann Butzbach writes, "are much to blame 
for the neglect of souls. They send to the parishes unworthy pastors, 
while they themselves draw the tithes. Many seek to heap up for 
themselves as many benefices as possible, without fulfilling the duties 
incumbent upon them, and squander the ecclesiastical revenues in 
luxury and servants, pages, horses and dogs. Each one tries to vie 
with the other in pomp and pride." That the influence of temporal 
sovereigns, in attaching to themselves those whose services were due 
to the Church, was largely responsible for this state of things, can- 
not for a moment be doubted. 



12 THE CATHOLIC REFORMATION 

The lower clergy had reasons of their own for disliking residence 
in impoverished parishes, where it was impossible for a clever man 
to "get along" or to proceed with his studies. Towards the end of 
the fifteenth century, when the archdeacon of Paris was engaged 
upon a visitation, he found that 36 incumbents out of 83 were non- 
resident, while 12 had left their cures without permission. Those 
who supplied their places were the poorest and least qualified part 
of the ecclesiastical body. Indeed, no systematic provision at all was 
made for the religious upbringing and training of the parochial 
clergy as a whole. Some few of them only, who belonged to the 
gentry or to well-to-do burgher families, were lucky enough to 
attend a university or a chapter-school. The others had to be con- 
tent with the teaching given at a village-school, or the lessons of the 
rector of the parish; they gathered a few scraps of Latin, learnt 
enough theology and liturgy to be able to say Mass, administer the 
sacraments, bury the dead, and keep the church accounts. They took 
orders without ever leaving their native place. No effort was made 
to develop the priestly spirit in their souls. They considered them- 
selves as very much on the same level as their parishioners; and 
this lack of clerical dignity, coupled with their poverty, caused them 
to lead the same life, and indulge in the same pleasures, as the 
common rabble. They might often be seen gambling in alehouses. 
We hear of a parson, in the diocese of Rouen, who was leading a 
dance on the public square, with a crown of leaves and flowers on 
his head. There is truth indeed in Rabelais' satire of the lower 
c^rgy. 

/ In the case of the regulars also, financial and moral decay went 
hand in hand, the main cause being, here again, an administrative 
abuse. A growing number of religious houses were held in com- 
mendam by Church dignitaries or members of the aristocracy who 
considered them merely as sources of income, never visited them at 
all, refused to pay for the necesssary repairs, and reduced them to 
sore financial straits. In 1486, the monks of Saint-Denis lodged a 
complaint against their commendatory abbot. The roofs of the 
church, cloisters, and dorters, they said, let in the rain; most barns 
and manors were falling to ruin; the scholars of the college which 
the abbey kept in Paris had been turned out; they themselves were 
scarcely able to obtain the necessaries of life; the sums allotted for 
their clothing and wine had been pared down; and their bread was 



ANARCHY, THE DISEASE WITHIN THE CHURCH 13 

so bad that they could not eat it; all this because the abbot had built 
extensive lodgings for his own convenience, and granted the bene- 
fices "to strangers who let everything melt away." Such a state of 
things seems to have been quite general. Many monasteries were 
heavily in debt, such as Saint Amand Abbey in Flanders, which in 
1507, had lost 190,000 livres. Financial distress, the spirit of revolt, 
and relaxed discipline went of course hand in hand. To this must 
be added that the feudal aristocracy had gradually found their way 
into the religious houses as well as into the hierarchy. Monastic 
dignities and offices were reserved for the younger sons of noble 
families. The ideal of equality and common property had therefore 
disappeared. At Paris, in 1481, during the public festivities of the 
Epiphany, a number of monks joined with the students, dressed up 
as fools, armed themselves, and ranged about the city, abusing and 
attacking the passers-by. Women's cloisters were in the same pitiable 
condition. At le Vergier, it was found in the course of a visitation 
that the abbey was not closed, that the nuns had not gone to con- 
fession for six months past, and that the abbess had not received 

Communion for fifteen months past. 

* # * 

Dioceses in which most parishes were in the hands, not of the 
bishops, but of distant and neglectful patrons; in which exempt 
bodies of all kinds asserted their independence and spent their time 
in private quarrels; in which the higher clergy were elegant cour- 
tiers, while the lower clergy scarcely managed to live from hand to 
mouth; financial conditions which resulted in increased taxation for 
the laity, and the peddling of holy things by ecclesiastical mounte- 
banks; monasteries which refused to submit to the heads of their 
orders, and in which the offices were held either by non-resident 
seculars or by disdainful and profligate noblemen, while the monks 
and nuns were left uncared for, both in regard to their material and 
spiritual needs; such is the state of affairs that we are faced with on 
the eve of the Reformation. The surprising thing, in such circum- 
stances, is not that the level of Christian morality should have been 
low, but that it should still have been so high. In any case, a general 
administrative readjustment was needed; but no Church assembly, 
however holy and well-meaning, could effect it by its own means. 
Only a powerful central authority would be able to override all the 
vested interests which were unwilling to let themselves be dislodged. 



14 THE CATHOLIC REFORMATION 

Now, it was the tragedy of the late fifteenth and early sixteenth 
centuries that the papacy was disabled, almost until it was too late, 
from undertaking the necessary work of reconstruction. Of course 
the Holy See would have enjoyed greater authority and heightened 
respect if its moral decay had not made it, for some time at least, 
unworthy of its task; and yet, the very evils and abuses which are 
rQost frequently denounced were largely brought about by external 
causes, over which the popes had no command. The nationalism 
which had been prominent at the Council of Constance (1414-1417) 
asserted itself anew, as the century wore on, in a less democratic 
shape. The power of national sovereigns was fast becoming abso- 
lute, and was attempting to embrace the ecclesiastical province as 
well. The attention of rulers was focused upon "policy," upon what 
was purely human and temporal m the government of their states, 
and they no longer even suspected the necessity of an independent 
spiritual body. The administration of the Church must be solely in 
their hands; and the pope must be content with the part of a chap- 
lain, who might be allowed to preach, so long as he did not make 
himself offensive, but who might not on any account be granted 
actual powers of government. 

Long before such theories were expounded by Bishop Stephen 
Gardiner as a justification of the Anglican schism, they had been 
put forward and acted upon by most sovereigns in Europe, even in 
countries which were afterwards to be considered as the staunchest 
supporters of the papacy. In 1498, Spam was threatening to break 
off its allegiance to the Holy See, and Pope Alexander VI had to 
placate the Spanish sovereigns by granting them supreme authority 
over religious affairs within the whole extent of their dominions. 
Later, in 1508, the Spanish government claimed and obtained full 
rights of patronage over all churches in the West Indies. France 
very nearly started a schism of her own at the time of the Council 
of Pisa, convened by Louis XII (1511-1512). Venice went almost 
to the same lengths. Not merely did the Signory, m the first decade 
of the sixteenth century, arraign clerks before its tribunals the 
question of clerical immunities being a debatable one but it went 
the length of appointing to benefices and even to bishoprics, not 
even allowing the pope to withhold confirmation of these acts. 

Nor was this struggle to maintain the spiritual independence of 
the Church the only difficulty that the Holy See had to contend 



ANARCHY, THE DISEASE WITHIN THE CHURCH 15 

with. Its liberty and the very life of the popes were constantly 
threatened, in the late fifteenth century, and indeed within the very 
walls of Rome, by feuds between powerful families, such as the 
Orsinis and the Colonnas, who wished to have the pope in their 
dependence. Maintenance of order in the papal dominions, or in the 
Eternal City itself, was a formidable problem. The nobility of central 
Italy was unruly and turbulent. The papacy was no better protected 
against the undertakings of mightier neighbours. France, Spam, the 
Empire, Venice, all wanted to extend their influence in the Penin- 
sula, nibbled at the patrimony, took cardinals or Roman noblemen 
m their pay, and raised rebellions against the Holy See when their 
wishes were not complied with. Italy was overrun with foreign 
armies. In the circumstances, since the papacy had no sufficient mili- 
tary force at its disposal, the only possible policy was to play of? the 
powers against each other, and to such a policy was Julius II re- 
duced throughout the length of his pontificate (1503-1513). 

Here again, the disorders of the times were reflected in a finan- 
cial crisis. Huge sums were needed for the administration of the 
universal Church, and for its defence against the Turkish invasion. 
Now the older sources of income had well-nigh dried up. Extensive 
parts of the patrimony had been usurped by the local nobility; feudal 
dues, rents, and tributes were not forthcoming, or lost in value 
through being farmed out. At the end of the fifteenth century, the 
total produce of customs, salt taxes, and feudal dues amounted to 
the wholly inadequate sum of 125,000 ducats. There was buf one way 
out of the difficulty, the same one which both parish priests and 
bishops had taken, and one which was not likely to make the 
Church popular: namely, to raise the fees which were due to the 
Holy See for its spiritual services. Apart from tenths, first fruits, and 
various duties to be paid by the holders of benefices, the fees for 
dispensations of different kinds were raised to twice their figure 
from 1471 to 1515. 

Unfortunately, this oppressive system of taxation, while breeding 
much discontent, brought in far less than it ought to have done. 
Sovereigns insisted on retaining their share of all subsidies granted 
by their clergy to the papacy; the taxpayers took advantage of the 
fact that as a rule no compulsion was available against them, while 
tax-collectors, secretaries, and notaries of all descriptions retained 
for their own use a large part of the sums paid in to them. Two- 



16 THE CATHOLIC REFORMATION 

thirds at least of the assessed moneys never reached the Curia at all. 
The budget of the Apostolic Chamber, which was the centre of 
papal administration, had fallen, in the space of sixty years preced- 
ing the Reformation, from 300,000 to 150,000 ducats. On the eve of 
the Reformation, the sum total of all papal revenues amounted only 
to a maximum of 450,000 ducats, while in such a small kingdom as 
Naples, the poll-tax alone brought in 600,000. In 1484, Pope Sixtus 
IV had to pawn his tiara for 100,000 ducats. From 1471 to 1520 jthe 
Holy See was constantly in debt. In fact, it had become impossible 
to enforce a system of papal taxation throughout Europe, at a time 
when the ideal of an united Christendom was being battered down 
by the spirit of nationalism. 

The dangers which threatened the independence of the papacy on 
the one hand, and the financial straits to which it was reduced on 
the other, account for many of the "abuses" which had creptiotq the 
Curia. The position of the popes in the early sixteenth century can- 
not be compared to what it is nowadays. European public opinion 
might be devotedly loyal; but distance made it difficult for it to 
count in Italy, while the papacy was really dependent on the play 
and counterplay of intrigue and strife between Roman or Florentine 
factions. 

It was impossible for the popes not to engage in that intricate 
game of local politics; and first of all, they were compelled to recruit 
a body of faithful adherents, who were not likely to turn traitors. 
Now, in a country where the ties of blood count for more than any 
other bond, none were better fitted than the pontiffs own kinsmen 
to form that bodyguard. Hence arose what has been so often 
branded as "nepotism" hence, too, followed even the appointment 
of juvenile cardinals, whom it was safe to attach to the papal for- 
tunes as early as possible, and who did not always turn out to be 
scapegraces. 

There is less to be said in defence of the sale of ecclesiastical 
offices, or even cardinals' hats, though this was but one of the make- 
shifts used by Alexander VI to fill in his treasury. At the consistory 
of May 31, 1503, nine cardinals were appointed, "most of them men 
of slender reputation." Some of them had paid up to 20,000 ducats 
and more, the total sum received amounting to 130,000 ducats. Such 
simony, however, still failed to fulfil its purpose. Sixtus IV, Alex- 



ANARCHY, THE DISEASE WITHIN THE CHURCH 17 

ancler VI, Julius II, and even Leo X, were compelled to have re- 
course to bankers. In 1513, the debt of Leo X to some of these rose to 
125,000 ducats. Since the bankers such as the Medici at Florence, 
the Donas at Genoa, the Fuggers at Augsburg naturally enough 
wanted pledges, permission was given to their local branches to collect 
the papal taxes directly. They even acted as intermediate agents be- 
tween suitors for papal exemptions, dispensations, or benefices, and 
the Holy See. Thus there arose a huckstering in properly religious 
favours, which could but be detrimental to the good name of the 
Church. 

The situation was really the same in regard to the head of the 
Church as to her limbs. The times were changing. A system of ad- 
ministration, which had been possible and satisfactory as long as 
Europe was spiritually united under the authority of the Holy See, 
ceased to work altogether, once the disruptive spirit of lay statecraft 
gained the upper hand. The worst of it was that the papacy itself, 
being compelled to act less as an universal spiritual power than as a 
second-rate Italian principality, became infected by the new spirit, 
that of the pagan Renaissance, and tended to model itself on tem- 
poral courts. Thus moral evils arose, which cannot on any account 
be excused or justified. In fact, however, the most scandalous period 
was not of very long duration, since it coincided with the pontificate 
of Alexander VI, which lasted from 1492 to 1503. But the condition 
of the papal court at the time might well give rise to righteous indig- 
nation. The pope showered favours upon his children, especially on 
Caesar Borgia; and the worst instance of his paternal generosity is 
the lavish way in which he granted to his son, who needed much 
money for his campaigns towards the enlargement of his dominions, 
much of the sums brought in by the jubilee of 1500. Beside such a 
misuse of the pope's power and such a betrayal of the trust shown 
to him by the pilgrims, common immorality will fall almost flat. 
Yet one imagines the impression produced on pious foreigners by 
such events as the solemn festivities for the second wedding of Alex- 
ander VI's daughter, Lucrece Borgia, one of the shows consisting in 
licentious dances, at which the pope himself was a spectator. 

The moral level of the Roman court was much higher during the 
following pontificate, that of Julius II; nepotism disappeared, and 
the revenues of the Holy See were no longer squandered. But ad- 



1 8 THE CATHOLIC REFORMATION 

mimstrative and financial malpractices were not discontinued. The 
same old means were used to fill the papal treasury: the sale of 
offices, of benefices, of indulgences. Ecclesiastical censures were 
being constantly used for temporal purposes such as the recovery of 
Bologna from the Venetians. 

In short, the same thing had happened to the Church which 
happens to most human societies. Without any deliberate evil inten- 
tions on the part of anyone, abuses creep in, which are gradually 
sanctioned by conservative habits and become almost respectable 
through age. They no longer give rise to wonderment or protest, 
and things are allowed to glide down the slope of perdition, the 
more comfortably, as so many vested interests would suffer if a root- 
and-branch reformation were undertaken. Only a man of uncom- 
mon sanctity, enthusiasm, and clearsightedness is able to cope with 
such a state of things; and in fact it did take a good many such men 
to plan a new organization for the Church, and keep her abreast of 
the times. They could hardly have succeeded, however, had Chris- 
tendom been really corrupt at heart; but it was not. The material 
was lying ready for the hand of the builders: Christian Europe was 
rich in faith, chanty, and devotion. 



BIBLIOGRAPHY 

This chapter is very largely based on the beautiful work of P. Imbart 
de la Tour, Les ongmes de la Reform?, torn. II (Pans, 1909), L'Eglise 
catholique, la cnse ct la Renaissance. The writer is mainly concerned 
with France, but the situation which he describes was in most respects 
the same m other European countries. The book is one of remarkable 
insight, intelligence, and clearness, -md should be consulted in every case 
The whole question of the moral condition of the clergy in France about 
the turn of the century is dealt with at length in the bulky and scholarly 
work of Auguste Renaudet, Prereforme et humamsme a Pans pendant 
les premieres guerres d'ltalie (1494-1517}, (Paris, 1916), Part I, the 
conclusions of which may to some extent be questioned, but which pro- 
vides a mass of material. For England, see Cardinal Francis Aidan 
Gasquet, The Eve of the Reformation (London, 1900), which casts a 
new light on a much-controverted question. Some particulars referring 
to Germany have been borrowed from Johannes Janssen's standard work, 
Geschichte des deutschen Voltes seit dem Ausgang des Mittelalters 
(Freiburg-im-Breisgau, 1887), translated into English as: History of the 
German People at the Close of the Middle-Ages, Herder, 16 vols., in 
which, however, comparatively little is said regarding abuses. On the 



ANARCHY, THE DISEASE WITHIN THE CHURCH 19 

Councils of Basle and Constance and the general condition of Christen- 
dom in the fifteenth century, see the excellent first volume of Ludwig 
von Pastor, Gcschichte der Pdpste seit dem Ausgang des Mittelalters 
(Freiburg-im-Breisgau, 1901), or Vols. I and II of the English transla- 
tion by Frederick Ignatius Antrobus, of the London Oratory, The His- 
tory of the Popes from the Close of the Middle-Ages (London, 1891). 



CHAPTER II 



Early Reactions Against Disease in the Church 



HOWEVER deplorable the abuses which we have described, 
their influence upon the faithful was far less than 
might at first be expected. They persevered in the straight 
path despite faulty institutions. This is clearly shown by a 
careful study of the religious literature, the piety and mysticism, the 
parish life, and the very Church a'chitecture and decorative art o 
the period. The impression arrived at is not that of spiritual im- 
poverishment, but on the contrary, almost that of a Renaissance. 
Indeed we may safely draw conclusions from the type of books 
which were turned out by the first printers, who like those of to-day 
had an eye upon vSales. Out of 54 works published in England by 
Wynkyn de Worde between 1490 and 1500, 30 have a religious 
theme. While the English public seems to have had a preference 
for the lives of saints, numerous editions of the Bible appeared in 
Germany, France, and Italy, where the Fwrettt of St. Francis were 
also especially popular. Mystical and ascetical treatises were many, 
the Imitation being, of course, foremost among them; but there was 
a blossoming forth of countless other works of the same description: 
Pilgrimages and Hills and Ladders of Perfection, Gardens and 
Guides and Consolations of the soul. 

This flowering of fifteenth-century devotion was to have a con- 
siderable influence upon the mystical writers of the Catholic Refor- 
mation, especially St. Ignatius Loyola. It is manifested not merely 
in printed volumes, but also in the private correspondence, pious 
effusions, diaries, commonplace books, and the wills of contemporar- 
ies. A magistrate of Florence, Feo Belcan, who died m 1484, wrote, 
among other works, a letter for his daughter's edification. In it he 
says: 



EARLY REACTIONS AGAINST THE DISEASE 21 

"Lowliness is a priceless treasure and a gift of God. It is an abyss 
of self-humiliation, against which the powers of darkness may not 
prevail, a tower of strength raised in the face of the foe. Lowliness 
is a divine protection and guard, a veil before our mind's eye, which 
screens from our sight our own merits and our own virtues; it is the 
perfection of faith and purity. Penance lifts up the soul, suffering 
brings her to the gates of Heaven, lowliness throws them open. 
Amongst the means of reaching lowliness, the Holy Fathers name 
bodily pains, and St. John Scholasticus says that it is reached through 
obedience, simplicity of heart and whatever checks pride. There are 
also other ways which lead to it: as for instance, poverty, pilgrim- 
ages, the concealing of one's own knowledge, simplicity in speech, 
begging for alms, manual labour, taking no account of one's high 
rank, restraint in talk, mistrust of men, trust in the Saviour alone. 
Meditation on death, Judgment day, and the passion of Jesus-Christ 
also gives birth to lowliness. It breeds in the soul mildness, gentle- 
ness, devotion, patience, peace, cheerfulness, obedience, sym- 
pathy, and chiefly a zeal free from sadness and an unwearying 
vigilance. . . ." 

We have quoted this passage in full because it brings home to us 
the general tone of a period in which the evangelical spirit held its 
own against the pagan Renaissance. The same quality of sweetness 
and peace is found in England about the same time. A Yorkshire 
will of 1507 begins with the following words: 

"In the name of the most blessed and holy Trinity, the Father, 
the Son, and the Holy Ghost, one God almighty and everlasting, of 
whom is all, by whom is all, and in whom is all; I Walter Cawood, 
inwardly remembering that all men living have here no city abid- 
ing, but be as pilgrims passing toward the promised city of Heaven 
by this temporal and wretched life, not sure of the hour nor time 
when the Lord of the house shall come, late at midnight, or early; 
lest that death, as a thief, unawares might throw adown this house 
of my earthly living, that at the coming of the great Spouse, when 
His pleasure shall be to call me, I be not found sleeping, willing 
therefore to dispose me through the gracious assistance of Almighty 
God in all things to His pleasure. ... I recommend and bequeathe 
my sinful soul to Almighty God my maker and redeemer, to His 
blessed mother and virgin Saint Mary, my whole trust and succour 
after God, and to the holy company of Heaven. . . ." 



22 THE CATHOLIC REFORMATION 

As far as can be ascertained, all the wills of that time are couched 
in the same style, and begin with the same pious exhortations, fol- 
lowed by considerable bequests for the churches and the worship 
conducted within them, for prayers and Masses, and for good works 
of all kinds. Nor were the well-to-do alone generous. One is touched, 
even now, by the will of the poor woman of Northallerton, who left 
"a towel to the high altar and a brass-pot to the church." 

There is indeed something especially simple and graceful about 
the period, which is reflected in its religious architecture. The 
effusiveness of personal piety gracefully combined with the growing 
prosperity of the times to produce a new type of art, naive and skil- 
ful at the same time, rich and yet restrained, tender and fanciful. 
Everywhere churches were being built or repaired; hundreds of 
these are still extant in central and southern Germany, while even 
in half-civilized northern Germany, some forty were built on the 
"eve of the Reformation." The marvellous churches and chapels of 
Brittany mostly date back to the same period, to which also belongs 
such a finished masterpiece as Notre-Dame de I'Epme in Cham- 
pagne. England, as usual more solemn and stately, evolved the per- 
pendicular style, which is exemplified in the wonderful chapel of 
King's College at Cambridge, and Henry VIFs chapel in West- 
minster Abbey. Nowhere is the spirit of the early sixteenth century 
better revealed than in its painted glass as found for instance in the 
cathedral at Moulms or in Notre-Dame church at Chalons-sur- 
Marne. The happy, elegant blending of late Gothic and Classical 
motifs in the frames and setting; the range, richness, depth, and 
delicacy of the colouring; the airy lighting of the backgrounds; 
the intense devoutness of the feeling, especially m the kneeling 
portraits of the donors all these combine to produce a mixed im- 
pression of beauty, serenity, and peace; of artistic refinement and 
spiritual perfection, greater even than those suggested by the half- 
Eastern gorgeousness of the thirteenth century. 

The artistic beauty of the churches had its counterpart in the spir- 
itual beauty of the home, which remained a safe shelter for reli- 
gious truth and piety. Many treatises and books of devotion provided 
rules for the everyday life of families and for the education of 
children. In the Austrian Road to Heaven the head of the family is 
exhorted to attend the sermon and recall it after dinner with his 
home-folk. 



EARLY REACTIONS AGAINST THE DISEASE 23 

"Then he sits at home with his good wife and with his children 
and his servantfolk, and asks them what they remember of the 
sermon, and tells them what he himself remembers. He questions 
them also, whether they know and understand the ten command- 
ments, the seven deadly sins, the Our Father and the Creed, and 
teaches them. Finally he has a little drink brought in for them, and 
makes them sing a charming little hymn referring to God, to Our 
Lady or to the dear Saints, and rejoices in God with all his 
home-folk." 

This charming and homely picture of an Austrian household is 
not the only one of its kind. Italian families were being advised, 
about the same time, though in a somewhat soberer key, by St. 
Antonine, in words like the following: "When you go visiting 
abroad, even to see relatives, speak as little as possible, and only if 
you are compelled to do so. ... Do not fail to watch over your 
children, so that they may live in the fear of God, and keep aloof 
from evil society. Guard yourself from evil not merely in your 
actions, but in your thoughts as well." 

The same spiritual ideal inspired the corporate life of tradesmen 
and craftsmen to an extent which might surprise many Christians 
nowadays. The guilds in which they assembled were more than 
trade unions coupled with mutual insurance companies: they had 
a higher purpose, attending to the religious as well as to the tem- 
poral interests of their members. For those of their members who 
died, they had Masses sung m their own chantries. They had prayer 
meetings before the statues of the Virgin or saints, such as that 
gathering in the streets of Amiens which surprised Bucer so much 
as late as 1549. They went on pilgrimages. Those of Our Lady of 
Walsingham in England, of Loretto and Assisi in Italy, were in fact 
still extremely popular in the early sixteenth century. Moreover, the 
statutes of Italian guilds often made it compulsory for their mem- 
bers to go to confession two or three times a year, to refrain from 
swearing, to hear Mass on Sundays and feast days, to keep a devout 
attitude in the house of God, and to remain in it until the very end 
of the divine office. 

Though the administrative confusion which prevailed in the 
Church made it harder for the clergy to perform their duties, one 
should not believe that the churches were silent and the pulpits 
empty. Once again we may turn to the early productions of the 



24 THE CATHOLIC REFORMATION 

printing press. In England, among the first books published by 
Caxton, we find a number of collections of sermons; the old Quat- 
tuor Sermones of 1281 ran through no fewer than seven English 
editions between 1493 and 1499. In Germany, the sermons of the 
Dominican, Johann Herolt, had been printed forty-one times before 
1500, which implies a sale of forty thousand copies. One should also 
remember that, besides direct preaching, many other means were 
used to teach the lay folk. The list of early printed books includes 
catechisms, such as that of the German friar, Dedench Colde, which 
dates back to 1470. 

At no period of Church history had the biblia idiotarum, the 
"books of the unlettered" painted windows, frescoes, tapestries, 
and more frequently still stone-carvings assumed such an impor- 
tance in church decoration. The vanity of this world and the 
supreme importance of the hereafter is especially insisted on, as in 
the frequent theme of the "dance of death," of which the wonderful 
wall-painting in the abbey of La Chaise-Dieu in Auvergne provides 
such a haunting instance. At the same time religious drama was 
reaching a high degree of perfection, and remained true to its 
original purpose. The mystery plays flourished in the late fifteenth 
and early sixteenth centuries. The huge composition known as the 
Old Testament was published m France about 1500, while the still 
vaster Acts of the Apostles of Arnould and Simon Greban were 
printed in 1538. The parliament of Paris stopped the performance of 
mystery plays only in 1548, while in Italy, as late as 1517, a guild of 
religious players was founded by the Dominicans at Pistoja, and 
performed the life of the Virgin Mary, to the great edification of the 
townspeople. 

In a Europe which was imbued so deeply with the spirit of the 
Gospel, it would be surprising indeed if no reforming efforts were 
to have been registered prior to the advent of Lutheramsm. In fact, 
such efforts were constantly being made between 1450 and 1520, 
and often with a measure of success. They were a prefiguration of 
the Trentme plan, but they were frustrated by political circum- 
stances, and most of all by the temporal and spiritual weakness of 
the Holy See. Among the huge body of the regular clergy, the 
monastic ideal was far from having spent all its strength. The 
Carthusians were famous for the holiness of their lives both m Eng- 
land and in Germany, where the Charterhouse at Cologne was con- 



EARLY REACTIONS AGAINST THE DISEASE 25 

sidered as "offering to all religious orders a pattern of perfect 
ascetical discipline." The attraction of their spiritual life was felt at 
the English court; and it will be remembered that St. Thomas More 
spent "four years among them, dwelling near the Charterhouse, 
frequenting daily their spiritual exercises . . ." and that "for the 
religious state he had an ardent desire, and thought for a time of 
becoming a Franciscan." 

In Italy, the movement which was to bring about the birth of 
new orders, amidst the very turmoil of the battle against Luther, 
had begun twenty years at least before the Reformation. At Vicenza 
in 1494, at Genoa in 1497, brotherhoods had been founded, which 
were a link between the Franciscan and the Jesuit schemes of reli- 
gious life. It is significant that the "Oratory of Divine Love" of 
Gaetano da Thiene, which was to develop into the Theatme Order, 
and exert such an influence upon the Catholic Reformation, was 
founded just one year before Luther posted up his theses on the 
gates of Wittenberg castle. 

The partiality shown by the popes themselves to various religious 
orders may well be an instance of mistaken zeal, since it led to the 
weakening of the authority of the hierarchy. Yet the Holy See was 
no doubt right in thinking that the vitality of monastic life, if main- 
tained, would strengthen the militant spirit in the Church. It would 
be tedious to rehearse the many favours granted to the regulars, 
even in the darkest days of pagan sensuousness at Rome, by Sixtus 
IV, Alexander VI, and Julius II. They began with Sixtus IV's bull 
Marc magnum (1474) which granted to the Franciscans exceptional 
faculties for preaching, hearing confessions, and burying the dead 
in their churches. It seems obvious that the popes, especially while 
protecting the friars, wished to further the work of the most active 
section of the Church; and one is struck by the fact that in many 
cases, the orders which they encouraged followed an austere rule 
inspired by burning piety. Such was the case of the Minims, the 
Tertiaries attached to them, the Brothers of the Common Life, and 
the Apostolic Brothers. Besides, reform and re-union were fre- 
quently attempted by the popes in the case of the larger orders: 
the Franciscans (under Sixtus IV), the Dominicans (under Alex- 
ander VI), the Benedictines (under Julius II). 

However, no real reformation of the regular clergy was possible 
so long as the practice of exemptions made each order and within 



26 THE CATHOLIC REFORMATION 

each order each house practically independent. In fact, while 
granting favours to individual monasteries, the popes, far from 
strengthening their authority, as they believed, really played into 
the hands of what remained of the conciliar party. Viewing things as 
a whole, the conciliar movement had tended to the breaking up of 
the Church, not merely into nations, but also into numberless separ- 
ate units. Those who stood against the supreme authority of the 
pope and hierarchy were generally defending privileges, which in 
most cases were no better than abuses. At all events, they were pro- 
viding safe hiding holes for all kinds of moral evils. The point is an 
important one, and is perfectly illustrated in the happenings of the 
mid-fifteenth century, when Pope Nicholas V attempted with great 
earnestness the general reformation of the Church. His purpose was 
manifested in the full support which he lent to the popular preacher, 
St. John of Capistrano. He also sent Cardinal Guillaume d'Estoute- 
ville to France, where he was to reform the collegiate churches, 
schools, and universities, and in fact, did give new statutes to Pans 
University. But both the evils to be amended and the resistance to 
correction on the part of privileged bodies are best revealed in the 
mission of Cardinal Nicholas de Cusa, a Rhinelander, who in his 
capacity as a papal legate ranged over the whole of Austria and Ger- 
many in the years 1451 and 1452. 

The main object of his mission was to proclaim and distribute the 
indulgence granted for the Jubilee of 1450; but he had received 
extensive powers of visitation and reformation and, in the course of 
a series of provincial synods, issued many drastic regulations. The 
evils he had to deal with were those which have been described 
above. He took steps against the exactions of secular or regular 
patrons and endeavoured to improve the financial condition of the 
parish clergy, who in their turn were to refrain from simony in 
every shape, such as the receiving of fees for confession. The prac- 
tice of keeping concubines had become widespread, especially 
among cathedral chapters, the members of which belonged to the 
nobility. Nicholas de Cusa forbade it under the severest penalties. 
Spurious indulgences, miracles, and pilgrimages, the unnecessary 
swarming of brotherhoods which withdrew their members from 
parish life, and generally all petty devotions inspired by supersti- 
tion, were no less summarily dealt with. Visitors were sent to many 
monasteries, reforming movements like that of Bursfeld were en- 



EARLY REACTIONS AGAINST THE DISEASE 27 

couraged. Where compliance was not forthcoming, new abbots were 
substituted for those who refused to obey. A further impulse was 
given to preaching; all parish priests were ordered to have a copy of 
St. Thomas Aquinas' Summa of the articles of the faith and of the 
sacraments of the church. Rules were prescribed for the dignity of 
public worship and against the undue exposition of the Blessed 
Sacrament. 

That all those decrees might actually be enforced, Nicholas de 
Cusa did his best to strengthen the powers of the pope and of the 
hierarchy. He ordered all priests to recite after every Mass the fol- 
lowing invocation : "O Lord, guard from all adversity Thy servants 
our pope and our bishop, as well as the whole Catholic Church." 
He safeguarded the rights of bishops' courts against archdeacons. 
He compelled non-exempt monks to acknowledge episcopal author- 
ity, and in one case, at least, made use of the latter even for the 
reformation of exempt monasteries. 

All in all, his work anticipated, on many points, that of the Coun- 
cil of Trent by a hundred years. Why, then, was its effect only tem- 
porary? The reasons for its failure are easily ascertained, and pro- 
vide food for thought. In fact, the very same causes which stood in 
the way of Catholic Reformation in the fifteenth century were to 
bring about the Protestant revolt in the sixteenth^ was greed, the 
thirst for power, and the lusts of the flesh, which induced one gen- 
eration of princes to support every local resistance to Rome, and 
perpetuate abuses which no centralized Church would have toler- 
ated. It was greed, the thirst for power, and the lusts of the flesh 
which induced another generation of princes to take up the so-called 
Reformation into their own hands, and to tear up the body of the 
Church$|ln either case "independence" meant freedom from all 
spiritual restraints. 1 

Despite the efforts of Nicholas de Cusa, the spirit of nationalism 
would not allow of any sums being sent to Rome for indulgences 
or otherwise; the mendicant friars were hostile; so was the con- 
ciliar party. Besides, those whose conduct had been reproved often 
put up a more or less open fight. Hemold, abbot of St. Godeshard 
at Hildesheim, after having sworn obedience, went on living in his 



1 The above judgement applies to temporal rulers only. The real moral earnestness 
or many leformers, especially after the fir^t phase ot the religious struggle was over, 
will certainly not be questioned here. 



28 THE CATHOLIC REFORMATION 

old way. At Dedclmgen, when a reformer was sent to the monas- 
tery, the monks broke his carnage to pieces; at St. Ulric, Augsburg, 
an emissary from the reformed abbey of Melk was imprisoned for 
a fortnight. The alliance between the vested interests of the clergy 
and the secular power appeared clearly when Nicholas de Cusa 
was consecrated to the episcopal see of Brixen in the Tyrol, and at- 
tempted to correct the abuses in his diocese. He made it compulsory 
for his parish clergy lo meet in chapters thrice yearly; unified the 
liturgy; and warned the faithful against the beautiful tales of the 
Golden Legend. But when he undertook to reform the nunnery at 
Sonnenburg, where many daughters of the nobility had found a 
home, he came up against the determined will of the temporal 
ruler, the duke of Tyrol, Sigismund, who refused to acknowledge 
any authority but his own. A quarrel ensued, m the course of which 
the duke more than once had recourse to violence; it was to assume 
huge proportions and to last many years, and we are not concerned 
with its history. But Nicholas de Cusa's own view of the position is 
significant. In his mind, the freedom of the Church was the nec- 
essary condition of its reformation; no reforming bishop ought to be 
a court prelate, the compliant servant of a temporal ruler. He in- 
duced Pope Nicholas V to define in the following words the duties 
of the bishops of Bnxen: "They shall be neither the chancellors nor 
chaplains of secular princes, but will be bound to reside in their 
diocese." 



The efforts of Nicholas V were continued for some time by his 
successor Pius II (1458-1464) under whose pontificate Cusa admin- 
istered the papal states in the same spirit in which he had governed 
his diocese and composed a plan for the reformation of the Curia. 
Unfortunately, the evangelical ideal was gradually being smothered 
at Rome by the enthusiasm which ancient literature, philosophy, and 
art were arousing, and various feeble attempts to improve the state 
of the Church at large proved abortive. Alexander VI, when struck 
with awe and repentance by the murder of his son, the duke of 
Gandia, resolved to mend matters. He called up a committee of 
cardinals to prepare a general reformation, and drafted a bull 
against abuses (1497). But it was, alas, never to take effect. At last 
a sincere and well-meaning man, Pius III, was raised to the papal 



EARLY REACTIONS AGAINST THE DISEASE 29 

throne; but his untimely death (1503) frustrated his schemes. When 
reading the history of the period, one has almost the uneasy and 
painful impression that a perverse fate was set on defeating all 
reforming plans, and that things would never come to a head. 

Yet, in the absence of guidance from above, individual move- 
ments for the betterment of Church conditions had begun in several 
countries. These movements anticipated the Catholic Reformation 
proper, insofar as they tried to restore morality in the Church; but 
they were different from it, insofar as they merely looked back- 
wards, expecting salvation merely from a general restoration of the 
old forms of discipline, especially in the monasteries; and took no 
account of altered conditions, which made adaptation a necessity. 
Savonarola's attempt to establish the kingdom of Christ at Florence 
(1481-1498) was in fact but the reaction of mediaevalism against the 
Renaissance. In France, the conservative wing of the reforming 
party could think of no remedies but a reinforcement of the strict 
rule in the various religious orders, and a reversion to the old 
system of elections throughout the Church, culminating in general 
councils of a parliamentary type. And yet, though it was not realized 
that a new world demanded new methods, important results were 
obtained; and it is not a little significant that this true reformation 
should have taken place twenty years at least before Luther. 

At the French States General of 1484, the representatives of the 
clergy raised a protest against those very administrative malpractices 
which were the cause of corruption, ignorance, and superstition in 
the Church. The Provincial Council of Sens (July, 1485) issued a 
whole set of canons on public worship, monastic discipline, against 
excessive taxation and the disorderly life of clerics. In Paris, the 
principal of Montaigu College, Jean Standonck, mystic and scholar, 
gathered around him a circle of reforming spirits. Similar groups 
began to appear everywhere, with abbots and bishops as their heads, 
Their influence soon spread to the civil authorities and to royalty 
itself. It culminated in the general assembly of the French clerg) 
which met at Tours on November 12, 1493. There the sores of the 
Church were laid bare: the peddling of holy things, the abuse oi 
indulgences and collections, various forms of simony, the wandering 
about of monks, the ignorance of preachers, the exactions of eccle 
siastical judges; all these being due originally to the neglect of ok 
canons, to the fact that no synods were held, to the granting o 



30 THE CATHOLIC REFORMATION 

benefices to unworthy persons, to exemptions and dispensations, and 
the holding of benefices in commendam. 

At the same time the French king, Charles VIII, applied to the 
pope for his help towards the enforcement of the decisions of the 
assembly; and on July 24, 1496, Alexander VI appointed three 
Benedictine abbots as visitors of all the French houses of the order. 
But spontaneous reformation had already begun. Several bishops 
called up synods, as at Langres, Chartres, Nantes, Troyes, and 
undertook to improve matters in various monasteries. The move- 
ment was gathering momentum among the religious communities 
themselves. At Cluny, from 1481 to 1486, the general chapters under- 
took the work of concentration. In 1486, statutes were issued for the 
restoration of the rule, the re-enforcement of fasting, silence, and 
the common life. Steps were taken to help materially decayed 
houses, and to apply part of the revenues to the repair of monastic 
buildings. In 1494, the chapter organized visitations and prescribed 
a minute inquiry into every detail of the life in the monasteries. 
The visitors were empowered to suspend and excommunicate 
abbots or priors if they rebelled against them. Still harsher measures 
were taken in 1499. The reforming action was continued right up 
to the appearance of Protestantism. A similar process took place at 
Citeaux, Tiron, and elsewhere. 

The pressure brought to bear upon Rome by the reforming 
movement made itself felt more and more after 1500. On the request 
of King Louis XII, Pope Alexander VI granted to Cardinal d'Am- 
boise full powers as a legate in France in 1501. The Cardinal under- 
took the reformation of the mendicant orders. He had to struggle 
against huge difficulties, and had recourse more than once to main 
force. In order to effect the reformation of the Benedictine abbey of 
St. Germain in Paris, he sent to it two religious from Cluny accom- 
panied by a party of men-at-arms, who forcibly and without any 
parley expelled three recalcitrant monks. In the case of the Paris 
Franciscans, he had to send to them a company of one hundred 
archers and several sergeants, who put them under arrest and 
threatened them with expulsion. The method used by him in France 
was the same as was being used beyond the Channel: it con- 
sisted in furthering the action of reformed branches, such as that of 
the Observant Franciscans. In England King Edward IV had estab- 
lished them at Greenwich in 1480. Henry VII founded another 



EARLY REACTIONS AGAINST THE DISEASE 31 

house at Richmond, and another again at Newark, in 1499; then 
turned out unreformed Conventuals to make room for them at 
Newcastle, Southampton, and Canterbury. In 1502, the Greenwich 
Observants prevailed upon the Conventuals to "change their reli- 
gious habits" for coarser ones. In France, Cardinal d'Amboise in- 
troduced small groups of them into each Franciscan house. He did 
the same sort of thing in the case of the independent Benedictine 
abbeys, restored moral and financial discipline among the nuns of 
Fontevrault and other houses, and finally gathered detached monas- 
teries into unions or bound them to existing orders. His religious 
dictatorship, which lasted nine years, produced lasting results. 

As the Protestant outbreak drew near, the Church in France, as 
in England, seems to have been, not on a downward, but on an 
upward slope. New ecclesiastical buildings of all descriptions were 
being built or repaired. The number of ordained clerics, secular and 
regular, was steadily increasing. In Seez diocese, it rose from 270 in 
1445, to 840 in 1470, 902 in 1490, 1086 in 1510, and 1196 in 1514; and 
the same was true at Rouen and Toulouse. The progress was no 
less notable in regard to quality, the proportion of university grad- 
uates and members of the bourgeoisie and nobility also rising 
higher and higher. 

Yet the regular clergy had put up a hard fight against Cardinal 
d'Amboise; and once the reforming movement had spread to Rome, 
and had brought about the gathering of the Later an Council, that 
same resistance of vested interests was to bring its impulse into 
immobility. The council first met on May 2, 1512, and after lasting 
through twelve sessions broke up on March 12, 1517. It was clear 
from the first that the Fathers were alive to the needs of changed 
times. Two points were made clear by the speakers: first, that the 
temporal overlordship of the Holy See had to be set aside and to be 
replaced by agreements made with each sovereign and safeguarding 
the interests of religion; secondly, that the spiritual supremacy of 
the papacy was a necessary preliminary to any general reformation. 
In his sermon at the opening of the first session, Giles of Viterbo 
advised the Church to give up the use of material weapons, and to 
confine herself to that of spiritual weapons, piety and prayer, the 
cuirass of faith and the sword of light; while on May 10, the Vene- 
tian, Bernardino Zano, preached on the unity of the Church, which 
could only be ensured, he said, through the submission of the limbs 



32 THE CATHOLIC REFORMATION 

to their head, the Vicar of Christ. On May 17, Thomas Cajetan 
further stressed the necessity of papal authority, and made an on- 
slaught upon conciliar theories, and especially upon the council of 
Pisa, which had been called by the French king, Louis XII, No 
voice among the assembled Fathers was raised to assail his views. 

In fact, the Lateran Council did succeed in giving effect to these 
two principles when sanctioning the Concordat of 1516 with France, 
which gave the death-blow to conciliansm there, and ensured spir- 
itual supremacy to the Holy See. But in regard to Church reforma- 
tion, it did not probe the sore to the bottom, and was content with 
timid, though well-meaning, recommendations. It did pass a decree 
with the following provisions: that bishoprics and abbacies should 
be conferred only upon worthy persons and according to canonical 
rules; that resignations, transfers, dispensations, and reservations 
should be limited; that cardinals and members of the Curia should 
adopt a stricter rule of life. But when thorough reformation of the 
administrative and fiscal systems of the Church was suggested, the 
assembly split up into two parties, and it was soon clear that nothing 
drastic would be done. A quarrel arose between seculars and reg- 
ulars, especially over the bull Mare magnum; eventually the powers 
of the bishops were somewhat strengthened. But the general atmos- 
phere seems to have been lukewarm. It was a pity that France, 
England, and Germany should have been practically absent from the 
council; their moral earnestness and their critical temperament 
might have altered matters. Unfortunately the Italian wars allowed 
of no general gathering. 

While the Lateran Fathers struggled feebly with the difficulties 
of the hour, things were developing on new lines elsewhere. Leo X 
was giving proof of his clearsightedness and political sense in the 
matter of the French Concordat. It seems surprising, at first sight, 
that he should have relinquished into the hands of a temporal ruler 
so much of his properly spiritual authority. The king of France 
was henceforth to appoint to all ecclesiastical livings and prefer- 
ments, while the pope would be allowed to veto such appointments 
only if the canonical rules had been infringed. The moral influence 
and wealth of the Gallican Church were thus placed at the disposal 
of the sovereign. At the same time Leo X, while striking a bargain 
of doubtful advantage to the future interests of the Church at large, 
was trying to turn it to the best possible account, by inserting 



EARLY REACTIONS AGAINST THE DISEASE 33 

clauses which were to ensure the reformation of the French clergy, 
even more so than the Lateran decrees. The very nature of the 
agreement did away with all papal reservations and expectative 
graces. University graduates were to have one third of the benefices. 
Excommunication and interdict were henceforth to be used only in 
certain specified cases. The most important provision by far was that 
which forbade seculars to hold regular benefices and the reverse. 
Steps were taken against concubmary priests. In each cathedral or 
metropolitan church, a canonry was now reserved for a graduate in 
theology, who was bound to lecture to the faithful at least once a 
week on Holy Scripture. 

Leo X dealt similarly with other countries as well. Though tem- 
poral princes were later to make use of his very concessions to bar 
the way to the reforming action of the Council of Trent, it cannot 
be denied that, for the time being, his policy had beneficial effects. 
In the case of France, by granting the king extremely wide powers 
over his Church, it took away from him the main reason he might 
have had of joining hands with the German princes or with Henry 
VIII and declaring a schism; it also bound him to the interests of the 
Holy See, and made him the foremost instrument of reformation 
in his dominions. Besides, by ensuring the removal of the most 
blatant abuses and the spiritual health of the French Church, it de- 
prived Protestantism of its chief grievances, and made it difficult 
for it to gam a firm foothold. In the case of Spam, Leo X respected 
the ecclesiastical independence of the realm, thus attaching it to the 
papacy. He granted many privileges to Portugal, and concluded an 
agreement with Poland, much on the same lines as the French 
Concordat. Had the latter been extended to England and Germany, 
the greed of princes would have been everywhere sated, and the 
theological revolt of Luther would have been deprived of all State 
support. Within its limits, the policy of Leo X appears as wise and 
full of foresight; and it has done much to lessen the effects of the 

Protestant outbreak. 

* * * 

"Policy" alone, however, could not repair the ruins heaped up by 
more than one century of maladministration and moral decay. 
Devotion, sacrifice, enthusiasm were needed, as also a feeling of 
deep remorse for what had been wrong in the past. These fine quali- 
ties indeed had not disappeared, since the spirit of reform was at 



34 THE CATHOLIC REFORMATION 

work everywhere; but they would not have been sufficient, if men 
had only looked backwards, had only attempted the re-enforcement 
of the old rules and canons, a reversion to early monasticism and 
to the disciplinary practice of the Middle Ages. The changes which 
had taken place could not be ignored, and reformation must now 
develop along new lines. It had to take into account, not merely the 
division of Europe into national units, but also the cultural, literarv, 
and artistic development brought about by the Renaissance, which 
could not be ignored. 

In other words, while no amendment of Church conditions was 
possible without an evangelical revival, that revival must consist 
mostly in chastening the spirit of the times, must be a combination 
of a cultured Christianity and a christianized Renaissance. This 
combination, which was to be the essence of the Catholic Reforma- 
tion, had its root as early as the late fifteenth century in the move- 
ment known as Christian humanism. It was the natural reaction of 
the genuine piety of the body of the Church against corruption in 
its head. Its progress was to be simultaneous with the progress of 
the reforming party; its representatives were slowly to force their 
way into the College of Cardinals, the curial offices, and eventually 
to conquer the papacy itself; and it was then that their efforts were 
to mature and bear fruit in the Council of Trent, while they also 
inspired the work of the Society of Jesus. 

The task which the Christian humanists set out to perform was a 
new and original one. The harm which had been done by the 
Renaissance, they thought, must be undone by the Renaissance. Nor 
was the duty thus to be fulfilled such an ungracious one; for there 
was much which was of lasting value in the speculative philosophy 
and practical everyday wisdom of antiquity, in its perfection of 
literary form and artistic beauty. There was much also which might 
be used to help in the strengthening and spreading of Christianity. 
For one thing, the labours of profound study might be reconciled 
with Christian seriousness of mind. Then again, antiquity might be 
viewed as having had at least glimpses of the absolute truth; and 
to that extent, its teachings might still be profitable. Why not learn, 
Erasmus wrote, "holiness from Phocio, poverty from Fabricius . . . , 
magnanimity from Camilus, sternness from Brutus, cleanness from 
Pythagoras, steady temperance from Socrates, integrity from Cato?" 
The poets of ancient Greece and Rome were in various respects 



EARLY REACTIONS AGAINST THE DISEASE 35 

worthy of imitation, for despite the pagan fables in their works, 
they had felt, at least obscurely, the beauty of divine things. Ancient 
philosophers yearned for communion with the absolute perfection 
of the Godhead. Plato especially is almost a forerunner of Christian 
theology and mysticism. Besides, antiquity should not be wholly 
identified with false beliefs. It had its Christian period, which lasted 
for centuries. St. Paul himself was a Greek writer of note; and the 
first Christian interpretation of the ancient world was supplied by 
the. Fathers of the Church. The Christian humanists of the late fif- 
teenth and early sixteenth centuries were but following suit: they 
gathered, from antiquity before the Revelation, enough knowledge 
to serve them as a guide for the study of antiquity after the Revela- 
tion of the sacred texts and patristic literature. 

This attempt to seek Christianity even in pagan Greece and 
Rome, to rescue the Church through the very means which had 
produced her downfall, may seem somewhat paradoxical; and in- 
deed it did, upon occasion, run to lengths which are to be deplored, 
were it but in the name of good taste. Besides, it was to be feared 
that the flaming ideal of apostleship might be damped by the 
classical philosophy of the golden mean. But the danger was not as 
yet a real one. The Christian humanists ardently wished for a reli- 
gious revival. They aimed at a true reformation not merely a 
correction of abuses, but a cleansing and a lifting up of hearts, 
grounded on a more sincere acquiescence in the Gospel, a deeper 
love of Christ. They did not want every man to set up as a theolo- 
gian; but they wanted him to read the Bible humbly and piously, 
and to gather from it spiritual truths. They insisted on the impor- 
tance of preaching the right sort of preaching: not by means of 
divisions and distinctions of the scholastic type, but sweetly, kindly, 
m words that all might grasp, that might win through love rather 
than strike with fear. In this respect they were decidedly different 
from the early Protestants, both in Germany and England; 
though they have often been said to have unwittingly been their 
forerunners. 2 

2 Such was the theory defended in 1869 by Frederic Seebohm m his book entitled 
The Oxfoid reformers, John Colet, Etasmus and Thomas More, being a history of 
their fellow-work^ It has been brought forward again more recently, for instance in 
History of religions, Vol. II (International theological library), Edinburgh, 1920, by 
George Foot Moore, professor of the histoiy of religions in Harvard University. That 
humanism is not to be confused with the Reformation has been conclusively shown 
by Cardinal Gasquet in his Eve of the Reformation. 



36 THE CATHOLIC REFORMATION 

Calling "Pre-Reformers" all those who attempted to improve the 
state of religion before Luther is a common enough mistake. But 
whatever we know of the deeper feelings of the Christian human- 
ists runs clear against such a view of things. It cannot be shown thai 
they ever took up the theological position of the Protestants, or that 
they shared their political or social views. Erasmus clearly asserted 
that works must be conjoined with faith in the task of salvation, 
and both he and Lefevre d'Etaples looked up .to the pope as the 
supreme head of Christendom. It is true that they themselves, as 
well as their school devoted much time to the critical study of the 
Scriptures. But what likeness is there between the patient efforts oi 
scholars to elucidate, through linguistic and historical research, the 
true meaning of the sacred texts, and the free interpretation of those 
same texts, through the "Spirit," which the Protestants claimed as a 
right for everyone of the faithful, however unlearned he might be? 
It is true also that the Christian humanists denounced intellectual 
evils, and attempted to substitute for the debased remnants of me- 
diaeval theology a new type of religious culture, both more enlight- 
ened in its thought and more evangelical in its spirit. In so doing, 
however, they laid the groundwork, not for the Protestant but for 
the Catholic Reformation. 

Thus were the gentle wisdom, the temperate persuasiveness of the 
best among the ancients outward tokens, now, of a love of Christ 
which was anything but merely moderate made to spread the 
teachings of Christ. The aim which the Christian humanists had 
before their eyes, when reviving classical studies, was strikingly ex- 
pressed by the German scholar, Trithemius: "The ancient authors 
we are engaged m reading," he says, "should be for us but the 
means of reaching a higher goal. We may with a clear conscience 
recommend the study of such books to all those who wish to take 
it up, not in a worldly spirit and with a view to witty trifles, but 
for the earnest development of their intellectual faculties, seeking in 
it, according to the example of the Holy Fathers, ripe fruits for the 
improvement of Christian knowledge. Nay, such studies, in our 
judgment, are necessary for this purpose." Indeed there are thus 
spoke Johannes Butzbach "in the ancient authors many descrip- 
tions which hurt moral delicacy, but we may not on that account 
dispense with the study of the classics. Only we should as far as 
possible, and according to the advice of St. Basil, go to work as the 



EARLY REACTIONS AGAINST THE DISEASE 37 

bees do, that do not suck in the whole of the plants or the poison 
that is m them, but absorb only the honey." 

Three quarters of a century later, one of the refugees at Douay 
College was to use words almost similar to these, when referring to 
the educational scheme of the Jesuits. Grounding the teaching of 
the young upon the study of the classics, and especially of classical 
form rather than substance, might lead to superficiality and dryness; 
it did, in fact, have that result after a certain length of time, when 
the enthusiasm of the Renaissance had given way to a humdrum 
routine. But our present point is that the Jesuit plan, in all its 
essentials, was already outlined m the educational practice of the 
Christian humanists. Ancient literature was set up as an absolute 
ideal, which it was not possible to improve upon. Only through imi- 
tation of it could perfection in prose or poetry be attained. The 
subject-matter of each work was to remain Christian; but its out- 
ward form ought to be thoroughly classical. 

Many treatises were printed to teach adult or juvenile scholars 
the principles of grammar and eloquence, as expounded by the 
ancients. Thus the French humanist, Gaguin, the author of a poem 
on the Immaculate Conception, also wrote a handbook for poets 
called Ars versificatona; and another French humanist of a some- 
what later generation, Clichtoue, who was to wage a controversial 
war against the Lutherans, published with his own commentaries 
the DC eloquentia of Stefano Fieschi and the Opusculum in elegan- 
tianum praecepta of Agostmo Dathi. Schoolboys and students soon 
had at their disposal a number of fine editions of the classics, of 
dictionaries and grammars. That this was not merely a lay move- 
ment, and that pagan antiquity was made to help m the study of 
Christian literature, appears from the syllabus of a German parish 
school, of the year 1500 or so; it included the Iliad, Aesop's Fables, 
Terence, the Aenetd, Cicero's De Amicitia but also the historical 
part of the Old Testament, the Gospel and the Acts, works of Boece, 
St. Jerome, and St. Basil. 

Though "imitation" might become superficial after a time, the 
mingling of all that was best in classical culture with all that was 
best in Christian piety, on the "eve of the Reformation," produced a 
particularly attractive type of religion. Clear minds, freed from all 
the lumber of decadent scholasticism, temperate, reasonable, and 
elegant in expression; kind hearts, imbued with all the sweetness of 



38 THE CATHOLIC REFORMATION 

the Gospel, eagerly spiritual, trusting and humble; both minds and 
hearts filled with the supreme thought of peace, and therefore disin- 
clined from all social or political troubles, averse to individual self- 
assertion, to rebellion against the established order, whether in 
society or in the Church; conservative in their actions, and yet free 
in their thoughts; trusting enough in the permanent unity of the 
Christian commonwealth to allow themselves surprising flights of 
imagination as in the Utopia or outbursts of satire as in the 
Encomium Monae which they never thought of turning into 
explosive charges towards the disruption of the Church; such were 
the contemporaries of More and Clichtoue about the year 1500. That 
their "moderation" was not exclusive of absolute devotion to their 
Christian ideal, the martyrdom of More, like that of John Fisher, 
was to show. 

BIBLIOGRAPHY 

It is impossible to give even the sketch of a bibliography representing" 
the very wide subject dealt with in the previous chapter. The most im- 
portant sources are once again P. Imbart de la Tour, Les ongines de la 
Re for me, Vol. II (providing original information on the reforming 
movement in the French Church and on Christian humanism in 
France); Marcel Renaudet, Prereforme et humamsme a Pans, Parts II 
and III; Johannes Janssen, Geschischte des deutschen Voltes, Vol. I (on 
devotion and humamsm in Germany), and Pastor, History of the Popes, 
Vols. VI, VII, and VIII (especially on the Lateran Council). On the 
latter, also see Hefele-Hergenroether, Conalien-geschichte, Vol. V1II-2, 
and the speech of Giles of Viterbo (Egidio Canisio), Oratw pnma 
synodi Lateranensis habita . . . (1513). On Montaigu College, see below, 
Chap. VII. Many other works have been used for particular points: on 
wills, see Surtees Society Publications, Vol. II, Wills and Inventories, ist 
Part, and Vol. LIII, Testamenta Eboracensia, 4th Part; on piety and 
devotion, Alfred von Reurnont, Bnefe heiliger und gottesjuichtiger hal- 
lener (1877), and Kleme histonsche Schnften (1882); on reformation in 
the fifteenth century, the excellent thesis of Edmund Vansteenberghe, 
Le cardinal Nicolas de Cues (Cusa) (1920); on the religious revival in 
early sixteenth century England, P. Janelle, L'Angleterre cathohque a 
la veille du schisme (1935); on Christian humamsm, see The life of Sir 
Thomas More, Kt., by his great-grandson, Thomas More (Cresacre 
More), (London, 1726); The Life and Illustrious Martyrdom of Sir 
Thomas More, by Thomas Stapleton, translated by Philip E. Hallett 
(London, 1928); The Life and Death of Sir Thomas More, by Nicholas 
Harpsfield, ed. by E. V. Hitchcock and R. W. Chambers, and other 
works on Thomas More by the latter author; the works of Tnthemius, 
Johannis Trithemn . . . opera (Francofurti, 1601); P. de Vaissiere, De 
Roberti Gagumi . . . vita et openbus (1896). 



CHAPTER III 



Reformation Again Delayed 



THE administrative results of the Lateran Council were not 
such as might have been desired; but it was the outcome of 
a reforming movement which could not be withstood, and 
which had borne fruit long before Luther's protest was heard in 
Germany; it created a new spirit, which made itself felt very soon 
in the government of the Church as well as in the intellectual and 
artistic life of the Roman court. Granted that the pontificate of 
Leo X was not a pattern of Christian austerity; yet the time of the 
worst abuses was now overpast. The state of Christianity was im- 
proving; and it would have improved much faster, and wholly 
forestalled the Protestant upheaval, had the papacy been free to 
concentrate upon home problems. Unfortunately, the correc- 
tion of abuses, even indeed, some years later, the suppression of the 
German revolt, ranked only second among the difficulties which 
Rome had to contend with. Just about the year 1517 the whole of 
Christendom was threatened with a Turkish invasion, which might 
have done away with Western civilization altogether; while the 
ambition of various Christian princes constantly endangered the 
independence of the Holy See. It compelled the popes to turn most 
of their attention to international politics, and to play the part of 
temporal rulers rather than that of religious leaders. 

On the other hand, it is true that they also lacked the necessary 
insight to anticipate the Lutheran uprising. Not, indeed, that they 
were prevented by lukewarmness from understanding its religious 
motives, but that the spirit of the North was foreign to men who 
were surrounded by the exuberance of Italian art and culture, with 
all the wealth of external expression these possessed. The Renais- 
sance was no longer responsible for monstrous crimes; but its in- 

39 



40 THE CATHOLIC REFORMATION 

tellectual and moral ideal still inspired the life of the Roman court. 
Man's highest pursuits were still held to be, in the natural order, 
the acquirement of knowledge, the erection of monuments, the 
production of works of art, and the government of states. Indeed, 
such an ideal had a greatness of its own; it might be reconciled with 
the Christian spirit, and was no bar to personal devotion; but its 
outward splendour made it difficult for the Curia to understand 
the puritanical mysticism of the North, to realize its explosive force, 
and to obviate its consequences. 

Much has already been said in the preceding pages about the 
pontificate of Leo X (1513-1521). Contemporaries described it as 
being the reign of Minerva succeeding upon that of Venus. The 
rising soberness and seriousness thus denoted were not confined to 
the intellectual sphere. Abuses current but one generation before 
had now become unthinkable. Bribery had been made impossible 
at papal elections by a bull of Julius II. At the conclave which chose 
Leo X, the personal virtue of the candidates was taken into account. 
The new pope himself, however cultured and refined m his tastes, 
was sincerely devout. Every day, even m the midst of pressing busi- 
ness, he would hear Mass and read his breviary. His moral character, 
both before and after his election, remained unspotted. In his ap- 
pointment of cardinals, he was not always, it is true, guided by the 
highest motives. The first batch, in 1513, included worthless relatives 
or associates, one of them being the scandalous Bibbiena. But the 
second batch, a few months before Luther defended his theses at 
Wittenberg, showed marked improvement. Some of the new cardi- 
nals owed their appointment to their high connections or to their 
kinship with the Medici family, to which Leo X belonged; but the 
others were men of great learning and personal dignity. Such were 
Tommaso de Vio, better known as Cajetan, the general of the 
Dominicans; and Egidio Canisio, often called Giles of Viterbo, the 
general of the Augustmian Hermits, and reformer of his order, a 
man of deep piety, of undisputed moral and intellectual eminence. 
The college of cardinals was now open to rejuvenating influences. 

That the age of Leo X should be considered as a preface to the 
Catholic Reformation will, it is true, give rise to some wonder. The 
material prosperity and the artistic magnificence of Rome at this 
time seemed to some contemporaries, and still seem to many nowa- 
days, hard to reconcile with the soberness and lowliness of the true 



REFORMATION AGAIN DELAYED 41 

Christian spirit. On the other hand the period was profusely praised 
by humanists and artists as a kind of golden age, and its memories 
were later treasured and cherished by them, after the sack of Rome 
in 1527 had put an end to it for ever. The city had but lately been, 
in the eyes of the Florentines, little more than an uncultured village 
of cowherds; now it rivalled Florence herself through the beauty 
of its palaces and private houses, the luxurious dresses of its in- 
habitants, their proficiency in music and dancing. What is more, 
it might rightly hold itself as being, in regard to culture and art, 
the capital of the Western world. And yet all this refinement and 
splendour were not, as Luther thought, tantamount to moral de- 
pravity. It was possible for refined Romans to lead sincerely pious 
lives. That very beauty of outward form of which they were so fond 
might be made to glorify Christian truth. The example of Leo X 
himself is a typical one. He ate but one dinner a day; and fasted 
three times a week; yet he delighted in listening to music after his 
meals. He was a composer himself, and spared no expense to attract 
performers from various parts of Italy and from countries abroad. 
His own private chapel included singers from Italy, Spain, France, 
and the Netherlands. But his purpose, in thus encouraging the 
musical art, was the beautifying of public worship. The Renaissance 
was still there, but it was being Christianized. 

It is true that pagan forms of speech and pagan motives in paint- 
\ng, sculpture, and decoration were still freely used. When Leo X 
took possession of the Lateran after his election, triumphal arches 
were raised in the streets of Rome through which the procession 
was to pass. One of these, built at the expense of the banker, 
Agostino Chigi, was adorned with the .figures of Apollo, Mercury, 
Pallas, of Nymphs and Centaurs. Another arch had a statue of Moses 
between those of Perseus and Apollo, Mercury and Diana. The 
paintings m the loggie at the Vatican, completed under Leo X, 
exhibited the same abundancy of profane motives: the legends and 
even the lighter side of classical mythology revived there, with 
Venus and Jupiter, Bacchus and Ariadne, Apollo and Marsyas, 
Medea, the Sphinx, Centaurs, Satyrs, Nymphs, Harpies, frolicsome 
Eros, Tritons fighting with marine monsters. Yet the very fanciful- 
ness of such a decoration shows that it should not be taken too 
seriously. It testifies mostly to a taste for playful amusement, and 
to antiquarian curiosity, the later being evidenced by pictures rep- 



42 THE CATHOLIC REFORMATION 

resenting sacrifices, an augur, a ruined temple, the App*,an way, etc. 

In fact, the pious inspiration due to the reforming rrovement was 
already present in the major compositions of Raphael (1483-1520), 
who was entrusted by Leo X with the supervision -of all building 
and decorative work at the Vatican. Pagan motive? had not wholly 
disappeared from the tapestries of the Sistme Chapel, the cartoons 
of which are now preserved in South Kensington Museum: the 
Parcae, the labours of Hercules, were strangely mixed with Faith, 
Hope, and Charity; but the central spaces were occupied with sub- 
jects taken from the Old and New Testaments, and especially 
from the lives of SS. Peter and Paul. Though the intimate, naive, 
and somewhat awkard devotion of an earlier age had now given 
place to perfection and magnificence, yet such pictures as the 
Sistine Madonna or the Transfiguration testify to the depth of 
Raphael's devout feelings, and to the influence of the Lateran Coun- 
cil. It is significant that not merely Leo X himself, but also poets 
such as Anosto, courtly humanists such as Castiglione, deeply 
mourned Raphael's untimely death, which had surprised him while 
he was at work on the Transfiguration, and preparing for further 
religious work. 

The revival of devotional art was paralleled with a similar revival 
in the world of letters. Among Raphael's friends was the Christian 
humanist, Sadolet, one of the most prominent and attractive figures 
of the time: a man of sober and earnest piety, whose presence at 
the Roman court, and whose favour with Leo X, show that life 
m early sixteenth-century Rome was far from being an orgy of 
pagan revelry. 

Sadolet, who stood high among contemporary Latin writers, and 
wrote Ciceronian epistles, had achieved fame through his poem 
on the discovery of the Laocoon group of statuary. He spent his 
time in serious studies; from time to time he would gather his 
literary friends for tranquil debate. After a plain meal in some place 
reminiscent of the classical age, poems were recited and orations 
were read. Years after, Sadolet would cast back a glance of melan- 
choly regret upon those happy hours. Indeed, the period just pre- 
ceding the Protestant Reformation seems to have been, in Italy as 
well as in England, bathed in a golden light : the general atmosphere 
was not one of riotous sensuousness, but rather one of self-denying 
industry, of patient research, in which men freely, quietly enjoyed 



REFORMATION AGAIN DELAYED 43 

the pleasures of intellectual enquiry. The charm of literary pastimes 
was no bar to personal holiness. Sadolet was concerned with the 
amendment of Church conditions; he took no advantage of his 
influential position, rejected the gifts that came to him from every 
hand, and sought after no benefices. In him an enthusiastic apprecia- 
tion of classical letters was perfectly blended with ardent piety; and 
if he happened, in his Latin writings, to use such expressions as 
"by Hercules" or "ye immortal gods," it was, he said, to give greater 
force to his style, so as to make it fitter to serve justice and truth, 
and to urge men to righteousness. 

Many believed, like Sadolet, that classical elegance and purity 
of style were necessary for the fostering of Christian piety. This was 
not altogether an illusion in an age which set such store by purely 
literary accomplishments, and the notion was to inspire Catholic 
methods of education for centuries after the Council of Trent. It 
might lead to exaggerations, as when Zaccaria Ferren, at the bidding 
of Leo X, recast the hymns of the Breviary and substituted for their 
robust roughness and fervour an even smoothness which betokened 
the polished craftsman more than the ardent worshipper; or when 
he referred to the Virgin Mary as felix dea, or nympha candidissima; 
a kind of tastelessness into which, fifty years later, in the very height 
of the Catholic Reformation, Father Robert Southwell was still to 
lapse, when he called the Mother of Christ Sponsa Tonantis. 

Thus, in Italy as well as in France and in England, Christian 
humanism was the keynote of the age. Leo X was consistently 
friendly towards Erasmus, whose scholarly work on Scripture and 
the Fathers he greatly encouraged. The learned Dutchman was 
allowed to dedicate to the pope his edition of St. Jerome and his 
Greek New Testament; and the pontiff was most unwilling to 
believe the charge made against Erasmus, of having secretly con- 
nived at the Lutheran heresy: thus showing that, in his mind there 
was no necessary connection between Scriptural scholarship and 
new-fangledness in doctrine. Leo X also granted privileges to Aldo 
Manucci, the Venetian printer of Greek books, and founded in 
Rome a Greek college, of which the rector was Jan Lascaris. Chris- 
tian poetry was no less encouraged than Christian scholarship. In 
1521, the pope hastened the publication of Sannazaro's Latin poem 
De partu Vtrgims, and he befriended Marco Girolamo Vida, a 
young priest who, before the end of Leo's pontificate, set to work 



44 THE CATHOLIC REFORMATION 

upon his fine Latin epic on the Gospel story, the Chnsttas. Nor were 
Roman circles incurious in regard to the higher mysteries. Giovanni- 
Francesco Pico della Mirandula was the main representative of that 
Christian Platonism which was to last on right through the century, 
and dedicated to Leo X, himself a former pupil of Marsilio Ficino, 

his treatise De amore divino. 

# * * 

Thus the spirit which was to inspire the Catholic Reformation 
was already present in all its essentials. Deeply devout men were at 
work everywhere in Western Europe extracting from the Renais- 
sance all that was of lasting value, and moulding anew the intellec- 
tual, the artistic, and even the devotional life of the Church. But 
individual efforts were of little avail against the unwieldy system of 
ecclesiastical government. Administrative abuses were continued 
which, as one should never tire of repeating, were the real cause 
of moral corruption, and which only drastic action from above could 
remove. These abuses were the more bitterly resented, as they were 
of a financial nature. Huge sums of money had to be levied in order 
to satisfy the universal wish to beautify public worship. This was 
felt not merely at Rome, but also in Germany, France, and England, 
in the early sixteenth century. But the Roman Curia, like all bureau- 
cracies, was slow of mind and lacked imagination; and the collec- 
tion of money by means of indulgences was allowed to go to ex- 
tremes which met with opposition even in the Latin countries. In 
Spain, a protest was raised by Cardinal Ximenes against the in- 
dulgence published towards the completing of St. Peter's Church; 
and Venice, independent-minded as usual, forbade it altogether. We 
need hardly recount here the causes of the Lutheran revolt. The 
essential point is that a religious practice, first created as an incite- 
ment to repentance and moral improvement, was now being used, 
in a mechanical and dned-up form, as the equivalent of any other 
money-raising device. 

Thus were financial abuses continued in the Curia, in the shape 
of indulgences, taxation, duties, the sale of offices, etc., at the very 
moment when Christian humanism was refining and purifying an 
elite of worthy souls. Their aspirations found too little satisfaction 
in the reality around them. Many voices not those of rebels, but 
those of devoted adherents of the papacy began to complain of 
the existing state of things. In his Storia di Milano, Giovanni Andrea 



REFORMATION AGAIN DELAYED 45 

Prato denounced those monks who, "having nothing, yet own every- 
thing." The Sienese canon, Sigismondo Tizio, bitterly inveighed 
against financial malpractices. The illustrious Pico della Mirandula, 
a layman, in his address to the Lateran Council, shortly before its 
close m 1517, uttered severe warnings and demanded, not merely 
the proclamation, but also the enforcement, of reforming regula- 
tions. "If Leo X," he concluded, "leave wickedness yet unpunished, 
if he refuse to heal our sores, God Himself, it may be feared, will 
open up and destroy the ailing limbs, not with lancet and lint, but 
with fire and sword." 

And yet such complaints and denunciations failed, throughout 
the reign of Leo X, to bring about the long-desired Reformation. 
When all has been said about the pope's love of "honour and 
glory," the luxury of the Roman court, the loose living of some of 
its members, the corruption and bribery, the mam cause of the 
delay still has to be mentioned. It seems hard to realize nowadays 
that the Turks were pressing hard on Hungary and Poland, that 
European civilization stopped at the Adriatic, and that Italy and 
Rome were threatened with an Ottoman conquest. Yet such was 
the danger that the popes had to face from 1500 to 1530. The policy 
of Leo X aimed first and foremost at bringing about the union of 
Christian princes against the invader; but the sovereigns who were 
appealed to seemed to care little for the common welfare of Chris- 
tendom, and were governed by none but the most selfish motives. 
They sought the favour of the papacy to use it as a weapon in the 
game of political and armed warfare, and tried to win it at small 
cost, with emphatic protestations of friendship and lavish promises; 
accepting the pope as an ally, but steadily refusing to grant him 
any real freedom of judgement or action, or even that territorial 
independence which alone would have enabled him to play the part 
of an umpire and leader: thus making a crusade or a drastic ref- 
ormation of the Church equally impossible. 

From the beginning of Leo X's pontificate, the Turkish peril 
weighed heavily upon his mind. The new sultan, Selim, was of a 
warlike temper. The Polish ambassadors soon reported upon the 
danger which their country was in, and the pope was moved to 
tears and sobs. And now, throughout the remainder of his pontifi- 
cate, the thought of a crusade remained uppermost in his mind, and 
whenever the international situation seemed to clear up, he reverted 



46 THE CATHOLIC REFORMATION 

to it. As early as 1513, money and encouragements were sent to 
Poland, Hungary, and Rhodes. In 1516, the French king, Francis I, 
was appealed to. In the autumn of 1517, a congregation of the 
Crusade was formed, with representatives of most European powers; 
every aspect of the campaign was fully discussed, from its finances 
to its tactics. In March, 1518, the Crusade was preached in Rome, 
amidst great religious festivities. 

Unfortunately, despite the sending of legates, the various princes 
of Christendom displayed no eagerness to follow the pope's lead. 
Venice might have put at his disposal the most powerful fleet in 
Europe, but she had a treaty with the sultan which safeguarded her 
trade, and kept him informed of all papal preparations. Henry VIII, 
then the ally of Spam, thought that Leo X would be better employed 
in siding with him against France. The French king was equally 
lukewarm. As for the Emperor, he was unwilling to grant the pope 
a free use of the sums collected for the Crusade m Germany, part 
of which he hoped to turn to his own purposes. Thus at the very 
moment when the Lutheran outbreak made it more necessary than 
ever to reform the Church, Leo X was compelled, in order to save 
her from complete destruction, to struggle in vain against the na- 
tionalism of every country in Europe. 

This nationalism, or to speak more accurately, this exaltation 
of the State as personified by its sovereign, was just then finding 
expression in Machiavelli's treatise of the Prince. In this work the 
interest of the State was considered as sufficient justification for 
even the most immoral acts, whereas on the contrary, when the 
pope proclaimed the ideal of united Christendom, he appealed to 
a common moral ideal. It may therefore rightly be said that the 
Machiavellian spirit which was in existence long before the 
Italian writer gave it a name was in its essence contrary to that 
of the Catholic Reformation. Besides, it was directly responsible 
for its postponement. 

Each sovereign was seeking his own aggrandizement, and that 
even at the expense of the Church. The Emperor Maximilian had 
not forgotten the dreams of his predecessors in the Middle Ages. 
He still viewed himself as the overlord of Europe and the supreme 
temporal governor of the Church. When his envoy, Cardinal 
Matthaus Lang, came to Rome in 1513, he was followed by a 
retinue of four hundred horsemen, and insisted on taking precedence 



REFORMATION AGAIN DELAYED 47 

of all the other cardinals. The emperor considered himself as en- 
titled to take the reformation of the Curia into his own hands, and 
in no friendly spirit either. He said that "before warring against 
the Infidels he would have to prune God's vineyard." He was 
constantly bringing pressure to bear upon the pope in favour of 
Spam, whose king claimed sovereignty both upon northern and 
southern Italy. The French kings, Louis XII and Francis I, also 
wished to lay their hands upon Milan and Naples as well. Now if 
both the North and the South of the Peninsula were in the same 
hands, there was an end of territorial independence for the Holy 
See, and consequently of spiritual independence also. Leo X himself 
said, in 1515, that he could not suffer "the head and tail of Italy" 
to be in the hands of one and the same prince, even if that prince 
were his own brother. Therefore his efforts were constantly directed 
towards avoiding such a reunion, and the story of his pontificate is 
mostly a tangled tale of intrigue and petty warfare, in which he 
was constantly attempting to play off France against the Empire, 
and sided now with one, now with the other, according to 
circumstances. 

It was indeed much to be regretted that the papacy should have 
to mix in the game of international politics. Its spiritual prestige 
could only stand to lose from the fact that religious and temporal 
issues were constantly being mixed up: examples of this are the 
French secession and the Italian wars in the early days of Leo X's 
pontificate. Later on the emperor was constantly urging the pope 
to use ecclesiastical censures against Francis I, and in fact the 
French general, Thomas de Foix, who had invaded the States of 
the Church, was threatened with excommunication and interdict. 
And yet, though Leo X might take a part in the political fray, 
there is no doubt that from the first and ever after, his aim was to 
be a mediator between all European princes, to establish peace and 
to rescue Christendom from the Turkish invasion. He was already 
pleading for reconciliation through his ambassadors, Campeggio and 
Robert Challand, within a few weeks of his election. That he was 
not unduly engrossed by the thought of external dangers, the events 
which followed hard upon his death were to show. Internal reforma- 
tion could hardly be attempted while the very well-being of the 
Church was at stake. 



48 THE CATHOLIC REFORMATION 

The task that the refined and lovable Medici had been unable 
to perform, was taken in hand firmly by his successor. Adrian VI 
(January 9, 1522 September 14, 1523) was the first pope who 
attempted a root-and-branch reformation; and though he did not 
succeed, he has a particular claim upon our attention. In most 
respects, Leo X and Adrian VI stand at opposite poles. While the 
former was in every respect a southerner, the latter was no less 
typically a northerner. He was a native of the Netherlands, and had 
been educated in a school of the Brothers of the Common Life. 
He imbibed their sober, grave, mystical piety, their evangelical 
spirit, their love of biblical and patristic studies. Yet he was not, 
properly speaking, a Christian humanist. He spent ten years in the 
old-fashioned 'University of Lou vain, where he read in theology, 
philosophy, and canon law. He himself was mediaeval in his tastes, 
and had no love for the Renaissance. On seeing the Laocoon group, 
his only remark was that "here were statues of pagan gods again." 
When on coming from Spam he arrived in Rome, he refused to 
let the townspeople erect a triumphal arch for him; this, he said, 
was too pagan a custom, and one unsuitable for Christians. His 
distrust of classical culture seems to have extended even to Sadolet, 
whose valuable help might have been useful for the work of reform, 
but remained unemployed. 

No wonder, in the circumstances, that Adrian VI should have 
met with all but general opposition among the Italians. As soon 
as his election was known, the satires which were pinned on to 
Pasqumo's statue called him a "Barbarian." Nor was he disliked 
merely on account of his aversion for the Renaissance. The pros- 
perity of Rome was largely linked with those very abuses which he 
had set out to correct. The lavish distribution of papal favours to 
worthy and unworthy suitors alike, attracted crowds both from 
Italy and foreign countries. Trade flourished, money flowed in 
freely. The city had become a nursing-bed for all the fine arts. All 
this seemed threatened. The pope was no longer regarded as a 
benevolent ruler, one who understood the weaknesses of men and 
knew how to play upon them, a clever manager of state affairs; 
but a stern disciplinarian from the North, a slave to absolute prin- 
ciple, who knew nothing of life, and "ought to have remained shut 
up in a monastery." All through his pontificate, and even after his 
death, the mob of Roman poetasters kept baying at him; they called 



REFORMATION AGAIN DELAYED 49 

him an ass, a wolf, a harpy, compared him to Caracalla and Nero. 
In fact, the story of his pontificate is a sad tale of reform undertaken 
in the face of popular hostility, of high ideals struggling with over- 
powering difficulties. 

Nothing else, indeed, was to be expected; for how could a purely 
moral reformation arise from the selfishness of vested interests? 
But among men of real culture and virtue, Adrian VI met with 
ready support. As soon as it was known that the new pope took a 
serious view of Church matters, all the reforming aspirations that 
had been lately gathering strength, came to light, and advice began 
to pour in from every hand. 

When the college of cardinals was first introduced to the pope, 
one of them, Carvajal, addressed him in a set speech, in which he 
outlined his future policy. It would be necessary, he said, to do 
away with simony, ignorance, tyranny, and the other vices which 
disfigured the Church; to appeal to righteous advisers; to keep the 
officials in curb; to honour and promote right-minded cardinals 
and prelates and to take care of the poor; to bring about a truce 
among Christian princes, and gather funds towards a crusade. 

From various parts of Europe, many memoirs were sent in to 
Adrian VI. One had been composed by the Spanish humanist, Luis 
Vives, who had settled down in the Netherlands. He also clamoured 
for peace among Christians, and for a reform of the clergy. This, 
he said, might only be effected by a general council. In another 
writing, Cardinal Schinner, a Swiss, recommended a reform of the 
Curia. The pope was to reduce his household and thereby set an 
example for the cardinals. The selling of cunal offices was to be 
discontinued, and those who held them were to receive no other 
than fixed salaries. Chancery duties were to be reduced to a mini- 
mum, and no other payment was to be exacted. 

The fullest scheme of reform came from Cardinal Campeggio, 
who was a devoted adherent of the Holy See, and began with an 
assertion of the supreme power of the papacy. But such power, he 
said, implied duties as well. He advised a remodelling of the system 
of benefices. The holding of plural benefices was to be proscribed, 
and that of benefices in commendam regulated. The appointment of 
foreigners should be avoided in each country, and only honest and 
virtuous candidates should be selected. All rights of patronage should 
be reserved for the Holy See, and all concessions made to princes 



50 THE CATHOLIC REFORMATION 

in that behalf should be deplored. The memoir further showed the 
unwisdom of allowing the Franciscans to dispense "indulgences 
freely, and the necessity of a sounder plan for the jubilee year, 1525. 
Lastly it considered the financial problems with which the papacy 
was faced, and the means of obtaining money hitherto resorted to. 
The creation and sale of new offices, Campeggio thought, should be 
given up, and a voluntary contribution should be obtained from 
Christendom at large. Like the other advisers of Adrian VI, he 
referred to the Turkish peril, which weighed heavily upon men's 
minds. Most memoirs, it should be noted, expressed the wish that 
work on St. Peter's Church should by all means be continued : thus 
showing that the nascent Catholic Reformation was not puritanical, 
and was willing, in regard to art, to walk in the footsteps of Julius 
II and Leo X. 

Adrian VI himself was more indifferent to artistic beauty; but 
he realized from the first that only a strong pope would be able 
to correct abuses, and he struck the right path at once. He had not 
yet left Spam when he ordered that all vacant offices should remain 
at his disposal, and that the cardinals should not be free to sell, 
give away, or promise them to anyone. As soon as he arrived at 
Rome, he issued an edict which forbade the carrying of arms, ex- 
pelled all loose livers from the city, and made it compulsory for 
clerics to be clean shaven, lest they should look like soldiers. In 
his first consistory, on September i, 1522, he addressed the cardinals, 
and made it clear that he wished to carry out a thoroughgoing 
policy. Rome, he said, quoting St. Bernard, was so inured to sin- 
ning that its people did not even notice the evil odour of their lives; 
its corruption had become a byword throughout the whole world. 
He entreated the cardinals to turn out all lewd persons from their 
households, to give up excessive luxury, and to be content with an 
income of 6000 ducats each. Nor was Adrian VI slow in enforcing 
his own advice. All cardinals, except Schinner who was an out- 
standing reformer, had to leave the Vatican, and their retinues were 
forced to comply strictly with the order against carrying arms. 
Cardinal Cibo, a scandalous liver, was denied access to the pope. 

At the beginning of 1523, Adrian VI undertook, much to the dis- 
may of his Roman environment, to rescind all new offices created 
by Leo X, a congregation of six cardinals being appointed to that 
effect. In regard to appointments to benefices, he was equally firm: 



REFORMATION AGAIN DELAYED 51 

all candidates had to satisfy him as to their age, morality, and learn- 
ing, and he dealt vigorously with pluralities and simony. From the 
first he had selected his advisers among the reforming party, with 
a preference for northerners; he later realized that he ought to 
conciliate Italian public opinion, and called up to the Vatican Gian 
Pietro Caraflfa and Tommaso Gazzella to help him in his work of 
correction. But as his brief pontificate was drawing towards its close, 
he seems to have lost heart in his struggle against the huge admin- 
istrative machine which he had set out to remodel. 

A religious bureaucracy, Pastor says, is the worst of all bureaucra- 
cies. The pope's difficulties and his concessions began when he 
applied himself to the reform of the datary. Since the treasury was 
empty, it was hardly possible for the Holy See to give up the fees 
for bulls and dispensations; and Adrian VI had to be content with 
lowering the latter as much as possible. In March, 1523, in order to 
finance the Crusade, he reverted to the practice of his predecessors, 
when hard pressed for money, and resumed the sale of offices and 
dignities. 

Meanwhile the attention of Adrian VI had been engaged by the 
condition of things in Germany, where the Lutheran movement was 
rapidly spreading. As early as November 25, 1522, the nuncio, Chie- 
regati, appeared before the Diet gathered at Nuremberg, in order 
to explain to the assembly the reforming intentions of the pope. 
"You will promise," the latter said in his instructions, "that we shall 
apply ourselves with all our strength to the amendment, first of the 
Roman Curia, from which maybe all the evil has sprung; and so too 
the healing, like the disease, will come thence." Unfortunately, 
Adrian VI found 'no response among the German bishops, who 
lacked the necessary energy. Rather than firmly oppose the Lutheran 
movement which threatened their very lives, through controversy 
and internal reform, they pursued the suicidal policy of letting things 
shape their own course and forgetting the imminent danger amidst 
feasts and dances. The pope's eyes were fully opened when Johann 
Eck, the famous Catholic reformer, arrived in Rome early in 1523. 
He made clear to Adrian VI that the decrees of the Lateran Council 
had not been observed by the German clergy, and that a new gather- 
ing of the whole Church was necessary. He further made sugges- 
tions for the correction of abuses: papal visitors with full powers 
should he sent to every country; the holding of provincial and dioc- 



52 THE CATHOLIC REFORMATION 

esan synods should be resumed; the number of pensions and ex- 
pectancies should be reduced; no benefices should thenceforth be 
granted in commendam. 

Here again, Adrian VI was prevented by his untimely death 
from carrying out his plans. But in any case, one wonders whether 
he would have been successful. We are apt to be given the curious 
impression that he was both ahead of his own times and lagging 
behind them. Roman society was not ready for the Catholic Refor- 
mation. It had not been chastened by suffering. The German revolt 
was only beginning, and the sack was a thing of the future. Besides, 
the people of Rome greeted with ill-humour a pontificate which they 
considered as a descent of the barbarian North upon Italy. In a 
famous satire, Berni reviled Adrian VI, while the latter vainly strove 
to stop the writing of pasquinades by means of heavy penalties. Nor 
was the movement of opposition wholly unjustified. The Italians, 
however pious, were conscious of the intellectual and artistic en- 
richment which had accrued to them through the Renaissance; 
while the pope, on the other hand, fell into the same mistake as 
Savonarola, viewing the fine arts and classical literature as so much 
needless and even harmful luxury. Before the Catholic Reformation 
could mature, it was indeed necessary that the easy attitude of the 
age of Leo X should give place to a more militant and bracing at- 
mosphere; but it was no less necessary that the value of classical 
antiquity, even for the Church, should be recognized. 

Proh dolor, quantum refert in quae tern for a vcl optimi cujusque 
virtus incidat! "Woe! how even a most righteous man's power to act 
depends on the times in which he happens to live!" This epitaph 
on the grave of Adrian VI is even truer if applied to his successor, 
Clement VII. He was a well-meaning and virtuous pope. But his 
good intentions were frustrated from the first by a succession of 
calamities which make his pontificate the darkest period in the 
history of Christendom. Within the space of a few months, the 
national Lutheran Church was founded in Germany; the Hungar- 
ians were beaten at Mohacs by the Turks, who entered Buda-Pesth 
on September 10, 1526; and Rome was sacked by the imperial armies 
(May 6, 1527). 

But the saddest feature about those sad events was that they were 
to be put down to one and the same cause: the utter selfishness of 
Christian princes, and the predominance of State over spiritual in- 



REFORMATION AGAIN DELAYED 53 

terests. We are here faced with a general European movement of 
national self-assertion. The custom had grown among sovereigns to 
view the religious power of the papacy merely as a means towards 
the attainment of purely temporal ends. The pope might be made 
to confirm territorial conquests, to prevail upon the clergy to part 
with their income for the benefit of royal exchequers, or to confer 
ecclesiastical promotion upon royal favourites. If he complied with 
the wishes of one prince, he became tied to him and incurred the 
enmity of all others; if he refused to obey, he was first emphatically 
reminded of the innumerable benefits that had been showered upon 
him, and which were so many titles to his favour; then he was 
threatened with a national schism, and lastly with an appeal to that 
general council which all Europe was eagerly awaiting. Thus the 
assembly of the Church, from which everyone was expecting the 
correction of abuses, was turned into a club for the use of kings; it 
might, they suggested, remember the tradition of Basle and Con- 
stance, and depose a recalcitrant pope. The religious ideals of the 
age and the very hope of a Catholic reformation were made to sub- 
serve the political schemes of princes, and thus lost much of their 
spiritual efficiency. 

The process of alternate cajoling and intimidation outlined above 
was that which Henry VIII of England made use of, in the years 
1527 to 1534, in order to induce Clement VII to annul his marriage 
with Katharine of Aragon. But it would be a great mistake to think 
that he had invented it. Most European sovereigns, about the same 
time, were now flattering, now bullying the pope in order to enlist 
his support towards their own personal ends. The French wished 
to retain Milan, which the emperor also demanded; and when 
Adrian VI, in 1523, became reconciled with Charles V, and pro- 
claimed a truce in Italy, Francis I wrote to the pope a long letter of 
recrimination. He reminded him of the services rendered by all the 
French kings to the Apostolic See. Those who ought to have been 
grateful for such services were now preventing France from availing 
herself of her rights upon Milan. The pope ought to have justice 
and equity before his eyes, to think of the salvation of souls, of his 
own honour, of his approaching end. Should Adrian VI seek to 
enforce a truce through ecclesiastical censures, he might fear the fate 
of Boniface VIII, who had tried the same sort of thing with Philip 
the Fair of France and had had to suffer for it. The pope would do 



54 THE CATHOLIC REFORMATION 

no more than his duty if he granted to Francis I, as he did to his 
enemies, subsidies out of the revenues of the clergy. These threats 
succeeded in terrifying the pope, who was afraid lest the French 
king should favour Luther's heresy and establish an independent 
Gallican Church. In fact, the sending of moneys to Rome was for- 
bidden in France shortly after. 

The reverse happened in 1525, when Clement VII sided with the 
French in order to prevent the Emperor from seizing the kingdom 
of Naples. Charles V then exclaimed "that Martin Luther might, 
now or later, be a valuable man/' One year after, when the pope 
had, for the same motive joined the League of Cognac, which was 
headed by France, the Emperor addressed him in a severely worded 
letter. He insisted on the fact that the pope, being the supreme 
pastor, had no right to unsheathe the sword; that when a cardinal 
he had been shown much favour by the Emperor; that when con- 
spiring against the latter he forfeited his right to be called a pastor 
and a father. Clement VII ought to remember that he drew most of 
his income from the empire. If he persisted in having recourse to 
arms, the Emperor would appeal to a general council that would 
settle all pending differences. 

In fact, the imperialist theories of the Middle Ages had not 
wholly died out. The Fraticelli and Marsilius of Padua, two hun- 
dred years before, had granted to the Emperor wide spiritual powers, 
with a right to call up general councils. Charles V still considered 
himself to a large extent responsible for the spiritual welfare of the 
Church, and entitled to take the work of reform into his own hands. 
Before the expedition against Rome, the extent of his duty towards 
the pope was freely discussed; and it was considered a moot ques- 
tion whether he ought to submit to ecclesiastical censures. The other 
European princes, just as they aspired to the imperial dignity, also 
shared the pretensions of the Emperor in regard to ecclesiastical 
matters. Wolsey was trying to make England the hub of the Chris- 
tian world. When Clement VII was imprisoned by the Emperor 
after the sack of Rome, the cardinal assumed quasi-papal powers, 
took the whole of Church administration for France and England 
into his own hands, and called up a gathering of the Sacred College 
at Avignon. These attempts to rob the papacy of the government of 
the Church were similar in character in all European countries; they 
ended in schism in Scandinavia, Germany, and England, and might 



REFORMATION AGAIN DELAYED 55 

well have done so elsewhere. They made it practically impossible 
for the Holy See to proceed with the work of reform. 

And yet Clement VII did his best, even during the distressful 
years 1523 to 1528, to make the Catholic Reformation possible. He 
was himself a Christian humanist, and immediately took Christian 
humanists, such as Giberti and Sadolet, into his service. He had a 
sincere wish to maintain peace between the Powers. Whenever he 
found himself able to do so he reverted to the policy ot papal neu- 
trality, and even succeeded in effecting a short-lived reconciliation 
between Charles V and Francis I in 1533. Unfortunately, as Bishop 
Stephen Gardiner said, he was of a weak and wavering temper, 
animi semper incertus fluctuabat; he gave the impression that he 
was irresolute even more than peace-loving. He was indeed a true 
Christian, but he did not take the ample view of the situation which 
was then necessary; he behaved like a man who, m a huge con- 
flagration, would only be anxious to save some trifling item of his 
possessions. He was rightly desirous to preserve the independence 
of the States of the Church; but his wish to recapture Ravenna and 
Cervia, which Venice had taken, assumed in his eyes an inordinate 
importance and governed his external policy for many years. In 
1530, Clement VII induced the emperor to lay siege to Florence in 
order to restore the power of the Medici in the city. The fall of the 
town, he wrote on June 3, would enable the Emperor to turn his 
attention to the Lutheran heresy and to the Turkish peril! 

No dwelling on the rights and privileges, however legitimate, of 
the Holy See, could save the Church from impending disruption 
and ruin. It would have been necessary to proclaim in a ringing 
voice a spiritual ideal that would have carried away the whole of 
Christendom. Unfortunately Clement VII did not seek salvation 
outside and above the ordinary game of international politics. His 
attempts to play off the powers against each other eventually in- 
volved him in the most terrible calamities. When he had joined the 
League of Cognac, Charles V, wishing to be revenged upon him, 
entrusted Ugo de Moncada with the task of raising a rebellion in 
Italy. The pope had made an alliance with the powerful Roman 
family of the Orsini. Moncada joined hands with their enemies, the 
chief of whom was Cardinal Colonna. The latter gathered an army 
of five thousand men, bore down upon Rome, and entered the city 
by ruse on September 20, 1526, while Clement VII was taking flight 



56 THE CATHOLIC REFORMATION 

to Castel St. Angelo. The soldiers plundered the Vatican, stole the 
relics, the crosses, the sacred vessels and vestments, even the precious 
ornaments on St. Peter's altar; "the artillery drivers," a German 
diarist says, "rode along in the purple robes of the Holy Pontiff, and 
others, having put on his hat on their heads as a sign of contempt, 
gave benediction. . . ." 

The worst, however, had yet to come. On May 6, 1527, Rome was 
taken by storm by the imperial armies, which had been largely 
recruited among the German Lutherans, but included Catholic 
Spaniards as well. The sack of the city lasted for one whole month. 
Twenty thousand mercenaries, together with the riff-raff of army 
followers, went roaming about the city looking for gold and silver. 
They set fire to the houses, tortured the inhabitants, raped and 
slaughtered women before the eyes of their husbands, girls before 
the eyes of their fathers. Some of the townspeople were shut up and 
starved to death. A Bavarian captain dressed up as the pope and 
held out his foot to kiss to his lansquenets, or gave benediction with 
a glass of wine, as a signal for general sousing. After clothing ,1 
donkey as a bishop, some soldiers tried to compel a priest to incense 
the animal and give him Communion. As he refused to do so he 
was cut to pieces. Innumerable works of art were destroyed; tombs 
were opened and searched; nuns were sold on public squares for a 
couple of ducats. 

Never had Christianity fallen so low. Never, it seemed, would the 
Church flourish again. And yet, forces had been slowly gathering 
which now, braced up by suffering, were to make it young again. In 
the very hour of its direst distress, the tide was turning, and the 
Catholic Reformation was at hand. 

BIBLIOGRAPHY 

This chapter is very largely based on Vols. VII and VIII of Pastor's 
History of the Popes, and the works quoted by him. On the Renais- 
sance view of government, as against that of the Catholic Reformation, 
refer to Machiavelli's Principe and to his Deche, or commentary upon 
Livius' Decades (numerous ed.). Luis Vives' address to Adrian VI, urg- 
ing him to call up a council, is entitled De Europae statu ac tumultibus 
and published in loannis Lodovici Vivis Valentim declamationes sex 
(Basileae, s.d.), the whole volume being of interest on the state of 
Christendom shortly before the sack of Rome. Also refer on the same 
subject to P. Janelle, op. cit. On Christian literature at the same period, 
see the poems of Vida, Marci Hieronymi Vidae Cremonensis Albae 



REFORMATION AGAIN DELAYED 57 

episcopi poemata omnia . . . (Cremonae 1550), containing the Christias 
and the ode to Giberti, and the excellent article on Vida in Biographic 
unwerselle (Michaud); also Actti Synceri Sannazarii de partu Virginis 
hbri tres, Lamentatio de morte Chnsti . , . (Parisiis: Ex officina Roberti 
Stepham, 1527). On the religious assemblies in Germany, see Pallavicino 
(Sforza) Istona del Concilia di Trento, 3 vols. (Roma, 1664). 



CHAPTER IV 



Preparing for Trent 



THE Sack of Rome sharply divided one period from another: 
it put a sudden end to the golden sunset of the Italian Renais- 
sance, and introduced a period of stress and strain which was 
to be that of the Catholic Reformation. The latter had been pre- 
pared for by the Christian humanists, and was gaining ground even 
before 1527; but its necessity had not yet been brought home to the 
papal court and to the Italian population at large. Such a dreadful 
calamity as the Sack was needed to shake them out of their com- 
fortable ease. A new religious earnestness spread to all classes. Many 
men and women of the nobility retired to monasteries in order to 
bewail their past transgressions. At the meeting of the Council of 
the Rota, on May 15, 1528, Bishop Stafileo described the sufferings 
of the capital of the world as a visitation for her sins. She had been 
struck, he said, "because all flesh had given itself up to corruption, 
because we no longer are the inhabitants of the holy city of Rome, 
but of the perverted city of Babylon." He and others, however, could 
see a new hope dawning ahead. "If we satisfy God's wrath and 
justice," Sadolet wrote to Clement VII, "if those terrible punish- 
ments open the way for purer manners and juster laws, perchance 
our misfortune will not have been so great." 

Some years were still to elapse, however, before the Catholic 
Reformation was in full swing. Many reasons account for this delay. 
The chief agent in the correction of abuses could be no other than 
a general council. It had been in men's minds for many years, and 
especially since the outbreak of Luther anism. It was appealed to on 
every possible occasion, by sincere reformers, by heretics, by self- 
seeking sovereigns. Though most people disagreed as to its desired 
composition, location, and syllabus, its authority was as a rule un- 

58 



PREPARING FOR TRENT 59 

disputed. Its very name was one of those which, though their mean- 
ing be hazy, and perhaps even because their meaning is but dimly 
grasped, rouse the enthusiasm and hopes of a whole generation. 

Now before a general council could be held, many difficulties, 
mostly of the political order, had first to be cleared away. The 
mutual jealousy of the chief European princes stood in the way of 
any great international undertaking. Each one of them objected to 
the holding of the council in the dominions, and consequently un- 
der the influence, of his enemies. Each one of them made the hold- 
ing of the council dependent upon satisfaction, to be obtained 
by the pope, regarding his own political claims. The dispute between 
the Emperor and France over the possession of Milan was the cause 
of years of delay. The prelates could hardly be gathered during a 
war; hence the establishment of peace was necessary. To that end, 
the pope himself must keep out of the wrangle, but take up the 
superior position of a disinterested umpire. Lastly, the Lutheran 
revolt in Germany had given rise to further problems. The Emperor 
needed the help of his Protestant subjects to fight the Turks and 
was unwilling to irritate them. At first he hoped that a general 
council would placate them and bring them back to the Fold, but 
later, finding that they refused to have anything to do with the 
Holy See, he resorted to direct negotiations with them in political 
assemblies, in which religious matters were the object of mutual 
give-and-take. The very high idea he had of his own power and 
function induced him to try to settle the religious difficulties by his 
own means and apart from the pope. Therefore after first agreeing 
to the council, he who was the mightiest sovereign in Europe kept 
putting it off for many years. 

To overcome all these obstacles, as well as the resistance of the 
Roman bureaucracy, a strong hand was needed. Unfortunately 
Clement VII was ill-suited for such a task. He was a serious and 
well-meaning pope, neither lax nor wanting in dignity; yet he was 
a man of the past. He still belonged to the political age, and looked 
for salvation to the old policy of balance, to prattiche, to close dip- 
lomatic fencing now with one, now with the other party in the 
European struggle. He did not realize that the papacy now had to 
play quite another part, that it ought boldly to assert its spiritual 
authority. His attitude towards Henry VIII is typical in this respect. 
About his opinion on the divorce matter there can be no doubt; nor 



60 THE CATHOLIC REFORMATION 

did he give in to the threats and blandishments of the English king. 
Yet he failed to understand that by making, at the very outset, an 
open declaration of right and wrong, he would have earned the 
English people along with him, and won the day for the English 
Church. He preferred an attitude of diplomatic shilly-shallying, 
which deprived him of all his advantages and allowed him to be 
fooled by his adversary. The same happened m the case of the 
council: instead of attacking the obstacles in a spirited way, he 
stood weighing difficulties, and was at best but lukewarm. 

It should be owned that there was, for the pope and the Roman 
court, no lack of justifiable reasons why the council should be put 
off. The memory of the assemblies at Basle and Constance was still 
alive in men's minds. The attempt to establish democracy m the 
Church might still be renewed at the expense of that very papal 
power which was needed more than ever for the correction of 
abuses. The mere announcement of the council had brought about 
a fall in the price of venal offices in the Curia. Who knew but that 
the financial position of the Holy See might be seriously threatened? 

Besides, the attitude of temporal sovereigns might well give rise 
to concern. In the past, they had so repeatedly clamoured for a gen- 
eral council whenever they thought themselves wronged by the 
pope, that one might be forgiven for viewing it as a means of dis- 
possessing the papacy of its authority for the benefit of princes. This 
was true even of Charles V. It was now clear that they had been 
insincere, and that they did not in the least wish for a general as- 
sembly of the Church, in which their privileges might be curtailed. 
Their latter attitude, however, was no less dangerous than the 
former; for Henry VIII and Francis I threatened schism if any 
attempt were made to compel their attendance. Lastly, the Protes- 
tants insisted that their ministers should be admitted on equal 
terms; but if the Holy See had granted such a request, it would 
have granted thereby that the Lutheran revolt was legitimate. All 
these obstacles were so formidable that more than common faith in 
the likely benefits of the council was needed; but Clement VII had 
more of worldly prudence than foresight or enterprise. 

Nor were the circumstances otherwise as favourable as they might 
have been for a Catholic reformation to be effected either by the 
pope himself or by a council. For one thing, it is easy to issue re- 
forming decrees, but they are not worth the paper they are written 



PREPARING FOR TRENT 61 

on if the will to enforce them be lacking. In other words, it was not 
enough to .forbid the continuation of abuses; for the administrative 
personnel of the Church which derived profit from them could 
easily nullify any such prohibition. It was necessary that the said 
personnel should be gradually renewed, so that it might give up of 
its own accord advantages which the older generation were unwill- 
ing to relinquish. Hence the slow progress of the reforming 
movement, and the futility of the Lateran regulations. The seed 
that was sown by the Christian humanists of 1510 was to take thirty 
years to ripen into fruit; long enough, that is, for people inspired 
with the new spirit to reach positions of authority in the Church. 
Between 1517 and the first session of the Council of Trent, the 
Catholic Reformation, like a rising tide, slowly submerged the col- 
lege of cardinals and higher offices in the Curia, until it could be 
withstood no longer. 

This tide was already fairly high in the days of Clement VII, 
though the cardinals he created were "no saints," as the Venetian 
ambassador described them, "but lords, true and worthy gentlemen." 
The pope did m fact give some satisfaction to the general wish of a 
council. He was sincerely desirous to effect a reconciliation between 
Francis I and Charles V. He urged both sovereigns to agree to the 
council. The latter was the main theme of the conversations held at 
Bologna between Clement VII and the Emperor in December, 1^2, 
January and February, 1533. In the consistories of December 16 and 
20, 1532, the various means of restoring unity and discipline in the 
Church were discussed. It was suggested that recourse might be had 
to arms against the Lutherans, but the proposal was rejected. The 
majority of the cardinals advised a council; and it was finally agreed 
that it should not be a national assembly to be held in Germany 
for then Henry VIII and Francis I would have declared that it was 
under imperial influence and would have rushed into schism but 
a general gathering of the whole of Christendom, to be called in a 
suitable place, after all the Christian princes had given their assent. 
The decision was an important one, though its effect was to be 
suspended for twelve years. It would now have been impossible to 
go back upon it. Pursuant to the vote of the cardinals, the Emperor's 
agreement was first sought and obtained, and then briefs were sent 
to the kings of France and England, and to the other Christian 
princes, including the imperial electors. 



62 THE CATHOLIC REFORMATION 

No sooner had this step been taken, however, than further difficul- 
ties began to arise. The Emperor, in order to quiet the Lutherans, 
wished for immediate action, contrary to his later policy. The pope 
preferred to wait for the universal agreement of the sovereigns. That 
this might be obtained, nuncios were sent, in February, 1533, to 
Germany, France, and England. But the Lutherans refused to bind 
themselves to compliance with the decrees of the council, while 
Francis I and Henry VIII returned dilatory answers. 

Meanwhile, the king of France held out hopes to the pope, 
through his ambassadors, of easing the difficulties between England 
and the Holy See, if the latter sided with the French against the 
emperor. The pope, who feared Charles V's power in Italy, agreed 
to an interview with Francis I at Marseilles, which took place in 
October and November, 1533. In his conversations with Francis I, 
he did try to bring about a reconciliation between him and the em- 
peror, and pressed the matter of the council; but as the French king 
obstinately advised delay, the weak-willed pope gave in to his 
reasons and let the matter drop. In March, 1534, he wrote to Charles 
V's brother, Ferdinand, king of the Romans, declaring that he 
meant to put off the council to better and less troublous times. In 
such circumstances, the great historian of the papacy, Ludwig von 
Pastor, considers it a piece of good fortune for the Church that 
Clement VIFs pontificate should not have lasted much longer. The 
pontiff died September 25, 1534, leaving Christendom in a more 
critical position than it had perhaps ever been. 

And yet, while the pope's adherence to the political traditions of 
the past, and his waverings compromised what hopes might be left 
of preserving the unity of the Church, the reforming movement was 
gaining strength, both inside the Curia and out of it. "Reformation," 
like "the council," had become one of those words which, m a given 
generation, will not bear discussion. Such was the very spirit of the 
age. Already before the Sack, Clement VII himself had attempted 
to correct abuses. He advanced the question of the reform of the 
Curia in the consistory of January 18, 1524, and a commission of 
cardinals was appointed to that end. On September 9, in view of 
the coming jubilee of 1525, the pope suggested that a visitation of 
the Roman clergy should take place; that all Roman secular clerics 
should undergo an examination, and that those who failed in it 
should be forbidden to say Mass; that good confessors should be 



PREPARING FOR TRENT 63 

sought for the holy year. In fact, the visitation was carried out, and 
though many worldly prelates grumbled, they had to submit to it. 
It is significant that Sadolet, together with Giberti, the reforming 
bishop of Verona, should have supported with all their might the 
efforts of Clement VII. 

The pope also issued directions against simony and in some cases 
declared against pluralities. A number of papal decrees of 1524 pro- 
vided for reformation, not merely in the Italian dioceses of Florence, 
Parma, Naples, Venice, and Milan, but also in those of Burgos and 
Mayence, and in the Carmelite Order at large, the same being done 
in 1525 for the Humiliati. Unfortunately the conflict between the 
Emperor and the Holy See in 1526 and 1527 interrupted all activities 
of the kind for the space of several years. They were resumed in 
1529 and 1530, and many ordinances were issued. Some purposed 
the reformation of the secular clergy in various towns (Padua, 
Trevisa, Parma) but most of them referred to religious orders in 
Italy and out of Italy, even as far away as Poland. The same policy 
was continued until the end of Clement VIFs pontificate, particular 
decrees dealing with individual cases. For the year 1532, no fewer 
than twenty-three such decrees, mostly bearing on the reform of 
regulars, especially of the orders of friars, are extant in the papal 
registers. This was a heartening symptom: unfortunately it was not 
enough to cope with the situation. The pope was but nibbling at the 
abuses: these had spread so far that little could be done without 
general legislation of a more drastic character. 

While Rome still shirked the mam issue, and was slow in taking 
the lead, individual reforming movements were springing up 
everywhere; thus heaping up fuel which the spark of the Council 
of Trent was to set afire in one mighty blaze. Much of that work 
was done in the field of the regular life, either -through the reforma- 
tion of orders already extant, or through the foundation of new ones. 
Older forms of monastic discipline were re-enforced with greater 
severity, or new institutions and a new spirit were resorted to in 
order to cope with the difficulties of the hour. This side of the early 
Catholic Reformation will be dealt with at large in one of the 
following chapters; but something must be said here of the work 
done in the secular field, and especially of that accomplished by 
Gian Matteo Giberti, bishop of Verona (1495-1543). 

Giberti the fact is worthy of note had spent his youth at the 



64 THE CATHOLIC REFORMATION 

court of Leo X and been a prominent figure among the Roman 
humanists. Vida was his faithful friend, and wrote a fine ode on his 
ordination. Clement VII made him his datary, that is, in fact, his 
chief secretary, and in 1524 appointed him to the bishopric of 
Verona. He was then a member of the "Oratory of Divine Love" 
and consorted much with the Theatines, whose founder, Caraffa, was 
on terms of great intimacy with him. The Sack had the same effect 
upon him as upon many others, and in 1528 he sought permission 
to reside in his diocese, the condition of which might well give 
reason for concern. Many priests were living out of their parishes 
and were replaced by unworthy deputies. Some of them were so 
ignorant that Giberti had to get the Latin rubrics of the Missal 
translated into Italian for them. In many places, preaching had been 
given up, confessions were slack, and the churches looked like 
cattle-sheds. 

Giberti began reformation at home, and the amiable and temperate 
humanist he had been turned to a pattern of austerity and asceticism. 
He resigned most of his benefices and resolved to undertake m his 
own person the correction of abuses. In January, 1529, he began the 
visitation of his whole diocese, no easy task apparently, since once he 
was nearly drowned in a swollen torrent. He went from parish to 
parish, found out about the life of the clergy and the state of the 
churches, got into talk with the lowliest, and composed differences 
among them. He compelled the priests to reside in their parishes 
and to lead spotless lives; while in addition he prevailed upon Rome 
to withdraw the benefices with cure of souls which had been 
granted to non-residents. He used compulsion whenever necessary, 
and had recourse to excommunication and public penance. As 
early as November, 1528, "the dungeons were full of concubmary 
priests." It is particularly striking that he should have striven to 
restore the vitality of parish life, the dignity and beauty o^ worship, 
to have discouraged attendance at Mass in chapels and private ora- 
tories, and freed the parish clergy from the encroachments of reg- 
ulars. He gave great attention to the moral worth of confessors, and 
is said to have established confessionals in their present form. 

Preaching was of paramount importance as a weapon against 
Lutheranism, which Giberti had severely condemned in 1530. He 
insisted that the people should be addressed "with charity and sim- 
plicity of heart," without unnecessary quotations from the poets or 



PREPARING FOR TRENT 65 

theological subtleties. Licence to preach was to be granted by the 
bishop. Catechism classes were founded for the children. Giberti 
obtained full powers from Clement VII for the reformation of reli- 
gious orders within his diocese, and went about it with a strong 
hand. He firmly repressed the abuse of indulgences and collections. 
As might be expected, he ran up against violent opposition on the 
part of wealthy families, whose influence was supreme in some 
monasteries of women, and on the part of his cathedral chapter, 
who pleaded exemption and held their own for several years. His 
social activity was great. He founded orphanages and Sunday- 
schools, houses of refuge for poor innocent girls or for those who 
had lapsed, popular banks to rescue the people from usurers, and an 
association (the Societas pauperum) for the relief of the poor a 
prefiguration of the later Society of St. Vincent de Paul. Lastly, it 
should not be forgotten that in his palace at Verona, Giberti wel- 
comed many of those humanists whom the Sack had scattered 
through Italy. He induced them to apply their gifts to the work of 
reformation, to the writing of religious poetry, to the translation of 
the Greek Fathers. He had a private press with Greek type. In a 
word, all that was later to be essential in the work of the Council 
of Trent was already extant in his diocese, before the death of 
Clement VII; and, in fact, many of his enactments were embodied 
word for word m the Trentine decrees. Many bishops followed his 
example, and St. Charles Borromeo did his best to imitate it. The 
seed was sown, and was soon to fructify. 



Whatever Clement VII's failings, he did the Church exceptional 
service by recommending a man of strong character and serious 
intent, Cardinal Alessandro Farnese, as his successor. The Sacred 
College followed his advice; they were by now firmly convinced 
that only an out-and-out reformer could deal with the situation; 
and Paul III (1468-1549) was elected within the space of a few 
hours. He provided in his own person an instance, both of the cul- 
ture and moral laxity of the Renaissance period, and of the remorse 
for the Renaissance brought about by Christian humanism. He had 
been educated at Rome, where he was in touch with the neo-pagan 
philosopher, Pomponius Laetus; at Florence, in the house of Lor- 
enzo di Medici; and at the University of Pisa. Under Alexander VI 



66 THE CATHOLIC REFORMATION 

he was promoted to many benefices and dignities and was made a 
cardinal-deacon in 1493. For some years, his life was most irregular; 
he had four children (though it should be mentioned that he was 
not yet in priest's orders) the eldest being the famous Pier Luigi 
Farnese. 

He was soon, however, to turn to more serious thoughts; and it is 
significant that this should have taken place at the height of Chris- 
tian humanism, shortly before the Lateran Council, in which he took 
a prominent part. In order to enforce the decrees there issued, he 
undertook a visitation of his diocese of Parma in the year of 1516, 
and gathered a diocesan synod in 1519. Nonetheless he took part in 
the brilliant life of the court of Leo X, and gave ample proof of his 
administrative abilities. His election was greeted by universal ap- 
plause. The hopes placed in him as a reformer were shown at a 
procession of the Roman corporations and nobility, which took place 
on November 29, 1534. Triumphal arches had been raised, but now 
beside the figure of Rome there appeared on them those of the 
Church and of Faith. Sadolet saluted the new pope with a long 
letter of praise, in which he thanked God for entrusting the helm of 
Christendom to such a wise and excellent pilot. All those who 
wished for the council hailed the advent of a pontiff who was 
known to have declared in its favour. 

All the ability and energy of Paul III were indeed needed to cope 
with the dangers which threatened the Church on every hand. We 
know from the words of a contemporary Catholic reformer what 
feelings the situation of Christendom gave rise to in 1534: "I could 
see in my mind," Giovan Battista Caccia writes, "the supreme em- 
peror of Asia (the sultan) the enemy of Christ, lifted above the 
heads of the Christian people; I beheld the German secession; I 
recalled to memory that my holy mother the Church, before the 
black and Tartarean fog of Mahomet had blinded Asia and Africa, 
had embraced within her most holy bosom the whole of humankind, 
and that now she was forced back within that narrow space of 
Europe, torn about by various opinions, and so disfigured by the 
cutting off and breaking of her joints, that she seems to be rushing 
to her utter ruin." 

In fact, while the pontificate of Paul III offers in certain respects 
a peaceful and even reassuring appearance, the dangers which beset 
Christendom on every hand were greater than they had ever been 



PREPARING FOR TRENT 67 

previously. Despite the capture of Tunis by the Emperor in 1535, the 
Turks were constantly making headway in the Archipelago and on 
the shores of the Adriatic, and threatening Italy and Rome herself. 
In July, 1536, they landed in the Peninsula, near Otranto, and began 
raiding the country and carrying away many inhabitants as slaves. 
A European league against them was formed, including Venice; 
but the Emperor and the king of France were so jealous of each 
other that the operations were delayed. When at last, in September, 
1538, Andrea Dona with a fleet attempted the relief of Corfu, he 
was shamefully routed at Prevesa. On August 26, 1541, the sultan 
took Ofen (Buda), the capital of Hungary, and extended his do- 
minions right up to the Danube. When finally an imperial mixed 
force of Catholics and Protestants came to the rescue in September, 
1524, it was so lacking in unity and discipline that it had to 
retreat without having done its work. 

In fact, the period was bound to be one of disorder until a clear 
perception of intellectual issues had enabled men to take sides in the 
religious conflict. However sad the loss of unity, this loss must now 
be preferred to the confusion of ideas which had hitherto prevailed, 
and which was all to the advantage of the disruptive forces. As long 
as the council had not spoken with authority, people groped their 
way along, or swarmed about in ill-defined groups, according to 
vague tendencies. They scarcely realized that the assumption of ab- 
solute jurisdiction over the Church by national sovereigns was tan- 
tamount to schism, and that owing to the Protestant agitation, such 
schism was a short cut to heresy. The whole of Europe was allowed 
to drift into secession, and even well-meant attempts at reunion 
between a weakly defended orthodoxy and an aggressive hetero- 
doxy tended to blur the distinction between true and false. Hence the 
period of the greatest Turkish peril was also that of the greatest 
Protestant advance. 

It is not certain that the town of Perugia, which revolted against 
the pope rather than pay heavy taxes, sought Lutheran support; yet, 
what happened there in the year i^o provides a striking instance 
of the confused influences which tended to bring about the breaking 
up of the Church. The rebellion soon assumed the same character 
as that of Florence under Savonarola. The chancellor publicly asked 
for the help of the Saviour, to whom he offered the keys of the 
city; coins were minted with the inscription: "Perugia, the city of 



68 THE CATHOLIC REFORMATION 

Christ." The treasures of churches were seized; and order was only 
restored after a regular siege. 

One sees how evangelical phraseology was then naturally resorted 
to. Protestantism was a rallying-pomt for all revolutionary agitators. 
In Venice, its swift progress was due to another reason : the city had 
long been jealous of its ecclesiastical independence. An event which 
took place in 1542 was even more painful for the Catholic-minded 
than the sporadic spread of Lutheramsm in Italy. Bernardino 
Ochmo, the most famous preacher of his time, renowned for his 
spiritual gifts, had been elected vicar-general of the Capuchins in 
1536, and was very nearly made a cardinal in 1538. But at the same 
time he was imbibing Protestant doctrine, and soon sought refuge 
with Calvin at Geneva, together with the Augustiman monk, Pietro 
Martyr Vermigh. For some years he had been hovering between 
orthodoxy and heresy. The need for a clear statement of the Cath- 
olic position was becoming more pressing than ever. 

Both for the purposes of definition and reformation, therefore, 
the council was urgently needed. But its gathering could not be 
immediate. The action of the papacy was needed, both to call it up, 
and to solve the numerous problems that were involved in its prep- 
aration. The pope alone could provide the necessary driving force, 
and first of all in the field of international politics, in which, from 
1536 to 1545, he had to struggle against the divergent efforts of the 
various sovereigns. The selfish and short-sighted view which they 
took of their national interests was in every case responsible for the 
delay of the council, and no one among them can be exculpated from 
guilt in this respect. 

Henry VIII, needless to say, would hear nothing of a Church as- 
sembly in which his matrimonial conduct and his assumption of ec- 
clesiastical supremacy might be condemned. But as he was a valuable 
ally for either of the two chief continental powers, he was able to 
make his help to either of them conditional upon their rejection of 
the council. As a matter of fact, up to about 1540, Francis I was in 
league with him, as well as with the Turks and the German Protes- 
tants, to whom the very name of a papal council was hateful. A 
Galhcan schism might be feared, and Charles V denounced the dis- 
loyalty of the "most Christian king" towards the Holy See. But the 
situation was soon to be reversed. Despite his professed champion- 
ship of the papacy, Charles V did not scruple to enter into close 



PREPARING FOR TRENT 69 

confederacy with Henry VIII. As a matter of fact, he largely shared 
the latter's notions of the part to be played by a king in religious 
matters. He did not, indeed, make himself "supreme head of the 
German Church," but he did attempt to establish a common rule 
of faith for all his dominions, and kept nudging the pope out of 
assemblies gathered to that effect. Things went so far that, in 1544, 
soon before the Council of Trent assembled, he recalled his ambas- 
sadors from Rome, and the pope had to issue a severe warning to 
him. Ecclesiastical and political questions were inextricably mixed 
up. The tangle of conflicting interests confused the religious issues. 
In 1539, the Catholic princes of Germany, both lay and ecclesiastical, 
in fact sought an agi cement with their Protestant neighbours, 
rather than side with their natural ally, the Emperor, whose power 
they feared might become overwhelming. 

As long as the powers were at variance, the holding of the council 
appeared well-nigh impossible. How were the "fathers" to be 
gathered, if each sovereign was to refuse permission to his bishops 
to attend, unless the pope backed his temporal claims' 5 Peace, it 
seemed, or at least a truce, must first of all be established; and to 
that purpose Paul Ill's efforts vainly tended for several years. Grad- 
ually, however, he found that his attempts were futile, that the 
princes could not be brought to form a common Christian front 
against heresy and the Turk, and that if they were allowed to have 
their own way, the issue would be perpetually shirked. Then he 
began to assert his own will more and more firmly, until at last he 
decided to call up the council on his own authority, without waiting 
for anyone else's consent. This change ot attitude, however, was 
only completed in little under ten years. As early as May 29, 1536, a 
bill of convocation had been approved in consistory, and the council 
convened to Mantua, for May 23, 1537. However, local and inter- 
national difficulties soon made it necessary to prorogue the assembly 
twice in succession, and the place of meeting had to be shifted to 
Vicenza in the territory of Venice. On May 12, 1538, the legates 
appointed for the council made their solemn entry into the town, 
but the "fathers," bishops, and others, who were to make up the 
gathering, failed to appear; and two further prorogations ensued, 
the latter, on May 21, 1539, being sine die. 

In fact, the policy of colloquia between Protestants and Catholics 
had then been inaugurated by the emperor; and Paul III for some 



70 THE CATHOLIC REFORMATION 

time flattered himself with the hope that papal representatives might 
do useful work in such purely German conferences. He soon found 
out, however, that the Lutherans were obdurate, that attempts at 
conciliation only sharpened their aggressive spirit and enabled them 
to extend their influence. We need not enlarge here on the Diet at 
Spires and the religious debate at Ratisbon the nearest approach 
to an understanding between Christian sovereigns for the extension 
of the English plan of Church organization to the whole of Europe. 

Paul III had by now wholly made up his mind to act independ- 
ently. On July 6, 1541, the question of the council was again raised 
in consistory; and on June 6, 1542, the assembly was called up at 
Trent for All Saints' Day in the same year. In the bull of convoca- 
tion, the pope recalled the efforts which he had made up till then, 
and declared that he had resolved to wait no further for the consent 
of any prince, but to consider only the will of Almighty God and 
the weal of Christendom. This manly decision was however frus- 
trated for some time still. On October 28, the legates specially ap- 
pointed left for Trent; but once more no "fathers" were forthcoming, 
owing to the opposition of the princes; and Paul III was com- 
pelled to suspend the council again. War was raging anew between 
Francis I and the Empire, and the problem of Milan was still un- 
solved. Peace, indeed, was made at Crepy-en-Valois on September 17, 
1544; but Charles V was more unwilling than ever to relinquish his 
religious policy; and Paul III once again took things into his own 
hands and called up the council for March 15, 1545. He was deter- 
mined that it should now be held under any circumstances; and in 
fact his energy had won the day. 

* * * 

But a general council could not be extemporized; and in fact it 
could not have been held at all if the long years of waiting had not 
been years of preparation as well. Many problems had to be solved. 
There were no set rules to determine what members were to com- 
pose the assembly, who was to preside over it, what matters it was 
to discuss, or how its decisions should be arrived at. The Councils 
of Basle and Constance, of which the memory was not yet lost, had 
attempted to alter the government of the Church according to 
democratic and nationalist principles. Among their "fathers" were 
members of the lower clergy, of the universities, and even laymen, 
whose votes were of equal value with those of the bishops and 



PREPARING FOR TRENT 71 

abbots, and actually outnumbered them; while the debates were car- 
ried on and concluded within each national group, the final decision 
being taken by a majority, not of individuals, but of "nations." No 
real reform could be effected under such circumstances; and the 
assembly, for lack of an arbiter and head, could only register the 
clash of conflicting interests. Paul III realized that, if the new council 
was to perform its task, it must be presided over and directed by 
himself. In the "congregations" that were preparing its work, it was 
decided that the bishops only should be definitores, that is, entitled 
to settle the points at issue, other ecclesiastics, theologians, and can- 
onists being reduced to the part of consultores or advisers. The coun- 
cil was indeed to be free in its decisions, but its debates were to be 
prepared by the pope and committees of cardinals and curial officials. 
Learned specialists would sit together and draft articles to be ap- 
proved by the pope, and sent to the assembly for discussion. In fact, 
while it lasted, Rome was enabled, if not to direct its proceedings, 
at any rate to guide them, and make her voice heard whenever nec- 
essary, both through the papal legates and through an almost daily 
correspondence. Hence there was, between the "teaching Church" 
and the Holy See, a close co-operation which the princes did not 
interfere with, for they were out of humour with the whole under- 
taking and kept sulking. The authority of the pope was left undis- 
puted, and was able to sanction decrees which otherwise might have 
lacked force, since the gathering of the bishops at Trent was to be 
far from universal. 

Not merely rules of procedure, but also the very substance of the 
debates had to be prepared beforehand. This could be performed in 
two different ways: either by beginning reformation at Rome, and 
thus setting an example which could not but be followed, or by 
finding out through committee work how such reformation could be 
extended to the whole of Christendom. Such tasks, however, could 
only be entrusted to right-minded men. Therefore Paul Ill's first 
move was to introduce members of the reforming party into the 
Sacred College and the curial offices. In his first batch of cardinals, 
in May, 1535, was included the Venetian statesman Gasparo Contar- 
ini. He was a virtuous layman, a Christian humanist, and had 
studied philosophy as well as theology at the university of Padua. 
He had formed around himself a circle of men of the same school. 
Among his friends were the poetess, Vittoria Colonna; Pietro Bern- 



72 THE CATHOLIC REFORMATION 

bo, a convert from the pagan Renaissance;, the English refugee, Reg- 
inald Pole; and some of the erstwhile members of the Oratory of 
Divine Love. As soon as he was created a cardinal, he took orders, 
and engaged upon the work of reform in the Roman Church. A 
commission for that purpose had been appointed in the previous 
year, and strengthened by the bull Sublimis Deus on August 27, 

1535- 
Contarini now proceeded to lend them his support, and thanks to 

his influence, a series of decrees was published on February n, 1536. 
The obligation to wear clerical dress was recalled; the use of the 
breviary was enforced anew; all holders of benefices were compelled 
to sue for confirmation within the space of four months, so that 
unqualified persons might be got rid of. Canons and prebendaries 
were now to take a personal part in solemn public worship; priests, 
to attend to the cure of souls, to say Mass at least once a month, and 
go to Communion on all feasts of obligation; clerics in minor orders 
were to receive Communion at least four times a year; all eccle- 
siastics were forbidden to enter public-houses, gambling-dens, and 
theatres. Preachers now had to seek guidance from certain superiors 
before refuting heretical doctrine. Mendicant friars were prevented 
from straggling about and collecting excessive alms. The very fact 
that these decrees were so moderate in their provisions shows how 
much a restoration of discipline was needed. 

The reformation of Rome and that of Christendom in general 
could scarcely be separated. Paul III soon tried to form a kind of 
"pre-council," which might set up an enquiry into Church condi- 
tions at large, and make suggestions for their improvement. In the 
latter half of July, 1536. the most notable among the members of the 
reforming party were, for that purpose, called up to Rome: Caraflfa, 
Giberti, Pole, and other Christian humanists, such as Sadolet and 
Federigo Fregoso. They were formed into a committee of nine, 
under the chairmanship of Contarini. Three of its members, Caraffa, 
Sadolet, and Pole, together with a batch of similarly minded men, 
were soon after raised to the cardinalate, and the resistance of the 
die-hards was consequently weakened. About mid-February, 1537, 
the committee handed in their report. It was entitled Consilium 
delectorum cardinalium et aliorum praelatorum de emendanda ec- 
clesia (Advice of the cardinals and other prelates chosen [by the 
pope] towards the reformation of the Church). This document, 



PREPARING FOR TRENT 73 

which is extremely severe in tone, begins with a few lines of thanks- 
giving for the goodwill of Paul III, who wishes to "restore the 
Church of Christ, which was crumbling down, nay had almost 
fallen in headlong ruin." 

The evils, which the Consilium denounces, all spring from one 
common source: the transformation of a spiritual society into a 
venal administration. The popes have, like all rulers, given a ready 
ear to flatterers. They have found councillors prepared to declare 
that "they might do what they pleased," especially in the matter of 
benefices, which, according to those doctors, they might freely dis- 
pose of in every case. Now, ownership implies a right to sell; hence 
the pope could take money for benefices without incurring the blame 
of simony. This, the report says, is the root of all abuses, the main 
cause of the Protestant revolt. It is needless to question the primacy 
of the pope; but he must not make use of it for gain. "Christ's order 
is: freely ye have received, freely give." The spiritual needs of the 
faithful must alone be considered, not the pecuniary interests of the 
Curia or of private persons. Now, it is at present common practice 
to select unqualified candidates, and to put them in wrong places; 
to allow them for their personal convenience or profit to draw pen- 
sions out of benefices where none should be granted except for 
charitable purposes; to exchange benefices; to bequeath them, no- 
tably to their children; to take advantage of expectation, reserva- 
tions, and pluralities. 

What is worse, the Consilium continues, the cardinals themselves 
thirst for gold. They forfeit their independence through making 
suit to princes for bishoprics. They ought to give these up and re- 
ceive regular and uniform emoluments. Non-residence is general: 
"almost all pastors have left their flocks; these are entrusted to 
mercenaries." Many cardinals live away from the papal court, and 
fail to perform their proper duties as advisers. They ought to dwell 
near the pope, while their sees should be occupied by resident 
bishops. The most important passage deals with exemptions. It 
should be quoted in full: 

"There is another abuse, which ought not to be in the least 
tolerated, and by which the whole Christian people is scandalized: 
it consists in the obstacles which hinder bishops in the government 
of their flocks, especially in the chastising and correcting of crimi- 
nals. For, to begin with, wicked men, especially clerics, find many 



74 THE CATHOLIC REFORMATION 

ways to exempt themselves from the jurisdiction of their ordinaries. 
And again, if they are not exempt, they forthwith fly to the Peni- 
tentiary, or to the Datary, where they immediately find a way to 
impunity, and what is worse, in return for cash. This scandal, O 
most blessed Father, disturbs the Christian people so much that 
words are not enough to explain it. Let these blots, we beseech your 
Holiness, by Christ's blood, through which He redeemed His 
Church and washed her clean, let these blots be removed; the which, 
if they were at all allowed in any Christian commonwealth or 
kingdom, it would forthwith or soon after fall down headlong, 
and by no means be able to stand any longer; and yet we think 
it lawful to introduce such monstrosities into the Christian 
republic." 

The Consilium is drastic on the question of the regulars. The 
monastic orders, it runs, are a cause of scandal, and ought to be 
allowed to die out, while the novices should be sent home. As to 
the friars, they should not be permitted to preach or hear con- 
fessions unless fully qualified, and then with the consent of the 
bishop of the diocese. Papal legates and nuncios should take no 
gratuities; their disinterestedness would edify the people wonder- 
fully. In the monasteries of women in charge of conventual (or 
unreformed) friars, scandals are rife; these monasteries should be 
handed over to the ordinaries or to other directors. The spirit of 
the pagan Renaissance is at work in the schools, in which impiety 
is taught, while irreverence prevails in public debates held on re- 
ligious subjects. Such disputations ought to be private, while pro- 
fanity should be banished from the schools. The printing of books 
should be watched over. 

Monks should not be granted permission to cast off their regular 
dress on payment of a certain sum of money. Those who go about 
hawking indulgences in the name of the Holy Ghost, of St. 
Anthony, "thus deceiving the simple people of the country," should 
be prevented from doing so. No dispensation should be granted for 
the marriage of persons "in sacred orders"; none for the marriage 
of lay people related in the second degree, who should only be fined 
if the marriage has been solemnized in defiance of the rules. Steps 
should be taken against another crying abuse: "the absolution of 
simoniacs. Woe! To what extent this pestilent vice prevails in the 
Church of Christ! So much so, that some are not afraid to commit 



PREPARING FOR TRENT 75 

simony, and then forthwith to apply for absolution from the penalty 
incurred. Nay, they buy such absolution, and thus retain the bene- 
fice which they have bought." The pope ought on no account to 
remit the punishment for simony, for no crime "is more pernicious, 
or more scandalous." 

Confessionals and portable altars are granted too freely, sacred 
things being thus cheapened. Only one indulgence a year ought to 
be proclaimed in each important town. No commutation of vows 
ought to be allowed, "except for an equivalent good." The wills of 
testators should be adhered to, while at present pious bequests are 
often transferred to private heirs who plead poverty. Turning to the 
condition of things in Rome itself, the Consilium points to the fact 
that even in St. Peter's Church are seen disreputable priests, "filthily 
clad and ignorant," who would disgrace the poorest churches; and 
that courtesans parade about on mules in the streets, "followed in 
full daylight by noblemen, members of the household of cardinals, 
and clerics. In no other town, the report adds, have we seen such 
corruption." Reference is also made to the necessity of composing 
private feuds, and of creating charitable institutions to be put in 
the charge of cardinals. To finish with, Paul III is besought to be- 
have like another St. Paul. 

The picture of the Church offered by the Consilium is a sad one 
indeed: it is no wonder that Protestant propaganda should have 
turned it to good account. That it should have been written at all, 
however, "without respect of the pope's, or anyone else's advantage"; 
and that the work it outlined should have been performed within 
the space of a few years, is proof that the spiritual resources of what 
was now to be known as Catholicism were far from being ex- 
hausted. They were only smothered by the weight of administrative 
corruption. 

The most urgent task was to improve the government of the 
Church; and while some of the suggestions of the report as for 
instance those bearing on the residence of cardinals or on religious 
orders were disregarded, the others were to move the Holy See 
to immediate action, and to the resumption of reform in Rome 
itself. In the consistory of April 20, 1537, a congregation of four 
cardinals, Contarini, Caraffa, Simonetta, and Ghinucci, was en- 
trusted with the correction of abuses in the curial offices, and 
to begin with, in the Datary. The latter was so-called from 



76 THE CATHOLIC REFORMATION 

the fact that it dated and authenticated all the documents re- 
ferring to spiritual graces granted by the pope, while charging 
fees for the same. Unfortunately payment was exacted before the 
favours could take effect, and the sums charged were much in 
excess of the actual expense entailed. To the chancery duties, which 
were paid into the papal treasury, the curials added, as a salary for 
their own pains, "compositions" or "taxations." These ought to have 
been settled according to a fixed scale, but the rise in the cost of 
living consequent upon the Sack of Rome was a pretext for in- 
creasing them out of all rule or measure, and demanding additional 
sums to be paid as extras or personal gratuities. As a remedy for 
this abuse, the reforming congregation suggested that compositions 
should be done away with, and that the pope should grant regular 
salaries to his officials, or, at any rate, that the fees charged should 
correspond to the actual outlay. 

But the curials were to put up a hard fight. They had telling 
arguments to use: if the compositions were suppressed or reduced, 
they said, the Holy See would lose most of its revenues, and would 
also forfeit its prestige. They were greatly helped by the dangers 
which threatened the papacy on every hand, and made it necessary 
to postpone the work of reform. It was making headway slowly, 
however. In 1539, Paul HI, leaving the Datary aside for a time, 
appointed commissaries to deal with the Penitentiary, the Roman 
tribunals, the Chancery, the Rota. On December 19, a new group 
of reformers were raised to the cardmalate, including Fedengo 
Fregoso, a survivor of the court of Leo X and of the Oratory of 
Divine Love, a humanist too. For five or six years past, he had been 
at work transforming his diocese of Gubbio, and was known there 
as "the father of the poor." Even the older cardinals were touched 
by the new enthusiasm. On April 21, 1540, the pope declared that 
he was going to remodel all the curial offices at once. On August 8, 
Cardinal Pucci, the head of the Penitentiary, finally gave way and 
allowed a free hand to the papal commissaries. A bull of May 12, 
1542, was to simplify procedure m the Roman court and fix duties 
at a reasonable level; but as early as 1541 the congregation of reform 
had extended their action much further, and obtained considerable 
results. 

"They have done away with expectations," a contemporary wrote, 
"with the ordaining of unqualified persons against payment, with 



PREPARING FOR TRENT 77 

dispensations from the clausura or the wearing of the religious 
habit, and the plurality of benefices with cure of souls, even in the 
case of cardinals; dispensations in general have been notably re- 
duced, for marriage especially, also the confirmation of titles ac- 
quired through simony, and resignations entailing pensions or 
reservations; such dispensations as have been retained now merely 
contribute to the support of pious undertakings." 

Thanks to the will and perseverance of Paul III, Rome was no 
longer a disgrace, but, in the words of Contarini, a model for 
Christendom; the ground was now cleared for the Council of Trent. 

BIBLIOGRAPHY 

The mam source for this chapter is again Pastor, History of the Popes, 
Vols. IX, X, XI, and XII. In addition to the works quoted in the bib- 
liography to Chapter III (Vida, Pallavicmi, Janelle) see, on the reform 
of the Curia, the article "Cour Romaine" in the Dictionnaire de thcologie 
catholique of Vacant et Mangenot. On the religious assembly at Ratisbon 
in 1541, full information is found in Martin Bucer, Acta colloquh in 
comitus Imperil Ratisponae habiti (Argentorati, 1542), also published in 
an English translation by Myles Coverdale, as The actes of the disputa- 
tion in the cowncell of the Empyre holden at Regenspurg (s. 1., 1542); 
also Albertus Pighius, C ontr over star um praecipuarum in comitus Ratis- 
ponensibus tractatarum . . . cxplicatio (Pansiis, 1549), which judges 
things from the Catholic standpoint. The Consilium delectorum cardina- 
lium is reproduced by Labbe, Sanctorum concihorum collectlo nova, torn. 
XXXV (Parisns, 1644), and in the recast edition of Labbe by Mansi, 
Sacrorum conciliorum nova et amphssima collectio (Florence, 1759- 
1798) (also see the photographic facsimile edition begun in 1900). It has 
often been reprinted, for instance by Felix Kyngston (London, 1609). On 
Pole and Contarini see Epistolae Regmaldi Poll, 5 vols. (Bnxiae 1744- 
1757), and the exhaustive and interesting work by R. Biron and J. 
Barennes, Un prince anglais, cardinal-legal au XVIeme siecle; Reginald 
Pole (Pans, 1922). 



CHAPTER V 



The Council of Trent 



THE Council of Trent, when seen from afar, and judged by its 
results, looks like one of the noble, stately edifices of the 
Catholic Reformation period; it impresses one by its huge 
mass, its duration, its weightmess, by the harmony between the var- 
ious parts of its work. It seems, indeed, hard to realize that it was in 
fact not always engaged in grave and sedate discussion; that it was 
a struggle, and a long and dramatic one, between the papacy, which 
made for the permanency of the united Church, and short-sighted 
local interests; that its members were mere men, with all their weak- 
nesses, pettinesses, rivalries, their lack of foresight, their insistence 
on private claims; that only the compelling force of utter necessity, 
and the contagious enthusiasm of a superior ideal, carried them 
away almost in spite of themselves; while their assembly, which 
might have ended in a hopeless muddle, was safely directed to the 
completion of its task by the guidance and leadership of wise and 
far-sighted popes. 

In fact, the essential point in the history of the Council of Trent 
is the, part which was played in it by the Holy See. This was made 
necessary by the very circumstances in which it had met. Unlike 
previous councils, it could lay no claim to universality. Efforts were 
niade, indeed, to gather representatives from all parts of Christen- 
dom. A deputy was sent in 1551 by the patriarch of Constantinople, 
and later, in 1561, Pope Pius IV applied to the Greek and Russian 
Churches, to the Balkan princes, and even to the emperor of 
Ethiopia; Jbutjiljjn _vam. It had been hoped that at least the Protes- 
tants, who had been so long clamouring for a council, would take 
part in the debates. Safe -conducts were offered to them; and in fact 
Sleidan, the Strasbourg theologian, and ambassadors from Wurtem- 

78 



THE COUNCIL OF TRENT 79 

berg put in a belated appearance under Julius III. But they peremp- 
torily rejected the authority of the Holy See, and of the council in 
its previous sittings, and refused to accept any basis for discussion 
apart from "pure Scripture"; which made an understanding impos- 
sible from the outset; nor did they appear at later stages. Even when 
most numerous, the assembly represented only a fraction of Chris- 
tendom. To lend force to its decrees, confirmation was needed from 
some higher spiritual authority. This was felt by the Fathers, who 
kept referring all doubtful points to Rome and finally submitted the 
whole of their work to Pius IV for his approval. 

But the authority of the papacy was even more needed to induce 
the Fathers to forget their own national claims for the sake of the 
Church as a whole. The weal of the latter required a stringent con- 
demnation of Protestantism; for reformation implied a declaration 
jofjibuses, especially of those which arose when Christian dogma 
was mi^igterprfited, as in the case of indulgences. It was necessary to 
affirm that dogma anew, to make a statement of orthodoxy. Now 
the asseruoiTof "clearly defined truths was opposed, or seemed to be 
opposed, to local interests. For it touched and angered the Lutherans 
and Huguenots, who were not merely heretics in the eyes of the 
Catholic Church, but also subjects of the Emperor and of the king 
of France, and rebellious subjects at that. If dealt with harshly, they 
might prove troublesome. The sovereigns, therefore, set about pro- 
tecting the anti-papal sections of their peoples, while, strarigely^ 
enough, insisting on national privileges which they held from the 
authority of the Holy See. Their bishops followed in their steps, 
kept exerting pressure upon the council j:o retard its work and put 
off all drastic reforming action which might either Irntate^the 
heretics r_JKroach upon the rights of the piirices. Even those of 
Spain, where Protestantism was scarcely to be feared, made up an 
independent group which steadily opposed the influence and author- 
ity of the papacy; and the latter needed all its perseverance and 
energy, all its diplomatic skill also, to bring the council at last to its 
epoch-making conclusion. 

Nor were the material difficulties to be overcome less trying than 
the ill-will of the princes. It was no easy task to gather an assembly 
of bishops, many of them elderly men, in an age when travelling 
was slow and devoid of comfort. Many of them were unwilling to 
leave their dioceses, where they were loath to interrupt the struggle 



8o THE CATHOLIC REFORMATION 

against Protestantism, even to go and conduct it on a larger scale 
at the council. Besides, people as a whole had become rather 
skeptical about the latter, which had given rise to so much talk and 
yet been put off so repeatedly. It took fifteen years from 1546 to 
1561 to force general belief and acceptance upon the reluctant 
prelates. 

The local conditions were not as favourable as might have been. 
Trent had been selected on account of its proximity to Germany, 
where the religious difficulties had sprung up, where reformation 
was mostly needed, where the Lutherans were to be found, whom 
the council might reconcile to the Catholic Church. Also, the town 
lay within the dominions of the Emperor, whose support was sought 
above all others. But it was also deep in the Alps, and its severe 
winter was especially painful for the Italian majority of the as- 
sembly; while its sultry summer made work almost impossible, the 
more so as no sufficient accommodation was available, either for 
official purposes, or for the private requirements of the Fathers, their 
theologians, secretaries, domestics, of the ambassadors and their 
train a motley and picturesque crowd which must have numbered 
thousands of people, many of them of high rank and accustomed to 
luxury. The curial bishops had much rather stay in Rome than risk 
discomfort and disease in crammed and insanitary quarters. 

It was an arduous task for three successive popes, first to get the 
Fathers on the move, and then when they had at last reached 
Trent, to keep them there. Circumstances were far more adverse 
what with the wars of religion and the dangers lurking on every 
road than they had been at the time of the Lateran Council, or 
even of Basle and Constance; and they would have ruined the whole 
undertaking, had it not been for the persistent and powerful action 
of the papacy. 

This action and the gradual progress due to it are revealed by the 
facts and dates in the history of the council. The latter falls into 
three periods, separated by long intervals. The assembly first sat 
continuously for two years in the pontificate of Paul III. A few of 
its members met at Trent in March, 1545, their numbers slowly in- 
creasing to seventy-two in the winter of 1547. Then an epidemic 
broke out in the town and a fear arose that it might be quarantined 
and famished; many Fathers took to flight and the legates pro- 
nounced the transfer of the council to Bologna. But the imperial 



THE COUNCIL OF TRENT 81 

bishops, mostly Spaniards, declared against this move; their sov- 
ereign's interests, they thought, would not be sufficiently safe- 
guarded outside his dominions; and they remained in Trent, while 
forty-five Fathers only moved to Bologna, where the assembly 
dragged on its languid life until October, 1549, shortly before the 
death of Paul III. It was suspended for the space of eighteen months 
and called up again in Trent by Pope Julius III, who, as Cardinal 
del Monte, had presided over it during the first period. It met on 
May 'ty 1551, and lasted for one full year; but the times were 
troubled, with war in northern Italy and a Lutheran advance in 
southern Germany, which eventually compelled the Fathers to 
scatter in May, 1552. This accounts for their small number, barely 
fifty-nine of them, including six deputies of German bishops, being 
present at the most favoured sitting. 

Then followed a long interval of eleven years. The troublous state 
of Italy lasted on until the death of Julius III in 1554, and precluded 
the resumption of the council. Nor was the imperious Paul IV, who 
succeeded to the papal throne after the brief pontificate of Marcellus 
II, inclined to gather it anew. He viewed it as a ready instrument 
for the machinations of princes, and preferred to continue its work 
by his own means. For a general assembly sitting far from Rome, 
and comparatively independent, he substituted committees sitting 
in Rome, and appointed by himself. The correction of abuses Tjras 
undertaken unflinchingly, as well as the suppression of doctrinal 
novelties; with such severity, indeed as when the Inquisition 
was made to try Pole and Morone for heresy that Paul IV de- 
feated his own purpose, and that his enterprise roused discontent and 
ended in failure. After his death, it was felt that the council, which 
allowed of the airing of grievances, was a necessity. Besides, cir- 
cumstances were growing more favourable for its recall. 

Formidable obstacles in the way of the pope's reforming work 
were removed in 1559, when both Charles V and the French king, 
Henry II, disappeared from the stage carrying their imperialist pre- 
tensions with them into the grave. Accordingly Pope Pius IV, who 
was endowed with all the qualities of a statesman, opened negotia- 
tions, soon after his election (Christmas, 1559), with the various 
European sovereigns, in view of a new gathering of the council; 
and despite many difficulties, the assembly was called up for Easter 
Sunday, April 16, 1561, on which date the legates arrived in Trent. 



82 THE CATHOLIC REFORMATION 

The third period of the council lasted for two years and eight 
months, the closing session taking place on December n, 1563. Its 
course, if not uneventful, was at any rate peaceful. The attendance 
now became far more numerous than it had been previously. On 
July 15, 1563, it rose to two hundred and thirty-five, including six 
cardinals, seven generals of orders, and six procurators of bishops. 
We have a full list of the Fathers on that day, the diocese, abbey, or 
order of each being mentioned; yet it is no easy task to determine 
the national groups into which the assembly had naturally fallen, 
and to weigh the influence of the pope and of the various European 
sovereigns. Many of the bishops resided at the Curia, and can hardly 
be considered as belonging to the countries in which their episcopal 
sees were situated. The difficulty of long journeys accounts for the 
fact that the assembly was mostly made up of those Fathers who 
were near at hand: Italian names are in a majority. This, however, 
is not, as one might think, equivalent to papal preponderance; for, 
as far as reckoning is possible, out of one hundred and thirty-five 
Italians, forty-six only depended upon the pope directly, as having 
their sees in the States of the Church. Among the rest, forty be- 
longed to the kingdom of Naples, ten to the duchy of Milan, fifteen 
to the territory of Venice; they were the subjects of three sovereigns 

the king of Spain, the Emperor, the Venetian republic who had 
not been noted lately for oversubmissiveness towards the Holy See. 
In fact, the Emperor and Spain together could more or less com- 
mand ninety-five votes (the Spanish group alone numbering seventy- 
nine Fathers, if Naples is counted in), while the king of France had 
sent twenty bishops, many of them strong Gallicans. The Germans 

whether they were lukewarm towards the council, or kept at 
home by the religious troubles were practically absent; but there 
were a good few representatives from the Venetian colonies of 
Crete, Cyprus, Dalmatia, and the Greek Archipelago; together with 
a sprinkling from Portugal, Hungary, Croatia, Poland, Scotland, 
Ireland, Switzerland. Altogether, it would be a huge mistake to 
think that the pope had the assembly at his beck and call. It was 
frequently restive, and submitted to the authority of the Holy See 
only because the latter had taken the lead in regard to reformation, 
and gained considerable moral prestige. 

* * * 

Indeed, despite occasional outbursts of ill-humour, the opposition 



THE COUNCIL OF TRENT 83 

was divided, and could not but submit most of the time to the 
steady, persevering guidance of the papacy, which alone was in a 
position to "run" the council. The actual "running" was done by 
the cardinal-legates and presidents, and mostly by the one among 
them who was entrusted with superior authority Cervini in the 
first period, Crescenzi in the second one, and Morone at the end. 
They enjoyed constant advice and support from Rome, where a 
special congregation of the council was sitting. Frequent letters 
passed to and fro. In the third period Pius IV's nephew, Cardinal 
Charles Borromeo, who had been made secretary of state, was the 
daily correspondent of the legates. The latter settled the agenda, as 
well as the method, of the debates. 

Despite the interruptions of the council, continuity in its manage- 
ment was ensured : the archives were kept during the intervals, and 
duly handed to the presidents at the next gathering. He who knew 
them best, the chief secretary, Massarelli, retained his functions 
throughout. It meant much for the influence of the Holy See that its 
officials should be the only permanent elements at Trent. The real 
work was done most of the time in committees. At one time the 
assembly was divided into three sections, at other times, a selection 
was made of the most eminent or representative members of each 
group. The Fathers only archbishops, bishops, abbots, heads of 
orders, and a few procurators were entitled to vote in the full 
sessions, in which final decisions were reached, and were therefore 
known as diffinitores (defmers of dogma) ; but in the committees, 
advisers or consultores were admitted as well. Each cardinal or 
bishop had brought his theologians along with him, and the total 
number of such helpers was considerable. Some of them attained to 
great eminence, such as the two Spanish Jesuits, Salmeron and Lay- 
nez, the latter the general of his order, who appeared on behalf of 
the pope. 

Had the Fathers and theologians been left to themselves, the de- 
bates would probably have proceeded much faster, despite the 
strength of national feeling; but according to ancient custom, the 
various ambassadors were allowed, if not to vote, at any rate to sit 
in the council, and to state before it the grievances and objections 
of their sovereigns. They used to stand on ceremony a good deal, 
and the assembly was pestered with endless conflicts of precedence 
between Portugal and Hungary, between France and Spain, be- 



84 THE CATHOLIC REFORMATION 

tween Bavaria, Switzerland, Venice, and Florence. This entailed 
considerable loss of time; but the activity of the ambassadors was 
even more troublesome behind the scenes. They were constantly, 
though not always successfully, egging on their national bishops to 
put forward the claims of their princes. In fact, they found their 
minds ready prepared; for the old conciliar spirit was still alive in 
the assembly, and stood in strong opposition to the centralizing in- 
fluence of Rome. Many among the Fathers insisted on local inde- 
pendence in the Church, while the Holy See emphasized the neces- 
sity of subordination. Nor is it really possible to blame either side, 
for both were actuated by creditable motives. It is but too true that 
the past corruption of the Curia justified distrust on the part of the 
hierarchy, and many sincerely believed that no reformation was 
possible, unless the bonds were somewhat loosened between the local 
churches and the papacy. At the same time, it so happened that 
their attitude favoured to no small extent the unanimous efforts of 
princes to make themselves, to all intents and purposes, the heads of 
their national churches, and to use such overlordship for other than 
religious purposes. Therefore, it cannot be doubted that their policy 
ran counter to that very reformation of the Church, which they 
were no less anxious to bring about than their adversaries; and that 
Rome alone, once purified, could undertake the cleansing work 
which was highly unpalatable to most sovereigns in Europe. 

From the very first the conciliar party began to raise difficulties, 
and there followed bickerings which kept recurring from time to 
time, right up to the very end. The articles which ruled the proceed- 
ings made use of the words proponentibus legatis, thus denoting 
that the legates alone could submit proposals to the vote of the 
assembly. This was considered as curtailing the initiative of indi- 
vidual members, and was attacked again and again. On the other 
hand, several fathers insisted upon the insertion of the phrase uni- 
versalem ecclesiam repraesentans, as qualifying the council, in the 
heading of its decisions; which in their minds implied that the coun- 
cil was superior to the pope. On neither point, however, could the 
opposition conquer. On several occasions they tried to induce the as- 
sembly to revert to the practice of Basle, and vote by nations; but 
here again they failed. The most serious differences, however, arose 
in connection with the national policy of each of the various 
sovereigns. 



THE COUNCIL OF T*ENT 85 

During the first period, the Emperor Charles V had no wish to 
let a council headed by the pope deal with the religious dissensions 
in Germany. He decidedly objected to any debates bearing upon 
dogma, because he thought that the Lutherans might be antagonized 
thereby. From the very first he demanded "that the Fathers should 
begin with Reformation and disciplinary questions . . . and abstain 
from definitions which would interfere with, or altogether preclude, 
any agreement with Luther." When the sittings of the council had 
already begun, he made a further and desperate attempt to con- 
ciliate the Protestant League of Smalkalden, and called a "colloquy" 
at Ratisbon in the winter of 1546, Its failure was not enough to 
change his mind. He kept exerting pressure at Trent in order to 
avert any solemn condemnation of Lutheranism. Being unable to 
put of? the debate on justification any further, he followed the same 
method as Henry VIII on a different occasion, and insisted that the 
universities of Cologne, Louvain, and Paris should first of all be 
consulted. When at last he realized that conciliation was impossible, 
he took up arms against the Lutherans, and completely vanquished 
them. 

He did not therefore relinquish into the hands of the assembled 
Fathers what he considered to be his own spiritual prerogative. He 
deemed it his right to call up the council in whatever town he chose, 
and solemnly protested against the moving of the assembly to 
Bologna. He got his protestations printed and scattered about pro- 
fusely, which was tantamount to a declaration of war upon the 
papacy. He set to work at the Diet of Augsburg (January, 1548) 
with the help of his own theologians, to prepare a confession of 
faith which would serve for all his German subjects, Catholic and 
Protestant alike, pending the decisions of the council. This confes- 
sion, known as the "Interim," was too vague to satisfy the Catholics, 
and was finally considered as binding the Protestants only. In draft- 
ing it, nevertheless, the Emperor has assumed quasi-papal powers 
and had gone almost as far as Henry VIII himself. 

Nor were pretensions to spiritual supremacy within a certain ter- 
ritory confined to Charles V alone. No sooner had he disappeared 
from the stage than Henry II of France began to make trouble in 
his turn. He was imbued with the Gallican spirit. In his eyes the 
council enjoyed no real freedom, and was dependent on the emperor. 
Besides, at the very moment when Julius III was gathering the 



86 THE CATHOLIC REFORMATION 

Fathers anew, he sent troops into Italy (February, 1551) to support 
the claim of Ottavio Farnese to Parma and Piacenza, the fate of 
which the pope wished to settle in negotiation with the emperor. 
Hence the usual blustering threats on the part of the French king, 
who declared he would call up a national council, stopped the send- 
ing of moneys to Rome, hinted at Gallican independence, and the 
creation of a patriarch of Gaul. After 1560, French policy became an 
almost exact counterpart of imperial policy as it had been under 
Charles V. The strength of the Huguenots had increased so much 
that they were in a position to demand a national assembly in 
France for the settlement of religion. This was granted to them in 
the summer of 1561, when a "colloquy" met at Poissy, to no great 
purpose it is true. The king of France was the ally of the German 
Protestants; the Imperialist party in Germany was paralleled by the 
Gallican party in France, who were inclined towards toleration and 
a kind of "Interim." They refused to recognize the validity of the 
sessions of the council held under Paul III and Julius III, which 
they considered as not "general" enough. Later on, when at last a 
delegation of French bishops had appeared at Trent, they supported 
the representatives of the Empire and Spain in their opposition to 
papal overlordship. While praising the work done at Poissy, and 
advocating conciliation, they defended the privileges of the French 
crown, and the "liberties of the Gallican Church" in other words 
the maintenance of the authority of their sovereign over his clergy, 
and his right to appoint to benefices, episcopal sees, and other eccle- 
siastical offices; which meant, though they might deny it, the con- 
tinuation of manifold abuses. 

The question which exercised the council most, and repeatedly 
endangered its harmony, was that of the rights and powers of the 
episcopate. The curial party believed that the bishops held delegated 
powers from the pope. Their opponents whom we may for the 
sake of convenience call the Episcopalians deemed on the con- 
trary that the bishops held their powers directly from God, and were 
accountable to Him only. The practical importance of this difference 
appeared in the long-protracted debates on residence, and on the 
privileges of exempt bodies. If the bishops were instituted by God 
directly, they were bound to reside in their sees, and to refuse em- 
ployment at the Curia, rather than be compelled to govern their 
dioceses through deputies. If, on the other hand, they were instituted 



THE COUNCIL OF TRENT 87 

by the pope, the latter might dispense them from residence accord- 
ing to the requirements of the Church at large. Again, in the former 
case, episcopal jurisdiction could not be curtailed by an intervention 
of the Holy See, such as exemptions implied; in the latter case 
exempt bodies, cathedral colleges, religious orders and houses might 
appeal to Rome for the maintenance of their privileges. Both parties 
invoked the superior interest of the Church. The Episcopalians re- 
called the numberless abuses to which the practice of exemptions 
had given rise, and asserted that only an independent and powerful 
hierarchy could restore discipline; while the Curials pointed out that 
the independence of the hierarchy really meant its subjection to the 
will of princes, who derived much profit from the abuses and had 
no real desire of reformation; also that the Church needed a central 
administration, and required for headquarters the services of her 
most valuable helpers, even if they belonged to the episcopal body. 

The contending opinions were not always, however, so clear-cut 
as might appear from the above summary. It is true that part of the 
assembly mostly the Spaniards, afterwards supported by the 
French Fathers kept up almost throughout the council an agita- 
tion in favour of the divine right of episcopacy: that they refused 
to allow of any absence of a bishop from his see, even for legitimate 
reasons, and would not even permit the practice of pastoral letters 
as a substitute for personal preaching; that they proposed heavy 
penalties against non-resident prelates and even cardinals; and that 
while asserting that the bishops were in one sense the equals of the 
pope, they implied that the council was superior to the Holy See. 
But much of that heckling of the papal legates might really be de- 
scribed as "letting off steam." When the council came to practical 
problems, the various parties felt that there was more to unite than 
there was to divide them. Even the Spanish and French bishops 
needed the help of the Holy See against kings who made free with 
the rights and property of the Church, and against the inferior 
clergy who asserted their own privileges. Even the papacy- knew 
that the enforcement of residence was a necessary item of the pro- 
gramme of reformation: "No one," as the legate Cervini replied in 
1547 to the bishop of Huesca, "questions the obvious necessity of 
residence; the whole point is to know how it should be observed." 

Though long years of work were needed to make an end of con- 
tention, agreement did come at last, on most of the points submitted 



88 THE CATHOLIC REFORMATION 

to the council. Not, indeed, that it fulfilled its whole purpose. It 
was able to take steps towards the reformation of the Church at 
large, but not to enforce its decisions outside the papal states. Many 
of the Fathers more than one hundred patriarchs, archbishops, 
and bishops declared on September n, 1563, that they refused to 
take any further part in the proceedings, if the Reformation was not 
extended to the princes as well. The latter, they said, ought no longer 
to take advantage of flagrant abuses, and should therefore be de- 
prived of their rights of patronage and forbidden to appropriate 
Church property to their own uses. The Church was to be inde- 
pendent of the civil power. This was, however, more than the 
council could effect, and it had to be content to leave its task un- 
finished, and to trust to the Holy See to enforce its decrees as far as 
could be done. The work completed was nevertheless considerable; 
and so, though in the midst of bickering and strife, a great body of 
legislation had gradually shaped itself, which was to be the charter 
of the Catholic Reformation and direct its later progress. 



On the termination of the council, one of the bishops present, the 
Venetian, Hierommo Ragazzom, gave expression to the general joy 
in a long oration which, though most classically polished and ele- 
gant, was nevertheless exultant in tone. 

"Earlier councils," he said, "have done their best to correct our 
faith and correct our manners; but I doubt whether they performed 
their task as diligently, or as brilliantly, as we have done. Everyone's 
sores have been laid open, everyone's life brought to light: nothing 
has been dissembled. The arguments and reasonings of our adver- 
saries have been handled as if in the interests of their cause, not of 
ours. Some points have been discussed thrice, or even four times; 
and often the highest pitch of contention has been reached; but in 
such wise that, as gold is tried by fire, the strength and sinews of 
truth were, so to say, tried by wrestling. For indeed what real dis- 
cord could there exist between men who were inspired by the same 
convictions, and who had the same end in view?" 

In fact, it seems, humanly speaking, hardly believable that an 
assembly, torn about by conflicting tendencies, should have shown 
itself so unanimous and so clear about its own mind, in its Canoncs 
ct Decreta. This work, despite the lapse of eighteen years between 



THE COUNCIL OF TRENT 89 

its inception and termination, is a forcible and coherent body of 
doctrine. It is fairly equally divided into two parts, the dogmatic 
and the disciplinary decrees, between which there is, of course, no 
absolutely clear-cut distinction. The former refute the new heresies, 
and strongly, uncompromisingly assert the orthodox faith. They are 
a mere naked, austere exposition of the Catholic Church's teaching; 
but there is something bracing about their very severity, a driving 
force which was bound to carry wavering opinion along with it. 
Amidst the weltering confusion of thought which prevailed in the* 
mid-sixteenth century, a definite statement of the Church's position 
was a rallying-point for many bewildered souls. As for the disci- 
plinary decrees, they deal with moral abuses as being the outcome of 
faulty administrative practice; they bring the necessary correctives 
to the anarchical state of the Church; they make her government, 
hierarchy, and system of jurisdiction into a harmonious whole. 

Such strength of thought and steadiness of purpose would be 
wholly unaccountable had the council been merely a scrimmage 
between contending parties. But in truth all its members shared the 
same high ideal and had a noble conception of their own duty and 
of the function of the Church. Of course they did not express their 
feelings and enthusiasm through oratorical speeches or gushing sen- 
timentahsm. But their warm piety breathes forth from many a pas- 
sage of sober and restrained beauty. The following lines are both 
lofty in feeling and harmonious in the original Latin; they are a 
warning to prelates to lead virtuous lives: 

"It is to be desired that those who accept the episcopal charge, 
should acknowledge their duty in it; and understand that they have 
been elevated, not for their own advantage, nor to acquire riches or 
luxury, but to labour and bear trouble, for the glory of God. Nor is 
it to be doubted that the rest of the faithful will be more easily fired 
with zeal for piety and innocence, if they see their chiefs pondering, 
not the things of this world, but the salvation of souls, and their 
heavenly home. The holy council, considering that these are prin- 
cipal things towards restoring ecclesiastical discipline, warns all 
bishops that, by often meditating on them privately, they show them- 
selves worthy of their charge, through their very deeds, and the 
business of their lives, which are a kind of perpetual preaching; and 
first of all that they thus dispose their manners, that others may 
seek from them examples of frugality, temperance, continence, and 



90 THE CATHOLIC REFORMATION 

of that holy humility, which wins us such favour in the eyes of. 
God." 

The same lofty tone is maintained throughout the Ctmones et 
Dccreta. There is in them a mingling of quiet and stately dignity, 
of burning charity, of fervent piety. The council, after advising 
bishops not to be overbearing with their flocks, warns them against 
fawning upon princes, their ministers, and their barons; and asks 
them "to bethink themselves of their order and degree, both in 
their churches and abroad, and remember that they are fathers and 
pastors." The charitable zeal for the welfare of the -Church is re- 
vealed in the safe conduct granted to the Protestants in 1551 : "The 
Holy Council," it runs, "though it has, with much longing, vainly 
expected their arrival for many months past; yet, like a devoted 
mother, who groans in her throes, and whose pangs are mingled 
with hope, wishing, that among those, who are counted Christians, 
there should be no schism, but that, as they all confess the same 
God and Redeemer, they should declare the same, believe the same, 
acknowledge the same . . ." grants to the Protestants a safe access to 
Trent and a safe return home. As for the warm, sincere piety, it is 
evident in the passage which recommends frequent Communion: 
"The council warns, exhorts, beseeches, entreats all and sundry . . . 
to believe and venerate those holy mysteries of the body and 
blood of Christ, with such constancy and firmness of faith, such 
devotion of the heart, such piety and honour, that they may often 
receive that supra-substantial bread, and that it may truly be to them, 
the life of the soul, and the perpetual health of the mind." 

Such a height of spiritual fervour was bound to be reflected in the 
ethical field; nor should what has been said above of administrative 
reform be taken to mean that the council was indifferent to moral 
evils as such. Its legislation against laxity of manners is quite as 
rigorous as that of the most severe Protestants. Like the Presby- 
terians, the council condemned organ-music in churches, and "prick- 
song," in which it was undoubtedly ill-advised; like the Presby- 
terians again, it advised public penance for public sinners, so that 
"he who had through his example drawn others to evil manners, 
should recall them to an upright life through the witness of his 
correction." Some exaggerations may indeed be accounted for by 
the reaction against Renaissance lasciviousness; but the action of the 
council was of the happiest when it forbade duelling, and ordered 



THE COUNCIL OF TRENT 91 

that those who countenanced it, be they emperors or kings, should 
be excommunicated; when it took stringent measures against con- 
cubinary priests, "of whatever degree, dignity, or condition"; when 
it prescribed a decent behaviour in the house of God. 

The moral ideal of the Council of Trent strongly recalls that of 
the Christian humanists of the early sixteenth century, many of 
whom had, as a matter of fact, lived long enough to take part in the 
debates. It is an ideal of earnest soberness, of decent temperateness. 
The following rules are laid down for all clerics: 

"It altogether behooves all those who are called to act in the name 
of God, so to compose their lives and manner, that in their outward 
bearing, their deportment, their gait, and their speech, they show 
nothing but what is grave, moderate, and full of piety." In preach- 
ing as well as in conduct, the Christian humanists advised a decent 
plainness; they recommended sermons in the vernacular, simple and 
homely, without any unnecessary refinements of eloquence and logic. 
The same spirit appears in the Trentine canons bearing on the 
subject. Lest, m the words of Jeremiah, "the little ones ask bread, 
and no man break it unto them," all archbishops, bishops, arch- 
priests, and priests are requested to address their flocks in person, 
no exemption of any kind being allowed; but they should do so "in 
words brief and easy." When explaining the 'force and use" of the 
sacraments, as they ought to do before dispensing them, let them do 
so "in the vernacular, if need be," and "in words suitable for the 
understanding of those who are to receive, . . . piously and wisely." 
On Sundays and feast days, they should comment, "also in the 
vulgar tongue," on "the holy discourses, and their intimations of 
salvation"; but here again, they should, "when striving to plant 
them into the hearts of all, and make the people learned in the law 
of the Lord, . . . leave aside any useless disquisitions," Purgatory 
should be taught, but, "with the ruder sort of people, the more 
difficult and subtle questions, which do not tend to edification, and 
through which most of the time piety is not augmented, should be 
left out of the sermons." 

Generally speaking, the council, like the Christian humanists, 
believes in plain, honest common sense. The carrying of the Sacra- 
ment to the sick, one of the decrees runs, is an ancient use, and 
should be retained: "Besides, it is consonant with the highest equity 
and reason." Whenever a point of dogma or canon law is demon- 



92 THE CATHOLIC REFORMATION 

strated, there is the same appeal to plain, balanced thinking. Only 
long quotations could illustrate the constant effort of the council to 
be reasonable and coherent. Some idea of it may be gamed from the 
following lines on confession. They first recall that Christ gave to 
his priests and vicars the power of the keys, and then proceed thus: 
"It is obvious that priests cannot pronounce judgment without 
knowing the cause, and that in fact they cannot preserve equity in 
the imposing of penalties, if the faithful declare their sins only in 
general, and not in detail, and one by one. It follows that the peni- 
tents must needs review in confession all their mortal sins, of which 
they have become conscious after diligently examining themselves." 
The very style of the Canoncs et Decreta is in agreement with the 
thought. It is terse, forcible, seldom allows itself any artifices of 
rhetoric, but often rises to great dignity. Its latmity is pure, elegant, 
and sometimes slightly affected, as when orationes is preferred to 
preces, or servator to salvator. The literary ideal of the Fathers finds 
expression in their rules on forbidden books. "Such as deal with 
lascivious or lewd subjects . . . should be altogether prohibited. 
But if they are ancient works written by Gentiles, they are per- 
mitted, on account of the elegance and propriety of their speech; 
though they must on no account be read to children." And yet their 
appreciation of classical models has a higher purpose; they should 
lead to a better understanding of the sacred texts. In cathedral 
churches, when a reader in Scripture cannot be afforded, there 
should at least be "a master, appointed by the bishop, ... to teach 
'grammar 5 gratis to the clergy, and also to poor scholars; so that 
they may with the grace of God, pass on to the study of Holy 
Writ." "Grammar," which should be taken in a broad sense, is also 
part of the syllabus of the new seminaries which are to be created 
in each diocese: as well, it is true, as singing and reckoning. 
Altogether, the council's wish to maintain classical culture cannot be 
doubted (the learned Giulio Poggiani was specially entrusted with 
the task of "polishing up" the Canones et Decreta), possibly out of 
respect for the spirit of the age, but more probably to fulfil the pur- 
pose of the Christian humanists, and turn the Renaissance to a reli- 
gious use. 

* * # 

There ^as obviously no reason why the Fathers should have added 
to the Canones et Decreta considerations of a sentimental kind, ex- 



THE COUNCIL OF TRENT 93 

pressing the moral ideal which animated them; the latter chiefly 
appears in the rules which they laid down for the welfare of the 
Church. Nor was their work of a random or haphazard nature. 
They went on a very definite plan, which is never declared as such, 
but which unmistakably emerges from the Canoncs et Decreta taken 
as a whole: that of strengthening the authority of 1 the hierarchy, 
both secular and regular, in conjunction with that of the papacy. 
The two might, on first glance, seem to be antagonistic; and no 
doubt many of the Fathers, still imbued with the prejudices of the 
conciliar party, tended to look askance at papal overlordship; while 
many curialists might consider episcopal independence as an undue 
limitation of the papal prerogative. That both were, however, mis- 
taken was soon made clear. Neither the bishops without the support 
of the Holy See, nor the pope unaided by the bishops, could deal 
satisfactorily with the abuses. Mutual correction and mutual help 
were wanted; and such were, in fact, the lines on which the council 
went, establishing a firm interdependence between a purified papacy 
and a purified episcopacy. 

Taking the decrees as a whole, they bring about a general clarify- 
ing and disentangling of the various jurisdictions. There are to be 
two of these only, saving the superior rights of the Holy See: that 
of the bishop within his diocese, and that of the head of an order 
within the same. The bishop is to be untrammelled by the number- 
less individual privileges which up till then had set his authority at 
naught. No one is to preach without his license, be he secular or 
regular. In regard to visitation and the correction of manners, his 
rights are absolute; nor can his action be stopped by any exemption 
or appeal, even to Rome; he is expected to visit his whole diocese 
every two years, including his own cathedral chapter, all hospitals, 
colleges, and brotherhoods; also such religious houses as are not 
visited by the head of an order, and all benefices, secular and reg- 
ular, with or without cure of souls, even those held in commendam 
or exempt; nor can the canons, archdeacons, and deans under him 
exercise similar powers without his permission. His jurisdiction does 
not merely extend to all seculars, but also in a number of cases to 
religious persons as well, especially those who live outside their 
monasteries. The provision according to which he alone can allow 
other than parish priests to hear confessions is obviously meant 
chiefly for regulars; and his authority over women's convents is 



94 THE CATHOLIC REFORMATION 

shown by his right to send to them confessors extraordinary. 

The Trentine legislation makes the bishop supreme in the matter 
of ordination or the conferring of benefices. He is warned, in a 
decree of great literary and spiritual beauty, "to rebut the vicfcs of 
all his subjects, and mainly to take care, lest there should exist 
scandalous clerics, especially if appointed to the cure of souls." 
Therefore, he has a right to select candidates to minor orders, to 
send those who aspire to the priesthood to universities or seminaries, 
and to examine them before ordaining them, which ordination he 
must confer himself. On the other hand, should he interdict a 
priest, his decision is final; and if a priest has been ordained with- 
out his consent, he has a right to suspend him. He alone is en- 
titled to confer orders within his diocese. Bishops in partibus are 
debarred from trespassing upon this privilege; and abbots and other 
exempt prelates, colleges, or chapters are forbidden to confer the 
tonsure, or allow anyone, through letters dimissory, to receive holy 
orders. As for candidates to benefices, whoever may have presented 
them, be it even a papal nuncio, they are not to be admitted, "even 
on accotint of any privilege, or custom, even immemorial," if they 
have not been examined and found worthy by the ordinary of the 
place. Besides, the same has a right to check all titles to patronage 
acquired within the last forty years, even through the authority of 
the Holy See, and, if he do not find them lawful, to revoke them. 

Thus the bishops are allowed to take action, even in cases in which 
they may seem to infringe the privileges of the Holy Sec; nor would 
they enjoy the necessary authority, if they did not have superior 
powers delegated by the pope. That they are deemed to have them 
is clear, since they are repeatedly mentioned as acting "tanquam 
a Sede Apostolica delegati," as the delegates of the Apostolic See. As 
for the papacy itself, it relinquishes the use of its right to interfere 
with the lower degrees of jurisdiction, and is content to be the head 
of the hierarchy, and the supreme court of appeal. Thus limited, its 
rights are maintained in the frequently used phrase, "salva Sanctae 
Sedis auctaritate" saving the authority of the Holy See. The pope 
retains his powers as the chief authority in the Church. He alone is 
to weigh the merits of those proposed by provincial councils for the 
episcopate, and to appoint bishops, though the council gravely ad- 
monishes him "to put at the head of the several churches good and 
capable pastors; and this the more so as our Lord will call him to 



THE COUNCIL OF TRENT 95 

account for the blood of Christ's sheep, that will perish through the 
evil government of pastors remiss and forgetful of their duty." But 
in regard to that gigantic system of administration and taxation 
through the Curia, which the Avignon popes had perfected, which 
superseded the authority of the hierarchy and drew everything up 
to Rome, the council fells it to the ground at one blow. "The Holy 
Council decides that provisions and expectative graces will not be 
granted henceforth to any one . . . even by the name of indults, or 
for a fixed sum, or for any other reason whatsoever." The rejection of 
papal exemptions is even more severe: "Since it is known that the 
privileges and exemptions, which are granted to many on various 
accounts, give rise to perturbations in the jurisdiction of the Church, 
and afford to exempt clerics an occasion of loose living," all those 
who have been granted honorary titles by the Holy See, if they are 
not actually resident in the Curia, are to remain subject to the 
authority of the ordinary. 

In fact, no part of the Church whether secular or regular, is now 
to claim dependence upon the papacy as a means of withdrawing 
itself from the normal system of jurisdiction. All those monasteries 
which used to be governed "under the immediate protection and 
direction of the Apostolic See" must now be formed into diocesan 
or provincial orders, with their general chapters, and their own 
visitors; or if they fail to do so, they are again to fall under the 
authority of the ordinary. The same tightening and concentration 
of discipline which the council has brought about in the secular 
field is also to take place among the regulars. The latter are forbid- 
den to attach themselves, without license from their superiors, to 
any prelate, prince, university, or community. If they leave their 
houses without permission, they are to be punished by the ordinary. 
The transfer of monks from order to order, which allows of 
"wandering about and apostatizing," i.e., returning to secular life, 
is not to be allowed. The heads of orders are enjoined to visit the 
monasteries and priories placed under them; nor can local superiors 
refuse their visitation. Secular and regular functions are not hence- 
forth to be confused: poor prebends in a cathedral chapter may be, 
if necessity compel, united with benefices in the diocese, but on no 
account are these to be regular. A canon henceforth is not allowed 
to be at the same time an abbot or a prior. 

The independence of cathedral chapters and their assumption of 



96 THE CATHOLIC REFORMATION 

episcopal powers had been the cause of long-standing differences, 
even inside the council itself. The decrees, duly weighing the claims 
of both parties, make the bishop supreme: "He is to be shown 
honour consonant with his dignity, to occupy in the choir, chapter 
or processions, and other public acts, the place which he has chosen, 
and to have the chief authority there as to what is to be done." Yet 
he is to take the advice of the canons, especially in the matter of 
trials, in which they form a sort of judicial court. At the same time, 
cathedral chapters, which had been a hotbed of abuses, must now 
agree to be cleansed. "The dignities in churches, and especially 
cathedrals," one of the decrees runs, "have been instituted towards 
the maintenance and augmentation of ecclesiastical discipline, so 
that those who obtain them may excel in their piety, be examples 
to others, and help the bishops with their services." They must ac- 
cordingly be fit for such a task; they ought to be at least twenty-five 
years of age, and commendable through their learning and virtue. 
All bartering of canonries, all promises made by candidates to pay 
for their prebends out of the revenues, are declared simoniacal and 
forbidden. Canons are not allowed to absent themselves from their 
churches for more than three months each year; they are requested 
to take part in the divine service in person, not through deputies, 
and to sing in the choir. Similar rules apply to the prebendaries in 
collegiate or parish churches. 

As for cathedral chapters, so for all beneficiaries. The restoration 
of episcopal jurisdiction necessarily carried along with it the 
restoration of discipline. To begin with, pluralities share the fate of 
exemptions: "Many," says the council, "thereto driven by insatiable 
covetousness, and deceiving themselves, though not God, have 
through various tricks eluded wise rules, and blush not to own 
several benefices together." This is now to be strictly forbidden, even 
to cardinals, at least in cases where residence is necessary. Then, 
again, benefices are not to be conferred except "upon worthy and 
capable persons, who are able to reside, and perform their duties 
by themselves." They may be granted to young men who have re- 
ceived the tonsure or minor orders, the minimum age being fixed 
at fourteen; but in such cases, they are to be considered as a means 
to support the incumbent, while he is preparing for the priesthood 
after being first examined by the bishop at a university or 
elsewhere; nor can he be otherwise entitled to the privileges of the 



THE COUNCIL OF TRENT 97 

clerical state. In no case is a benefice to be considered as an heirloom, 
to be bequeathed by the holder; even the coadjutor of a bishop or 
abbot is not to count upon his succession. If a parish is to be pro- 
vided with a priest, the bishop alone, in spite of all privileges, even 
granted by Rome, is to find candidates, and to bring them before a 
board of examiners of unimpeachable honesty, appointed by himself. 

One of the main cares of the Council of Trent was the recruiting 
of a thoroughly qualified clergy, and the keeping out of undesirable 
persons. Hence the fulness of the canons bearing upon ordination. 
At the time, many priests were unprovided with decent means of 
sustenance, and wandered about in search of employment. "It is not 
fitting," the council declares, "that those who are called up to the 
divine ministry should, to the dishonour of their order, go begging, 
or earn their livelihood through some vile trade"; and therefore all 
candidates for the priesthood, unless they can depend upon their 
personal income, should be provided with a benefice; and all those 
who are promoted to holy orders, whether subdeacons, deacons, or 
priests, should be appointed to a definite function. Minor orders are 
only to be granted to those who appear worthy to rise higher, and 
who know Latin; a subdeacon must be at least twenty-two years 
of age, a deacon twenty-three, a priest twenty-five; this also applying 
to regulars, who must be examined by the bishop. One year's diaco- 
nate is necessary before priestly ordination; nor should anyone be 
chosen for the latter unless he knows all that is needed for preach- 
ing and the administration of sacraments, and "is thus noted for his 
piety and chaste conversation, that an excellent pattern of good 
works, and an exemplary life, may be expected from him." 

Lastly, the upbringing of future priests is not henceforth to be left 
to chance; and here we come to the most original and probably the 
most important creation of the council, that of the seminaries. These 
are to be veritable "nurseries" for the clergy, in which likely boys 
will be trained from the age of twelve in the practice of virtue and 
piety. The regulations and the syllabus are outlined by the council; 
but the details of the organization are left entirely in the hands of 
the bishop. The sons of poor families are to be admitted in prefer- 
ence to rich boys. The pupils are to be divided into classes, and to 
study the liberal arts grammar, reckoning, singing, etc. as well 
as Scripture, the Fathers, and liturgy; to attend Mass every day, and 
to go to confession and Communion at least once every month. The 



98 THE CATHOLIC REFORMATION 

professors must be doctors, masters, or licenciates in Holy Writ or 
canon law, or at least fully qualified. There is to be one seminary 
or more in each diocese, and considerable attention is granted to the 
financing of the whole system. Revenues already devoted to the 
education of the clergy are to be turned over to the new institutions. 
In addition to this, there is to take place a general levy on all bene- 
fices without exception, whatever their nature, degree, privileges, or 
exemptions. Such bishops as fail to comply with these provisions 
may be deprived of their revenues. 

It was not enough, however, to take steps for the education of the 
priests of the future. There were crying abuses in the life of the 
clergy, clamouring for immediate correction. The council deals with 
them with a firm hand. All persons in orders, all the holders of 
ecclesiastical benefices or dignities are requested to wear clerical 
dress, failing which they will be punished with suspension, or in 
case of relapse, with deprivation. Drastic action is taken against 
concubinary priests; the council hits them in the right place by de- 
priving them, first of part, and then if they do not amend their 
lives, of the whole, of their ecclesiastical incomes, and of the right 
to occupy any charge or benefice; eventually they may be cast into 
prison. The right of punishing concubinary bishops is reserved for 
the pope. Especial attention is granted by the council to the vice of 
covetousness. "Since the ecclesiastical order must be free from any 
suspicion of avarice," no money is to be taken by bishops for the 
conferring of orders, or any of the ceremonies therewith connected; 
even spontaneous gifts are to be refused. The same applies to visita- 
tions, to the appointment of canons, and to the examination of 
future parish priests. The letting of Church property is severely 
forbidden. 

And thus we are brought round again to those abuses born of 
greed, which led to the encouragement of superstition by unscru- 
pulous dealers in holy things, and were at least the immediate cause 
of the Lutheran revolt. The council shows no leniency towards those 
who had well-nigh brought about the downfall of the Church. One 
of the very first decrees passed in its early sessions is directed against 
the quaestorcs eleemosynarii, commonly known as quaestuarii, who 
went about begging for alms in the name of saints whose interces- 
sion they promised to the donors, and hawking indulgences; they 
are henceforth absolutely forbidden to preach. A further decree does 



THE COUNCIL OF TRENT 99 

away with them altogether. The burning question of indulgences is 
dealt with in the same spirit. The right of the Church to proclaim 
them is maintained, within the limits "of moderation, and custom"; 
but "the wicked gains obtained from those who acquired them, from 
which has sprung among the Christian people the source of mani- 
fold abuses, are altogether to be suppressed." As for other corrup- 
tions, "due to superstition, ignorance, irreverence, or other causes," 
they are to be firmly corrected by the bishops and provincial coun- 
cils. The decree on the abuse of images is worthy of especial atten- 
tion. The people are to be taught that statues and pictures have no 
divine character in themselves. "All superstition in the invocation 
of saints, in the veneration of relics, in the use of holy images, must 
be done away with; all shameful gain must be removed; all lasciv- 
iousness must be avoided; so that no images of a wanton beauty be 
painted or represented; and that in the celebration of saints' days, 
or in the visit of relics, people fall not into the abuse of orgy and 
drunkenness." Just as the worship of saints ought not to be an 
occasion for greed, pious foundations should not be turned into a 
commercial enterprise. The will of testators, "in regard to prayers, 
alms and works of piety," ought to be executed, not perfunctorily, 
but with earnestness and devotion. 

The above is enough to give some idea of the vast scope of the 
task accomplished at Trent; and yet many points have been left in 
the dark. The corrective, the properly reforming side of the council's 
work has perforce been insisted on. Its constructive side can barely 
be mentioned here. Much was done for the redistribution of par- 
ishes, and the relief of poor prebends and benefices. Regulations 
were laid down for tithes and mortuaries, for marriage dispensations,* 
and for the registration of weddings and christenings. Bishops and 
priests were emphatically reminded of the duty of preaching, and 
of preaching sound doctrine; this being the link between the disci- 
plinary and the theological labours of the council. For it should not 
be forgotten that much time was devoted to the defining of dogma, 
and the refuting of heresy; as in the matters of original sin, justifica- 
tion, the sacraments, and purgatory. This, however, mostly consisted 
in reasserting tenets already affirmed by previous councils. It helped 
considerably in the work of Catholic reformation, by providing a 
firm intellectual basis. But it was not its most original element, and 
we need not enlarge upon it at length. 



ioo THE CATHOLIC REFORMATION 

Taking things all in all, there appears, in the Trentine Canones 
ct Decreta, a striking combination of spiritual ardour and earnest- 
ness, and of temperate, sober reasonableness; as, for instance, in the 
regulations referring to public worship. There should be in churches, 
we read, "nothing disorderly, nothing arranged preposterously or 
hurriedly, nothing profane, nothing indecent; for holiness is fitting 
in the House of God." And the spirit of the council's work, which is 
also the spirit of Christian humanism, is expressed fully in the 
decree concerning Mass. In its celebration, three things should be 
avoided at all costs: greed or all that savors of simony; irreverence 
the ministration of unworthy priests, lascivious music, profane or 
vain talking, walking about in church, loud noises or crying; super- 
stition unwarranted rites, the use of a fixed number of Masses or 
candles which has its origin in superstitious worship rather than in 
true religion. Holiness and decency: how truly Christian, and yet 
how different from the rough-and-tumble of the Middle Ages, from 
their easy familiarity with holy things, from their lack of self- 
restraint, from their truculent crudity. Indeed, the temperate wis- 
dom of classical antiquity had left its mark upon the Catholic 
Reformation; it had brought to it a colour and a temper of its own. 

* * * 

Though the council had covered considerable ground, it could 
not, by its own means, complete the task it had begun. For one 
thing, there was no reason why the work of reformation undertaken 
by the Holy See as early as the days of Adrian VI should fall into 
abeyance while the assembly sat; and in fact the popes kept up their 
battle against abuses, with varying fortunes, throughout the dura- 
tion of the sittings at Trent; nor did they wish to let the Fathers 
interfere with the reform of the Curia, which they repeatedly re- 
served for themselves. Then, again, the council was not an execu- 
tive body: it could lay down principles, but not apply them. The 
enforcement and interpretation of the decrees necessarily rested with 
the papacy. Lastly, on a good many points, though the way had been 
pointed out at Trent, no definite steps had been taken. It was left 
to the popes to fill in the general framework. We shall not here de- 
scribe at large their protracted fight against the many-headed hydra 
of Roman corruptions. The essential is that it was conducted on lines 
strikingly parallel with the action of the council. Among some fifty 
reforming briefs issued by Pope Julius III, in the course of the years 



THE COUNCIL OF TRENT 101 

1550 to 1554, more than half are concerned with monastic discipline; 
a number deal with exempt bodies; others enforce the wearing of 
clerical dress, set limits to the use of interdict, recast the Dominican 
liturgy, take steps against vagrant monks and nuns, forbid the 
cession of benefices, and otherwise emulate the Trentine legislation. 
There is something admirable, and occasionally pathetic, in the 
ups-and-downs of the papal struggle against abuses, especially dur- 
ing the long interval between the second and the third periods of 
the council, under the pontificate of Paul IV. This pope was a 
worthy successor of Adrian VI, and undertook a root-and-branch 
reformation of the Curia and of the Church in the papal states. He 
was not content with issuing regulations, he actually enforced them, 
irrespective of all personal considerations or interests. The police were 
let loose against the vagrant monks in Rome; one hundred of them 
were arrested, part of these again being imprisoned or condemned 
to the galleys. It was found that one hundred and thirteen bishops 
were present in the Curia; a dozen of them only, who had duties 
there, were allowed to remain; the others had to rejoin their dioceses 
under pain of deposition. The pope's own nephews, who occupied 
high posts in his court, had shown themselves unworthy of his trust 
and perpetuated the scandalous abuses of previous times; they were 
deprived of all their dignities, turned out of Rome, and reduced to 
misery. Paul IV's main purpose was the total suppression of simony 
in every shape and form. He resolutely overrode the usual objection 
to reform, namely that the impoverishment of the Holy See which 
was sure to follow would no longer allow it to make its weight felt 
m international politics. He compelled the Datary to deliver graces 
gratis, and to make up for the loss, reduced his expenses and those of 
the cardinals. He was prepared to fulfil his reforming designs, he 
said, "even at the peril of his own life." He prevented by all possible 
means the traffic in benefices. He was an austere and rigid moralist, 
and succeeded in purifying the life of Rome by his legislation against 
lewd women, usurers, comedians, and buffoons. He even went so 
far as to forbid hunting and dancing an unwise and unfortunate 
reaction, though one which can be understood, against the laxity, of 
the Renaissance. Even when enfeebled by disease and urged by rela- 
tives and friends to compromise with the times, he stood firm; and 
there is no doubt that his action achieved notable results, and greatly 
strengthened that of the council. 



iO2 THE CATHOLIC REFORMATION 

Paul IV's successor, Pope Pius IV, was of a less thoroughgoing 
temperament, and more inclined to further the fortunes of his rela- 
tives. However, the most striking instance of nepotism which he 
gave led to the most beneficial results, and ensured the permanency 
of the Catholic Reformation. Soon after his accession he was well- 
advised enough to appoint his nephew, Charles Borromeo (1538- 
1584), to the Secretaryship of State (1559). The young man, then 
only twenty-one, belonged to a noble family of Milan, and though 
devout and serious-minded, showed a partiality for pomp and sump- 
tuousness at the outset. He was sobered, however, by the death of his 
brother, Federigo (November 19, 1562), in whom rested the hopes 
of secular aggrandizement of the Borromei. He refused to step into 
his brother's place as head of the family, and resolved to strike a 
more religious course. After going through the Spiritual Exercises 
of St. Ignatius, he took priest's orders and reduced his life to asce- 
tical simplicity, much to the disappointment of the party of abuses, 
who were already beginning to hold up their heads anew. The part 
he took in directing the debates of the council from Rome has been 
pointed out above. No sooner had they been concluded, and the 
decrees issued, than he began to apply them wherever his authority 
extended, that is to say, mostly in the papal states, thus setting up 
an example to the whole of Christendom. His work of reformation 
in the Eternal City proceeded much on the same lines as under 
Paul IV, and it would be tedious to rehearse once more the various 
steps taken for the uprooting of simony, the visitation of churches, 
the cleansing of the Curia. The change in the atmosphere of Rome 
was noted by visitors. Fortune-seekers no longer flocked there; the 
cardinals led a more austere life; various societies were founded for 
the relief of the poor and for the education and protection of young 
girls; regulations were issued against excessive luxury, the pope 
himself, in August, 1564, dismissing over four hundred superfluous 
courtiers. The reform of religious orders was undertaken anew, and 
what was most important of all, seminaries were founded, largely 
under the guidance of the Jesuits. 

Borromeo, who had been created archbishop of Milan, had long 
besought the pope to let him return to his see, according to the duty 
of residence; but Pius IV was not to be moved. His successor Pius 
V, however (elected on January 8, 1566), gave the necessary permis- 
sion. Charles had already undertaken, from distant Rome, to rejuve- 



THE COUNCIL OF TRENT 103 

nate his diocese in strict accordance with the Trentine decrees. He 
now complied with the regulations on provincial and diocesan 
synods, and held seven of the former at regular intervals, and eleven 
of the latter. He set up three seminaries at Milan, and three more, for 
younger boys, inside the diocese. He had first of all asked the Jesuits 
to provide the staff; but as they were reluctant to continue, he 
founded a new order of his own, on the model of the Society, but 
limited to his archdiocese, that of the Oblates of St. Ambrose. They 
were a company of secular priests, who took vows to devote them- 
selves wholly to the archbishop's service and to afford him help 
wheresoever he should need it. Charles Borfomeo also established a 
Society of the Schools of the Christian Doctrine, which in its turn 
created seven hundred and forty schools. His helper in his work of 
reform was a simple priest, Niccolo Ormaneto, who had been 
trained under Giberti, and had accompanied Pole to England; 
being thus a link between the older generation of Christian human- 
ists, and that of the Council of Trent. 

The task of the papacy and its helpers would have been much 
simpler if the decrees had been complete in themselves and all ready 
for enforcement. Such was not the case. In order that the reforming 
legislation might be made available for the whole of the Church, it 
had first of all to be confirmed by the Holy See, according to the 
express request of the council. This gave rise to more difficulties than 
might at first sight be expected. The officials of the Curia, whose 
incomes were threatened by a decrease of the appeals to Rome, tried 
to brake down the impulse, or at any rate to obtain mitigations. 
Pius IV wholly disregarded their opposition, and in a bull dated 
January 26, 1564, but really issued on June 30, confirmed the decrees 
in the most unlimited fashion. At the same time he forbade the 
publishing of all commentaries and annotations upon them without 
the consent of the Holy See, and reserved their interpretation for 
the latter. This provision ensured uniformity in the application of 
the decrees, and disposed of the Gallican claim, according to which 
the pope was inferior to the council, and subject to its enactments. 
In order to deal with the numerous practical questions which were 
sure to arise, Pius IV created a commission of cardinals, later to be 
known as the important congregation of the council, whose powers, 
however, did not extend to the dogmatic field. 

The work of the Trentine assembly was continued in many direc- 



104 THE CATHOLIC REFORMATION 

tions under the pontificates of Pius IV and of his successor Pius V. 
The first Index of prohibited books had been compiled under Paul 
IV. It was unduly severe, and had given rise to many protests. In the 
council it was pointed out that many of the condemned writings 
were indispensable for literary or scholarly studies. Accordingly a 
commission specially appointed for the purpose undertook the cor- 
rection of the Index. Whereas the works of Erasmus had previously 
been rejected en bloc, a distinction was now made between them, 
and Boccacio was only forbidden pending emendation. After the 
close of the council the Trentine Index was again examined ,m 
Rome, and published by a papal brief of March 24, 1564. 

The Fathers at Trent had also been anxious, as early as 1546, to 
draft a catechism, or rather two catechisms, one in Latin for the 
learned, and one in the vernacular for the unlettered and the young. 
They only addressed themselves to the former task. In the years 
that followed, a model was supplied by the catechism of Peter Can- 
isius, composed at the request of the Emperor Ferdinand. When 
the assembly broke up, however, the new manual of doctrine had 
not been completed. A commission of theologians was appointed at 
Rome to put it into final shape, while the humanist, Gmlio Pog- 
giani, was to polish its Latin. Eventually, the Roman catechism was 
published, but only under Pius V. Soon after, it was translated into 
Italian, German, French, Polish, and Spanish. 

While the council had simplified and harmonized the whole sys- 
tem of Church jurisdiction, it brought the same spirit to bear on the 
reform of the liturgy in the Missal and the Breviary. The latter 
especially had become unduly lengthy, entangled, and overloaded 
with lives of saints, many of them apocryphal or fantastic and 
couched in wretched Latin. Little room was left for readings from 
the Scriptures, and there was no clear system of directions for the 
ordering of prayers. All these things were obnoxious to the Fathers 
at Trent, who, true to the traditions of Christian humanism, made 
the meditation on the Gospel the centre of their devotion, and be- 
lieved in the applying of textual and historical criticism even to 
sacred documents. Accordingly, after rejecting the Breviary of the 
Spanish cardinal, Quinones (1535), in which correction had overshot 
its mark, they chose as a model that which the Theatine, Gian- 
Pietro Carafa the future Pope Paul IV had compiled for the use 
of his order. Here again they were to leave their task unfinished, and 



THE COUNCIL OF TRENT 105 

it was to wait for completion until the days of Pius V. The revised 
Breviary was published at last by a bull of July 9, 1568, and the 
revised Missal by another bull of July 14, 1570. In the former many 
incredible episodes, and even certain feasts, were sacrificed as un- 
authentic, while Giulio Poggiani ensured the stylistic quality of the 
Latin. The Council of Trent had prescribed a similar work of puri- 
fication on the text of the Vulgate, and in 1561 the printer, Paulus 
Manutius, was called up to Rome to prepare correct editions of the 
Bible and the Fathers of the Church. However, the Vork dragged 
on all through the pontificates of Pius IV and Pius V, and the 
Vatican edition of the Vulgate was not published by Pope Clement 
VIII, until November 9, 1612. 



Such were the lines along which the work of the council devel- 
oped and fructified. Unfortunately, out of the papal states, one 
major obstacle stood in its way, in the shape of the rights of patron- 
age which were in the hands of temporal sovereigns, and had been 
frequently condoned by the Holy See itself. Princes were wont to 
reward their servants, high and low, with the benefices they had in 
their gift, irrespective of the requirements of Church discipline; and 
thus they were responsible for exemptions, pluralities, and other 
abuses, no less than Rome herself. If they did not submit to the 
Trentine decrees, these would lose most of their efficiency. In fact, 
in its last sessions, the council had attempted the reform of princes, 
which it felt to be necessary. There was, however, such opposition 
on the part of the various sovereigns, some of them threatening 
schism, that it had to desist and be content with exhorting them. 
Now that the sittings were over, the only thing to do was to per- 
suade the civil power in each country to ratify the legislation passed 
at Trent. This was by no means an easy task, and in many cases the 
churches had to make shift to apply the decrees without any help at 
all from the temporal rulers. 

Things went smoothly enough in Italy. The various states of the 
Peninsula readily promulgated the Trentine decrees, foremost among 
them being Venice. But in other countries the same obstacles which 
had so long prevented the meeting of the council, now retarded its 
enforcement. Ferdinand's successor, the Emperor Maximilian II, 
persisted in Charles V's illusion that he would effect a religious 



io6 THE CATHOLIC REFORMATION 

pacification within his dominions by granting doctrinal and discipli- 
nary concessions to the Protestants; besides he wanted their help 
against the Turks. The Trentine legislation \yas too square-cut for 
him, and he therefore refused to let the decrees be confirmed at the 
Diet of Augsburg in 1566. Together with him a number of men in 
Germany and even in Rome formed what has been called the 
"irenical" party, and were prepared to meet the Protestants half- 
way; not realizing that in periods of moral and mental confusion, 
a determined and clearly defined policy acts as a rallying-point and 
as a heartening influence, whereas compromise is viewed by hostile 
extremists as the equivalent of weakness. The peacemakers were 
nevertheless inspired by the most praiseworthy motives. They 
thought that if the German laity were granted Communion under 
both kinds, Protestantism would lose most of its hold upon the 
people; while the marriage of priests would enable the German 
Church to tide over the dearth of qualified clergy. Pius V let him- 
self be persuaded to grant the cup to laymen within the Empire. 
No very definite results followed, and the concession was gradually 
allowed to drop and was finally cancelled in 1621. Meanwhile, how- 
ever, the Trentine decrees had not been ratified; nor was the Em- 
pire as a whole ever to endorse them afterwards. Happily, as early 
as 1566, the legate, Commendone, had induced the German Cath- 
olic princes, especially the duke of Bavaria, Cardinal Truchsess, 
bishop of Augsburg, Cardinal Mark Sittich von Hohenems, and the 
three ecclesiastical electors, besides others, to publish the legislation 
of the council within their states, and to undertake the work of 
reformation, which was soon to bear fruit in plenty. 

In France, objections were raised from the outset by the king and 
his supporters. The council was considered as having failed in its 
main purpose, since it had not brought about the reconciliation be- 
tween Protestants and Catholics which it had been counted upon to 
effect. The decrees could not be accepted, for they would incense 
the Calvinists, whom they had severely anathematized; besides, they 
forbade the holding of benefices in commendam, and made it im- 
possible for the sovereign to reward influential men whose help he 
needed. Lastly, national pride had been hurt by the precedence 
granted to the imperial ambassador. But the chief obstacles to the 
promulgation were twofold: on the one hand, while the whole of 
the French Church was agreed as to the necessity of the dogmatic 



THE COUNCIL OF TRENT 107 

decrees, there was no such unanimity on the question of the disci- 
plinary decrees; the cathedral chapters feared for their jurisdiction 
and privileges, and the poorer clergy viewed with alarm a condi- 
tion of things in which they would no longer be able to make up 
for the poverty of small benefices by holding several of them. There- 
fore in the States General, in the Church assemblies, the acceptance 
of the decrees was at first proposed with reservations. On the other 
hand the high court of judicature known in France as the Parlia- 
ment was imbued with the old Gallican and conciliar ideas, and 
though convinced of the necessity of the reformation, wished to 
effect it, not in the pope's name, but in that of the king; and their 
opposition to the Holy See became even more settled at the time of 
the controversy between King James I of England and Cardinal 
Bellarmine on the power of princes and the temporal claims of the 
papacy. Despite the pertinacious efforts of the papal legates during 
the forty years which followed the break-up of the council, it was 
never officially confirmed by the French sovereigns. 

The question had been mooted at the Church assembly at Melun 
in 1579, when it was, however, impossible to induce Henry III to 
grant the publication of the decrees in exchange for a subsidy. The 
States General of 1595, called up by the Catholic League, did pro- 
claim them, but in the absence of a lawful king. Meanwhile, the 
idea of reformation had been slowly gathering momentum, and the 
French clergy were more and more feeling that it behooved them, 
and not the temporal prince, to take a decision on purely spiritual 
matters. Therefore, at the Church assembly of 1615, they decided 
to act on their own responsibility, and subscribed a solemn declara- 
tion which "received" the Trentine decrees and promised compliance 
with them. This was in France the official beginning of the Cath- 
olic Reformation, which in fact had already been in progress for 
some time past, and which produced magnificent results in the 
spiritual, intellectual, and literary fields. And yet it was crippled by 
the king's refusal to join in. The abuses connected with benefices 
were perpetuated all through the seventeenth and eighteenth cen- 
turies. The entanglement of jurisdictions remained what it had 
been before Trent, and gave rise to scandalous quarrels, such as that 
which took place at Simorre in Gascony between 1713 and 1728, 
when the Benedictine monks of the local abbey forged several docu- 
ments in order to get possession of the priory of Sarrancolin, the gift 



io8 THE CATHOLIC REFORMATION 

of which was disputed between them and the Chapter of the Dau- 
rade in Toulouse; and again when monastic offices, considered as 
private property, were bitterly contended for by two opposing parties 
among the monks. It is hardly a paradox to repeat, in the words of 
the late Fr. Wernz, S.J., that the reform of the system of benefices 
according to the Trentine decrees was the meritorious work of the 
French Revolution. The method then used may appear somewhat 
too drastic; but undoubtedly the uprooting of time-honoured abuses 
proved a tonic for the Church in France. 

While the king of Portugal, writing to the pope on October 2, 
1564, promised "to observe the Decrees ... so as to ensure their 
undisputed and inviolate integrity," and forthwith signified as much 
to all his servants, things did not run so smoothly in Spain. King 
Philip II was in a paradoxical position: he considered himself as the 
most Catholic sovereign in Europe, and yet, rather than relinquish 
what he considered as his rights over the Church, he was willing to 
put off the enforcement of the Trentine legislation in his wide 
dominions of Spain, Naples, Milan, and America. After some shilly- 
shallying, he published the decrees on July 19, 1564, but with the 
proviso that this was "without prejudice to his royal rights." What 
he meant thereby clearly appeared in the long struggle which he 
waged against Pius IV and Pius V for the maintenance of ecclesias- 
tical powers scarcely inferior to those which Henry VIII of England 
had claimed a few decades before. Pius IV complained that Philip 
II had assumed the right of interpreting the Council of Trent, and 
that "he meant to be pope as well as king." In fact, the Spanish 
sovereign deemed himself entitled to withhold all papal bulls or 
briefs, even on purely spiritual matters, which he happened to dis- 
approve of, and allowed his clergy to appeal to the crown when 
threatened by any decision of the Holy See. This could not but per- 
petuate the abuses; in fact, in the kingdom of Naples, bishops were 
prevented from proceeding against laymen guilty of usury or con- 
cubinage, and no clerics were allowed to take possession of their 
benefices without royal permission. At Milan the chapter of Santa 
Maria della Scala, who badly needed reformation, tried, with the 
help of the governor and the senate of the town, to evade visitation; 
they slammed their door in the face of Archbishop Charles Bor- 
romeo, excommunicated his judicial officials, proclaimed solemnly 
that he had made himself liable to ecclesiastical penalties, and posted 



THE COUNCIL OF TRENT 109 

up their claims. These quarrels dragged on for many years, and had 
not yet ceased at the death of Pius V. 

In Poland it was touch-and-go whether the country would turn 
Protestant altogether; however, the able Nuncio Commendone suc- 
ceeded in persuading King Sigismund Augustus to accept the 
decrees personally on August 7, 1564, and was happy enough to wit- 
ness in 1565 a renewal of piety among the people. As to the Protes- 
tant countries proper, England especially, we shall later see how the 
Trentine spirit managed to permeate them, despite the anti-Catholic 
legislation. Altogether, the importance of the Council of Trent can 
scarcely be overestimated. It far transcends that of any other Church 
assembly, however notable. It was, in a way, the heir to the Renais- 
sance, for it borrowed from it all that was best in it, the classical 
ideal of order, reasonableness, temperate wisdom, fittingness, and 
decency, and applied it to its task of rejuvenating the huge, cum- 
brous, and entangled organization of the mediaeval Church. Its 
decrees are a model of clear, forceful thinking, and a model of liter- 
ary composition. They brought about a wonderful religious revival, 
both in Europe and out of Europe. Had they been applied every- 
where, the whole system of abuses in regard to benefices would have 
been done away with, and the French Revolution, which was largely 
a reaction against clerical opulence, might never have happened at 
all. It would be a mistake, however, to narrow down the Catholic 
Reformation to the enforcement of a set of rules. The Trentine 
legislation itself was but the outcome of a spiritual movement which 
had begun early in the century, and of which the most striking 
instance was the renewal of devotion and sacrifice among the older 
religious orders, and the foundation of new orders adapted to the 
needs of the times. 

BIBLIOGRAPHY 

The most complete, up-to-date, and reliable account of the Council of 
Trent is found in the continuation by Dom H. Leclercq of Cardinal 
Hergenroether's work, entitled in the French translation Histoirc dcs 
Conciles, Vols. IX, i, and IX, ii (Paris, 1930 and 1931), by P. Richard, 
covering the whole of the preparation and history of the council, and the 
completion of its work by Popes Pius IV and Pius V. Vol. X, now out 
(April, 1938), by A. Michel, deals with the dogmatic decrees. Among 
older works, P. Sfortia Pallavicino, Istoria del Concilia di Trento, 3 vols. 
(Roma, 1664), is extremely informative as to the religious and political 
debates in the council. The Lettres et mtmoires de Francois de Vargas 



no THE CATHOLIC REFORMATION 

touchant le concile de Trente (Amsterdam, 1700), give the imperial 
point of view. 

The Latin text of the decrees should be consulted, Sacrosancti & oecu- 
menici concilii Tridcntini Canones et Dccreta (numerous ed.; there are 
several English translations, notably by J. Waterworth [London, 1848] 
and by T. A. Buckley [London, 1851]); it provides a good deal of his- 
torical information as well. For the whole of the council and for the 
attitude of the various powers, refer to the excellent volumes of Ludwig 
von Pastor, History of the Popes, translated by Ralph Francis Kerr, 
Vols. XIII to XVII. For the enforcement of the decrees in Germany, and 
the struggle between the "irenical" and the intransigent parties, see G. 
Constant's bulky and intelligent work, Concession b I'Allemagne de la 
communion sous les deux especes, etude sur les debuts de la Rtforme 
catholique en Allemagne, (1548-1621), (Paris, 1923), and its supplement 
of documents. La legation du cardinal Morone pres I'Empereur et le con- 
cde de Trente (Paris, 1922). For the publication of the council in 
France, and the battle between the Gallican Parliament and the Church, 
see Victor Martin, Le Gallicanisme et la Rtjorme catholique (Paris, 
1919), and the documents published in the same author's Les Negocta- 
tions du nonce Silingardi (1599-1601) (Paris, 1919). For the period 
generally, sec Fernand Mourret, Histoire generate de I'Eglise, Vol. V, 
La Renaissance et la RSforme (Paris, 1929), which however should not 
be trusted in every detail. 

The incidents at Simorre are related in two unpublished articles by 
G. de Carsalade du Pont, Notice biographique sur Dom Louis Clement 
Brugellcs, and UAbbaye de Simorre au XVIII* siecle, which we have 
been privileged to read in the manuscript, thanks to the courtesy of the 
author. 



CHAPTER VI 



The Religious Revival Among the Regulars 



IT SHOULD again be emphasized here: the Council of Trent 
was indeed a dividing-line and a starting-point, but it was not a 
sudden revolution. The men who drafted the decrees were most 
of them elderly; their ecclesiastical careers had generally begun early 
in the century; they had been engaged in reforming work for ten, 
twenty, or thirty years. Girolamo Vida, the exemplary bishop of 
Alba, for instance, was the same man who had gained the favour 
of Leo X by his literary accomplishments. 

At the very time when the Church is supposed to have been most 
corrupt, Rome itself was fermenting with devotion and charity. 
There is no better proof of this than the revival of spiritual life 
among the regulars, who through the influence they exerted both 
upon the secular clergy and upon the laity, created the necessary 
atmosphere and provided the necessary driving force for the Cath- 
olic Reformation. This was performed to some extent by the older 
orders, some of which did their best to get rid of the abuses which 
disgraced them. In their case, however, the initiative frequently 
rested with the papacy. Not so with the new orders, those of the 
Theatines, the Oratorians, and above all, the Jesuits; for whatever 
favour they may have later enjoyed from the Holy See, the merit of 
their creation must rest with their founders. These were far-sighted 
men, who had specially in view the needs of the times. They really 
took the lead in the reforming movement, and played a decisive part. 

Yet in regard to the origin of both the older and newer orders, 
the beginnings were the same. Reference has already been made to 
those pious brotherhoods which were founded in several parts of 
Italy, as early as the last years of the fifteenth century. A more im- 
portant foundation of the same type appeared at Rome some time 



H2 THE CATHOLIC REFORMATION 

before 1517, in connection with the renewal of religious fervour 
which was brought about by the Lateran Council. It was called 
Compagnia ovvero Oratorio del Divino Amore the Oratory of 
Divine Love. It was not a numerous body, nor did it seek to increase 
its numbers much. There was an intimate quality about it. The at- 
tention of its members was turned inward. Their idea was that the 
best way to spread reformation abroad was to begin it in themselves, 
through pious exercises, through prayer and exhortation, through 
frequent confession and Communion, and through the performance 
of works of charity. Humble and modest, they merely wished to set 
a good example. Their retiring temper, contemplative rather than 
militant, was that of the Christian humanists, several of whom, like 
Sadolet, belonged to the Oratory. They were extremely fond of 
classical antiquity, the only known monument that recalls their 
memory being a font in the shape of an ancient sacrificial altar. 
Altogether, morally, socially, and intellectually, their body, which 
rose to the number of fifty or sixty, was distinguished and aristo- 
cratic. It was soon joined by two men of widely differing character, 
who were both of them to exert a deep influence on the future of 
the Church, Gaetano di Thiene and Gian-Pietro Caraffa. 

The former's upbringing and temper were quite in keeping with 
the spirit of the Oratory. He was the son of a noble family of 
Vicenza, where he was born about 1480. He was brought up, his 
chief biographer says, hberahter et ingenue, as befits a man of rank. 
He studied at Padua and became a scholar, a doctor m civil and 
canon law, and then turned to philosophy and theology. He had 
been early noted for his charitableness and for his piety, which was 
of a mystical kind. He "chose secret places to meditate on divine 
things." He had visions, notably one in which he was allowed to 
carry the infant Christ in his arms. The Oratory of Divine Love 
suited him admirably. That it should also have attracted Gian-Pietro 
Caraffa casts light on the devotional possibilities even of strong, 
active characters. Caraffa, who had been born in 1476 and belonged 
to a noble family of Naples, had early proved his combative zeal by 
escaping from the parental home at the age of fourteen to join the 
Dominicans. He was prevented from achieving his purpose, and 
became an official in the Curia. .He lived chastely and purely 
throughout the scandalous pontificate of Alexander VI. He was en- 
trusted by Julius II with several diplomatic missions, and in Eng- 




ST. Ir.NATii's LOYOLA --- Founder o| the 

Jesuits, the "duel instrument ol the 

Catholic Reformation." 



ST. FKINCIS DI. SALTS His dominant 

leature the quality ot case, ol 

natural nes.,, ol lihertv. 




I'HOMAS MOJO (Jieatest ol 
Christian humanists. 



ST. CHAKI.LS BORROMLO Persuaded his 

Hock "that all must henceforth 

embrace a new life." 




Pop* Li-o X (by Raphael) Within limits 

Ins policy seems wise and full ot foresight. 

Hut "policy" was not enough. 



POIM GRK-ORY Xlll (lifted with practical 

sense, and a born organi/er, he earned lor- 

ward the reforms of Trent. 




POPI-. PAUL IV Attempted to correct 

abuses without the Council of Trent. 

He failed through over-severity. 



POPJ ST. Pius V Ilis election was due 

solely to his virtues. He loved the 

truth, and hated dissemblers. 



RELIGIOUS REVIVAL AMONG THE REGULARS 113 

land made the acquaintance of Erasmus, whom he encouraged to 
publish the works of St. Jerome, and who in return praised his 
classical scholarship. Meanwhile he had been made bishop of Chieti 
in the Abruzzi, and set about the reformation of his diocese with 
a firm hand. He joined the Oratory in 1520 during a stay in Rome. 

These two men and their friends were to initiate the religious 
revival among the regulars. Both before and after they had struck 
a line of their own, they fostered the new spirit among the older 
orders. The latter were being leavened by small groups of the more 
eagerly devout among their members. As early as the reign of Leo 
X there was a movement afoot among the Camaldolese to seek 
peace and perfection in retirement. Paolo Giustiniani had created at 
Pascelupo, in the Apennines, and then at Massaccio, in the Marches, 
hermitages of a peculiar type: the monks lived there isolated in 
separate houses; the rule was very strict, and stress was laid on abso- 
lute solitude. The reform was continued and completed under 
Adrian VI, who for that purpose called to Rome Gian-Pietro 
Caraffa, a kindred spirit to his. The hermitages gradually developed 
into a new body, the centre of which was established at Monte 
Corona, in the higher valley of the Tiber, by Giustiniani da 
Bergamo. 

Various orders were similarly reformed, on the lines of the old 
rules and according to the primitive spirit of each, between the 
pontificate of Leo X and the Council of Trent. Caraffa's sister, with 
her brother's help, improved conditions among the Dominican nuns 
at Naples in 1530. The Dominican Order itself was only purged of 
Lutheran preachers and gyrovagi by two visitations, under Paul 
III, in 1543 and 1547. Early in the century Giles of Viterbo (Egidio 
Canisio), the outspoken orator of the Lateran Council and general 
of the Augustinian hermits, was at work among his own brethren. 
His efforts were bravely continued, two decades later, in accordance 
with the definite orders of Paul III, by his successor, the outstand- 
ing classical scholar Girolamo Seripando. He began in 1539 a gen- 
eral visitation of all the houses of his order, throughout Italy, France, 
Spain, and Portugal; but it took years to get rid of heretical ele- 
ments. As to the Franciscans, it was a case of a reform within a 
reform; the revival took place among the Observants, who them- 
selves had, in the course of the fourteenth and fifteenth centuries, 
seceded from the representatives of the original community, or Con- 



H4 THE CATHOLIC REFORMATION 

ventuals; and it eventually gave birth to a new order, that of the 
Capuchins, which however remained true to the Franciscan 
tradition. 

Under Leo X, the general of the Observants, Francesco Lichetto, 
had founded houses of recollection for those among the religious 
who wished to lead a stricter life; and as the movement spread, the 
members of the new communities had gained some independence 
and become known as Riformati. The real reformer of the Francis-^ 
cans, however, only appeared a little later; his name was Matteo da 
Bascio (1495-1552), a native of Umbna, where the memories of St. 
Francis of Assisi were liveliest. He first attracted public attention by 
his heroic behaviour during the plague at Camermo (1523 or 1524), 
and soon became the protege of Caterina Cibo, duchess of Camerino, 
the niece of Leo X and Clement VII, and of Vittona Colonna, two 
women of the Renaissance who joined fervent piety with elaborate 
classical scholarship and literary ability. Having returned to his 
convent of Montefalcone, Matteo, meditating among the solitary 
woods, felt a stronger and stronger impulse wholly to model his own 
life on that of St. Francis; this longing taking concrete shape in his 
resolve to wear a pointed hood or cappuccio similar to that which he 
believed to have been worn by the saint. He was soon joined by 
Lodovico and Raffaele da Fossombrone. The movement spread 
rapidly, but its career was a chequered one. The Observants con- 
sidered the secession as treachery, and succeeded in obtaining fiom 
several popes decisions in their favour, which hampered tlie recruit- 
ing or reduced the independence of the new order. Their complaints 
gained a readier hearing from the fact that Lodovico da Fossom- 
brone, now vicar-general of the Capuchins, had taken a defiant atti- 
tude towards the Chapter of 1535, and had had to be expelled; while 
his successor, Bernardino Ochino, went over to Calvinism in 1542, 
in the company of a number of his brethren. 

At the same time, as early as 1526, Carafa had taken the founders 
under his protection and secured for them some measure of freedom. 
Besides, the Capuchins soon gained popular favour by their em- 
inent virtues. They walked barefoot, slept on a plank, and fasted 
rigorously; their churches were utterly simple and unadorned, in 
contrast to those of the Theatines this being an illustration of the 
variety of religious tempers, and therefore of the spiritual richness of 
the Catholic Reformation. They were fearlessly devoted to the sick 



RELIGIOUS REVIVAL AMONG THE REGULARS 115 

during epidemics, and attracted crowds by their sermons. Mattco 
da Bascio, who held up a crucifix above the heads of the people 
while preaching, used to cry out: "To Hell with usurers, to Hell 
with concubinaries, and the same for the other vices'; such was his 
freedom when in the pulpit, that he spared no one, and was for 
that reason often despised by people of little sense," The Capuchins 
"preached Holy Writ, chiefly the holy Gospel of our Lord Jesus 
Christ." One recognizes here all the main features of Franciscan 
oratory, which was popular both in its violence and theatrical effects 
and in its genuine simplicity and homeliness. 

The Capuchins were the most vigorous offshoot of the older 
orders in the age of the Renaissance. Their merits were great, and 
their apostolic labours among the people were rewarded with un- 
doubted success. And yet, while they had been on the whole well 
adapted to the spiritual needs of the unsophisticated Middle Ages, 
they were not wholly fitted to cope with those of the sixteenth cen- 
tury. Something more was needed in a highly refined society, which 
had developed new intellectual and artistic cravings; where, besides, 
the influence of the aristocracy was such that the heads must be 
gained before any enduring work could be done. A new formula 
was required in the field of religious life. Many pious men were 
groping for it between 1520 and 1540. Their successive attempts 
were, on the whole, directed the same way, until they culminated in 
the most striking and lasting creation of the times, that of the Society 
of Jesus. Before the latter came into existence, however, some of its 
essential principles had already been applied in the various orders 
of clerks regular. 



In the case of the Theatines, the Somaschi, and the Barnabites, the 
idea at the back of the foundation is the same. The times, with their 
changed social and cultural conditions, called for something other 
than the old cloistered monasticism; they required active spreaders 
of the faith, who would indeed form organized and disciplined 
bodies, but who would mix with the world and deal with the world. 
Hence the double nature of the three orders of clerks regular here 
mentioned. Their members were true religious, who took the three 
vows of chastity, obedience, and poverty; their forsaking of worldly 
goods was even more absolute than that of the Franciscans, as a 



n6 THE CATHOLIC REFORMATION 

reaction against covetousncss, the mother of all evils in the Church; 
they were even forbidden to beg for alms and were to look for 
sustenance to God's Providence alone. They lived in common, and 
austerely too; they fasted and abstained from meat and mortified 
themselves. But they all wore the black cassock of secular priests; 
they all engaged in the same kind of outside work, and their apos- 
tolate, while first attending to the material needs of the sick, the 
poor, and the illiterate, found a way to their souls and raised them 
up towards God. Finally, they realized that the papacy alone could 
effect a thorough reformation, and therefore made themselves the 
direct helpers of the Holy See, upon which they immediately 
depended. 

Nevertheless, each of the three orders had its own history, which 
accounts for its definite personality. The Theatines were the con- 
tinuation of the Oratory of Divine Love, and retained the same 
character. Gaetano di Thiene, after seeking his true path from 1519 
to 1523 and after being compelled to leave Rome, had attempted to 
develop the action of the Oratory in provincial towns. He recon- 
structed and united two brotherhoods at Vicenza and Verona, and 
reorganized a hospital in Venice. He felt, however, that this was 
but nibbling at the great problem of reformation; that "the corrup- 
tion of manners and of souls, which had spread far and wide among 
the Christian people, was a greater evil than could be cured by the 
means or efforts of a mere brotherhood of secular priests, which 
besides could not last for ever." Hence his plan for a new order 
that would set up a model for the imitation of the secular clergy. 

The idea was imparted at first to Bonifazio da Colle, then to 
Gian-Pietro Carafa. The latter understood perfectly that all attempts 
at reformation would be futile unless the secular clergy were pro- 
vided with leaders that would carry them along; he enthusiastically 
declared his wish to join hands with Gaetano. His position as a 
bishop, however, stood in the way, and Gaetano was unwilling to 
accept him. And here follows a moving scene, in which both char- 
acters stand out strikingly: after many words had passed on both 
sides, Carafa, "suddenly falling down upon his knees, with a some- 
what angry and almost threatening countenance, affirmed that on 
Doomsday he would, in the presence of Christ his judge, ask 
Gaetano to render account of his soul, if he refused to admit him 
forthwith, from the turmoil of worldly cares, to the quiet of reli- 



RELIGIOUS REVIVAL AMONG THE REGULARS 117 

gious life. Then Gaetano . . . himself fell on his knees, and clasping 
him lovingly, said to him: 'My Lord, I shall never forsake you.'" 

In 1524, Clement VII allowed Carafa to give up his two bishoprics 
and issued a brief authorizing the new community of clerks regular. 
The latter were soon called Theatines, from Theate, the Latin name 
of Carafa's bishopric of Chieti. Although they were to do the work 
of secular priests, even to the length of taking charge of parishes, 
they retained the exclusiveness and aristocratic character of the Ora- 
tory of Divine Love. Two houses were founded besides that of 
Rome, at Naples and Venice, but the effectives of the order never 
rose very high. 

In 1533, there were twenty-one Theatines all told. However, 
Gaetano's purpose was not that they should swarm and spread, but 
that their communities should be fed by choice vocations, and 
become a nursery for leaders. In the words of Carafa's biographer, 
Caracciolo, they were not "seminaries for priests," but "seminaries 
for bishops" and in fact many of their members later belonged 
to the prelacy. The success of such a reduced phalanx is an instance 
of the driving power of small resolute bodies. Its influence was out 
of all proportion to its numbers. It represented the new spirit to 
such an extent in the eyes of the public that any strict moralist, any 
man with a reforming bent, came to be known as a Theatine. The 
new order enjoyed the friendship and support of many eminent men 
who longed for the purification of the Church. In Venice, it num- 
bered among its helpers Reginald Pole, Gasparmo Contarini, and 
Gregorio Cortese, the reformer of the Benedictines. In Rome, Giberti 
used to see Carafa daily. Tommaso Campeggio, who held the bish- 
opric of Feltre, but had not yet been consecrated, was moved by the 
latter's example to take a conscientious view of his duties, and to 
seek consecration at his hands. 

The origin and purpose of the Somaschi were somewhat different. 
They were founded about 1528 by a noble Venetian, Girolamo Miani 
(Hieronymus Aemilianus). He had first been an officer a brilliant 
and dissolute one too in the army of Venice. Two wonderful 
escapes which he had, the one from captivity and the other from a 
dangerous illness, turned his mind to spiritual things. Henceforth 
his life was wholly devoted to the care of the sick, the creation of 
orphanages, and the rescuing of fallen girls in various towns of 
northern Italy, including Milan. To help him in his work, he 



n8 THE CATHOLIC REFORMATION 

gathered a body of pious laymen, and established his headquarters 
near Bergamo, in the village of Somasca, which gave its name to 
the new community. Yet right up to Miani's death, which occurred 
in 1537, the Somaschi failed to turn into a religious order properly 
so called. They became one only in 1568, when Miani's successor 
Angelo Marco Cambarana obtained a brief of December 6 which 
settled their constitutions. Their particular name was that of "Clerks 
Regular of San Maiolo," which recalled the church which had been 
granted to them in Milan by Charles Borromeo. Their work was 
more particularly the relief of the poor. During the famine of 1528 
they reaped for themselves universal admiration. 

The third order of Clerks Regular if one goes by dates is 
that of the Barnabites, thus called from the church of San Barnaba 
in Milan, which they occupied from 1545 onwards, though their real 
name was that of Clerks Regular of Saint Paul. It was founded in 
1530 by Antonio Maria Zaccaria (1502-1539), a gentleman of Ver- 
ona, who had given up the study of medicine for theology and the 
priesthood; but his first two companions, Bartolomeo Ferrari and 
Jacopo Antonio Morizia, were, it should be noted, members of an 
earlier brotherhood, the Confraternity of Eternal Wisdom, which 
had been established in Milan by the French in 1500. In regard to 
place, the Barnabites belonged to the same circle of devotional feel- 
ing as the Somaschi; and as in the case of the latter, the leading 
thought of their founder was to repair the material and moral rums 
left by the disasters of the years 1528 and 1529. Their institute was 
approved by Paul III in 1535. They were most unlike the Theatines 
in their conquering spirit and their desire to expand. They devoted 
themselves especially to missions. Their sermons were popular and 
recalled those of the Franciscans. They used to hold up a crucifix 
to the people while addressing them; or to carry a heavy cross in 
church while beseeching God; or to wear a rope round their necks, 
and, thus attired, seek the most despised forms of employment. 
Their centre was Milan at first; Charles Borromeo esteemed them 
highly, joined their retreats, and chose his confessor among them. 
Afterwards they spread rapidly. They founded houses, which went 
by the name of colleges, establishing them in most parts of Italy, 
in France, in Germany, and Bohemia, and very largely brought 
the province of Beam back to the fold in the early seventeenth 
century. They also developed in a different way. They needed 



RELIGIOUS REVIVAL AMONG THE REGULARS 119 

female auxiliaries for the conversion and instruction of women 
in the course of their missions; therefore an association of pious 
ladies, known as the Congregation of the Holy Angels, or Angeliche, 
was founded in 1535 by Luigia Torelli to help them; but it re- 
mained confined to northern Italy. 



There is a striking contrast between the above-mentioned com- 
munities and two movements which appeared soon after, and which 
are by far the most original creations of the sixteenth century, 
those of the Oratorians and of the Jesuits. The Christian ideaj of 
all was of course the same, and individual varieties implied no 
mutual disapproval; yet, in their common wish of reformation 
they laid the stress on different things. According to the Theatines, 
Somaschi, and Barnabites, external action held but a subordinate 
position; though they might be in charge of hospitals, colleges, or 
missions, their essential purpose was to sanctify themselves by 
chastising the flesh and curbing the spirit; they thought that per- 
sonal mortification and prayer were the most powerful means to 
help the Church. Nor would the Oratorians and Jesuits deny the 
truth of such a view. Only they were more practical-minded, and, 
however little they might otherwise have in common, they both 
agreed that the most important task was the apostolate; that all 
the rest should lead up to it; that those who were to undertake it 
should be, like a skirmishing party, unencumbered by the heavy 
burden of properly monastic obligations; that they should be alert 
and alive, and have their full bodily and intellectual strength at 
their disposal. Of the two, the Jesuits are somewhat earlier in date; 
yet the Oratorians, however effective their work, do not hold such 
a prominent place in the history of the Catholic Reformation, and 
we shall therefore consider them first. 

The Oratory was not, in its inception, a religious order at all. 
It developed out of the spiritual action and sacerdotal practice of 
an attractive, exceptional, and even extraordinary personality, St. 
Philip Neri. Philip was born at Florence in July, 1515, the son of 
an ancient family whose fortunes had decayed. His youth was 
spent in his native town, in an atmosphere in which the gaiety and 
pastimes of a cultured aristocracy were strangely mingled with the 
spiritual earnestness of the people, who still remembered the fiery 



120 THE CATHOLIC REFORMATION 

preaching and the mystical republicanism of Savonarola. After 
leaving his home at the age of eighteen, he experienced a "con- 
version," which turned his thoughts wholly towards some sort of 
religious life; and he then left for Rome, where he arrived in 
1534. There he was for some time tutor to the children of a Floren- 
tine customs official, and also attended lectures in philosophy and 
theology; but he soon became impatient of such a plodding course, 
and his mystical leanings, as well as his thirst for spiritual action, 
led him about 1537 to take up the life of a "hermit" somewhat 
in the style of the Capuchins. Let there be, however, no mistake. 
He did not retire from the world, but on the contrary began to 
gather around him, being himself only twenty-three as yet, a 
group of young men, mostly custom-house clerks and Florentines, 
to whom he provided religious guidance. He would join in their 
games, chatter away with them in their hours of idleness, chaff 
them and be chaffed, ending up with some devotional advice de- 
livered with gay heartiness. His surprising personal influence, as 
well as his "method" of sanctification through cheerfulness, are 
already present here. 

Nevertheless, something more than the sporadic efforts of hermits 
was needed for the reform of the Church. Philip saw that it was 
necessary to join an existing movement or to create one of his 
own. He did not feel attracted by the soldierlike discipline of the 
Society of Jesus, which was making headway in Rome at that time. 
He preferred to follow the lead given by his confessor, Persiano 
Rosa, a cheerful soul of his own type. Together they founded a 
confraternity known as the Trinita de' Pelligrmi, which soon con- 
sisted of twelve laymen. Every Sunday and feast day they went to 
Communion, and assembled for religious exercises; for pious talks 
also, in which each one spoke in his turn simply and freely. These 
talks developed into something more definite when Philip took 
priest's orders and in 1552 was made one of the chaplains of a 
devout and charitable association, the Confraternita della Canta, 
which had taken over in 1524 the church and convent of San 
Girolamo, until then in the hands of the Observants. 

He now started upon his fruitful career as a confessor, and began 
to direct the exercises which were soon called the "Oratory." These 
were afternoon meetings, at first in his own room. Their spirit 
as well as their devotional character are suggested by the choice of 



RELIGIOUS REVIVAL AMONG THE REGULARS 121 

the books which were selected for free discussion: the Vita del 
beato Giovanni Colombini da Siena, the founder of the Jesuates, 
by Feo Belcari; the Laudi of Jacopone de Todi; works of Gerson, 
of St. Catherine of Siena; and other mystical treatises. The first of 
these clearly suggests the spirit which animated those pious debates: 
"If you wish Christ to give himself to you, you will always be 
ready to speak, sing or read of Christ." After the ragionamento had 
ended, the associates strolled out for a walk, still talking and sing- 
ing, often going on a pilgrimage to one of the Roman basilicas. 
On Sundays, after Vespers, they would take outings to some ancient 
site or religious house on the outskirts of Rome; and there, while 
they sat on the grass, a new "oratory" would take place, of a more 
solemn, literary, and artistic kind. The musicians present would 
perform a motet, and one of the company, possibly a child, recite 
a sermon which now was not plain and homely, but in agreement 
with the contemporary standards of stylistic elegance. Or else, the 
whole party might adjourn to a hospital in order to comfort the 
sick. 

Thus the Oratory, in its beginnings, was first and foremost the 
immediate field of action of Philip Neri. A change came when 
several of his companions such men as Baronius for instance 
became priests and began to form a small community at San 
Girolamo, with a branch at the Florentine church of San Giovanni. 
At the oratory meetings, debates were no longer held between the 
laymen present, who were now far more numerous, but before 
them; their share in the exercises was reduced to listening and 
singing. The exercises lasted for three hours, and everyone in the 
audience was free to come and go as he listed. The "brothers" 
would first read the selected book, and discuss it extempore in a 
dialogue; then one of them would preach a set sermon, and others 
speak on the history of the Church and the lives of the saints; 
last of all, canticles were sung, this being the origin of the musical 
"oratorio," which however appeared in its full-blown form only in 
1619. 

The community at San Girolamo was becoming more and more 
of a regular "congregation"; and it was in fact established as such 
by Pope Gregory XIII in 1575, when he granted to Philip and his 
companions the church of Santa Maria in Vallicella. It was now 
necessary for the community to choose its own form of government. 



122 THE CATHOLIC REFORMATION 

On March 15, 1577, Philip was elected provost, while five fathers, 
known as deputies, were chosen to act as a permanent administra- 
tive committee. The drawing up of actual constitutions began in 
1583, the model selected being the rule of the Oblates of St. Ambrose 
at Milan the order founded by Charles Borromeo. However, the 
work had to be taken up anew in 1588 and 1595, and the final 
version was not approved by the pope until 1612. Such delay is 
accounted for largely by a conflict between two opposing tendencies. 
Philip believed in the paramount efficiency of almost playful free- 
dom in action. He shrank from rules and set discipline, and he 
had no desire to see his community of secular priests develop into 
a centralized organization with branches outside Rome. He agreed, 
it is true, to the foundation of the Naples house, but this ran against 
his grain. He far preferred to see new oratories, modelled on his 
own but unrelated to it, spring up at will. 

These views were opposed by one of his companions, Antonio 
Talpa, a man of an altogether different type, not fanciful, but rigid 
and violent, who wished the Oratory to become a real religious 
order and to expand like the Clerks Regular. He insisted that 
vows should be taken, at least a vow of stability and a vow of 
poverty, the latter implying the giving up of all personal property; 
and that the office should be recited in choir. When entrusted with 
the government of the Naples house, Talpa adopted a kind of 
regular habit, decreed that the fathers should not go out alone, and 
separated the novices from them. 

The views of Talpa, however, did not prevail and the Oratory 
retained its character as a "congregation of secular priests and 
clerics," in other words, a free association of priests, who wished to 
enjoy the advantages of common life while remaining unfettered 
by any permanent obligation; who lived out of their own income, 
and who only bound themselves to the observance of a few simple 
rules. According to the constitutions of 1583, they were to refuse 
any benefices or prelacies; to have no servants of their own; and 
to live on a footing of perfect equality. Frequent confession and 
mental prayer were early practices. They might engage in various 
forms of work, including visits to the hospitals; but their essential 
task was to take their part in the oratory meetings, of which the 
Church of the Vallicella was the centre, and which now 
assumed their final form. Improvisation, dialogue, sermons delivered 



RELIGIOUS REVIVAL AMONG THE REGULARS 123 

by laymen, familiar talks with the audience had given place to 
set preaching; yet the latter was not dramatic like that of the 
Capuchins, but remained free from all rhetoric, simple and familiar, 
this being the most original innovation of the Oratory, which was 
later imitated in France by St. Francis de Sales and St. Vincent de 
Paul. The evening walks and Sunday outdoor meetings were 
retained. There were special exercises for young people, of whom 
Philip was exceedingly fond, and over whom his influence was 
great. Thus his foundation continued to bear his stamp, and his 
share in the Catholic Reformation remained essentially personal, 
even after he had died at the age of eighty-two, on May 26, 1595. 

His success, in fact, is almost paradoxical, and can only be ac- 
counted for by uncommon attractiveness and virtues of the most 
eminent kind. In an age in which everyone looked to a strength- 
ening of authority for an improvement of Church conditions, he 
was almost alone in standing for individual liberty. As a director 
of conscience he was strikingly different from Ignatius Loyola; 
he prescribed no set rules, no fixed exercises; he left his penitents 
to find out for themselves what suited them best, under the guid- 
ance of the Holy Ghost. In fact, he largely believed in inspiration; 
he even distrusted reason when unaccompanied by motions of the 
heart, and more than anything else, he detested intellectual pride. 

The main features of his spiritual ideal were humbleness, loving- 
ness, cheerfulness. Some of his characteristic oddities are accounted 
for by his wish to strengthen the virtue of humility both in himself 
and in his disciples. He would dress with his clothes inside out, 
or introduce barbarisms and solecisms into the liturgy of the Mass. 
He would send Baronius to a tavern with a twelve-gallon pitcher, 
command him to have it washed and taken down to the cellar, then 
to buy a pint of wine and pay for it with a gold coin; whereupon 
the tavern-keeper would of course be moved to abuse and blows. 
He was, however, of uncommon affability, and always ready, 
whether in good or in bad health, and even after he had gone to 
bed, to receive visitors, and listen to them patiently to the end, 
giving them all possible satisfaction. "Wherefore," his biographer 
adds, "it was incredible how he would bind to himself the minds 
of all men." 

But what is most striking about his devotional life is the Chris- 
tian cheerfulness, ease, and liveliness which appeared at all times 



124 THE CATHOLIC REFORMATION 

in his actions. He hated to seem sanctimonious, or even to be taken 
too seriously. He was once found fault with for not having, by his 
attitude, sufficiently edified a Roman nobleman. "Would you have 
me," he replied to the disciple who was bringing the complaint, 
"talk with raised eyebrows, so that people may say: 'Look at the 
famous Father Philip, who in harmonious speech pours out memor- 
able words and sayings?'" 

He impressed people less by his natural talents than by his 
almost preternatural spiritual powers: he knew how to read the 
hearts of men and was famed for his gifts of prophecy and healing; 
and though he tried to restrain his mystical life, he had visions 
and ecstasies. It was his magnetic personality which gained him 
the trust and love of his disciples, npt his intellectual originality; 
for in this respect there is nothing novel about his writings or 
even his moral advice. He was not even a good public speaker, 
would merely listen to the sermons at the Oratory, and confine him- 
self to familiar talk with members of the audience; but he knew 
how to clothe old truths m a new garb. His virtues were, in many 
ways, exceptional, yet his meekness, simplicity, and modesty were 
those very qualities which had distinguished the Christian human- 
ists, and had been bequeathed by them to the Catholic reformers; 
while on the other hand his quamtness and fancifulness, his 
Italian mobility and familiarity, seem strangely unclassical in the 
age of neo-classicism. That he should have had such a share in 
the improvement of Roman society and of the Church at large 
only illustrates the extreme variety of temperament among the 
Catholic reformers. 

# # # 

What St. Philip Nen succeeded in achieving in a limited circle 
and by merely personal means, the Society of Jesus performed 
throughout the whole world, thanks to its discipline and organiza- 
tion. It was so well adapted to the needs of the times, it spread so 
rapidly, it grew to be so important, that all contemporary movements 
dwindle when compared with it. It was the mam prop and the 
chief instrument of the Catholic Reformation. Its founder, Ignatius 
Loyola, was the very reverse of Philip Neri. Far from trusting to 
fancy and individual inspiration, he was a believer in discipline, 
organization, and hierarchy; and before these were established in 
the field of outward action, strict inward order was to be established 



RELIGIOUS REVIVAL AMONG THE REGULARS 125 

in the soul of every member of the Society. The method, which 
Ignatius conceived for himself first, and which afterwards ruled 
the spiritual life of his disciples, accounts for everything, from the 
Constitutions of the Jesuits, to their scheme of education, to their 
spirit and policy, and to their heroic work in missionary countries. 
The Spiritual Exercises are at the root of all the surprising results 
obtained by the Society of Jesus. 

It is needless to enter here into a detailed study of this book. 
Although short and seemingly of simple structure, it is in fact 
too intricate to lend itself to ready analysis. Its practical working 
cannot be easily understood without the help of that tradition, 
thanks to which the Jesuits of to-day still apply St. Ignatius' plan 
for the spiritual improvement of his disciples, be they clerics or 
laymen. Suffice it to say that the Exercises proceed on two parallel 
lines of advance. On the one hand, they provide a course of reg- 
ulated meditations, divided into four "weeks," and arranged on 
the whole in a regular progress from remorse to heavenly joy, 
from the sorrowful to the joyful mysteries. On the other hand, 
the active faculties of the soul are trained to move in a similar 
progress from resolve to resolve, beginning with the purely negative 
detestation of sin, and continuing, in the second week, with the 
momentous decision of wholly casting in one's lot with God and 
his servants; while in the third and fourth weeks this decision is 
put to the proof and confirmed. 

In other words, meditation, or the exercise of the intellect and 
imagination, is made to take effect at once in the exercise of the 
will. In fact, the whole trend of St. Ignatius' teaching is directed 
towards a strengthening of the will. This is, of course, largely ac- 
counted for by the needs of the times; nor should we forget that 
the founder of the Jesuits had begun as a soldier, and consequently 
as a man of action. It is possible, in his view, for man wholly to 
master his spiritual faculties and to steer them towards the sole 
desired purpose. He turns meditation itself into an act of the 
will, and this is why he directs it in such a precise and methodical 
way. The mind should not be left to wander at random, but 
should be compelled to apply itself to certain persons, objects, or 
ideas. When some scene of the life of Christ, the Virgin Mary, 
or the saints has been selected for contemplation, a voluntary act 
of the imagination conjures it up in every detail of its physical 



126 THE CATHOLIC REFORMATION 

circumstances. This is what is known as the comfositio loci; while 
the apphcatio sensuum suggests mental images referring to each 
of the five senses in succession. For instance, in the exercise devoted 
to the Nativity, one ought to "consider the cave where it takes 
place, and how large, how small, how low, how high it was; how 
it was furnished." The picture thus evoked is so real that one seems 
not merely to be beholding it, but to be acting in it as well: "The 
first point is to see the persons, Our Lady, Joseph, the servant-maid, 
and the infant Jesus after he is born. I shall make myself a little 
beggar, or a little unworthy slave, considering them and watching 
them, and serving them in their needs, as if I were present." 

What is more, the same method is adapted to the consideration of 
purely spiritual beings or truths; and, in that case, recourse is often 
had to images, as in the famous meditation of the two standards, 
m which Christ and Lucifer are represented, the One as leader 
of the army of the righteous; the other as despatching the demons 
on their tasks. And spiritual preparation is not confined to sug- 
gestions for the imagination; the will also appears in declaring 
beforehand what is the effect which it seeks, and to which it 
must apply its efforts; for instance, when meditating on the 
Resurrection, it is essential "to ask for what one has the will to 
obtain, which will mean here asking for the grace to exult and 
rejoice intensely over the glory and joy, which are so great, of 
Christ our Lord." 

The will is indeed triumphant in St. Ignatius' scheme. Nothing 
is to be left to the obscure, subconscious forces of the soul; every- 
thing must be clear, fully realized, and planned out, not in medita- 
tion only, but in the daily practice of ascetical life. He, for instance, 
who is for the time being in a state of "consolation," should look 
ahead to the time of "desolation," and lay up a store of courage 
for the oncoming trial. The amendment of one's faults cannot 
be achieved in a haphazard way; a strict method is necessary, which 
goes the length of recording one's own lapses by means of graphs, 
thus checking one's own improvement from day to day. Indeed, 
St. Ignatius' constant wish to guide the soul in its every step may 
seem to lead at times to some exaggeration. It would be too much 
to say that each of the divisions and distinctions in the contempla- 
tions and accompanying remarks is the result of an unavoidable 
inner logic. The point is not, however, for the author of the 



RELIGIOUS REVIVAL AMONG THE REGULARS 127 

Exercises to provide an intellectual analysis of the matters con- 
sidered, but to enable the soul to gain full control of itself, and 
to become, as he says, "its own master." 

Perfect control of self means freedom from excess; and, in fact, 
St. Ignatius repeatedly states his preference for the "golden mean." 
Let there be no mistake here: this preference does not apply to 
the really spiritual side of one's life, and no moderation is recom- 
mended in one's self-abasement or love of Christ. But in one's 
everyday actions, or even in religious practice, exaggeration is to be 
avoided. In the fourth week, when the joyful mysteries are con- 
templated, "instead of giving myself up to penitence, I shall aim 
at preserving temperance and keeping a middle course in all 
things." Similarly, in alternate temptations of over-confidence and 
timorousness, "the soul ought to establish itself firmly and wisely 
in a middle position." This closely tallies with St. Ignatius' belief 
in the value of reason. Not, indeed, that his work in the least 
assumes the nature of an apologetic demonstration. He takes the 
essential truths for granted, and sets out firmly with bold asser- 
tions. Nevertheless, practical reason plays a considerable part in 
the working of his spiritual scheme. "I shall consider," his disciple 
is supposed to say, "that every man who uses his judgment and 
reason cannot hesitate to offer up his whole person to the labours 
and trials" which God requires of him. In the meditation on the 
"election," or choice of a manner of life, we are told, one should 
"examine the question in its various aspects, and consider which 
way reason inclines most." Reason, here, really means common 
sense; and it is this same common sense which induces St. Ignatius 
to refrain from fruitless discussions on predestination or justifica- 
tion by faith alone. 

The practical wisdom of the author of the Exercises is again 
manifested in a feature which is typically his own, which was to 
inspire the whole of the activities of the Society of Jesus, and the 
new school of spirituality which it founded. This feature can best 
be defined by the word "adaptation." The sole thing which really 
matters is the end in view, "to honour and serve God, and save 
one's soul." The means used should be subordinate to this end. 
Each man should be placed in the best possible conditions to 
fulfil his divine purpose on earth. He should not waste his strength 
uselessly. Bodily mortification is good, up to a point; it should, 



io8 THE CATHOLIC REFORMATION 

however, be exactly proportioned to one's resistance, and in no case 
endanger one's health or impair one's powers. Mental mortification, 
which in that respect is harmless, and even profitable, should be 
preferred. "Adaptation" is also extended to the practice of medita- 
tion: the number of the daily exercises, their themes, their petitions, 
are to be accurately suited to each person's needs. 

Let each one, further, find out by experience what has been 
hurtful to him as in the case of excessive discouragement or 
scruples and avoid it; what has been helpful, and dwell upon 
it. Here is the corrective to what may appear excessive in St. 
Ignatius' spiritual drill: the seeming rigidity of the theory is 
happily corrected by a keen sense of the useful and feasible. 

That the reality of the material world, in and outside ourselves, 
has to be taken into account, is again evidenced elsewhere in St. 
Ignatius' directions. He who meditates, he says, should provide 
for himself a physical environment suited to his thoughts and 
feelings "adaptation" once again. There is nothing compulsory 
about one's posture when praying: let one kneel, stand or sit, 
lie down face upwards, or even pace up and down, according as 
it is spiritually most helpful. In the first week, which is devoted 
to remorse and a consideration of the hateful ness of sin, he who 
meditates will remain in the dark, with doors and windows closed; 
light and darkness will alternate in the second week, as they 
did in Christ's preaching life; in the fourth week, the thought 
of Jesus' resurrection and glory will incline one to seek "the light 
of the day or the pleasantness of the season, the cool in summer, 
and in winter the warmth of the sun or of a fire." In a word, St. 
Ignatius marvellously realizes that, in the words of Pascal, "man 
is neither an angel nor a brute beast," and that both sides of his 
nature should be taken into account, and made to co-operate. 

Method, directed meditation, "adapted" discipline, outward helps, 
all these are made to concur in the same purpose, which is, we 
repeat, the fortifying of the will. This, however, is not an ideal 
in itself, and should not be understood in the stoic sense; for 
the absolute end which St. Ignatius has in view is not the glorify- 
ing of one's personality, but on the contrary the utmost humbleness 
and self-renunciation. "I shall consider who I am," one of the 
exercises runs, "endeavoring through various comparisons to appear 
smaller and smaller in my own eyes." Jesus, as St. Ignatius pictures 



RELIGIOUS REVIVAL AMONG THE REGULARS 129 

Him, addresses all His servants. "He advises them to help all men, 
by attracting them first of all to an entire spiritual poverty, and 
to real poverty as well, if the divine Majesty is thus served, and 
wishes to call them to such a state: secondly, to the desire of 
obloquy and contempt, for of these two things is born humility." 
Spiritual poverty includes detachment, which is to be achieved at 
all costs, beginning with minor matters, such as that of food, 
and going on to meditation and prayer, in which "desolation" 
guards the soul from any overweening pride. 

No commonplace motive would justify such a total forgetfulness 
of self: it is only possible if it is called forth by love. And here St. 
Ignatius, true to the tradition of the Franciscan mystics and of 
the Imitation (which he expressly recommends) insists on the fact 
that love is the chief element in the relations between the soul 
and God. "God is love," he repeats after the Apostle John; and 
love can only be paid back with love. One should consider, in 
meditation, "how our Lord Jesus Christ assumes the part of a 
consoler with his own disciples, and compare him to a friend 
comforting his friends." Such divine love inspires the bold ideal 
which the author of the Exercises proposes to him who will "re- 
ceive" them: "He must enter into them with great bravery and 
great generosity toward his Creator aad Lord, offering up to 
him his whole will and his whole freedom," for "love should consist 
in works far more than in words." 

From this brief resume it is clear that the whole spiritual dis- 
cipline, the whole action and policy, and the very educational 
methods, of the Society of Jesus are clearly outlined in the Exercises. 
Total renunciation of self; total abandonment to the will of God, 
as personified by one's superiors; a practical bent, the belief that 
"God will help those who help themselves"; the striving with all 
one's efforts towards the attaining of actual results; a proportioning 
of the means to the end, a sense of the real and possible; all these 
were present from the first in St. Ignatius' mind, even before his 
order was founded. It is no less clear that many features of his 
spiritual ideal made it easy for him to make use of classical 
antiquity in his pedagogy, and thus follow in the tracks of the 
Christian humanists: the strengthening of the will, the aurea 
rnediocritas, mi^ht readily be supported by the study of Cicero 
or of Seneca. Even what came to be known as Jesuit art largely 



130 THE CATHOLIC REFORMATION 

rests on the principle expressed in the Exercises, namely that prayer 
and meditation are dependent on outward environment; also, on 
St. Ignatius' support of all the traditional rites and customs of the 
Catholic faith, in his directions on Submission to the Church, as 
against the dryness of Protestantism. Nor should we forget, finally, 
that in the ascetical field, the Exercises were to lead the way for 
many generations to follow. A simple, slight, unassuming book; 
but one which was to make its weight felt to the ends of the world. 



St. Ignatius had conceived the plan of the Exercises during his 
retreat at Manresa in 1523, shortly after Luther had come out ot 
his own retirement at the Wartburg, and while the unfortunate 
Adrian VI was vainly attempting a root-and-branch reformation 
of the Church. He still had no thought of founding a new religious 
order. The next ten years were years of preparation, with a 
pilgrimage to Jerusalem, spiritual work in Spain (where he had 
trouble with the Inquisition), and studies, philosophical and 
theological, at Paris University. The Society of Jesus began, poten- 
tially at least, on August 15, 1534, when Ignatius, together with 
his first six companions, took his first vows in the chapel at 
Montmartre. This was m^re than ten years before the first sessions 
of the Council of Trent. When the great assembly of the Church 
finally gathered, the founder of the new order had just begun 
work on its Constitutions in 1544. Three years were to elapse before 
they were finally completed in 1547; six, before they were approved 
by a congregation of the professed fathers in 1550. 

Ignatius was already over fifty years of age when he undertook 
to provide the Jesuits with a rule; and the time he spent in drafting 
this comparatively short work of less than three hundred octavo 
pages bears witness to the unusual care, patience, and attention 
which he gave to it. Besides the general principles already present 
in the Exercises, the Constitutions embody the experience of his 
whole life, while testifying to the astounding powers of his intellect 
and his knowledge of the human heart. From the first, he foresaw 
the future development of the Society as a world-wide institution, 
and he legislated for it as such. His organizing ability was equal 
to his foresight. He sees to every detail, and yet avoids excessive 
minuteness and rigidity. The firmness and clearness of his thought 



RELIGIOUS REVIVAL AMONG THE REGULARS 131 

are enough to make the Constitutions a work of great literary 
value; they are bare and unadorned in style, but they go straight 
to the point; and they have a severe, soldierlike beauty of their 
own. Altogether, they appear as the work of a master-mind; and 
when ranking their author among men of genius, one can hardly 
be taxed with exaggeration. 

The Constitutions, indeed, are a work of striking originality, 
at least in regard to the means proposed. The end in view is com- 
mon to all Christians to procure "the honour of God and the 
universal weal of men"; but the way in which it is constantly 
reasserted, and the manner in which it is interpreted, make it 
almost into a new precept. The stress is laid on its altruistic 
implications, "to procure the salvation and perfection of one's 
neighbours" corrupt Churchmen or misguided heretics; also 
on the fact that action is no less necessary than prayer, and that 
Providence "asks for the co-operation of God's creatures." Now, 
action will be fruitless if directed at random against particular 
abuses, which are sure to crop up again; it should spring from the 
source of all authority and influence, that is to say, in the Church, 
trom the papacy itself. Hence the fourth and special vow which 
all Jesuit professed fathers have to take, putting themselves un- 
reservedly at the disposal of the Holy Father, to be sent whitherso- 
ever he may choose. The spiritual principles of the Society, as 
expressed in the other three vows, also tend to facilitate efficient 
action; poverty will leave the Jesuits free from the shackles of 
worldly cares; obedience and humbleness will ensure perfect co- 
operation and the easy working of a central command; while the 
supreme purpose remains the training of the will, which enables 
each one to accept his appointed task readily, and to perform it 
steadfastly. 

Ignatius clearly realized that no little moral corruption within 
the Church derived from the system of benefices, which allowed 
of self-seeking, ambition, and greed. Therefore the members of 
the new Institute were warned that, "once incorporated into the 
Society, they were not to hold any benefices whatsoever, but to 
return them to their patrons, or give them away for pious works"; 
also that they might pretend to no ecclesiastical dignities, and that 
they were to get rid of any property they might own; not, however, 
by making a present of it to their kin, from whom they should 



132 THE CATHOLIC REFORMATION 

be wholly detached. The rules on poverty, indeed, seemed to 
Ignatius of such importance, and he was so much afraid lest they 
might be cancelled, as they had been among the Franciscans, that 
he took special steps to ensure their permanency. Each father, on 
being admitted to profession, was to take a vow that he would 
never agree to have them relaxed. The author of the Constitutions 
also understood that the fees charged for spiritual services had 
led to many abuses, and had been one mam cause of the Protestant 
outbreak; hence the Society was to accept "neither alms nor 
stipends ... for masses or preaching, or reading or administration 
of the sacraments, or any other pious office," and its houses and 
churches were to have no revenues of their own. The only excep- 
tion made was in favour of the colleges and houses of probation, 
which could hardly live without some permanent income. 

As in the Exercises, poverty is still more important m its spiritual 
than in its material shape. Humility is an essential virtue of the 
Jesuit. He must be prepared "patiently to bear injuries, revilmgs 
and obloquy"; and if selected for the least flattering kind of work, 
that of a temporal coadjutor, "to spend in it all the years of his 
life." Indeed, the Constitutions repeatedly forbid any member of 
the Society to express any discontent with his present post, or any 
wish to be promoted. Even at the election of the general there 
must be no candidates, no canvassing. Each one must be a ready 
instrument in the place to which he is appointed; an obedient 
instrument too on no point is greater emphasis laid. And 
obedience does not merely mean compliance with orders: the 
inferior must tram his will to become identical with that of his 
superior. "He must let himself be carried and ruled by his superior, 
as if he were a dead body these famous words, perinde ac cadaver 
are borrowed from the rule of St. Francis that lets itself be 
carried anywhere and handled anyhow, or like an old man's 
staff, which he who holds it in his hand, may use to help himself 
wheresoever and howsoever he may wish." Such a relinquishing 
of one's own personality can be accepted only if both the inferior 
and the superior are animated by the same overpowering ideal. 
Both must "tend in all things to serve and please the divine 
goodness for its own sake, and for the sake of its love and bless- 
ings . . . more than for fear of punishment or hope of rewards." 
As in the Exercises, the prime motive is love. 



RELIGIOUS REVIVAL AMONG THE REGULARS 133 

The absolute identification of the will of the inferior with that 
of the superior is not to be left, however, to the chance working of 
mere feelings, however powerful. It is ensured by a strict, and, to 
outsiders, formidable spiritual discipline means both internal and 
external being used to guard the Jesuit from any faltering. He must 
first of all use the ordinary helps recommended in the Exercises, 
examine his conscience daily, go to confession and Communion 
every week, keeping as far as possible to the same confessor. But 
in addition to this the superior must have "full knowledge of the 
inclinations and motions of those in his charge, and of the faults 
and sins to which they are more liable and inclined; so as to be 
able to direct them the better accordingly." He is further to propor- 
tion the use made of them to their abilities. Whenever a probationer 
is about to become a scholastic, or when a scholastic is about to 
take his vows as a professed father, or generally when a Jesuit 
is going to be promoted to another post, or again on request, at 
stated intervals or otherwise, he must "manifest his conscience to 
his superior, without concealing anything which might offend 
the Lord of all men; and give an entire account of his past hie." 
In the houses of probation, the master of the novices must be 
loved and confided in, and everyone must discover his temptations 
to him. Finally, since no reliance can be put on one's unaided 
strength, the Jesuit, whatever his rank, must agree to be, not 
merely advised, but even forcibly kept in the straight path. His 
correspondence, his relations with others, and his very conversations 
are liable to supervision by his superior. His equals may observe 
his behavior, remonstrate with him, and even report him; a system 
of discipline which might give rise to outbursts of facile indignation, 
but of which the force lies in the fact that it is willingly accepted, 
in a spirit of utter humility and love. 

No second-rate personality could possibly agree to such abnega- 
tion, coupled with such burning zeal and such untiring energy. 
The founder of the Society realized that he ought to admit none 
but finely tempered souls; the morally, intellectually, physically, 
or even socially, unfit had no room in his Institute: able workers 
only could cope with the gigantic task before them. Consequently, 
the conditions for admission are incredibly strict. At every step 
in the course of the preliminary postulancy and of the novitiate, 
the applicant is fully informed as to what awaits him, and re- 



134 THE CATHOLIC REFORMATION 

peatedly, almost tiresomely asked whether he is willing to face the 
full consequences of his vows. He is subjected to a series of trials, 
as for instance to go on a pilgrimage with an empty purse, or to 
perform the meanest offices in the house and obey the orders of 
the cook, or before his last vows to go begging from door to door 
for three successive days. What is more, his spirit also is tried. 
He is warned that he will have to forget his former associates 
and relations, who will henceforth be mentioned only in the past 
tense; that he must forsake his own judgement wholly, and be 
prepared to spend his whole life in the humblest of occupations. 

Nor is this all. The postulant must be qualified for his future 
task, and his task must be strictly "adapted" to his possibilities. 
Hence, he may be shunted on to the office of a coadjutor temporal, 
with none but bodily work to do, or to that of a scholastic, with 
studies to pursue; and the scholastic himself, in accordance with 
the degree of his learning and virtue, will become one of the 
professed fathers -the marrow and soul of the Society or a 
coadjutor spiritual, entrusted with apostolic or teaching work. 
This adaptation of the means to the end is an essential element 
of the Jesuit spirit. No useless words, Ignatius substantially says, 
no empty gestures: let every action be justified by its result. 
"Idleness," we read in the Constitutions, "which is the origin of 
all evils, has no place whatsoever in a Jesuit house." Not merely 
idleness, but attention to irrelevant matters must be avoided; and 
so that no man may waste his time and strength, strict division 
of labour is to be established. The general must not be kept from 
the important business of central government by trifling administra- 
tive details; he must have a secretary to serve him as an aid to 
his memory, and specialized advisers to discuss important decisions. 

The Jesuits as a whole must not be kept from their proper 
activities even by pious exercises or subsidiary tasks. There is no 
choir duty for them a strikingly new departure from the prac- 
tice of all earlier orders almost a revolution, which gave rise 
to no little opposition in the Curia. Nor can they be burdened 
with the pastorate of souls in parishes or the care of women's 
convents. Devotional practice must be suited to the requirements 
of each individual case; and St. Ignatius' breadth of view is ex- 
emplified in his use of "adaptation." 

The Society must not be merely a sort of foraging party, free 



RELIGIOUS REVIVAL AMONG THE REGULARS 135 

from all impedimenta; its efforts must be used to the best possible 
effect, thanks to a wise economy of strength. The maximum 
leverage must be sought in every undertaking. "Since good, the 
more universal it is, the more it is divine," Ignatius says, "one 
ought to prefer such persons and places as, after gaining spiritual 
improvement, cause the profit to spread to others that obey their 
authority or follow their directions." Therefore, one should give 
attention first and foremost to influential people, "such as princes 
and lords or magistrates and judges, or to churchmen such as 
prelates. . . . eminent for their learning Qr authority." No doubt 
Ignatius thought of such men when he advised his disciples to 
try to exert an influence "through pious conversations, advising 
and exhorting them to do good." Nor is working from above the 
only condition of efficiency. As in the Exercises, Ignatius stresses 
the necessity of husbanding one's strength by being sui compos, 
free from all excess, and accordingly of submitting to the wise 
discipline of the golden mean. "Indiscreet devotions" are an 
obstacle to admission in the Society; and again, the Jesuits are 
advised to abstain from excessive mortification, "which is harmful 
and prevents a greater good." 

Finally, efficiency in a body of men united for the same purpose, 
in a real army such as the Society, requires co-ordination and the 
hierarchy which alone can enforce it. Here Ignatius was faced 
with a formidable problem. He had to draft a constitution in the 
political sense of the word, and to guard against the well-known 
evils of representative government, no less than against those of 
tyranny, both having been recently exemplified in the Church. He 
obviously did not believe in parliamentary institutions, and under- 
stood that in his Society as well as in the Christian body at large, 
some kind of monarchy was necessary. "In all well-ordered States 
or communities," he says, "it is needful that there should be one 
or even several persons to attend to the universal good, this being 
their proper end; and also in this Society . . . which thus will 
the less be fatigued and distracted from its purpose by universal 
'conventions.' " At the same time, he could not but realize that 
the central power must not be allowed the free exercise of its 
bon plaisir, and that it must be accountable to someone. Hence 
the remarkable system which his imagination conceived, and which 
bears the stamp of his genius. He retains, indeed, in the Society, 



136 THE CATHOWC REFORMATION 

a gathering of representatives sent up by the provinces, the "general 
congregation"; but this assembly is never allowed to indulge in 
the parliamentary game of cross-talk, questioning, and idle oratory. 
It is to be called up by the general, but "seldom, except in case 
of necessity," or by the vicar after the death of the general, for 
the election of his successor. In the latter case, it is to resemble 
an extremely strict conclave, for the Fathers are locked in and 
bound to keep silence. If there is no clear majority, the decision 
is left to an elected committee of three or five, all squabbles 
being thus prevented. When general topics are discussed, the 
members of the assembly are free to move about, but "all that 
there is to be handled, must be concluded as quickly as possible." 
To this purpose, each one of the Fathers must give his opinion 
in writing on the points at issue; and after the dumb debate is 
completed, if there is no unanimity or quasi-unanimity on one 
side, four definitors are elected, to settle the matter finally with 
the general. 

The latter, therefore, is not in the position of a constitutional 
premier, who has to play the parliamentary game, and whose posi- 
tion is always insecure. His authority may even, at first sight, appear 
unlimited. It is stressed at every page of the Constitutions, to this 
extent that, although the necessity of a system of rules, "full, clear 
and brief," be forcibly asserted, there is practically no single regula- 
tion from which the general may not dispense if he see fit to do so; 
the same absolute powers being vested in each superior, within the 
range of his own government. There is, however, a check upon 
abuses and this is where the originality of Ignatius' political 
thought appears. The general, as we have said, has four assistants, 
whose election by the Congregation of the Fathers takes place at the 
same time as his. The function of these assistants is not merely to 
help him in his work, but also to see to it that he keeps in the 
straight path of wisdom and virtue. He must obey them in the 
matter of dress, food, and personal expenses; of his health, "so that 
he may fall into no excess of work or mortification"; of his spiritual 
welfare, "so that he may be admonished as to what tends to the 
greater service and glory of God." Lastly, if he has committed any 
crimes, the four assistants may call up the Congregation general, and 
have him deposed and replaced. The same principle is applied to 



RELIGIOUS REVIVAL AMONG THE REGULARS 137 

each one of the lesser superiors, who may, if necessary, be provided 
with a collateral, both to advise and to guide him. It is almost un- 
thinkable, in such conditions, that authority might fall into any 
abuse; while the fact that in the long run, it is not a cut-and-dried 
printed rule which governs the Society, but a man who can take 
circumstances into account, makes for "adaptation" and permanency. 
In fact, Ignatius' main thought was to ensure the duration of his 
Society, and the last part of the Constitutions is entitled: "How this 
whole body will be conserved and augmented in its well-being." The 
various means to this end are here rehearsed, beginning with the 
spiritual help of prayer and the Exercises, going on to poverty, to 
strictness in the choice of postulants ("It is good not to keep the door 
wide open"), to the necessity of authority, and, last but not least, to 
the importance of union and unity. These are grounded on charity 
and moderation in discipline. The Society, besides, must be inde- 
pendent. Thus, the honours granted to the founder of a college do 
not imply any rights of patronage on his part. In short, there again 
appears, in Ignatius' conclusion, this mingling of inspired enthu- 
siasm and practical common sense, of burning charity and staid self- 
restraint, of passion and reason, of abnegation and efficiency, which 
isthe main feature of his genius and the cause of the greatness of 
his order. Even within his own lifetime the Society was to spread 
to the whole of Italy, to Spain, Portugal, France, Flanders, and Ger- 
many, and even to Africa, South America, and the Far East. The 
Jesuits Le Fevre, Laynez, and Salmeron took part in the Council of 
Trent as theologians. Jesuit missions were founded in Morocco and 
in the Congo m 1548, in Brazil in 1549, while St. Francis Xavier, 
the apostle of the Indies, had planted Christianity in Japan during 
the same year. Jesuit houses began to spring up everywhere. The 
Roman college was founded in February, 1551, the German college 
in 1552, the college at Billom in 1555. This rapid expansion, to 
which we shall revert in greater detail, bears witness to the extraor- 
dinary driving-force of the Jesuit movement. It was largely due to 
the original and progressive system of education which the Society 
adopted, and which was to be one of the chief instruments of the 
Catholic Reformation. 



138 THE CATHOLIC REFORMATION 

BIBLIOGRAPHY 

For the general history of the reform of the older orders and the 
foundation of new orders, including the Jesuits, see Pastor, History of 
the Popes, Vols. XIII and XIV. Detailed information on Matteo da 
Bascio and the Capuchins is found in the documents printed in Acta 
Sanctorum Bollandiana (Maij), torn, IV, De origine Capucinorum; 
while the life of St. Gaetano da Thiene by Caracciolo is found in the 
same work (Augusti), torn. II, together with other documents on the 
Theatines. Also refer to R. de Maulde de la Claviere, Saint Gaetan 
(Paris, 1905). On St. Philip Neri and the Oratory, use has been made of 
the excellent and exhaustive work by the Abbes Ponnelle and Bordet, 
St. Philip Neri and the Roman Society of His Time, translated from 
the French by Father Francis Kerr (London, 1932). On St. Ignatius and 
the Society of Jesus an immense literature is extant, of which no idea 
can be given here. Use has been made of Hefele-Richard, Histoire des 
Conciles, Vol. IX, 11, and of the remarkable biography by Paul Dudon, 
S.J., Saint Ignace de Loyola (Paris, 1934). St - Ignatius Loyola, by Fr. 
Cyril Martindale, S.J. (London, 1921), may also profitably be consulted. 
The Acta Sanctorum (Juln), torn. VII, provide an enormous mass of ma- 
terial on the founder of the Society. On the discipline and spirit of the 
Jesuits, see the searching work of Gaetan Bernoville, Les Jesuites (Pans, 
1934). It is best, however, to refer to the sources themselves, notably the 
Spanish text of the Exercises, printed in facsimile as Ejercicios espm- 
tuales (Roma, 1908), and the Spanish text of the Constitutions. For 
reference to various points in the latter, commodious use may be made 
of the Compendium Instituti S.J., by Fr. Julius Besson, SJ. (Tolosae, 
1896), and of the Commentarius in decem partes Constitutionum by 
Father Augustinus Oswald, S.J. (Bruges: Desclee et Brouwer, 1895), 
in which the matter is arranged under various heads. 



CHAPTER VII 



Education and Scholarship 



THE Catholic Reformation penetrated into every sphere of 
human activity. It was both a spiritual revival and a movement 
for the moral and material improvement of society; and in 
either of these aspects, was bound to take an interest in the up- 
bringing of youth. Besides, the Council of Trent had brought edu- 
cational questions to the fore by prescribing the creation of semi- 
naries for the training of priests. The facilities thus provided for 
the clergy only were soon to be extended to the laity as well, in 
response to the universal demand for Christian schools. In this field 
as in others, however, the work of the Catholic reformers was not 
an absolute novelty. It had been begun, if not fully developed, 
before Luther arose, and had already assumed its proper shape and 
character. From this early period, there is evident that same blend- 
ing of Christian doctrine and devotion with the almost exclusive 
study of classical "grammar" and literature, which was later to be the 
distinguishing feature of the Jesuit and Oratorian colleges, and the 
chief reason of their success. We have already mentioned the 
pedagogic theories of the German scholar Trithemius. They were 
taken up and completed in the early sixteenth century by Erasmus, 
who in his treatise De pueris statim ac liberaliter instituendis ("Early 
and liberal Education for Children," 1529) appears as a forerunner 
of the Jesuits in regard to most of their methods. 

The Dutch scholar advocates the creation of humanistic schools 
(ludi liter arii) > which should be open to all, irrespective of social 
class. "If there be a school at all, let it be public." The studies arc to 
begin with "language," i.e., Latin and Greek grammar, then go on 
to "poetry," this including eloquence. Use should be made of com- 
monplace books, lists of proverbs, etc. The pupils should remain 

139 



140 THE CATHOLIC REFORMATION 

under the same praeceptor as long as possible, and the latter should 
be chosen among the best, not among the worst. The matters taught 
should be fully digested. "The best means of remembering consists 
first in understanding thoroughly; then, once things are understood, 
in setting them in order; and lastly, in repeating them in succes- 
sion." But harshness and tediousness should be avoided. There are 
things "which one learns through play rather than labour." Physical 
exercise is neglected: "The harm done to the body seems to be 
amply made up for by the gain of the mind." In regard to discipline, 
Erasmus is as progressive as the Jesuits were later to be. The teacher, 
he says, should be a father to the boys. Whipping or threats should 
be done away with, and replaced by sweetness. Emulation will be 
ensured by blame and praise. The idea that literary knowledge and 
moral improvement walk hand in hand and pari passu is repeatedly 
insisted on: "Let the pupils first learn to love and admire honesty 
and letters, to loathe infamy and ignorance. . . . Man is born for 
philosophy and righteous behaviour." The child brought up to letters 
"will be kept away from those vices likely to corrupt him at his age 
of life." 

Such Christian humanistic notions had inspired, at the end of the 
fifteenth century, the plan of studies and the discipline in the schools 
of the Brothers of the Common Life. The latter were a real religious 
order, established in the Low Countries, whose main task was edu- 
cation. We have fairly full particulars of their school at Liege, 
founded in 1496. We know more, however, about the teaching 
proper than about the discipline, though there is no doubt that 
"sweetness" prevailed. Throughout the whole succession of forms 
(classes), numbered from one to eight, the chief subject was Latin. 
The declensions and conjugations had to be learned in the first; the 
second, third, and fourth were devoted to grammar, the explana- 
tion of authors, and stylistic exercises; Greek was begun in the 
fourth. The fifth was reserved for rhetoric, while in the upper forms, 
the students stepped into the realm of dialectics and theology. 

The general progression here, from letters to philosophy, prefig- 
ured the later organization of the Jesuit colleges; but the likeness 
appears more striking still when one comes to detail. The exercises 
were composition (the writing of essays), declamation, and disputa- 
tions. For scholastic and disciplinary purposes, self-governing groups 
of ten were formed among the pupils, and headed each by one of 



EDUCATION AND SCHOLARSHIP 141 

their number, who went by the name of decurion. No one could be 
promoted to a higher form without undergoing an examination; 
and at the solemn "promotion" cerernony, those who had been re- 
jected were allowed to put questions to those who had been passed. 
There were yearly prizes for the most proficient, and also prizes in 
term time for those who had the best marks. Plays, ancient and 
modern, were performed. Finally, the rector was subject to the au- 
thority of the superior of the local house of the Brothers to which 
the school was attached. 

The schools of the Brothers of the Common Life may not have 
directly inspired the Catholic Reformation; but they certainly did do 
so through an offshoot of theirs, the community of Montaigu. The 
latter was a religious body created by one of their number, the 
Fleming, John Standonck, for the upbringing of the clergy. It owed 
its name to a residential college of Paris University, founded in 
1402 for poor scholars, later opened to students of means as well, 
and reformed by Standonck in 1499-1502, so as to become the head- 
house of his new order. The college, with which* Ignatius Loyola 
was thoroughly acquainted, combined many interesting features. It 
included both secondary classes devoted to letters, and university 
classes devoted to philosophy and theology. 

Indeed the notion, later adopted by the Jesuits, that literature 
must be made to subserve religion, is stressed with great force in 
the reformed statutes of the college. These inveigh against the 
"desolation" of the Church, against the pagan Renaissance, which 
induces men "diligently to acquire letters and sciences ... for vanity 
merely." They announce their purpose "to raise a new generation, 
who will be taught to embrace mortification and virtue together 
with knowledge, whose letters will be proved by their lives." 

What is more, the main purpose of the Montaigu community 
which later founded houses in Flanders, Cambrai, Valenciennes, 
Malmes, and Louvain foreshadows that of the Society of Jesus; 
and though this may be somewhat apart from the field of education 
proper, we must not fail to notice in passing that Ignatius certainly 
derives many features of Jesuit life and discipline from the practice 
of Montaigu. He did away, it is true, with some of the rules imposed 
by Standonck upon his poor scholars, such as the saying of litur- 
gical hours in chapel at night, and excessive mortification; but he 
retained most of the rest. The reformer of Montaigu had insisted, as 



142 THE CATHOLIC REFORMATION 

Ignatius was himself to do repeatedly, that the members of his com- 
munity were not merely "to work out their own salvation, but that 
of others as well," through controversy and preaching. He insisted 
on the necessity of material and spiritual poverty, and of obedience. 
The students and masters at Montaigu were in duty bound "to 
accept smilingly and to perform faithfully" any work allotted to 
them by their superiors. The effective direction of the college was 
in the hands of a committee of three that might overrule even the 
decisions of a general assembly, as in the case of the election of the 
rector. The practice of daily and solitary meditation on spiritual 
things was prescribed, as well as that of examination of conscience 
in the evening. Idle talk was forbidden, and the scholars were 
strictly enjoined to report each other's failings. 

As regards tuition proper, Montaigu forestalls St. Ignatius' col- 
leges, insofar as there might be question of the literary and theolog- 
ical formation of future Jesuits. Each student, before being ad- 
mitted, must reside for some time in the house, "so as to become 
acquainted with it, and to make himself known" to his superiors. 
Then he must undergo a severe examination bearing on his physical 
health, his doctrine, his knowledge of grammar, and his inner dis- 
positions. He is asked the likeness with a Jesuit college being 
here striking whether, in the event of his being found "indiffer- 
ently gifted for letters," he is willing to serve the community in 
some humbler form of employment. After taking an oath of abso- 
lute obedience, he is switched on to the branch of study for which 
he is best suited, and his future prospects are determined. General 
discipline is ensured, as in the schools of the Brothers of the Com- 
mon Life, by some of the students themselves, specially selected for 
the purpose. In the present case, they are called not decuriones, but 
decani or notati, and they must render account to the rector or 
"father of the poor" of the behaviour of ten or twelve of their 
fellow-scholars. 

Classes are held in the morning and afternoon, while on Fridays 
and Saturdays recitations and "construction" take place, in French 
for the lower forms, in Latin for the higher. After Vespers, dispu- 
tations are held on points of "grammar" (a word which covers what 
we call "literature") under the chairmanship of the teachers or 
"regents"; they also take place in a more solemn way on Sundays, 
in the presence of all the artistae, after being prepared for on half- 



EDUCATION AND SCHOLARSHIP 143 

holidays or vigils. There is even a kind of Jesuit "academy" among 
the theologians, who assemble at night to discuss the lessons of the 
day. Religious instruction is given each Sunday by way of a sermon, 
also on vigils before confession. 

In the literature classes the syllabus included the study of Latin 
grammar and literature, both poetry and prose, but not of Greek. 
"Lascivious poets" were to be excluded, "whatever the beauty of 
their style." The use of Latin was compulsory among the pupils, 
who passed through seven classical forms, and could on no account 
be promoted from a lower to a higher one without being examined. 
They were listed according to merit by the regents, who, it seems, 
stayed with them in their upward progress. On the whole, Montaigu 
supplies the best possible proof that an educational movement for 
the purification of the Renaissance was afoot before the Lutheran 
outbreak; a movement which, if we judge by the devotional prac- 
tice of the college, in no way anticipated the innovations of Protes- 
tant theology. 1 



And yet, we are faced with a definite fact: when the Protestants, 
three decades later, began to develop their system of education, they 
did so on lines which strikingly recalled the Brothers of the Com- 
mon Life, while their adversaries were slower in moving in the 
same direction. The school system of the Catholic Reformation has 
therefore often been said to lack originality, and has even been 
taxed with plagiarism. The charge cannot be ignored, and we must 
now review the facts. 



1 Fr. Paul Dudon, m his St. Ignacc de Loyola (p. 185), comes to the conclusion 
that Montaigu was mediaeval, conservative, and averse to humanism. While the 
presence of Erasmus there in 1496, he says, proves that "humanism was not then 
frowned upon," yet the fact that Noel Beda was Standonck's successor from 1503 
to 1513, that he was later to write, against both Lcfevre d'Etaples and Erasmus, his 
Adversus clandestine* Lutheranos, and that he was to bring about the condemna- 
tion of Erasmus' Colloquia by the Sorbonne in 1528, shows that at this date "human- 
ism must have been held in suspicion at Montaigu," and that similar disfavour must 
have been shown to Lorenzo Valla, Aldus Manutius, Jossc Bade, and even the 
grammarian, Dcspauterc. But in 1528 it was fifteen years since Beda had left 
Montaigu; and, besides, one should not infer from his condemnation of what he 
considered as Lutheran tendencies in humanistic authors, that classical humanities 
were proscribed at Montaigu. We know that even under Beda's rectorship the teach- 
ing in the college was greatly renowned, and that famous professors were on the 
staff (cf. Marcel Godet, La congregation de Montaigu, p. 61). 



144 THE CATHOLIC REFORMATION 

Protestant education began with the Rhinelander, John Sturm 
(1507-1589), who was educated at Liege in the school of the Brothers 
of the Common Life, then moved to Louvain, where he was en- 
gaged in humanistic teaching and printing for some time. He came 
to Paris in 1529, and from 1530 to 1536 was a professor there in the 
College de France, where he lectured on Cicero. He is said to have 
felt unsafe in the French capital because of his leanings towards the 
new doctrines. Be this as it may, he accepted an invitation of the 
magistrates of Strasbourg to come and reorganize education in their 
city. The latter had then adhered, under Martin Bucer, to a modified 
form of Lutheranism verging on Zwinghanism. Sturm founded the 
Strasbourg Gymnasium in 1537, and in his book De hterarum luchs 
recte aperiendis ("How Properly to Open Literary Schools," 1538), 
explained how closely he had followed the model of his Liege 
masters. His example soon bore fruit, and was imitated in many 
towns of Lutheran Germany, where colleges were created or re- 
organized, from 1541 onwards. Calvin himself became acquainted 
with Sturm's work during his stay in the Alsatian capital, and repro- 
duced its mam features in the Academy at Geneva, which dates back 
to 1559. Last of all, the French Protestant towns followed in Calvin's 
steps, and established academies or colleges on the same pattern, 
from 1561 to 1630. 

On the Catholic side, m regard to the education of boys at least, 
nothing was done before the Council of Trent. It is true that in 
1542 the Jesuits began to accept lay pupils in one of their houses; 
but it was only in 1552 that they opened a school definitely meant 
for non-clerical students, at Billom in Auvergne. Their colleges soon 
swarmed over the whole of Europe, and achieved signal success; 
and their likeness with Sturm's own scheme was such that the 
Strasbourg headmaster himself was moved to notice it: "I have 
seen," he wrote, "what writers they explain, and what method they 
follow m their teaching; they keep so close to us in their precepts 
and rules, that it looks as if they had derived them from our own 
spring." 

Sturm, however, did not state that it was a case of actual imitation. 
Nor is such an explanation necessary. There was a common source 
in both cases. Ignatius Loyola had been subjected to precisely the 
same combination of Flemish and French influences as Sturm him- 
self, and very much at the same time. He came to Pans in Feb- 




Si. KOHIKI BMI YKMIM "A character ol 

exli aoi dmai \ richness and *. ompleteness," 

he ^a\c tin hnal impulse to the 

'llKunistk rt:\ i\ al. 



1 ; H. RohlHl P\KS()\S, S.J. "Wild 

captured by the aiilcnt spiritual 
ideal of St. Ignatius." 




otiAjo '1 ASSO ( ia\e expression to the 
literary ideals ,i the ( lathe. Ik 
Retoniiation. 



1 )i SIDI KITS I''.R\SMI:S Christian humanist. 




MADONNA Raphael 



EDUCATION AND SCHOLARSHIP 145 

ruary, 1528, expressly to improve his knowledge of classical letters, 
which he deemed essential for his apostolate; and he remained there 
until March, 1535. He first of all attended the classes of the College 
de Montaigu, then of the neighbouring College Sainte-Barbe. As he 
was most impecunious, he used to take trips to Flanders during the 
holidays to solicit grants from Spanish merchants established there. 
As likely as not, he may have touched at the branch houses of the 
Montaigu community. We know for certain, in any case, that he 
came into touch with Flemish humanism. The Spanish scholar, 
Luis Vives, a friend of Erasmus, and like him, a theorist of the new 
education, had settled down at Bruges; and there he entertained 
Ignatius and made much of him. 

It is clear that the spirit of the Brothers of the Common Life and 
also of Paris University, which had inspired Sturm, was also brought 
home to Loyola, and that he derived from it much of his devotional 
ideal, his school discipline, and his plan of studies. The Catholic 
Reformation, as represented by the Jesuits, did not imitate the 
Protestants: it followed, like them, the trend of contemporary edu- 
cational thought. But even actual imitation of a suitable model 
would be anything but damning. It would at any rate imply wis- 
dom. Besides, whatever may be owing to the influence of earlier 
movements, the educational work of the Catholic reformers has 
merits of its own; its very importance, its very success, prove that 
it had some original elements. And it is a fact that it spread out of 
all proportion to its Protestant counterpart. In France alone the num- 
ber of Protestant academies and colleges never rose above twenty- 
five, whereas the schools of the Jesuits and Oratorians reached a total 
of about one hundred and five; and the schools of the other orders 
ought to be added as well. This expansion cannot be explained 
merely by a vague and general acceptance of prevailing standards 
on the part of the teaching staff. There must be a constructive sys- 
tem of pedagogy to give the necessary impulse; and it was the merit 
of the Jesuits, first among the Catholic reformers, to build up such 
a coherent system a system of remarkable psychological insight 
and keen intelligence in their Ratio studiorum. Lastly we should 
not forget that literary education was, for the Catholic reformers as 
well as for the Protestants, not an end in itself, but a means of edifi- 
cation; and here again, the former were remarkably successful, and 
managed to regain a considerable amount of lost ground. 



146 THE CATHOLIC REFORMATION 

There is yet another remark which suggests itself. It is true that 
both Catholics and Protestants followed in the wake of the Christian 
humanists, and that there is, for instance, a striking likeness between 
the "laws" of the Protestant Academies of Nimes (1582) or of Mont- 
pellier (1608) and the Jesuit Ratio studiorum; and it cannot be 
denied that on either side, the schools turned out scholars famous 
for their knowledge and elegant use of both Latin and Greek. But 
was the neo-classical plan of education as congenial to the holders of 
the new tenets, as it was to the representatives of the "old religion ? " 
Did it tally as well with the spirit of Protestantism as with that of 
Catholicism? There is some reason to doubt it. For one thing, Sturm 
cannot be considered as having been typically Lutheran or Bucerian. 
He belonged to a period of intellectual confusion, in which no clear- 
cut line had been drawn between contending parties, in which ever- 
reviving hopes of reconciliation might allow a man of an irenical 
disposition, like him, to remain m the employment of Protestants 
without altogether breaking with Catholicism. In fact, Sturm had 
been recommended to the magistrates of Strasbourg by the Catholic 
bishop, Erasmus of Limburg. He was found fault with by the 
Lutheran Marbach for "having praised the Jesuit schools and 
pedagogy"; he accepted Catholic pupils in his Gymnasium, even 
from France and Italy; he contemplated a redistribution of the staff, 
in which half the teachers would be Catholics; he advised Catholic 
towns to devote prebends to the creation of grammar-schools. He 
was knighted by the Catholic-minded Emperor Charles V. His atti- 
tude was that of a classical scholar, not that of a religious controver- 
sialist: "What is there that is of mere advantage in this life," he 
wrote, "than a pure mind and pure speech? What pleasanter, than 
an elegant life and elegant language?" This is the spirit of Erasmus, 
not that of Luther. In a word, Sturm's work was that of a Christian 
humanist: it can scarcely be called that of a Protestant. 

Lastly, there is some reason to think that, from the very first, 
Sturm's scheme of education was regarded by the founders of Prot- 
estant schools as being too purely classical. Nor is this surprising, 
when one remembers that, while Christian humanism had under- 
taken the explanation of the original text of Scripture through 
"grammar," that is, philological science, Lutheranism had insisted on 
its being turned into the vernacular, and interpreted even by the 
unlearned. Add to this that Latin, as the language of the Catholic 



EDUCATION AND SCHOLARSHIP 147 

Church, was obnoxious to Protestants. The authors o the Jesuit 
Ratio studiorum of 1586 realized this perfectly, when they wrote 
that Latin was necessary in transalpine colleges, "to make relations 
easier between different nations, and to keep as far away as possible 
from some heretics, that do their best to abolish the Latin tongue, 
so as to prevent all intercourse with Catholics." 

These reasons account for the importance given to the vernacular 
in some of the Protestant schools. The statutes of the Academy of 
Geneva already stress the importance of French, and do away with 
Latin verse. At the Academy of Nimes, the pupils were to learn 
reading in French, not in Latin, and French was the first subject 
taught in the first three school-years. These facts should not be over- 
stressed; yet they help to understand how it is that the educational 
ideal of the Christian humanists found its fullest development with 
the Catholic Reformation. 



From the first, the fulfillment of the prescriptions of the Council 
of Trent, in regard to education, was mostly entrusted to the Society 
of Jesus. Of course, it was not alone in the field. There were schools 
founded by the Barnabites and the Capuchins, in Italy and France, 
about which printed literature is regrettably silent, and concerning 
which one wishes one knew more. In the seventeenth century, the 
numerous colleges of the French Oratory were to gain a great and 
deserved renown. Nor should one forget the diocesan work done 
by St. Charles Borromeo in Milan, or the later institution of Sulpi- 
cian seminaries in France. Yet, at the time of the Trentine assembly, 
the Jesuits were the only organized body of sufficient bulk, energy, 
and scholarship to undertake educational work on a large scale. One 
of them, Fr. Le Jay, had been the first to suggest at Trent, as the 
representative of the bishop of Augsburg, Otto Truchsess, that 
special schools should be founded for the training of the clergy; and 
when these were in fact created, they were largely entrusted to the 
Society, which alone could staff them. The council decided that the 
Jesuit colleges already extant should be considered as complying 
with its decrees on the training of priests, and dispensed from con- 
tributing to the upkeep of diocesan seminaries. 

St. Ignatius' first thought had been to found houses of education 
for members of the Society only; in fact the first colleges were mere 



148 THE CATHOLIC REFORMATION 

hostels for Jesuit students who went out to attend classes at the local 
universities. But soon, a double change took place. On the one hand, 
non-Jesuit pupils were admitted into those purely residential institu- 
tions; on the other, "colleges" in the wider sense of the word, i.e., 
real schools and universities, were offered to the Society by their 
founders or benefactors. This induced St. Ignatius to reconsider his 
position; he resolved to adapt himself to circumstances, and to let 
the Society take charge of educational work properly so-called, first 
of all for the clergy at large. The first move in this direction was the 
foundation of the Roman college, which was meant as a model for 
the whole Jesuit Order. It was a non-residential university, where 
students attended classes only, while they boarded at various houses, 
also termed "colleges," but different in nature, such as the Germani- 
cum, founded by the Society in 1552, or non-Jesuit houses, such as 
the Roman seminary or the English college. 

As yet, however, nothing had been done for the laity. It was in 
France that the first attempt to teach laymen was made. Guillaume 
du Prat, the reforming bishop of Clermont-en-Auvergne, had been 
anxious for some years past to plant the Jesuits in Paris, where he 
had given them his town house or Hotel de Clermont. But as early 
as 1546, at the Council of Trent, he had offered to Fr. Le Jay to 
take over the then decayed university at Billom. The proposal was 
accepted in 1553, and the "college" at Billom soon became one of 
the most flourishing educational centres in Europe. The College de 
Clermont in Paris, despite a good deal of opposition, also rose to 
great prosperity and fame. Gradually the range of studies was ex- 
tended downwards, and made to include what we now call second- 
ary or even elementary forms; while a certain proportion of the 
pupils, instead of boarding, according to mediaeval practice, in the 
houses of "pedagogues" outside the colleges, were admitted to reside 
there as convictores. Thus the typical Jesuit college was gradually 
evolved: a combination of a residential university for clerics who 
read in theology or philosophy, and a secondary boarding-and-day 
school for lay pupils, who studied grammar, humanities, and 
rhetoric. 

Once this formula was settled upon, it met with extraordinary 
success. Jesuit colleges swarmed over the whole of Central and 
Western Europe, and even as far as India; and there were new 
foundations throughout the sixteenth, seventeenth, and even eight- 



EDUCATION AND SCHOLARSHIP 149 

eenth centuries, right up to the suppression of the Society. This is 
especially striking in the countries which were threatened by the 
spread of Protestantism. Owing to the variations in the political 
divisions of Europe, it is no easy matter to make an exact statement 
of the national distribution of colleges. We know, however, that in 
Poland three had been created by 1565, at Braunsberg, Wilna, and 
Pultusk. In the somewhat uncertain boundaries of the Holy German 
Empire, as it stood about the beginning of the seventeenth century, 
we find between 1551 and 1650, about 155 foundations, the majority 
being in Germany proper (76), and Flanders (31); while there were 
12 m Austria, 6 in Hungary, 5 in Switzerland, 4 in Holland, and 10 
in various outlying districts. In France, counting in neither Flanders 
nor Alsace, but including Lorraine, Savoy, and Franche-Comte, the 
foundations, from 1551 to 1643, rose to the number of 68. The word 
"foundations" should not, however, be taken in too literal a sense. 
In the majority of cases, the Jesuits and for that matter, the Ora- 
tonans as well were called in by city authorities, not to establish 
new schools, but to restore old ones; many of these being colleges 
created in the enthusiasm born of the humanistic movement, but 
which had been mismanaged, and had fallen into decay. Out of 68 
Jesuit colleges in France, no fewer than 39 succeeded to previous 
educational institutions. Such was the case at Auch (founded in 
1543, taken over by the Society in 1588); at Sens (1537 and 1623) 
at Nimes (1539 and 1634); and in other places. The fact is one of 
great importance. Local bodies, when asking for the help of the 
Jesuits, knew that they were bringing into their schools the spirit 
of the Catholic Reformation: order, hierarchy, and methodical or- 
ganization, as well as a severe type of moral discipline, resting on 
ardent piety. 

The plan outlined by Erasmus and already embodied in the sta- 
tutes of Montaigu, was to reach its full development in the stately 
monument of Jesuit pedagogy. The latter was already in all its essen- 
tials present in the mind of St. Ignatius when he wrote the section 
of the Constitutions devoted to colleges and universities; but it 
was gradually brought to perfection as a result of experience gained 
in the first colleges of the Society. The conclusions finally reached 
were expounded in great detail in the famous document known as 
the Ratio studiorum, which in a slightly modified shape still governs 
Jesuit education at the present day. The first draft of this work was 



150 THE CATHOLIC REFORMATION 

a report prepared in 1585 by an international committee composed 
of six Fathers one Spaniard, one Portuguese, one Frenchman, one 
Austrian, one high German, one Roman. It then really appeared in 
the nature of a discussion of the topics proposed, and was printed 
in 1586 as a list of suggestions, to be examined by the various prov- 
inces. The final set of rules for Jesuit schools was printed, under the 
same title, only in 1599. Whatever its debt to previous systems of 
education, it goes beyond anything that had appeared before. 

The essential purpose of the Exercises and of the Constitutions 
had been among the Jesuits the fortifying of the will. That of the 
Ratio studiorum is the building up of a strong moral personality 
among their pupils. Therefore all that would tend to enforce passive 
and servile obedience is discarded; everything is to be done to ensure 
willing acceptance of the rules, and active co-operation on the part of 
the boys. Discipline and government are as much as possible placed 
in their own hands; they are made to acquire a sense of responsibil- 
ity. Similarly, in the intellectual field, the pupils should not be 
merely receptive; they should be made to think anew by themselves, 
to knead and knead again, so to say, the substance of what has been 
taught to them. Such a conception of education implies psychological 
insight, wide experience, and an intelligence in advance of the times; 
in fact it is strikingly modern, and forestalls, in regard to the build- 
ing of character, the methods of Thomas Arnold and the Rugby 
School, and in regard to the building of the mind, the teaching prac- 
tice of the French Lycees. 

Pedagogy as such, however, is only an instrument in the Jesuit 
scheme, the main purpose being always the same, i.e., to build up in 
each student a strong religious personality. Hence originated the 
plan adopted for the organization of each college of the Society. 
Beginning with knowledge accessible to all and with students of all 
descriptions, it ended up with the study of theology carried on by a 
select few. The college was divided into two parts. The lower one 
was open to all pupils, whatever their prospects. It included five 
forms: rhetoric, humanities, higher, middle, and lower grammar; 
but each of the latter three comprised two halves, which the less 
gifted could go through at the rate of one a twelvemonth; so that 
this cycle of studies extended to a maximum period of eight years 
(the total course, exclusive of university classes, was of similar length 
at the Liege school of the Brothers of the Common Life). The 



EDUCATION AND SCHOLARSHIP 151 

higher part of the college was reserved for clerics, especially those 
who were already scholastics in the Society. In it the students went 
through one year of philosophy, two of theology, and were allowed 
to stay on for another two years for private study of the latter 
science. We are now accustomed to consider a secondary school and 
a university as things apart. St. Ignatius combined them into one, 
true to the tradition and practice of mediaeval Paris: the wholly 
secular "philosophy" class of the French Lycees at the present day 
being a legacy of the Jesuit colleges. 

The staff of a school, thus constituted, includes a rector, who is 
supreme; a prefect of studies, who actually supervises the whole of 
the teaching, inspects each class at least once a fortnight, "guides 
and cheers" the teachers, and sees to it that they enjoy due esteem 
and authority; sometimes also a prefect of the inferior studies, 
specially in charge of the lower part of the school. Great attention 
is devoted to the recruiting and training of capable masters. Certain 
colleges prepare students for the functions of praeceptores in the 
purely literary forms. These students, towards the end of their course, 
are bound to gather three times a week to practice the duties of their 
future calling, "lecturing, dictating, composing, correcting," etc.; 
this under the guidance of one "most skilled in teaching." When 
they are put in charge of a class, the latter must be no higher than 
their present abilities; afterwards they rise from form to form with 
their pupils, gaining knowledge at the same time as they dispense 
it. They are advised to follow the tradition and habits of their 
predecessors, so as to avoid any break in the continuity of school- 
life. The rector himself should have had some teaching experience, 
so that, the Ratio studiorum of 1586 adds, with a touch of humour, 
"he may, from what he himself has suffered, learn to pity others." 
This is also necessary to ensure his authority over the other masters, 
who otherwise would grumble at being ordered about by one ignor- 
ant of their trade. The professors of theology themselves must be 
sent to teach grammar for some time. In fact there should be no 
difference in point of honour between the teaching of letters and 
that of the "higher faculties." St. Ignatius was especially insistent 
that both should be put on the same level. If any masters, "through 
fatigue or weariness," should flag in their zeal, let them be granted 
one year's leave; if they fail to recover the necessary energy, let 
them be employed in other than school duties. 



152 THE CATHOLIC REFORMATION 

One recognizes here one of the fundamental ideas of the Society, 
to wit, that no man's work should overtax his powers, that there 
should be an exact adaptation of the former to the latter. The same 
principle is applied to the life of the pupils. The vacations are indeed 
brief: one week in summer in the lower and middle grammar forms, 
a fortnight in higher grammar, three weeks in humanities, one 
month in rhetoric and above; the other holidays only aggregating 
some twenty-three days. But then there are a number of religious 
feasts; and, besides, each week one day must be given to rest, "or at 
any rate one afternoon." Nor are the pupils allowed to overstrain 
themselves: "No one should apply himself to his work, reading or 
writing, for more than two hours running, without a break of some 
little time." All must be taught by the masters how "to distribute 
their time to the best advantage for private study," during which 
they should enjoy perfect peace, as the Constitutions themselves 
insist. 

Nothing could be farther from that stupid and brutal cramming 
of children which Montaigne denounced among the pedagogues he 
had known in his early years; nor could the Jesuits be said "to fill 
up memory only, leaving the understanding and conscience empty." 
On the contrary, the Ratio studiorum insists that the pupils should 
first of all be made thoroughly to grasp the texts on which they have 
to work. The basis of the teaching is the praelcctio, which still sur- 
vives as explication dc texte in modern French educational practice, 
of which it is the main asset. The master, we hear, should first of 
all read the passage to be elucidated; then he should "expound its 
subject, and connect it up with what comes before"; then, "let him 
read each period, and, if he should be interpreting it in Latin, let 
him explain the more difficult passages, join them together, and 
make the meaning clear, not by means of some insufficient equiv- 
alent, as by substituting a Latin word for another Latin word, but 
by really expounding the sense through clearer expressions. If he is 
using the vulgar tongue, let him retain, as far as possible, the order 
of the words; for thus the ear becomes accustomed to rhythm." A 
lively explanation is to be preferred to dictation: "While the master 
dictates, the pupils are rather intent on writing, than understanding; 
besides, before they have come to the end of a sentence, they have 
forgotten the beginning. . . ." The praeceptor, after he has dictated, 
"thinks that he has performed his part; he gulps down his commen- 



EDUCATION AND SCHOLARSHIP 153 

tary, as if it gave him too much trouble . . . and it will all vanish 
into nothing." 

None but confirmed educationists could have spoken so much to 
the point. The same experienced wisdom appears in the way in 
which the matters taught are made to sink into the mind of the 
boys. After class, the master stays on for a quarter of an hour, and 
all are free to question him. But a better plan is recommended. A 
proficient pupil repeats the lesson for the benefit of his comrades; 
some of the latter put questions, to which others reply, or the master 
himself. Similar "repetitions" take place in the boarding-house, the 
praeses questioning at least three of his comrades in the space of 
fifteen minutes. 

There is yet another means to make the students understand and 
remember: it is the disputation, bearing on theological or literary 
subjects, and already in honour in Paris University in the Middle 
Ages. As at Montaigu, such debates took place on Saturdays and 
Sundays. The Ratio studiorum has no pity for bookworms, who are 
incapable of expressing themselves in public. "One disputation is of 
more avail than many lessons" the Society's purpose, to defend 
religion through controversy, being always kept in mind. The rector 
or the prefect was, however, to be present and discreetly guide the 
discussion, keep it in its proper channel and to a proper length, 
dispense praise, and sum up the argument, "neither keeping silent 
for long, nor talking all the time." 

# # * 

If not wholly original on the subject of discipline and emulation, 
the Jesuit scheme at any rate elaborates the principles already as- 
serted by Erasmus in every one of their implications. The Constitu- 
tions forbid any chastizing of the students by the masters themselves; 
the latter must "exhort" delinquents "lovingly," with "mildness and 
chanty"; "observance of the rules is to be obtained," the Ratio stu- 
dwrum adds, "more through the hope of honour and distinction and 
through the fear of disgrace, than by blows." The master should 
"refrain from insulting the boys by word or deed; and never address 
them otherwise than by their name or surname." If bodily punish- 
ment cannot be dispensed with, it should be meted out by a special 
official, the "corrector," who is not a member of the teaching staff. 

Emulation is encouraged by every possible means. The pupils of 
each form are divided up, for the sake of competition, into two 



154 THE CATHOLIC REFORMATION 

groups, in cither of which the most brilliant pupils, after a class 
examination, are appointed magistrates, and take the names of Latin 
or Greek civil or military dignitaries. Each pupil in one half of the 
class has his corresponding number in the other half, whom he is 
supposed to keep an eye upon, and correct whenever necessary. The 
seats are assigned according to merit, and the "most ignoble" part 
of the classroom is reserved for the "form of sloth" (ncgligentiae 
scamnum) to which "the laziest boys are sent away" only to be 
"frequently shamed, blamed, and scolded." There is a further divi- 
sion into decuriae, also graded according to proficiency, each pupil 
being allowed to challenge another one in a superior decuria, and 
change places with him if he conquers. The decuriones are respon- 
sible for the behaviour of their comrades, and may indicate them 
for some slight punishment. They are also expected to supervise the 
work of those under them. Badges or small rewards are attributed 
to distinguished students, and a number of means are used to bring 
their work before the public eye. Their Latin or Greek poems are 
posted up or solemnly read. And of course there is the yearly distri- 
bution of prizes. 

This fostering of emulation is consonant with the main intention 
of the Jesuit scheme: that of picking out the most gifted boys and 
developing to the best their capabilities, so as to bring them to 
influential positions either in or outside the Society. Unpromising 
pupils are only a hindrance, and should be gently, but firmly, elim- 
inated; hence the process of continuous sifting, which begins with 
the admission of a pupil, and lasts to the very end of his studies. 
To start with, the selection of candidates should be made on as 
broad a basis as possible, since merit is not limited to any social class : 
"No one is to be excluded, because he is of low birth, or poor." But 
the would-be pupil is to be examined, and accepted only if his intel- 
lectual and moral aptitude is deemed sufficient. Afterwards he 
undergoes a new testing, as a rule at the beginning of each school- 
year, before being promoted to a higher form. Great wisdom and 
experience are again evidenced in these examinations. The regula- 
tions are to be read to each class two or three days beforehand. The 
subject for the written part should be worded briefly. The examiners 
should be three in number, including the prefect, but no masters; the 
majority carry the decision in each case. The school-marks of the 
candidates are to be taken into account. When three of them have 



EDUCATION AND SCHOLARSHIP 155 

been subjected to oral interrogation, their fate must be settled forth- 
with, "while the judgments of the questioners are still fresh." In 
doubtful instances, the whole examination may be gone through 
again, the age, aptness, and diligence of the boy being considered. All 
preliminary discussions should be kept secret; and no external in- 
fluence should be allowed to interfere. 

The intelligent teaching, the humane discipline, the helps to 
emulation, the gradual process of elimination, everything in a college 
of the Society concurs in the obtaining of practical results. The 
Jesuits were so much bent on efficiency, so averse to any useless ex- 
penditure of strength, that they made the very leisure hours of the 
pupils to contribute to their main purpose. This was done by means 
of voluntary associations inside each school, which being an elite 
within an elite, still further reinforced emulation, both in the devo- 
tional, moral, and intellectual field. Pious students enrolled in the 
Congregation of the Blessed Virgin Mary, the members of which 
alone could be admitted to the literary or philosophical debating 
society known as the Academy. The latter was placed under the 
supervision of a special prefect, and had a branch in each class, in 
which magistrates were appointed. In the course of the meetings, 
the pupils again went through "the repetition or applying of those 
matters, which had been expounded in class," their exercises being 
made as pleasant as possible, so as "to excite their minds to study." 
Here again we find public debates and recitations, prizes, and the 
posting up of poems. It was not in vain that the Constitutions had 
stated that studies "in a certain way require the whole of man." 

They ought not, however, to absorb him for their own sake; they 
should be, according to the Society's purpose, a means of sanctifica- 
tion. Masters are warned "thus to bring up thek pupils, that they 
may, together with letters, imbibe manners worthy of Christians." 
Whether during or after class, they are "to prepare the tender minds 
of the young men to obey God and love him, as well as promote 
the virtues, through which they ought to please him." Great atten- 
tion is therefore paid to the devotional life of the students, both in 
the higher and lower forms; though the Constitutions wisely pre- 
scribe that no compulsion shall be used. The scholastics of the 
Society, in the philosophy and theology classes, ought to go to Com- 
munion every week, neither more nor less frequently; but the pupils 
in the "inferior classes" should only confess every month, and receive 



156 THE CATHOLIC REFORMATION 

Communion "on solemn feasts," being exhorted to this on vigils, as 
at Montaigu. At the beginning of each lecture prayer is said on 
bended knees, and the teacher crosses himself before speaking. 
Catechism is taught on Fridays and Saturdays; but there are also 
daily exhortations, even in private colloquies, in which, however, 
no attempt should be made to induce pupils to join the Society. If 
they feel attracted towards it, their confessor alone is to advise them. 
Spiritual readings are to be recommended; while great care should 
be taken not to leave immoral books in the hands of the boys. 
Altogether, they should be constantly incited to virtue and piety, 
but without undue rigidity; devotional practice being here "adapted" 
almost as much as in the case of the Jesuits themselves. 

Nothing has been said up to the present of the syllabus of studies. 
It is, in fact, as regards the inferior classes, very similar to that of 
the Christian humanists, some of whom the Ratio studiorum men- 
tions by name as examples to be followed, in their love both of the 
Latin and of the Greek tongue: "Sigomus, Muretus, Petrus Victo- 
rms, Manutius." 

It is the same, we might say, but with some improvements, how- 
ever, and with one exception, that of lewd authors. Johann Sturm 
had taken no exception to the plays of Terence; there was no 
danger, he said, in performing them m school, if they were properly 
explained; the spectacle of vice side by side with virtue was a moral 
lesson for the audience. The enthusiasm of the Jesuits for classical 
literature was subordinate to their religious purpose, and they 
showed no such leniency. "Poets and others, who may endanger 
good manners," are not to be read in their colleges, unless expur- 
gated; "if they cannot be purged at all, like Terence," better leave 
them aside. Otherwise, the Jesuit syllabus is even more classical than 
that, for instance, of Trithemius. Teaching in the Society, in respect 
of language, is directed towards a single aim: to enable the pupils, in 
the interests of religion, to speak and write pure, elegant Latin and 
Greek in a smooth and easy way. No decadent model should there- 
fore be selected. In regard to Latin, Cicero, the master of perfect 
speech, takes up most of the space, leaving some room, however, for 
Virgil, Horace, Ovid, Catullus, and Tibullus, but none whatsoever 
for patristic literature, the latinity of which is unsafe. On the Greek 
side, the Fathers are not open to the same objection, since their 
grammar is faultless, and their style often admirable; therefore, 



EDUCATION AND SCHOLARSHIP 157 

together with Homer, Hesiod, Pindar, Thucydides, Plato, Demos- 
thenes, and Isocrates, we find St. Gregory Nazianzen, St. Basil, and 
St. John Chrysostom. On either hand the exercises prescribed are 
of the same kind, and are meant to loosen the tongue and to sharpen 
the pen of the students. The latter must first of all acquire a stock 
of words and phrases, which they gather in their commonplace 
books. Then they make use of it, not merely for the writing of prose 
essays, but also for the inditing of poems, or even of fanciful trifles 
such as epigrams, conundrums, enigmas all of which make for 
nimbleness of speech. 

Fault has often been found with a system of studies in which 
science was reduced to a few lessons in mathematics and cosmog- 
raphy, in which modern history was a secondary subject, and in 
which the knowledge acquired was of words, not of things. To this 
one might reply that the essential purpose of education is not to 
stock the mind with miscellaneous information, but to enable it to 
reason clearly and straight, so as later to take advantage of any 
branch of study, whether literary or technical. Now the exercises 
prescribed by the Jesuits were meant like the oral correction of 
tasks, for instance to make the pupils use their reflective faculties. 
And there can be no doubt that the colleges of the Society turned 
out generation after generation of strongly built minds, able to write 
and to speak well because they thought well. The intellectual results 
thus obtained were all to the advantage of the Catholic Reformation 
movement; and the Jesuits must be praised for the way in which 
they brought mere theories or aspirations into the realm of fact, and 
understood that the only way to attain practical results was to give a 
firm and direct lead by means of a fixed set of rules, and by a com- 
plete and coherent system of pedagogy. 



In fact, the methods and practice of the Jesuits spread their influ- 
ence far beyond the Society proper. Advantage was taken of them in 
the reformation of Paris University, begun in 1595 after the wars of 
religion, by Henry IV. They were praised and recommended in 
1600, in regard to the teaching of Latin, by the Sorbonne professor, 
Edmond Richer, in his treatise on education entitled Obstetrix ani- 
morum. Most important of all, they were closely imitated by the 
Oratorians. 



158 THE CATHOLIC REFORMATION 

The French Oratory, founded in 1611 by Pierre dc Bcrullc, had 
grown rapidly, and after showing some unwillingness, like the 
Society, to take over the charge of colleges, had finally decided to 
engage on teaching work. Between 1616 and 1649, it founded or 
restored 26 colleges, these being framed exactly on the same plan as 
those of the Jesuits, in other words, beginning with a secondary 
school to end up with a seminary or university. The Oratorians, 
who never refused to acknowledge their debt to the Society, adopted 
most of its school organization: the examination before admission, 
the class entrance examinations, the dccuriac and decurions, the 
division of class-periods into half-hours, the academies, various devo- 
tional practices such as monthly confession, meditation, the examina- 
tion and account of conscience. The masters, in turn, were to rise 
from form to form, to use Latin in their correspondence, and to 
refrain from inflicting bodily punishment. Except in cases of utter 
necessity, no fees were charged for tuition; variety and interest were 
introduced into school-life by means of public declamations and 
college plays; emulation was fostered by the distribution of prizes. 
The very purpose of education was the same: "Public studies should 
be for us," Fr. de Condren wrote, "but a means of exercising charity, 
and the outward service rendered to the people, an occasion to serve 
them through the instruction of souls." 

Fr. de Berulle had been exceedingly anxious not to hamper the 
work of the Jesuits, whom he greatly esteemed; in fact, the apostolic 
zeal, the spirit of devotion and humility, were equal on both sides. 
At the period now under consideration, that is, up to 1650, there had 
not yet broken out between the two orders those lamentable quarrels 
connected with the Jansenistic movement, which were to last on 
right up to the French Revolution. At the same time there was a 
divergence, due possibly to the original difference between the 
Society and the Roman Oratory, whose lead Pierre de Berulle had 
been following, but mostly to the national reaction against the inter- 
national character of the Society of Jesus. It is true that the French 
Oratory felt no partiality for the military spirit and discipline of the 
Jesuits, and that, with typical Gallic individualism, it believed far 
more in the value of independent effort than in the power of organ- 
ization. It was, like its Roman predecessor, an association of free 
priests, in which, to use the words of Omer Talon, "everyone obeyed 
though no one commanded." And yet, uniformity was enforced 



EDUCATION AND SCHOLARSHIP 159 

upon the Oratorian colleges by means of visitations, and a Ratio 
studiorum was made compulsory in 1645. 

The main point of opposition lay elsewhere. Exception had been 
taken to the number of foreign masters in the Jesuit schools, for 
instance in the College de Clermont in Paris; the Oratorians, on 
the contrary, were recruited in France and their staff was con- 
sequently French, the point being expressly insisted upon at 
Marseilles in an agreement with the Corporation, when the local 
college was handed over to them. As a matter of fact, the Oratorians 
did not claim the same distinctive originality as the Jesuits: they 
merged more easily in organized public life; they were anxious 
to comply with the wishes of municipal bodies, to whom they 
granted extensive rights of inspection and supervision. In regard 
to the use of Latin in school there was some hesitancy; yet French 
was preferred for catechism and for the "explanation" of classical 
texts, even in the higher forms; and translation, as an exercise, 
gradually ousted prose and composition. In 1640 there appeared 
a Latin grammar in French by Fr. de Condren. History was 
specially taught, but it was the history of France, which also 
supplied themes for school tragedies. The contrast between the 
attitude of the Oratorians and that of the Jesuits was not due, in 
the case of the former, to motives of policy or national interest. 
The Catholic Reformation had had its inception in France, with 
the Christian humanists; it was bearing wonderful fruit in France 
also in the early seventeenth century. The French contribution to 
the welfare of the Church was of value precisely because its spiritual 
quality was national and peculiar. The Oratorians were conscious 
of this, and their patriotism, far from being directed against the 
universal Church, tended to its enrichment. 

Whatever opposition in temper at the outset, and whatever 
differences later, might separate the Oratorians from the Jesuits, 
there was absolute agreement between them when the future of 
the Church was at stake, in the heroic times of the Catholic 
Reformation. This cordial union appeared when an order of nuns, 
specially created for the education of girls, that of the Ursulines, 
was introduced into France. It had taken birth in Italy, thanks 
to the charitable efforts of St. Angela Merici. The latter was born 
in Lombardy in 1470, and her activities had started as early as 
1516, when she had begun to establish Christian schools in Brescia. 



160 THE CATHOLIC REFORMATION 

She gathered a body of helpers around her, and in 1535 all took 
a solemn resolve to devote themselves wholly to their duties as 
teachers. They were as yet uncloistercd, and lived in the homes 
of their parents or relatives. In 1572, however, St. Charles Borromeo, 
who had employed them a good deal, bound them to common 
life and the three vows. Late in the sixteenth century an Ursuline 
convent, modelled on those of Italy, was created in the papal enclave 
in France, near Avignon. Soon after, in 1610, another one was 
established in Paris by Madame de Sainte-Beuve. This noble lady 
was much attached to the Jesuits, one of whom was her confessor, 
and who had been allowed to come back to France by King 
Henry IV, thanks to her personal intervention; she also belonged 
to the pious circle which gathered in the house of Madame Acarie, 
around M. de Berulle, the founder of the French Oratory; and 
advice and help were sought on either hand. The Ursuline move- 
ment spread with great rapidity throughout the kingdom, the 
number of houses, shortly before 1650, rising to 255 in eight in- 
dependent "congregations." 

The spirit of the Catholic Reformation is beautifully illustrated 
in the Ursuline schools which, mutatis mutandis, have much in 
common with the Jesuit colleges. Yet there is an essential difference, 
which lies in the nature of the teaching. It had been a fashion 
of the Renaissance to bring up female scholars who could discourse 
in Latin or Greek; but the Ursulines had no wish to turn their 
pupils into femmes sav antes, and deemed that a sound knowledge 
of reading, writing and reckoning, needlework and housekeeping 
was all that even society women needed to acquire, "since it was 
pleasanter to our Lord, and more useful to them, to be virtuous 
than to be learned." But every care was devoted to the building 
up of their moral personality, according to principles which bring 
home to us the religious atmosphere of the period: "I advise you," 
St. Angela had said to her spiritual daughters in her will, "to lead 
your pupils with a soft and gentle hand, and not imperiously or 
harshly; but in all things to try and humor them, like true mothers." 
This suavity, akin to that of St. Francis of Sales, by no means 
excluded firmness and energy: "The true and proper devotion of 
the Ursulines," Madame de Pommereu wrote, "is not a devotion 
of tenderness, ravishings and ecstasies; it is a strong and solid 
devotion . . . which rouses the pupils to generous and warlike 



EDUCATION AND SCHOLARSHIP 161 

virtues; thus they reach those practical ecstasies which are indeed 
the best of all" 

The use of the word "practical" is worthy of notice: it points 
to a conception of education related to that of the Society, which 
in fact many features recalled: girls of all social classes, however 
poor, were admitted; there was to be no excess in devotional 
practice though the point at which excess began was set much 
higher than nowadays, and the lives of the pupils were steeped 
in piety; no choir duty at any rate, no properly monastic exercises; 
undue asceticism was carefully avoided. The rules, according to 
St. Angela's own advice, were not cut-and-dried, but the product 
of gradual experience and adaptation. Idleness was to be shunned. 

The aim of the Ursuline schools was to turn out that fine social 
type which is still found in the French bourgeoisie of to-day, a 
thrifty and pleasant-mannered housewife, able to "run" a middle 
or even higher class home, to make a little go very far, and to 
fulfil both her domestic and social obligations, while at the same 
time preserving her virtue unsullied and her piety sincere and 
fervent. The little girls are "to become converted to God through 
love ... to mould their manners after the common modesty and 
uprightness of the wisest and most virtuous Christians that live 
in the world." 

The practical organization used to obtain such a result was apt 
and efficient. The "general mistress of the boarders" was to examine 
candidates for admission; to keep in touch with the superior and 
the girls' parents; to inspect the classes, dormitories, and refectories; 
to read the rules to the school twice a year solemnly. Discipline 
was to be ensured through rewards rather than through punish- 
ments; bodily chastisement, when necessary, was to be dispensed 
"with a serene and tranquil mind"; but as a rule other means were 
to be used, in accordance with the character of the pupils, since 
"some are led to amend themselves through fear, others through 
gentleness, others through silence, others through a mere look or 
attitude." Great attention was granted to the health of the girls, 
and those who showed a tendency to curvature of the spine were 
to be kept from writing much. The form mistresses were to keep 
company with the boarders throughout the whole day as in 
present-day Salesian practice to take part in their meals, recrea- 
tions, and even games. They were in charge of catechism and of 



162 THE CATHOLIC REFORMATION 

the pious exercises, which culminated in the yearly First Com- 
munion, a ceremony which was first imagined by the Ursulines, 
and which has remained a central feature of the devotional life 
of the French youth. In a word, the Ursuline schools produced 
that fine combination, a saintly woman of the world; a combination 
typical of that pluckily heroic age, when elegance was deemed 
a necessary accompaniment of bravery. 



The Jesuit and Oratorian colleges were not merely "classical" 
schools. Their higher forms were more like universities, in the 
mediaeval sense of the word, or seminaries, in which the chief 
matters taught were philosophy and theology. We need not here 
consider the doctrine of the Oratory, which developed an originality 
only after 1650, when it embraced Cartesiamsm. But, from the first, 
the Jesuits had their own views on the teaching of divinity, and 
here again followed in the footsteps of the Christian humanists. 
They expressed their disapproval of decadent scholasticism, with 
its elaborate quaestiones, restored the authority of Thomas Aquinas, 
and made Scripture, as interpreted by scholars, the basis of all 
theology. The Ratio studiorum of 1586 expresses itself on the point 
in an uncompromising way: 

"We must strive with might and main, so that the study of 
Holy Writ, which is languishing among ourselves, may be aroused 
and flourish. We are exhorted to this by the examples of the holy 
Fathers, who always thought that it was more useful and honour- 
able to apply oneself to the Scriptures than to so many questions; 
and to hear God speaking through his prophets and apostles, than 
to fall into dotage over our own cogitations and speculations. Those 
who [nowadays] give themselves up wholly to theology seem to 
follow commentaries, leave aside the text . . . and take little account 
of the solidity of Scripture. Such an upbringing produces, as it 
were, mutilated and crippled theologians." 

Erasmus had scarcely expressed himself more bitingly. And the 
Ratio studiorum appends a catalogue of quaestiones, some over- 
subtle, some definitely ludicrous, which are not to be handled, as 
for instance, "whether the hairs of the head and body be alive," 
or "whether angels may move instantaneously." 

Scripture is to be explained clearly, intelligently, and without 



EDUCATION AND SCHOLARSHIP 163 

undue lengthincss, "according to its true and literal sense" a 
reaction against the allegories and anagogies of late mediaeval 
theology in a way that much recalls the praelectio on classical 
authors. The essential point is to drive home the moral or spiritual 
lesson to be learnt. One need not indulge in linguistic disquisitions 
for the love of "grammar." As to scholastic theology, the Jesuit 
attitude was inspired by the wish to establish in the order un mismo 
sentir y querer, one only thought and will, as well as to revert to 
the sources of firm, direct reasoning: "Let all our members follow 
the doctrine of St. Thomas and consider him as their own 
teacher. . . ." When difficulties arise, it is enough to reply: "St. 
Thomas says yes, or St. Thomas says no." In regard to philosophy, 
the same unity is to prevail. "In logic, the Constitutions run, in 
natural and moral philosophy, and in metaphysics, the doctrine of 
Aristotle is to be followed." Here again, a thorough understanding 
of the text itself is to be preferred to silly or abstruse quaestiones. 
"Let the professor of philosophy make every effort to interpret the 
text of Aristotle suitably. . . . Let him persuade his hearers that 
their philosophy will be lame and crippled, unless they take this 
study to heart." 

Unity, straight thinking, a concentration upon essentials, both 
morally and intellectually, such are, in theology no less than in 
classical letters, the main features of Jesuit teaching. Such an 
intellectual discipline was bound to bear fruit, and did bear fruit 
of exceptional value in a whole series of theologians, some of whom 
already appeared at the Council of Trent; while in the following 
generation, the most prominent figure among them was undoubtedly 
St. Robert Bellarmine (1542-1621). The latter was a character of 
extraordinary richness and completeness. He was famous as a 
controversialist, but he could also write elegant Latin verse, such 
as the hymn of St. Mary Magdalen's day, Pater superni luminis. 
He shone in the diplomatic field, and also distinguished himself 
as a Jesuit provincial and as the archbishop of Capua. He should 
not be given the whole credit for the Thomist revival, which had 
begun before him in the University of Salamanca; but he confirmed 
it, and gave it its final impulse, when insisting that St. Thomas 
should hold a central position in the Ratio studiorum. His work 
ranged from the emendation of the Vulgate (from which he 
removed errors brought in by Pope Sixtus V) to the reform of 



164 THE CATHOLIC REFORMATION 

the Breviary, from the writing of a catechism, the Doctrtna chns- 
tiana, to disputations with James I of England on the power of 
kings. He appears as one of the most universal men of his own 
time, joining wide scholarship with deep piety; and one can hardly 
blame Clement VIII for having prevailed upon him to swerve 
from the rule of his order, and accept the cardinalate in March 3, 
1599. 

The Pope had, in this matter, taken the advice of another and 
scarcely less illustrious member of the sacred college, the Oratonan 
scholar and historian, Caesar Baronius. The latter is one of the 
most lovable and admirable figures of the Catholic Reformation 
movement. Though less fanciful than St. Philip Neri, whom he 
was to succeed as the superior of the Roman Oratory, he was of a 
km with him through his genial and honest simplicity. He was 
born in the kingdom of Naples in 1538, and when a student in 
Rome, became a disciple of St. Philip and joined his congregation. 
His spiritual father discerned his peculiar abilities, and directed 
him to the study of ecclesiastical history. "He, who was then our 
father," Baronius himself wrote in his good-natured preface, "in- 
duced me to undertake this work, though I was unwilling to 
perform it, for it loaded me with a heavier burden than my weak- 
ness could bear; and so I have sweated in it for some thirty years 
to the best of my ability, God's grace favouring me; for I was 
almost beardless when I began, and now I am all hoary as I write 
this." 

The outcome of Baronius' efforts was the monumental compila- 
tion known as Annales ecclesiastici to some extent a refutation of 
the Protestant Centuriae, written at Magdeburg in 1552. The 
Annales were published from 1588 to 1607 and reached down to 
1198. Though marred by errors, especially in the Greek part, they 
are a work of painstaking and conscientious erudition, provided 
with a very full system of references. Baronius was a man of 
transparent intellectual probity, and was acknowledged as such 
even by his venomous adversary, Fra. Paolo Sarpi. He loved his 
task: "Nothing could be sweeter," he wrote, "for the enjoyment of 
my own mind. . . . The contemplation of the Church ... is like a 
wide door opening out on a vast plain, through which my speech 
may career and joyfully bound." Such alacrity was not exclusive 
of patience; and in fact the Annales provide an instance of critical 



EDUCATION AND SCHOLARSHIP 165 

treatment not unworthy of Baronius' humanistic predecessors: "I 
have treated everything," he says, "in such a way as not to speak 
anything lightly or inconsiderately, anything idly, anything that 
is not propped up by the most approved witness, demonstrated by 
reason and . . . confirmed by a perspicuous and solid truth." In 
fact, we may best conclude the present chapter with the very words 
with which Baronius invoked the blessing of the Holy Ghost upon 
his work, so that he might "through his words, writings, and most 
of all through his manners profess, attest and preach the truth." 
The enthusiasm of the Catholic reformers was not merely ex- 
pressed by "the virtues of their souls," but as we shall now see, by 
"their tongue and their pen" as well. 

BIBLIOGRAPHY 

The literature on Catholic education in the sixteenth and seventeenth 
centuries is extremely rich and no attempt can be made here to survey 
it in a comprehensive way. On Sturm and the Jesuits, the work ot 
Charles Schmidt, La vie et les travaux de Jean Sturm (Strasbourg, 
1855), written from a definitely Protestant standpoint, provides useful 
information; see also Festschrift zur Feter des 350 fahngen Bestehens 
des protestantischen Gymnasiums zu Strassburg (Strasbourg, 1888), with 
a long study by Dr. Hemnch Veil on the pedagogy of Sturm and the 
Brothers of the Common Life; Mitteilungen der Gesellschajt jur deutsche 
Erziehungs- und Schulgeschichte, Jahrgang XI (Berlin, 1901), with an 
essay of Dr. Hans Kaiser on the projected foundation of a Jesuit college 
at Molsheim; Ernest Laas, Die Paedagogi\ des Johannes Sturm (Berlin, 
1872), which is enlightening as to the Christian humanistic character of 
the schools of the Brothers of the Common Life. On the French Protes- 
tant colleges, see Daniel Bourchenm, Etude sur les academies protestantes 
en France aux XVI e et XVII siecle (Paris, 1882), which supplies ample 
information on Protestant education, and has a strongly anti-Jesuit bias, 
though the author brings no evidence to support his charge of plagiarism 
against the Society. The only work in which the question of Protestant 
versus Jesuit pedagogy is discussed at length and in a most illuminating 
way is the book of Prof. Paul Porteau, Montaigne et la vie pedagogique 
de son temps (Pans, 1935), in which it is shown that Jesuit education 
tallied with Montaigne's ideals. 

On the sources of Jesuit pedagogy, see first and foremost the statutes 
of Montaigu College, and various documents referring to it, in Marcel 
Godet, La congregation de Montaigu (Paris, 1912) (Bibhotheque de 
1'Ecole des Hautes etudes) where passages of the statutes are compared. 
with the Constitution* and Rule? of the Societv; and also, in a less crit- 
ical shape, in Michel Felibien, Histoire de la ville de Paris (Paris, 1725), 
torn. IV; Charles Thurot, De I' organisation de I'enseignement dans 



i66 THE CATHOLIC REFORMATION 

I'universite de Pans au Moycn-Age (Paris-Besanc/>n, 1850), which is still 
valuable. Details on John Standonck are found in the latter work, also in 
M. Crevier, Htstoire de I'universite de Paris (Paris, 1761), and Car. 
Jourdain, Index chronologicus chartarum pertinentium ad historian* 
universitatis parisiensis (Parisiis, 1862). On St. Ignatius' life at Mon- 
taigu see Ada sanctorum bollandiana (Julii), torn. VII, and Godet, 
op. cit. 

The main lines of Jesuit pedagogy, both in regard to letters and 
theology, are already supplied in the Constitution's (see the Spanish 
text) and are fully worked out in the Ratio studiorum. The three ver- 
sions of the latter, together with a huge mass of information on the 
same subject, are reprinted in Karl Kehrbach, op. cit., Bande V, IX, XI, 
and XVI, which are the four tomes of G. M. Pachtler, Ratio studiorum 
et Institutiones scholasticae Societatis Jesu per Germaniam olim vigentes 
(Berlin, 1887, 1888, 1890, 1894). Particulars on the revival of theology 
in the early sixteenth century and its teaching at the Roman college 
are supplied by Tacchi-Venturi, Storia della Compagnia di Gesu in 
Italia, Vol. Primo (Roma 1930-1938). The history and life of a Jesuit 
college are described in minute detail in Gustave Dupont-Ferner, La vie 
quotidienne d'un college parisien pendant plus de trois cent cinquante 
ans. Du college de Clermont au Lycee Lout s-le-Gr and, 1563-1921 (Paris, 
1921-1925). The question of Jesuit pedagogy is dealt with as a whole 
in Fr. J. B. Herman, S.J., La pedagogic des Jesuites au XVleme siecle; 
ses sources, ses caractenstiques (Bruxelles 1914); also in three remarkable 
recent works. The former two are theses by Fr. Francois de Damville, 
S.J., Les ]e suites et ^education de la societe fran^aise, I. La geographic 
des humanistes. 11. La naissance de I'humanisme moderne (Paris: 
Beauchesne, 1940). These are elaborate historical works, which provide 
a great wealth of information, whereas the book of Fr. Charmot, S.J., 
La pedagogic des ]e suites, ses principcs, son actualite (Paris, Editions 
Spes, 1943), is rather in the nature of an admirable synthesis. 

On the Oratorian colleges and pedagogy, see Paul Lallemand, Essai 
sur I'histoire de I'education dans I'ancien Oratoire de France (Paris, 
1887), which is informative, but unfortunately unscholarly. On the 
Ursulines, see, among other works, H. de Leymont, Madame de Sainte- 
Beuve et les Ursulines de Paris, 7562-7630 (Lyon, 1890), which is the 
common source of several later works on the subject; Anne Berthout, 
Les Ursulines de Paris sous I'ancien regime (Paris, 1935), a scholarly 
work based on original documents; Canon L. Cristiani, La merveilleuse 
histoire des premieres Ursulines jranqaises (Lyons, 1935). The rule 
issued as Reglemens des religieuses Ursulines de la congregation de Paris, 
though published at Paris as late as 1705, embodies the spirit of an 
earlier period, and should be consulted. 

On Bellarmine, see the excellent and important article sub nom. t 
in Vacant et Mangenot, op. cit.; on Baronius, refer to the preface and 
first part of the Annales Ecclesiastici (Romae, 1607). 



CHAPTER VIII 



The Catholic Reformation and Literature 



WHEN leaving the field of precise legislation whether 
bearing on the Church at large or on religious orders 
to enter upon that of literature and art, one must use 
new methods of approach. The former subject lends itself to exact 
and comprehensive study; the latter's boundaries are not easily 
defined, and it might be pursued to an almost unlimited extent. 
No attempt will therefore be made in the following pages to give 
an exhaustive and systematic account of the influence of the Catholic 
Reformation upon letters, painting, architecture, and music. All 
that can be done is to state the principles which the Catholic 
reformers laid down as a starting-point, and to trace out certain 
general lines of development. First of all, it need hardly be pointed 
out that the need of reformation concerned no less the literary 
life of Christendom than the latter's ecclesiastical discipline. 

The Renaissance of the quattrocento had forgotten the inner 
and deeper sense of religion. This is strikingly revealed by the 
biography and works of the greatest Italian humanist and Latin 
poet of the period, Jovianus Pontanus (1426-1503), the founder of 
the Naples Academy. He held a position of extraordinary repute 
among his contemporaries; kings and princes bowed to him, 
showered favours upon him, raised him to the highest state ap- 
pointments, on account of his classical scholarship. And yet he 
had imbibed the spirit of antiquity so thoroughly as to become 
almost a neo-pagan. Many of his poems are full of the luscious 
sensuousness of the ancients. It will be enough to quote two titles: 
Puellas alloquitur admonens, quid servarc in balneis debeant (The 
poet addresses young girls, and tells them how to behave in the 
baths) and Ad Hermionem, ut papillas contegat (To Hermione, 

167 



168 THE CATHOLIC REFORMATION 

that she may cover up her breasts). It is true that Jovianus Pontanus 
also wrote sacred poetry; but the very fact that his religious lyrics 
should be printed side by side with his licentious compositions, 
shows how far the period was from Christian earnestness. 

The distance covered in the space of the next hundred years 
appears when one considers the attitude of a namesake of the 
Naples humanist, the Jesuit poet, Jacobus Pontanus (1542-1626). 
He inveighed against those who wrote "things far removed from 
virtue, some of them filling up whole books with amatory lewd- 
ness." Poetry, he said, is "an art, which depicts the actions of men, 
and unfolds them in verse, in order to teach them how to live." 
These words give expression to the dominant thought of the 
literary theorists of the Catholic Reformation. They reject that 
ideal of "art for art's sake," which, though the phrase had not 
as yet been coined, was m fact that of the pagan Renaissance. 
In their eyes, poetry is not an end in itself. It is meant "to teach 
while it delights, but to teach more than it delights." Men, however, 
are weak; they are apt to be repelled by bare precepts of virtue, 
and "easily spurn salutary doctrine, unless it be sprinkled with 
allurements and pleasantness." They must be enticed to righteous- 
ness by literary beauty, by the literary beauty which their present-day 
tastes lead them to prefer. Their partiality for Renaissance standards 
should therefore be gratified. Antiquity will remain the model to 
be imitated par excellence; but to be imitated in its outward form 
only, not in its inward spirit of sensuousness. All the unsavoury 
tales of gods and goddesses will be done away with, and replaced 
by Christian elements. Thus a classical garb will be made to 
clothe religious truth, and what was poison will now become an 
aid to spiritual health. 

There was, indeed, nothing new about such a plan. As in the 
case of monastic life and education, a reaction had set in, owing 
to the influence of the Christian humanists. This was true in the 
field of literature as well, m the latter part of the fifteenth century. 
It is proved, in fact, beyond the shadow of a doubt by such pieces 
of literary theory as the two prefaces written in 1499 by Macarms 
Mutius of Camerino, as an introduction to, and apology for, his 
sacred poem, the Triumph of Christ: "I have often wondered," he 
says, "and bewailed more than once, that some who are lacking 
neither in wit, nor in scholarship, nor in eloquence, should be 



THE CATHOLIC REFORMATION AND LITERATURE 169 

at idle pains to tell ridiculous stories, and relate shameful inventions, 
yea mostly fables; when they might, for the advantage of posterity 
and for their own renown, write, to their no small praise, those 
things which would incite men to virtuous manners, to the seeking 
of righteousness, and the acquiring of a good name." He rejects 
the distinction which is made by some, between the poet's life 
and his works; the former cannot be clean if the latter are impure; 
and they are bound to be of doubtful purity, so long as they 
recount the tales of ancient mythology. However, uncleanness is 
not inherent in poetry; she can vindicate herself by leaving out 
all that is unchaste, so as to "dig gold out of rubbish, and cautiously 
to pluck roses out of a thickset bush of thorns." Has not an example 
been set by the Bible itself? "What is there (in secular literature), 
that is more beautiful than Deuteronomy and the songs of Isaiah? 
What, more weighty than Solomon? What, more perfect than Job?" 
The first centuries of the Church had their sacred poets as well, 
Juvencus, Sedulius, Arator, Prudentius, Fortunatus. The present 
generation cannot produce anyone to compare with them, and 
ought to be ashamed of itself. And yet, what is there about 
Christian subjects that should make them unsuitable for poetical 
treatment ? 

"I know," Mutius adds, "that this statement will be received by 
some with laughter and contempt; but after all, the themes of 
ancient mythology, which these men accept, are not so very dif- 
ferent from ours. The descent of Christ into Hell is no more 
surprising than that of Ulysses or Aeneas, of Hercules or Orpheus 
to Tartarus. Why be shy of mentioning the Trinity in Latin verse? 
Jupiter, Neptune, and Pluto were a triple godhead. The con- 
secrated bread in the Eucharist is divine food: so were nectar and 
ambrosia. The birth of Christ was miraculous. What about that 
of Venus? The name of Christ, you say, is not harmonious. Is 
Chnstus less so than the Latin word crista? Besides, we have a 
rich store of classical periphrases at our disposal. Let us call our 
Lord, like Jupiter, 'the thundering one/ or 'the worker of all 
things,' or 'the omnipotent father.' " 

In a word, Macarius Mutius lays the foundation of what we may 
call Christian neo-classicism; he ushers in the literature of the 
Catholic Reformation. 

One is naturally tempted to trace back the birth of the latter 



170 THE CATHOLIC REFORMATION 

to the Council of Trent. It is a fact that the great Church assembly 
was steeped in an atmosphere of classicism one finds the legate, 
Cervini, quoting Horace and that it was careful to ensure for 
its enactments the benefit of humanistic editing. Its respect for 
classical form is revealed in its treatment of lewd books: they are 
to be "prohibited altogether; and yet, such works, if ancient and 
written by pagans, are allowed on account of the elegance and 
propriety of their style; though they are not to be read to children 
on any account." In other words, the Council, while rejecting pagan 
immorality, sanctions the literary ideal of the Renaissance. 

No wonder, therefore, that the Jesuit critics of the late sixteenth 
century should have done the same, and attempted to clothe 
Christian truth in a classical garb. The most famous one among 
them, Antonius Possevmus, took over the literary theories of 
Macarius Mutius, whom he quoted in support of his views. He 
provided a general review of Christian poetry in his treatise, 
published in 1593, DC poesi et picture* ethnica, humana et jabulosa, 
collata cum vera et sacra (Pagan, human and fabulous poetry and 
painting, compared with true and sacred poetry). Like his Christian 
humanistic predecessor, he viewed it as a real and formidable 
danger that his contemporaries should be exposed to the influence 
of pagan morals and thought. Like him also, he was anxious to 
find justification in the past for the alliance of Christian doctrine 
and classical form; therefore he drew up a catena of writers, who 
might prove its ancient origin and its continuity through the ages. 

He begins this list long before Christ, for there are pagan 
authors such as Ennius, Horace, and Persius who, while they have 
not written of sacred things, have left their compositions, "at any 
rate, free from obscenity." But in the works of some others among 
the "Gentiles," the first intimations of religious truth may be dis- 
cerned. Has not Sophocles proclaimed "the only true God, who 
created Heaven and earth," and inveighed against "the images of 
deities made of stone or wood, gold or ivory?" Has he not, like 
Philemon, foretold Judgement Day? Has not Virgil composed the 
whole of his fourth eclogue to declare, in a scarcely veiled way, 
the mysteries of the Incarnation and Redemption? In Possevinus' 
opinion, "whatever the Gentiles babbled of their gods, they wrote 
it either from fear of the magistrates, or because their sins blinded 
the sharp eye of their minds." In fact, they frequently "derided 



THE CATHOLIC REFORMATION AND LITERATURE 171 

their own false gods." There was, despite appearances, a pre- 
ordained harmony between classicism and the Christian religion. 
This harmony was not fully revealed before Christ. It appeared 
clearly in the early centuries of the history of the Church. The 
Fathers, St. Gregory Nazianzen, St. Damascene, St. Ambrose, and 
the Venerable Bede, wrote devotional or theological works in 
classical Greek and Latin; and much stress is laid on the Christian 
poets of the late Empire, such as Arator, Prudentius, Ausonius. 
The Jesuit critic naturally enough leaves out the Middle Ages, 
the barbarous latinity of which was probably below his standards, 
and thus misses much that is of value, in hymnology especially; but 
he takes up the thread with such of the Renaissance humanists 
as had turned to Christian themes: Antonius Geraldinus, Vida, 
Sannazar, Sadolet, Arias Montanus; and he finally ends up with 
the Jesuit poets of his own age: Andreas Frusius, Antonius 
Quaerengius, Franciscus Bencius, Jacobus Pontanus. 

This attempt to connect classical form with Christian beliefs so 
closely that they could not be separated was unanimously supported 
by the literary theorists of the Catholic Reformation. The languages 
and style of the ancients assumed some of the hallowed character 
of religion itself. They became almost sacred. They were set up 
as models which could scarcely be improved upon. Hence, we 
have the principles which governed the literary production of the 
post-Trentine age, and especially its Latin verse for the space of 
two centuries, and of which some remote effects may occasionally 
be felt even now. 

These principles are best expounded by Jacobus Pontanus in 
his Institutiones poeticae, published in 1594. He grants, it is true, 
at the outset, that poetry may consist in the direct "imitation" of 
nature, its purpose being "to represent the actions of men," ac- 
cording to the classical ideal which Pope later expressed in his 
famous line, "The proper study of mankind is man." But very 
soon the Jesuit critic alters the sense of the word "imitation," which 
he now refers to the reproduction of a model. "Let us propose to 
ourselves," he says, "some illustrious examples and apply to them 
our whole mind, our whole study and reflection, and having 
grasped their images with our inward sense, transfer them to 
our own writings. ... We should however," he adds slily, "expend 
our whole labour so that those things should seem not theirs, but 



172 THE CATHOLIC REFORMATION 

ours; although learned men cannot be taken in by our borrowings." 
What is more, the pleasure reaped from reading poetry is not due 
to its originality, but on the contrary to its likeness with known 
types. 

It is obvious that such a theory, if strictly adhered to, would 
have done away with inspiration altogether. Now there were, in 
the literary life of the Catholic Reformation, two conflicting 
tendencies. On the one hand, the Catholic reformers were so averse 
to the licentious freedom of the Renaissance, its unrestricted enjoy- 
ment of nature and the senses, its sporting frolicsomeness and 
brutal lusts, its worship of glory and exaltation of human pride, 
that they advised restraint in every form of human activity, in- 
cluding literature. They distrusted passion; they preferred poetical 
forms in which the mind alone displayed its ingenuity, to those in 
which the heart unburdened itself of its burning feelings. They 
favoured the ideal of the golden mean, the composed and balanced 
attitude of the classical writer. They were often partial to preciosity, 
to concetti and mannerisms, as against spontaneity and lyricism 
They treated poetry, not as the free outpouring of men's emotions, 
but as a technical exercise, in which success was to be ensured by 
sedulous study and strict discipline. 

But, on the other hand, they belonged to a militant movement 
animated by soldierlike alacrity. Whatever they did, even in the 
field of poetry and eloquence, was done with fiery enthusiasm. 
They felt an ardent love of Christ, an ardent desire of His glory, 
an ardent craving for martyrdom. Passion, which had been re- 
jected in its purely human shape, reappeared in the expression of 
religious feeling. Hence a twofold aspect in the literature of the 
Catholic Reformation. Much of it brings into play mere skill and 
ingenuity: such is the case, though not uniformly so, for the 
lighter forms of lyrical poetry. But in regard to epic poetry and 
the drama, where men and women are made to feel and to live 
before us, where the theme is generally provided by heroic actions, 
performed in obedience to the call of God, no such frigidity 
prevails, and the highest pitch of emotion is often reached. We 
shall turn first of all to the former class of productions, which, 
whatever its merits, is in every way the less remarkable of the two. 

The main element, in the composition of such pieces, is, accord- 
ing to Pontanus, the following of carefully chosen models. Now, 



THE CATHOLIC REFORMATION AND LITERATURE 173 

it is easy to protest indignantly against such a literary ideal, and to 
denounce it as artificial and scarcely honest. But after all, is not 
every poet, however spontaneous his art, formed to a large extent 
by imitation? How else is the technique of the literary craftsman 
to be acquired? And, in fact, it cannot be denied that the Latin 
poets of the Catholic Reformation were remarkably successful 
in reproducing and adapting to Christian subjects the composed 
harmony of Virgil, the sweet plaintiveness of Ovid, or the terse 
wit of Martial. It must be confessed, however, that they were also 
at a disadvantage. Their means of expression was not plastic 
enough; their very adherence to "pure" latinity tied them down 
to a fixed literary language which was necessarily stilted and 
precluded homeliness. Nor was variety or innovation allowed 
in metrical forms either. Hence it is that the humanistic hymns 
of the sixteenth century, though in better Latin than those of fhe 
Middle Ages, scarcely equal their pathetic intensity. Add that the 
Catholic reformers' distrust of passion led to a conception of poetry 
in which beauty did not gush up from inside, but was added on 
from outside in the shape of "ornaments"; in which it was the 
product, not of genuine emotion, but of sedate, quiet, and me- 
thodical reflection. "The poet," Possevinus writes, "is not only an 
imitator, but a man of surpassing ingenuity, and carried away by 
his mind; who does not use trite and colloquial words, but words . . . 
sought from afar; who represents great things, things admirable, 
abstruse things, out-of-the-way things." 

The lighter poetry of the Catholic Reformation was therefore 
most successful where skilfulness and wit came into play, and its 
chief beauties were found in conceits and preciosity. 

The Latin poets of the Catholic Reformation tried their hand 
at every one of the classical genres, at epics, odes, epigrams, elegies 
each of these being extended to a surprising variety of themes. Thus 
there is an epigram, by Franciscus Raimundus, On a certain young 
man, who rushed away from the paternal home, and fled to Rome, 
to seef( admission in a religious order; and among the odes, we 
find one by Franciscus Torsellinus, also a Jesuit, entitled: Cradle- 
Song of the Virgin Mary to the Infant Christ, which is touching 
and sweetly motherly, with its refrain, "Now sleep, my life, my 
light, o sleep." But however varied in inspiration and mood, most 
of this literary production is scriptural, and unceasingly reverts 



174 THE CATHOLIC REFORMATION 

to the various parts of the Gospel story, unless it occasionally 
wander to the lives of the saints. A list of sacred subjects is 
supplied by Father Jacobus Pontanus, and more or less coincides 
with the liturgical cycle. It was, of course, easier to establish unity 
of purpose and matter among the writers mostly ecclesiastical 
who wrote in Latin, than among those who used their mother- 
tongue, and who were distracted by worldly interests. Nevertheless, 
these also followed suit to a large extent, and we may say that the 
Latin compositions of the Catholic reformers really set the tune 
for the vernacular devotional poetry of the period. 



Italy would, of course, be the first to come under the influence 
of the new spirit; and, in fact, no sooner had the Council of Trent 
come to a close than the leading writer of the time, Torquato 
Tasso (1544-1595), gave expression to the literary ideals of the 
Catholic Reformation, in his Discorsi. He quotes Horace on 
prodesse and delectare, and like the Jesuit critics, emphatically 
declares for the former purpose. "Poetry," he says, quoting 
Eratosthenes, "is the first philosophy, which from our tender years, 
instructs us as to good manners and right living. . . ." "A good 
poet," he adds with Strabo, "must needs be a righteous man." 

What is true of verse in general is even truer in the case of that 
genre which was most in keeping with the conquering ardour of 
the Trentine generation, the poema eroico. "Epic poetry," he says, 
as contrasted with the drama, "requires the highest degree of all 
virtues; for the characters are heroic like virtue itself." Tasso feels 
less scruple than the Jesuits in regard to love, which he willingly 
introduces into his compositions on account of its "great beauty"; 
but if it be not directed towards Christ himself, or towards a 
brother-warrior, if its object be woman, let it at any rate be 
"knightly love. . . , not merely passion and sensual desire, but, 
according to the words of St. Thomas, a most noble haviour of 
the will." Generally speaking, for the heroic poem should be 
chosen "an action of the utmost nobleness." 

While writing his Discorsi, Tasso was labouring to apply his 
own principles. His purpose was to write a Christian Iliad, and 
in fact he closely followed the model given by Homer in his 
Gierusalemme liberata (Jerusalem Delivered} which was completed 



THE CATHOLIC REFORMATION AND LITERATURE 175 

in 1575. He chose for his subject the first Crusade, which he dealt 
with in a highly fanciful way, introducing classical "episodes," 
defiances, and single fights, Goffredo and Solimanno replacing 
Achilles and Hector. Nor is the stage machinery of antiquity 
absent. Supernatural powers intervene in the fight for Jerusalem. 
Pagan deities had of course to be eliminated from the divine hosts, 
and thus the crusaders are assisted by God, St. Michael, guardian 
angels, and holy hermits. But there was no harm in enlisting 
the false gods of pagan mythology among the infernal army, and 
thus we find Alecto side by side with Beelzebub, and the en- 
chantress, Armida, who bears the closest likeness to Circe. The 
Christian character of the poem is, however, very strongly as- 
serted: before facing the prodigies of the enchanted forest, Rinaldo 
confesses his sins to Peter the hermit, and goes to Mount Olivet 
to pray at dawn. The spirit of the old mediaeval romance of 
chivalry here rejoins the heroic mood of the Catholic Reformation. 

But even more than in heroic poetry, the direct influence of 
the Catholic Reformation is manifested in what we might call 
the "cycle of remorse," which had its birth in Italy and spread 
to the whole of Western Europe. The tearful expression of con- 
trition was of course no new thing in Christian literature. The 
twelfth-century Archithrenius or arch-weeper of Jean de Hantville 
had been shown as roaming all through the world, lamenting the 
sins and vices of man. Nevertheless repentance was not prominent 
even among the religious compositions of the Renaissance poets, 
who were pleased with life as it was, and did not consider this 
earth as a vale of tears. But it reappeared in full force after the 
Council of Trent, when the Church had made its children rueful 
for their past lasciviousness. The two main themes of the "cycle," 
which provided poets with endless variations, were the remorse 
of St. Peter after he had denied Christ, and the remorse of St. 
Mary Magdalen after her conversion; and the works which re- 
spectively headed the two long files of poems on each of the two 
subjects were Luigi Tansillo's Lagrime di San Pietro (St. Peter's 
Tears) and Erasmo de Valvasone's Lagrime della Maddalena (The 
Tears of St. Mary Magdalen). 

Luigi Tansillo (1510-1565) supplies in his own person an instance 
of a conversion from Renaissance paganism to Trentine Catholicism. 
The most famous one among his early poems, // Vendemmiatore 



176 THE CATHOLIC REFORMATION 

(The Grapegatherer), was licentious; so that the author, whom 
one of his editors calls "the gatherer of sour grapes," was placed 
upon the index by the Church, and "had to drink for some time 
the wine of his Mother's wrath." He made amends, however, 
by inditing the Lagrime, the beginning of which was published 
in 1560. The amatory vein of his first compositions still inspired 
parts of his devotional poem, and the latter was expurgated and 
recast by a Roman commission of Jesuit Fathers. Tansillo had 
compared the glance which Christ cast to Peter, thus silently 
rebuking him, to lovers' looks, which speak without words: the 
whole stanza was done away with. Owing to this and similar 
corrections, the Lagrime bear almost an official stamp; they may 
be considered as a model proposed by Rome to Catholic poets. 
Of course, Tansillo's personality is not wholly obliterated; it appears 
to us as quite Italian. He is garrulous, as in Peter's endless 
soliloquies; his descriptions that of the sculptures in the temple 
of Jerusalem for instance are pictorial and brilliant. He loves 
tawdry ornaments, and takes pleasure in displaying to us the 
riches of Isaiah's apparel when he meets Peter: 

To him he comes in garb of richer kind 
Than lord's or royal king's, of wealth untold; 
Afire with purple his gown, with purple lined, 
Studded with costly gems, and hemmed with gold. 

Obviously Tansillo views poetical expression as something more 
external than intimate, and feels a partiality for exuberant mimicry 
and lively colour. So much for the negative side. But on the 
positive side, his talent and facility as a versifier cannot be denied, 
and his poem contains more than that "tinsel" which, according 
to Boileau, was the sole beauty of Tasso's Gterusalemme. Tansillo 
is admirable as a painter of nature, whether he describe a summer 
night, or a spring storm in an Alpine wood. But the value of his 
poem should be assessed in connection with its purpose, which is 
essentially religious, as he himself declares, when about to recount 
the sufferings of Christian martyrs: "That ancient piety be re- 
newed . . . and men aroused to follow blessed tracks." 

In fact, the Lagrime are not only a Christian epic, they are the 
epitome, the condensed sum total of all possible Christian epics. 
This long poem of nine hundred and ten stanzas in ottava rima, 



THE CATHOLIC REFORMATION AND LITERATURE 177 

or 7280 lines, is not a continuous whole, but a succession 6f episodes, 
in which is reviewed the whole history o the Church, from the 
Creation down to the author's own time. St. Peter is represented 
as wandering disconsolately during the whole of the three days 
between his denial of Christ and the Resurrection. He meets with 
a number of adventures, which provide the occasion for so many 
digressions. He first repairs to the Garden of Olives, then to the 
house of the Last Supper, then gets a glimpse of the procession of 
the Cross. Afterwards he visits the temple, which is adorned 
with stone carvings which represent the chief events of the Old 
Testament, and, symbolically, the history of Christendom. Even- 
tually he retires to a cave outside the town, and during the night 
he has visions and dreams which are a succession of pictures from 
the New Testament. After the shepherds who worshipped the 
infant Jesus have been made the occasion for a pastoral passage 
in the jortunatos vein, in compliance with contemporary tastes, 
Tansillo brings Isaiah upon the stage. The latter shows Peter 
visions of the martyrs, and describes to him Christ's descent into 
hell and the joy of heaven on welcoming the souls rescued there- 
from; and here, as a tale within a tale within a tale, Solomon sings 
the Creation and Fall of man. Lastly, Peter meets St. John, who 
narrates to him the story of the Passion, bringing it down to St. 
Mary Magdalen's visit at the tomb. The poem, which is unfinished, 
breaks off here: one wonders what further developments its 
author may have contemplated. 

The faults of such a composition its lack of unity, its incoher- 
ency, its artificiality are too obvious to need stressing. Real 
beauties, however, are not lacking, especially in the Pianto primo 
the first lament or book which was published separately at first, 
and is far simpler and more direct in its emotion than the rest of 
the work. But the chief interest of the poem lies in the fact that 
it is a model and a starting-point. It met with extraordinary favour. 
Together with Erasmo de Valvasone's Lagrime dclla Maddalena, 
it was printed in its final, though incomplete, shape, in 1585, then 
again in 1587, 1592, 1598, and 1599. The fragment which had first 
appeared in Italy in 1560 was freely translated into Spanish by 
Luys Calves de Montalvo, under the title of El llanto de Sant Pedro 
1598) ; in French by Robert Estienne (Les larmes de Sainct Pierre, 
editions of 1595 and 1606) and by the illustrious Malherbe (Les 



178 THE CATHOLIC REFORMATION 

larmes de S. Pierre imitees du Tansille, editions in 1587, 1596, and 
1598); in English by the Jesuit father, Robert Southwell, who 
afterwards kept the Lagrime in mind when indicting his own 
St. Peters Complaint (editions in 1595 [twice], 1597, 1599, 1600, 
1602 [twice], 1615, 1616, 1620, 1634 [twice], 1636). There were 
numerous imitations, which traded on the success of Southwell's 
work, such as Saint Peters Ten Teares (1597, 1602), St. Peters Path 
to the Joys of Heaven (1598), Samuel Rowlands' Betraying of 
Christ (1598), and others. 

A similar swarming of translations, adaptations, and imitations 
followed upon the appearance of Valvasone's poem on Mary 
Magdalen. And yet the favour that it met with on every hand gives 
rise to some wonder. Though the purpose of the writer is un- 
doubtedly a devout one, he sacrifices so much to the decadent 
tastes of the period that he turns to little advantage the possibilities 
here open for pious lyricism. 

In length his poem is not such a considerable piece of work as 
Tansillo's. It includes only seventy-six stanzas in ottava rima, or 
six hundred and eight lines; and yet its author finds ample room 
in it for hollow amplification. He first of all represents Mary 
Magdalen in the cold and dreary solitude to which she is pictured 
as having retired after the Ascension; and then resumes the story 
of her life from the beginning, taking the opportunity offered 
here to describe, with true Italian sensuousness and relish, the 
beauty which was the occasion of her fall. Then follow the various 
incidents borrowed from the Gospel narrative: Mary Magdalen 
hears of the coming of a "great hero" (for thus is Christ referred 
to); she dons her finest garments and jewels (another opening is 
found here for gaudy description) and sallies forth to meet him. 
At his sight a sudden change takes place in her; the horrid monster 
that caused her to sin comes out of her mouth in the shape of a 
seven-tongued flame surrounded with smoke. She feels "her lover's" 
glance pierce through her like lightning; throws her chains and 
bracelets at his feet; and then behaves towards the "divine hero, 
who enamours her," like a little dog who caresses his master, 
because he wants to be fed by him. With her golden hair she wipes 
away the tears with which she has watered "the holy feet." For, 
from now on, she begins weeping and will continue in tears until 



THE CATHOLIC REFORMATION AND LITERATURE 179 

the end of the poem. Hearing that "her lover" is in prison and 
ill-treated, she rushes towards him like a Maenad, with torn 
clothes and dishevelled locks, and finds him on the cross, near 
which she wakens the echoes with her waitings. Then Valvasone 
recounts the famous scene at the tomb. After the Resurrection 
Mary Magdalen, like a dove seeking her spouse whom thunder has 
driven away, follows the footsteps of her "beloved chief," still 
weeping; and when he has returned to the right hand of his 
Father, she wanders away to mountains, crags, and caverns, where 
she can more easily think of heaven. There, clothed only with her 
flowing hair, she makes the rocks and oaks fall in love with her! 
Hereupon follows an apostrophe to the "sweet pains" and "fortunate 
horrors" that surround her, until at last her soul is carried up to 
the holy place where she is again to meet with "her lover." 

Valvasone's work is an extreme example of the peculiar and not 
altogether pleasant colouring that the Italian temperament gave 
to the poetry of the Catholic Reformation. There is little in it that 
tells of the inward life of the soul; the expression of feeling is 
outward, not intimate. One is forcibly reminded of one of those 
pictures of the same period, in which there are vehement gestures, 
distorted features, and eyes dramatically upturned to heaven; also 
of Tasso's piece, included in a typical Collection of tears (Raccolta 
di Lagrime) of 1593, in which, according to its preface, he describes 
a painting of our Lady "in the act of devout contemplation; and 
shows in such a lively way her holy eyes full of tears, and her 
holy cheeks watered with drops so true and plentiful, that they 
deceive the sight of the onlookers and invite every pious hand to 
dry them." 

We have here the trick of deception, so much in favour with 
Italian painters. More generally, in the Lagrime, the external aspect 
of things is the only one insisted on. Hence the really successful 
descriptions of nature or of plastic beauty, the glittering passages 
on dress and jewellery. There is about the poetry of Valvasone a 
remnant of Renaissance paganism; and he is strangely shy of the 
names of Christ or Jesus, which he does not once utter. Add to 
this the easy, good-humoured, irreverent familiarity with which he 
handles the theme of Mary Magdalen's conversion at Jesus' feet; 
and the equally untimely display of punning wit. All this shows 



180 THE CATHOLIC REFORMATION 

how much leeway had to be taken up by the Catholic Reformation, 
before bringing Christian poetry to the chastened simplicity and 
intimacy which were to make it worthy of its object. 

Valvasone's sensuousness, however, was not a permanent feature; 
and it disappeared from the works of his numerous imitators in 
France, Spain, and England. But the mingled tearfulness and 
preciosity lasted on for many decades. It reappears in a sweetly 
pretty series of sonnets published in 1597 at Paris under the title 
of La Magddeine repentie (Repentant Magdalen) in which the 
saint's retired life is referred to by herself in the following words: 

For there, I hear no sound but chatty chirping 
Which feathered songsters utter in the woods, 
Their warble wedding to my woeful weeping; 

For if in my retreat I sing the rhymes 

Of God's great harper, herald, prophet king, 

They sing with me, with me their chorus chimes. 

Such delicate daintiness is not always present, however, in the 
numberless Tears published at the end of the sixteenth and the 
beginning of the seventeenth centuries. The fashion was set in 
England by Robert Southwell, S.J., whose Mary Magdalen's Tears 
were printed in 1594. This was a prose work though of a highly 
poetical turn and harked back, beyond Trent, to the Franciscan 
mysticism of the fourteenth century. But the choice of the theme 
betrays the influence of the Roman environment in which the 
author had spent many years, and it cannot be doubted that the 
success of his composition induced many rhymers to follow in 
his footsteps with Tears of various descriptions, many of them 
inferior. 

While all the authors of these poems were not professedly 
Catholics, they all came under the influence of the Trentme move- 
ment. Gervase Markham's Tears of the Beloved (1600) is devoted 
to the "moanings" of St. John the Apostle; but the same poet 
published in 1604 his Mary Magdalens lamentations for the loss 
of her maister Jesus. A similar theme is again reverted to in Nicholas 
Breton's Blessed Weeper (1601) and in an anonymous poem on 
Mary Magdalen's Conversion (1603). The latter gives no proof 
of high poetical gifts, but we still find in it the "pleasant horrors" 
of the saint's retreat in the woods: 



THE CATHOLIC REFORMATION AND LITERATURE 181 

Shall we betake us to a Hercmitage, 

In some wilde desert unto men unknowne, 

And there weare out the remnant of our age, 

Filling the wide woodes with our ceaseless moane, 

Lette me take part of this thy heavy cheare, 

And for ech sigh of thine lie spend a teare? 

The tradition is continued by two anonymous poems, Mary 
Magdalen's Lamentations (1604) and Saint Mary Magdalens Pil- 
grimage to Paradise (1617) and by Thomas Robinson's Life and 
Death of Mary Magdalen (1636), until we come to the most 
famous one of the compositions of this cycle, Richard Crashaw's 
Weeper. This appeared in 1646 in London, as the first item of the 
author's Steps to the Temple. The superiority of the piece over all 
previous ones need hardly be stressed. It is enough to quote the 
best-known stanza: 

Not in the evening's eyes 
When they red with weeping are, 

For the sun that dyes, 
Sits sorrow with a face so faire. 
Nowhere but heere did ever meet 
Sweetnesse so sad, sadnes so sweet. 

Yet this very example brings confirmation of what we have said 
above in regard to the literary ideal of the Catholic Reformation. 
Even here, though there be emotion of a kind, the main feature 
is wit. Right up to the end, the Trentine movement in letters 
favoured preciosity. Should it be taken to task on that account, 
as having approved of artificiality and affectation? That it did 
so cannot be doubted: it had its reasons for preferring a rightly 
poised mind to an often misguided heart, and thus for showing 
partiality for an intellectual form of poetry. Yet this is not the 
essential point about its action. It achieved one main result, that 
of turning the tide of literary tastes towards pious themes treated 
in a devout spirit. Whatever its faults, besides, the new literary 
school was not incapable of giving expression to genuine and 
natural feeling. In England, in the reign of Queen Elizabeth, 
Catholic poetry was not merely witty. The persecuted Recusants, 
cheered by missionaries who brought with them from the Con- 
tinent the influence of Trent, sang their sufferings, comforts, and 
hopes in verse that often reaches to the highest pitch of plucky 



182 THE CATHOLIC REFORMATION 

resolution; not to speak of the pathetic melancholy, moral earnest- 
ness, or sweet tenderness of some of their compositions. What can 
be more touching and more devoutly true than Richard Verstegan's 
poem entitled Our Lady's Lullaby, in which the Virgin Mary thus 
speaks to the Infant Jesus: 

And when I kiss his loving lips 
Then his sweet smelling breath 
Doth yield a savor to my soule, 
That feedes love, hope and faith. 

Sing lullaby my little boy, 

Sing lullaby my lives joy. 

It was not lyrical poetry, however, which was destined to give 
an adequate expression to the militant and heroic ideal of the 
Catholic Reformation. This task was reserved for the drama, to 
which we shall now turn. 



How the drama flourished under the direct influence of the 
Catholic Reformation, is at present rarely suspected. No wonder, 
since it mostly consisted in college plays in elaborate Latin, which 
proficient classical scholars alone could understand. It is a pity 
that they should now be out of reach of the general public, for 
the oblivion into which they have fallen is wholly undeserved, 
and their influence upon the development of secular drama has 
been an important one. 

College drama, whether reminiscent of mediaeval morality plays 
or of a more humanistic cast, was, in the mid-sixteenth century, 
far more important than the ordinary public stage; but it partook 
more of the rowdiness and wild spirits of the students than of the 
seriousness and gravity of academic pursuits. In 1553, a tragedy, 
Captive Cleopatra, and a comedy, Eugene or the Encounter, both 
by Jodelle, were acted at Boncourt College in Pans. How unsuit- 
able the latter was for the purpose of education, is shown by its 
subject: the chief character is an abbot who gets his mistress, a 
naughty hussy, to marry a bumpkin, so that he may freely enjoy 
his amour with her. The same may be said of two comedies by 
Grevin, The Treasurer's Wife and The Gapers, acted in 1558 
and 1560 at Beauvais College in Paris. It is not surprising, in view 
of such excesses, that the early regulations drafted for Jesuit teachers 



THE CATHOLIC REFORMATION AND LITERATURE 183 

should have evidenced distrust towards college drama. The rules 
of the Society express themselves as follows regarding the duties 
of the Father provincial: "Let him but very seldom allow comedies 
or tragedies to be performed, and these only if in Latin and 
decent; and let him first of all examine them, or hand them to 
others to be examined; and forbid that these plays or suchlike 
should be acted in church." 

At the outset, theatrical performances in the Jesuit colleges were 
hedged in with strict precautions. An ordinance of Fr. Oliverius 
Manareus, visitor of the Rhine province, dated 1583, forbids the 
use of sacred vestments or vessels as stage properties, or the re- 
production on the stage of holy ceremonies, such as benedictions 
or excommunications or funerals, and the singing of psalms or 
liturgical pieces*. No priests or religious persons are allowed to 
act a part. Public performances should be authorized by the 
provincial, except in the case of an urgent order from the prince. 
All plays are to be examined in advance by the rector or the prefect 
of studies, so as to avoid let the words be carefully noted 
"anything silly, or unpolished, or lacking in gravity or seemliness." 
Yet the enthusiasm of the Jesuits for letters in general, and for 
their embodiment of classical scholarship in the drama, prevailed 
m the long run; and some of the more stringent prescriptions 
were discarded. Female characters had been wholly barred at first. 
In 1603, the province of Upper Germany explained to the Father 
general that it was impossible not to introduce them, "whether in 
profane or in sacred comedies." The reply was that permission was 
given to do so with due moderation and decency. Later on it 
became a rule in German colleges that solemn performances should 
take place yearly or at any rate every three years. 

In fact college drama, though this is not generally realized 
nowadays, was to flourish in an astounding way in the Jesuit 
houses, frorri the late sixteenth century to the suppression of the 
Society in the late eighteenth, and to play a first-rate part in the 
public and literary life of such towns as Paris. The plays drew 
numerous audiences, extending far beyond the immediate circle 
of acquaintance of the pupils, and including many noblemen and 
burghers. In the twenty-one colleges of the Society's province of 
the Lower Rhine, between 1597 and 1761, no fewer than five 
hundred and two plays were performed. At the College de Clermont 



184 THE CATHOLIC REFORMATION 

in Paris, it is difficult to ascertain the exact number of tragedies 
and comedies acted before 1635. There were undoubtedly a good 
many. But for the period extending from 1635 to I 7^ I > we reac h 
the surprising figure of two hundred and thirteen, including ballets. 
Plays were performed in every Jesuit college throughout Europe, 
from Diisseldorf in Germany to Coimbra in Portugal, and even 
in far-away Asia. The Life of St. Francis Xavier was put upon the 
stage, at the beginning of 1624, on the square before the church at 
Goa; and one hears of a Tamil version of The Triumph of David 
over Goliath, and even of a play called Josaphat, written in Tamil 
by the native author, Aroulanda, both of these being acted in 
Pondicherry. 

Such outstanding success is not due to any strikingly new 
departure in the dramatic technique of the Jesuits. Their part, 
in this respect, was exactly the same as in the case of other literary 
forms. They invented nothing, but they adapted to a religious 
purpose the genres that were already extant. They brought back 
to moral purity and classical good taste the stage which in the 
early sixteenth century had been revelling in the full exuberance 
of Renaissance paganism. Their purpose is clearly outlined in a 
document of the province of the Upper Rhine, dated 1619: 

"Let all plays be suited to the end intended by the Society, to 
wit, to move men's souls to detest lewd manners and perverted 
habits, to flee from the occasion of sin, to apply themselves to 
virtue, to imitate the saints. If the lives of these are represented 
upon the stage, let not those things, which they did worthily and 
holily, and which can serve as a model, be treated meagrely and 
casually, while ridiculous fancies, which are not in point, and 
childish trifles, are dealt with at full length." 

The whole of the moral and literary ideal of classicism is found 
in the above words, as it was to appear in the plays of Corneille: 
heroic devotion to duty as expressed in the themes of the plays, 
soberness and tastefulness in the handling of the subject. There were 
subsidiary motives also to induce Jesuit educators to foster the 
practice of college theatricals. Their pupils, they thought, would 
learn on the stage how to deport themselves in public and private 
life, at once boldly and modestly; they would be helped in their 
study of rhetoric, train their memory, improve their delivery, 
develop their intelligence and taste; not to mention that they would 



THE CATHOLIC REFORMATION AND LITERATURE 185 

be prone to imitate the noble characters whom they impersonated. 

Thus did the drama gradually assume a prominent part in the 
life of the Jesuit and also of the Oratorian colleges. It was, how- 
ever, no new departure, and here again, the Jesuits merely expanded 
the work which had been begun by the Christian humanists. 
Early in the century, the latter had begun a reaction against the 
licentiousness of the stage. In 1537, Nicholas Bartholeaeus, a prior 
of Notre-Dame de Bonne Nouvelle at Orleans, got his scholars to 
perform his devout play, Christus Xylonicus (Christ on the Cross). 
The Protestants also turned the drama to religious purposes; they 
were early in the field with Theodore de Beze's Sacrifice of Abra- 
ham, a tragedy with a chorus, performed by students at Lausanne 
and Geneva in 1552, and with the Holy Tragedies of Desmazures 
(David, 1556). In 1544, Montaigne, who was a pupil at the College 
de Guyenne m Bordeaux, had acted a part there, at the age of 
eleven, in a pious tragedy of George Buchanan, entitled Jephthes. 
It is only in 1558 that we meet with the performance of a play in 
a Jesuit house at Billom; in 1570, Fr. Luis da Cruz's Sedectas was 
performed in Coimbra; while in 1579, on commencement day at 
the College de Clermont in faris, a tragedy called Herod was 
acted "to the edification of all and the admiration of most people." 

Such "admiration" the Jesuits did their best to obtain, once 
they had become convinced of the usefulness of college plays; and 
they had recourse to every resource which the stage put at their 
disposal, to please the eye and move the heart of the spectators. 
This was not done^owever, in a uniform way, and one meets 
in Jesuit drama with the most varied kinds of inspiration and 
technique, ranging from blood-and-thunder Elizabethanism to the 
soberest French classicism. The chief models were, of course, sought 
in antiquity, Seneca for tragedy, for comedy Terence and Plautus 
preferably % Plautus, who was said to be more "moral." But there 
was considerable freedom in the imitation of the ancients. Verse 
was generally used verse of a kind at any rate, which scarcely 
lends itself to scansion. Yet prose also occasionally appears, and 
there is an actio oratoria by Fr. Nicholas Caussin, Hermenegildus, 
in which the author, in his dedication to Cardinal Henry de Gondi, 
justifies his use of the soluta oratio on account of its greater freedom 
and naturalness. Various means were used to relieve the attention 
of the spectators: comedy was mixed with tragedy; interludes were 



i86 THE CATHOLIC REFORMATION 

introduced, in which the moral sense of the play was made clear; 
there were sometimes pantomimes, and, in the French province 
especially, extensive use was made of the ballet. The chorus played 
an important part in most plays. On one point only was there 
uniformity though even here exceptions might be found: love 
between man and woman was not to be represented on the stage. 
The themes were no less varied than the dramatic technique. 
Many, especially at the outset, were borrowed from the Old Testa- 
ment, such as Luis da Cruz's Sedecias or Jerusalem falling to 
Nabuchodonosor; Nicholas Caussin's Solyma, on the same subject; 
the same author's Nabuchodonosor, with the story 'of Daniel; Denis 
Petau's Sisaras, with the story of Deborah. Other subjects were 
taken out of Church history, from the earliest times down to the 
sixteenth century. To this class belong the "martyrdom" plays, 
which culminated in Corneille's Polyeucte: Caussin's Felicitas, the 
story of St. Felicity and her seven sons; the same writer's 
Hermenegildus, a tale of the Goths and the Arian heresy, in which 
two martyrs, having rejected the latter, lay down their lives; 
Bernardinus Stephonius's Flavia, which recounts the persecution 
under Domitian. But there was no objection to lay subjects as 
long as they were treated in the proper spirit, and excursions were 
often made into the realm of secular history, mediaeval or con- 
temporary. We find in Germany two plays bearing on the Anglo- 
Saxon period, Edvinus, f(ing in England, and Humphredus, and 
one on the reign of Edward VI, John Dudley's Baleful Ambition; 
also plays on Conrad of Bavaria and Frederic^ of Austria, Hunyades 
and Ladislaus, and The Abdication of the Emperor Charles V. 
Others had a purely abstract and allegorical character, such as 
The Angel of Peace, On the Lord's Supper, Peace and Religion 
the Foundation of States. 

When one attempts to sort out those numberless Jesuit plays 
they seem to fall into classes fairly easily, according to the countries 
in which they were indited. There is such a thing as Italian Jesuit 
drama, German Jesuit drama, French Jesuit drama. If we are to 
judge from the plays performed at the Roman College, the stress 
was laid there upon the external side of the show more than on its 
psychological or even its properly devotional value. Take for 
instance a tragedy in five acts, there performed five times before 
1629, and "always favourably received," the Suevia (Souabe) of 



THE CATHOLIC REFORMATION AND LITERATURE 187 

Alexander Donatus. The subject is grounded on historical data, 
but these have been largely modified to satisfy the tastes ot an 
Italian audience. It is a dark and sinister story, in which the part 
of the villain is played by a famous mediaeval character, Manfred, 
the natural son of the Emperor Frederick II. His machinations 
end in the beheading of his half-brother, Jordanus, and in the 
poisoning of the emperor himself. The devotional element is 
practically absent, except in the lines sung by the chorus at the 
end of Act II, when it warns men not to seek perishable kingdoms, 
but eternal ones instead. The action is intricate and slow, and 
recourse is had, to awaken and keep up the interest of the spectators, 
to all kinds of outward means. The supernatural element is in- 
troduced. At the beginning of Act I, St. Peter Morone, the hermit, 
is wending his way along the stage, when Celestial Justice is seen 
to descend from heaven with her companions; St. Peter is rapt into 
ecstasy, while angels sing around him. Later, he is favoured with 
a vision of the papal tiara and of the imperial crown, still in the 
midst of singing. Pageantry is largely resorted to. The Emperor 
and his son are seen to enter the city of Naples on a chariot, 
amidst the full pomp of triumph, surrounded by generals, soldiers, 
the prefect of the town, and senators. Later on, triumphal games are 
exhibited, including a bout of fencing with spears. 

The same partiality for the externals of the drama is met with 
in another five-act tragedy, several times performed at the Roman 
College in 1621, the Flavia of Bernardmus Stephonius. The villain 
now is the philosopher and magician, Apollonius Tyaneus, who 
induces the Emperor Domitian to put to death his cousin, Clemens, 
and the latter 's two sons, because they refuse to abjure the Christian 
faith. The action is a simple one, but it is made to lend itself to 
scenic display in a succession of tableaux surrounded with elaborate 
scenery. In Act I, Apollonius conjures up sixteen infernal assistants; 
then the scene is shifted so as to represent a "horrid solitude; 
here takes place an earthquake, and darkness falls; the barking of 
dogs is heard; flames are seen to rise from slits in the floor. Then, 
through the mouth of a cavern, various monsters come forward: 
Cerberi, hydrae, centaurs, dragons, harpies, etc." After they 
have left the stage, "sixteen young lads come in Aethiopian dress, 
for a display of games." Later on, the prefect of Rome musters 
his troops and the Emperor reviews them. It should be said, how- 



i88 THE CATHOLIC REFORMATION 

ever, that, side by side with all this pageantry there is real pathos 
in the scenes in which Apollonius vainly tries to persuade his 
victims to renounce Christ. 

As for the plays performed in the German province, their 
authors seem to have been occasionally partial to grotesqueness, 
quaintness, and buffoonery. In the directions provided for them 
by their Jesuit superiors, there are repeated warnings against 
scurrility, against the introduction of "demons, beggars, drunkards, 
blasphemers, fools, etc." That these cautions were not always 
attended to is proved by the three-act comedy of Mopsus. The hero, 
who goes by that name, is a drunken peasant. While he is dozing 
off his liquor in the gutter, he is picked up by the courtiers of 
the duke of Holland. They persuade him, on the next morning, 
that he is the duke, and he spends one day amidst the splendours 
of the court. He again drinks himself to sleep, and is taken back 
to the filth of the street, where he awakes to reality. In the first 
act he is seen at his potations, together with other tipplers; and 
in the third act, he is tipsy again. The moral lesson to be derived 
from the play is nevertheless clear : it shows how empty are worldly 
honours and pleasures. Nor should we think that Mopsus is the 
type of all German plays, many of which fall into the "martyrdom" 
class. 

As to the French Jesuit theatre, it did not from the very first 
produce full-blown classical plays of the type which has been made 
familiar to us by the works of Corneille and Racine. Fr. Caussin's 
Theodoricus (published in 1620), for instance, is in many respects 
reminiscent of Shakespeare though we cannot say whether this 
is a case of direct influence. The plot is borrowed from Procopius 
and St. Gregory, and bears on the history of Gothic rule in Rome: 
it is the story of the philosopher, Boetius, and his son, Symmachus, 
falsely charged with high treason by two courtiers of King 
Theodoric, and unjustly put to death by the latter. The subject is 
not in itself a Christian one, yet it is made so from the fact that 
Theodoric, contrary to truth, is represented as a pagan; and there- 
fore the play offers every characteristic of the "martyrdom" class, 
especially in the scenes which take place in Boetius' prison, in 
which Theodoric threatens the philosopher, and his wife, Elpidia, 
expostulates with him. The action is limited to the second, third, 
and fourth acts, and ends in a Shakespearian way, with the madness 



THE CATHOLIC REFORMATION AND LITERATURE 189 

of Theodoric. The king takes a turbot's head, which is served to 
him on a dish, for the head of Symmachus; he is laid on his bed, 
where the ghosts of his two victims, accompanied by a good. genius, 
surround him, until he dies. At the same time, more classical 
elements appear. The execution of Boetius and Symmachus is 
not performed upon the stage, but related by a messenger. Allegory 
occupies an important place. The first act takes place in heaven, 
where Nemesis beseeches divine justice to wreak vengeance on 
Theodoric for having brought about the death of Pope John in 
a dungeon; and the fifth act is laid in heaven as well, and displays 
the judgement of the king, in the presence of his victims. 

The chief beauty of the play, however, does not reside in scenic 
effects, but in the real pathos of the prison scenes. In the dialogue 
between Theodoric, Boetius, and Symmachus, we find that brisk 
word-fencing, that thrust and parry of brief questions and retorts, 
which was later to be used so effectively in Corneille's Cid. 
Theodoric threatens the philosopher, who, it must be remembered, 
was a state dignitary, and his son, with imminent death: 

BOETIUS: Words! Words! 

THEODORIC: Yet they will take effect! 

BOETIUS: As fits a tyrant, methinks, thou wilt act; 

Whatever fits a senator, I shall suffer. 
THEODORIC: A noble speech indeed! 
BOETIUS: I'll stand true to it. 
THEODORIC: Wilt thou then try? 
BOETIUS: I'm ready when thou wilt. 

Thou canst do much, but I can suffer more. 

The same kind of word-play is found in the same author's 
Nabuchodonosor, when the Babylonian king threatens the four 
young Hebrews with torture if they refuse to worship his statue: 

MISAEL: Reason, and our laws too, forbid such deeds. 
NABU.: But 7 command them, who am above your laws. 
AZARIAS: It is thy part 

To order what thou wilt, but it is ours 

To obey God. 
ANANIAS: A thousand times rather die 

Than stoop to foul unholy sacrifices. 
NABU.: Generous words indeed; but racks and fires 

Will damp your contumacious spirits soon. 
MISAEL: Wilt thou then try what heart lies here concealed? 

Tear up my body! 



190 THE CATHOLIC REFORMATION 

In Corneille's Cid, Rodrigue was to say : 

To high-born souls, 

Valour docs not await the lapse of years. 

One is struck when finding, sixteen years before, in Nabuchadon- 
osor, words which are practically to the same effect, when Misael 
encourages his brother, Ananias, to die with him: 

ANANIAS: O worthy soul, thou oughtest thus to speak, 

Thy words surprise me not, but I felt pity 

For thy young age. 
MISAEL: Far older than my years 

Is God, who breathed his strength into my breast. 

The lyrical parts of the Jesuit plays are often moving, despite 
their preciosity. Ananias, in his prison, welcomes death in the 
following beautiful words: 

O Death, thou sole fulfilment of my wishes . . . 
O happy Death, thou sweet path towards Heaven, 
Thou breakest prison doors, and royal threats, 
Thou lettest not the pious feel thy dint. 
T is sweet and beautiful to die for God. 
O Sion's youth, thy fathers' courage learn, 
Learn how to seek thy trophy in the flames; 
T is sweet and beautiful to die for God. 

The reminiscence of Horace's Duke et decorum is used here to 
good effect as a preparative for martyrdom. There is enthusiasm 
also in other words of Ananias, which must have found a ready 
echo, at a time when so many young men were laying down their 
lives for their faith, in England and in the East: 

They threaten me with blows and awful fires; 
My enemies think they threaten, yet they please. 
Shalt thou then die? But 'tis the law of God! 
Shalt give thy life? Thou'lt give it back to God! 
In thy first flower? The gardener plucks the buds! 
Before thy time? Who dies thus is of age 
Mature enough! To a burning pyre shalt rush? 
'T is hard, I know, but yet a happy evil . . . 

Indeed, one cannot insist too much on the ardent spirit of self- 
devotion which is breathed by the drama of the Catholic Reforma- 
tion. Further examples may be found in Felicitas, another tragedy 
of Fr. Caussin though they might also be sought in the works 



THE CATHOLIC REFORMATION AND LITERATURE 191 

of other French Jesuit dramatists, such as Fr. Cellot and Fr. Petau. 
Felicity, being tied to the stake, sings in the lyrical mode her 
exhortations to her seven sons to share her fate: 

Run forth in strength, run forth in joy, 
O noble youths, your mother's sons; 
Run forth to Christ, ye holy youths; 
His hand will bless your happy strife. 
His wealth will crown with golden laurel 
Your temples, rich with fame and honour. 
Run forth in strength, run forth in joy, 
My sons, of wedlock chaste offspring. 

Then when one of the seven brothers, Crispus, is removed out 
of his prison and fears that he will not be granted the palm of 
martyrdom, he addresses his brother, Sylvanus, in the following 
touching words: 

CRISPUS: Alas, I leave my happy prison door, 

And my unwilling steps are loth to move. 

I shall go back. 

SYLVANUS: My Crispus, what ails thee? 
CRISPUS: Alas, thou lea vest me, while thou reapest 

The happy laurels. Hast forgotten me? 

I share the verdant spring of thy young age, 

I was the confident of all thy labours, 

Of all thy sweet pastimes; and long the cares 

Of tender youth, which we revolved together 

Have warmed our hearts, with mutual friendship laden. 

Thou leavest me, nor doest thou deem me worthy 

To triumph with thee. 
SYLVANUS: What sayest thou, dearest Crispus? 

thou the first in love of all my fellows, 

1 share thy wish with equal mind and heart, 
Ready with thee to live, with thee to die. 

* * * 

If one now turn to Corneille's masterpiece, Polyeucte (1643), 
one is immediately struck, despite some differences, by its unmis- 
takable likeness with the Jesuit tragedies, both in regard to form 
and to matter. Nor is this surprising, if we consider the circum- 
stances of Corneille's upbringing. Pierre Corneille, who was born 
at Rouen in Normandy in 1606, spent seven years (1615-1622) at 
the Jesuit college of that city. He was awarded two prizes for 
Latin verse in the third form and in the "Rhetoric." Now, the 
prize-winners were generally selected to act parts in the perform- 



192 THE CATHOLIC REFORMATION 

anccs of the Latin plays; and though we lack precise information 
on the point, there is every reason to believe that young Corneille 
was asked to do so. It is besides quite likely that his professor of 
rhetoric, Fr. Delidel, was the author of a play, Arsaces, performed 
at the College de Clermont in Paris in 1630. Corneille himself, 
in his commendatory lines prefixed to Fr. Delidel's Treatise on the 
Theology of the Saints, wrote as follows: 

What I write, that pleases, if it please, is wholly thine. 

What is more, another Jesuit master of Rouen college, Fr. de 
la Rue, indited in 1669 a Latin epistle to "the most illustrious 
Corneille, the prince of tragic poets," in which he clearly assumes 
that the latter's purpose in writing his tragedies was the same as 
that of the Jesuit dramatists. "You have known," he says, "how 
to give back the bloom of youth to the withered features of tragedy, 
and how to infuse a new life into her limbs. . . . You have bedecked 
her with flowers and taught her modesty and seemliness. Thanks 
to you, the licentiousness of the stage no longer exists; it is re- 
placed by good taste, and the theatre offers an innocent pleasure, 
worthy of the nicest ears. Thus is tragedy emboldened to cross 
the threshold of kings and to become food for the high souls of 
heroes." Corneille may thus justifiably be considered as the greatest 
tragic poet of the Jesuit school, and his Polyeucte as the direct 
consequence of the Catholic Reformation, and the highest point 
reached by it in the field of literature. 

The subject of the play is a well-known one. Pauline is the 
daughter of Felix, the Roman governor of Armenia. She has been 
in love with a young Roman officer and courtier, Severe; but as the 
latter is thought to have died in battle, she has married an Armenian 
nobleman of high rank, Polyeucte. The latter is won over to 
Christianity by his friend Nearque. Severe has meanwhile re- 
appeared, in the character of a general and a favourite of the 
emperor, hoping to marry Pauline. He is, of course, greatly dis- 
appointed to find her the wife of another man. Polyeucte, burning 
with his new zeal, induces the reluctant Nearque to come and 
join him in smashing up the heathen idols at a public sacrifice. 
Felix immediately orders Nearque to be put to death, but strives 
to persuade Polyeucte to recant in order to save his life. However, 
Polyeucte is absolutely proof against threats, flattery, and the 



THE CATHOLIC REFORMATION AND LITERATURE 193 

entreaties of his wife; he desires Felix to have him executed, and 
invites Pauline and Severe to join in wedlock and live happily after 
his own disappearance. He reaps the crown of martyrdom, but 
his constancy and magnanimity have not been useless: Felix and 
Pauline become Christians, and Severe himself agrees to use his 
influence in order to obtain from the emperor a relaxing of the 
persecution. 

Despite the introduction of the theme of human love, such a 
play is strikingly akin to the Jesuit tragedies. We find in it the 
same heroic tone. Pauline confesses to her confidante, Stratonice, 
at once her past love for Severe and her determination to fight 
it down: 

'T is but in such attacks that virtue shines, 

And hearts that have not fought should not be trusted. 

The outward form is also very much alike, with the same type of 
oratory rhetorical tirades alternating with brisk dialogues, such 
as the beautiful passage in the fourth act, where Polyeucte is deaf 
to the entreaties of Pauline : 

PAULINE: Renounce your fancy, dear, and love me. 
POLYEUCTE: I love you, 

Far less than God, but than myself far more. 
PAULINE: For sweet love's sake, I pray, forsake me not. 
POLYEUCTE: For sweet love's sake, I pray, follow my steps. 
PAULINE: 'T is not enough to leave me, you'll seduce me ? 
POLYEUCTE: 'T is not enough to go to Heaven, if alone. 
PAULINE: Mere dreams and fancies' 
POLYEUCTE: No, celestial truths! 
PAULINE: A blindness strange indeed' 
POLYEUCTE: Eternal lights! 

PAULINE: Prefer you death to Pauline's ardent love ? 
POLYEUCTE: Prefer you then the world to God above? 
PAULINE: You cruel, go and die: you never loved me. 
POLYEUCTE: Live happy in the world, and leave me peace. 

The same dramatic motives appear in Polyeucte as in the Jesuit 
plays. Felix's menacing and cajoling, Pauline's beseeching, remind 
us of the prison scenes in Hermenegtldus or Flavia. Polyeucte's 
famous lyrical stanzas are not unlike Boetius' song in his dungeon. 
The theme of love itself is handled in a way which suggests St. 
Ignatius' "voluntarist" conception of man's moral life. Pauline 
refuses to give way to her natural instinct, which yearns for union 



194 THE CATHOLIC REFORMATION 

with Severe. She will love her husband, and she is successful in 
her efforts, since she cherishes him enough to wish to die with 
him, and flatly rejects the temptation to accept his proposal and 
take advantage of his death to marry Severe. In Polyeucte's reply 
to her entreaties, one senses the influence of St. Ignatius' Exercises. 
The following lines are almost a verse paraphrase of the passages 
referring to "election." 

Ambition's mine, but nobler, higher far. 
Earth's greatness dies, I want eternal greatness, 
Assured happiness, unmeasured, endless, 
Secure above begrudging, above Fate. 
Is, then, a sorry life too much to pay, 
Which of a sudden, soon, may slip from me, 
Which but one fleeting moment I enjoy, 
Ne'er sure that other moments are to follow. 

More might be said on the same subject. Corneille's ideas on 
the co-operation between God and man in the work of grace, his 
insistency on divine love, his practical-mindedness in the face of 
temptation, all betray the influence of the Ignatian school. One 
might go further, and see in the utter chivalrousness of the great 
poet's characters a reflection of the knightly spirit of St. Ignatius 
himself. In any case, the heroic mood of Corneille in his tragedies 
suited the public of his own time; it testifies to the general temper 
of the period, which, as will be seen in other ways, manifests 
the conquering ardour of the Catholic Reformation. Thus did 
the latter, though hampered by the artificial side of neo-classicism, 
introduce an original element into literature, and produce some of 
the greatest works of all time. 

BIBLIOGRAPHY 

It is no more possible to supply a full bibliography of the subject 
here considered, than it was to do it justice in the above chapter. The 
literature of the Catholic Reformation has not been dealt with as such 
in any special work, nor is it referred to at all sufficiently in current 
literary histories. One must needs fall back upon the original sources. 
For the poetry of the quattrocento, see Jovianus Pontanus, Opera, Aldus 
(Venice, 1533). In regard to the literary theories of the Catholic 
Reformation, the most comprehensive work is Antonius Possevinus' 
Eibliotheca selecta qua agitur de ratione studiorum (Romae, 1593; 
Lugdum, 1594; Venetiis, 1603), Vol. II, lib. XVII, De poesi et pictura, 
which contains a veritable encyclopaedia of pre- and post-Trentine poetry 



THE CATHOLIC REFORMATION AND LITERATURE 195 

and criticism, with many extensive excerpts from contemporary or 
earlier works, including the Libellus de recta poescos rationc of Macanus 
Mutms. Also refer to Fr. Jacobus Pontanus, S.J., Poeticarum institu- 
tionum libri tres (Ingolstadii, 1594, 1597); Fr. Franciscus Bencius, S.J., 
Orationes et Carmina (Ingolstadii, 1592, 1595). There are numerous 
collections of Jesuit poetry, such as the Parnassus Societatis Jesu 
(Francofurti, 1654), which includes works from all the European 
provinces. Also see the collected poems of Fr. Gilbertus loninus (1637), 
Fr. Jakob Balde (1650), Fr. Leonardus Frizon (1650), etc. 

For the literary theories of Tasso, see Le prose diverse di Torquato 
Tasso, ed. by Cesare Guasti, Vol. I (Firenze, 1875), which contains 
Discorsi dell 'arte poetica (Venice, 1587) and Dtscorsi del poema eroico 
(Naples, 1594). One need hardly refer to the many editions of 
Gierusalemme hberata. For the "cycle of remorse," see Luigi Tansillo, 
Le lagnme di San Piero, falsely ascribed in this first edition to Cardinal 
de Pucci (Venetia, 1560) (the pianto primo only); then full editions, 
in Vico Equense, 1585, and, together with Erasmo Valvasone's Lagnme 
della Maddalena (Genova, 1587; Venetia 1592, 1598), besides modern 
editions. For translations and imitations in other countries, refer to 
the particulars given above in the course of the chapter. 

Many works bearing on Jesuit drama have been published in Germany 
(mostly monographs) and in France (general studies). The most 
important of the latter are Ernest Boysse, Le theatre des Jesuites (Pans, 
1880), which deals specially with the College de Clermont, and supplies 
a list of plays and ballets performed there; and L. V. Gofflot, Le 
theatre au College (Pans, 1908), which contains lists of plays acted in 
the Jesuit and Oratonan colleges, and brings down the history of college 
drama to present-day performances at Harvard University. The work 
of Dr. P. Bahlmann, Jesuiten-Dramen der Niederrheinischen Ordens- 
provtnz (Leipzig, 1896), is extremely exhaustive and conscientious, 
and gives the analysis of numerous plays, besides extracts. See also 
Karl Kaulfuss-Diesch, Untersuchungen uber das Drama der Jesuiten 
im 77. Jahrhundert, Herngs Archiv, Vol. XXXI of the new series 
(Braunschweig and Berlin, 1913), with a good bibliography; Th. 
Zachanae, Auffuhrung von Jesuitendramen in Indien, in the same series, 
Vol. XXX (1913); and many other German monographs. 

There are a number of collections of Jesuit plays, beginning with 
Fr. Luys da Cruz (Ludovicus Crucius), S.J., Tragicae comicaeque 
actiones . . . datae Commbncae (Lugduni, 1605); then Fr. Denys 
Petau (Dyomsius Petavius), Opera poetica (Parisiis, 1620) (includes 
his tragedies); Fr. Nicholas Caussm (Nicolaus Caussinus), Tragoediae 
sacrae (Parisiis, 1620); Fr. Louis Cellot, Opera Poetica (Parisiis, 1630) 
(includes his tragedies); Selectae PP. Soc. lesu tragoediae (Antverpiae, 
1634) (includes four tragedies by different Jesuit authors). For informa- 
tion on Corneille refer to Emile Picot, Bibliographic cornehenne (Paris, 
1876); Louis Rivaille, Les debuts de Corneille (Paris, 1936); and Gofflot, 
op. cit. 



CHAPTER IX 



The Catholic Reformation and Art 



IS ONE at all justified in speaking of the art of the Catholic 
Reformation? Doubts have been expressed on that score, and 
to some extent rightly so: for in regard to technique, no orig- 
inal development appears as a consequence of the Trentme move- 
ment. The latter has often, it is true, been identified with neo- 
classicalism; but the "J esi rir." style of architecture, for instance, was 
no more a creation of the Society of Jesus than the Ciceronian style 
in letters. In either case current modes of artistic expression were 
adopted and adapted to serve an essentially religious purpose. But 
this very purpose is the reason why, in another respect, Trentme art 
may be said to be truly original; for while its outward aspect really 
belongs to the period as a whole, its inward and spiritual substance, 
its inspiration and subject-matter are wholly new. Nor could this be 
otherwise, since the work done at Trent consisted in breaking with 
the traditions of the Renaissance. 

Indeed the reaction of the Council against the prevalent paganism 
of the period was so strong that one may well wonder that art 
should have found any favour in its eyes. The Fathers looked 
askance even at that most spiritual of all forms of expression, Church 
music. The spirit of Paul IV, the spirit of the Theatmes, was really 
rigid. As it was, the Council was wise enough to refrain from any 
sweeping condemnation. But the art which followed in its wake 
bore the mark of its temper. One of its most characteristic features 
in painting, sculpture, architecture, as well as music, is its austere- 
ness, its severity, its simplicity and concentration, its truly classical 
restraint. Another feature is the extraordinary intensity of its reli- 
gious feeling, its spiritual depth and power, which really hark back 
to the Middle Ages. It is true that the Trentine movement, how- 

196 



THE CATHOLIC REFORMATION AND ART 197 

ever fervent its inspiration, never attained to the sublime elevation 
ot mediaeval art; that it developed in a period of conventions and 
theatricality, which were averse to spontaneity and sincerity. Never- 
theless, it produced works of great beauty, the value of which is due, 
less to the style of the moment than to the devotional feelings which 
they express. 

Trentme art coincides in its duration with the Catholic Reforma- 
tion properly so called, that is to say the period of remorsefulness 
for Renaissance paganism, of sadness over the woes of the Church. 
This period ended in Italy when peace and prosperity were restored 
in the early seventeenth century, and austerity and simplicity made 
way for the lusciousness and overdecoration of Bernini's art. In this 
respect as in others, the fashion spread with some delay, and in 
France it is only about 1650 that the soberness of the Louis XIII 
style was superseded by the sumptuous luxunousness of Louis XIV's 
reign. A clear distinction should be made between Trentine art, 
which is sober and controlled, and the later exuberance of the 
"baroque." The former was the outcome of the work of moral 
reformation and theological consolidation performed b> the popes; 
its fountamhead was in Rome, and it is from Rome that its study 
must start. First of all, however, it will be necessary to examine the 
general principles which served as guides. Though the underlying 
base be the same, those principles vary according as they are applied 
to the various forms of art, and we shall have to consider in succes- 
sion painting and sculpture, architecture, and music. 



The Council of Tient was not concerned with painting and sculp- 
ture as such, yet it had to establish dogma in regard to the worship 
and the images of saints, and consequently to decide whether and 
how the latter should be made the object of artistic representation. 
The question of images had been the object of a standing debate 
between Catholics and Protestants. The more extreme among the 
latter requested their total suppression, thus aiming a death-blow at 
religious art. The first point, therefore, was for the Council to assert 
that images might legitimately be used. Its decree runs as follows: 

"Let the bishops diligently teach that the story of the mysteries 
of our Redemption, expressed by paintings or other representations, 
instructs and confirms the people in remembering and assiduously 



198 THE CATHOLIC REFORMATION 

rehearsing the articles of the faith; that sacred images are the source 
of great spiritual profit, not only because the people are thus re- 
minded of the blessings and help which Christ has granted them, 
but also because the marvels and wholesome examples of God are 
through his saints placed before the eyes of the faithful, so that they 
may thank God for them, and rule their life and manners after 
those of the saints, and may be incited to worship and love God, 
and cultivate piety." 

The passage is important. It assigns a religious purpose to the 
arts of painting and sculpture, and settles the direction they were 
to take after the Council of Trent. The latter did not go into par- 
ticulars as to the means of reaching its aim. It was content to issue a 
general warning against the superstitions and abuses to which the 
worship of images might give rise. But its thought was interpreted 
by a number of theologians; and a developed theory of the art of 
religious painting and sculpture was expounded by Possevinus, in 
the work which we have already referred to, his De Poesi et Pictura. 

The object of painting, Possevinus says, is like that of poetry, 
twofold, namely, utility and pleasure. Now, in order to be useful, 
painting must be true. "If it is," as St. Gregory says, " 'the book of the 
unlearned', what light can it provide if it be false?" The Protestants 
had frequently derided the legends mixed up with the Catholic 
worship of the saints. Such criticism would fall to the ground if his- 
torical truth was strictly adhered to. Possevinus complains of the 
painters who represent holy personages in a fanciful way and not 
according to sound tradition and reason. He provides several in- 
stances of what he qualifies as errors: the thieves crucified with Jesus 
are shown as tied with ropes, instead of being nailed to their crosses; 
St. Joseph standing near the crib and St. Peter standing near the 
cross appear as old men, whereas they ought to be young; the three 
Marys are painted as young girls; Mary Magdalen, at the Cruci- 
fixion, is bedecked with gems and precious clothes; St. Francis is 
well-combed, neat, elegant; St. Jerome wears a cardinal's red hat, a 
palpable anachronism; Christ on the cross seems neither sad nor 
afflicted. 

Indeed, the painters reply, but when we show a serene, handsome, 
and elegant Christ, we attend to art primarily. And yet, Possevinus 
rejoins, the ancient Laocoon expresses pain. "I assert," he adds, "that 
the highest pitch of art consists in imitating reality, the martyrdoms 



THE CATHOLIC REFORMATION AND ART 199 

of martyrs, the tears of those who weep, the pain of those who 
suffer, the glory and joy of those who come to life again." 

Apocryphal Scriptures are not to be followed. When selecting 
their themes, painters should consult first with theologians and his- 
torians. Nor should they be heedful of truth merely; they ought to 
respect the necessary rules of propriety in handling sacred subjects. 
Christ should not be shown in the convers