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The  renaissance.  Ihe  P 
Stanlortl  Ui 


3   6105  048   711    985 


4 


9 


[ 


THE  RENAISSANCE 
THE  PROTESTANT  REVOLUTION 

AND 
THE  aTHOUC  REFORMATION 
IN  CONTINENTAL  EUROfli 


THE  CENTURY  HISTORICAL  SERIEI 

GlOICl  LiNOOUf  BUBB, 

of  Cornell  Univenity,  General  Editor 

THE  VOLUMES 

I    IimoDUcnoN  to  the  Study  op  Hisrotv.    George 
Li  Borr  of  Cornell  Univentty. 

11  Tub  ANcniiT  Woua  (To  about  ^  B.  C) 
William  L  Wettermann  of  the  University  of 
Wisconsin. 

HI    Rom.   (To  about  s66  A.  D.) 

IV    Thb  MmiLB  Agbs.    (To  about  1373.)    Dana  C. 
Monro  of  the  University  of  Wisconsin. 

V     THB  RUfAISaANCB  AHD  THE  RbFQMCATION.      (To 

about  iSoR)    Earle  W.  Dow  of  the  University 
of  Michigan. 

VI  Thb  Pmoo  or  the  Absoluti  Mohaichibs. 
'1609  to  17^)  WiSmr  C  Abbott  of  Yale 
university. 

VII  Trb  RivoLunoNABY  Pbexodl  (From  i7^  to 
1815.)  Henry  E.  Boame  of  Western  Reserve 
University. 

VIII  Tn  Niniibbnth  CairruBY.  (1815  to  190a) 
WflKam  E  Lingdbach  of  the  University  of 
Pennsytvattta. 


fii 


THE  CENTURY  CO.  NEW  YORK 


t 


THE  RENAISSANCE 
THB    PROTESTANT  REVOLUTION 
AND 
.^gm     CATHOLIC    REFORMATION 
^^1     IN  CONTINENTAL  EUROPE 


EDWARD  MASLIN  HULME 

A«*ocuTB  Pxorauoa  of  Hhtoit  in  SrAiiroui  Unitiihtt 


Kevtset)  EUtioii 


NEW  YORK 

THE  CENTURY  CO. 

1916 


52l4'i5 


•  •  •  • 


Copyright.  1914.  1915,  by 
Tbe  Cuttusy  C6, 


•     •  • 


-  • 


Mated  la  U.S.  A. 


TO 

GEORGE  LINCOLN  BURR, 

BEST  OF  TEACHERS  AND  BEST  OF  FRIENDS, 
THIS  BOOK,  SO  DEEPLY  INDEBTED  TO  HIM, 

IS  DEDICATED 


PREFATORY  NOTE 

book  is  based  upon  the  Outlines  of  the  Renaissance  and 
the  Reformation  by  Professor  George  Lincoln  Burr,  printed,  but 
not  pubUshed,  for  the  use  of  hb  students  at  G>mell.  Here  and 
there  I  have  ventured  to  change  the  outlines,  but  the  framework 
of  the  book  remains  his  in  every  essential  respect.  To  his  list 
of  references  I  am  also  indebted  for  guidance  in  my  reading  and 
for  aid  in  compiling  the  list  of  books  published  for  the  first  time 
in  the  second  printing  of  my  book.  In  the  course  of  our  long 
correspondence  other  books  than  those  mentioned  in  his  Outlines 
have  been  called  to  my  attention  by  my  former  teacher,  and  for 
this  aid,  too,  I  wish  to  make  public  acknowledgment  Another 
debt  to  my  master  is  for  his  **  enthusiasm  of  humanity,"  which  is 
so  highly  contagious,  and  which  I  hope  pervades  in  some  degree 
every  page  I  have  written. 

For  the  subject-matter  of  the  book  I  am  particularly  indebted 
to  Gebhart,  Beiger,  Dilthey,  Gothein,  and  Beard,  whose  works 
are  mentioned  in  the  lists  of  references  for  the  various  chapters 
to  which  they  relate. 

E.  M.  H. 


TABLE  OF  CONTENTS 


THE  RENAISSANCE 


^1    THE  PAPACY ^. 

•H    POliriCAL  AFFAIRS ig 

m    THE   REVIVAL  OF  THE  NATION 50 

IV    THE    REVIVAL  OF  THE   INDIVIDUAL 5p 

^V    THE   REVIVAL  OF  LITERATURE 72 

^  VI    THE  REVIVAL  OF  ART I08 

VU    THE  REVIVAL  OF  SCIENCE 124 

*\1U    THE   REVIVAL  OF   CONSCIENCE I44 

IX    THE  AGE  OF  DISCOVERY 175 


THE  PROTESTANT  REVOLUTION 

X  POUTICAL  AFFAIRS  AT  THE  OPENING  OF  THE  PROTESTANT 

REVOLUTION l80 

XI  HUMANISM  AND  HERESY jOI 

XU  THE  GERMAN  REVOLT  FROM  ROME 233 

XIII  THE   SOCIAL  REVOLUTION j^ 

XIV  PROTESTANTISM  AND  THE  BALANCE  OF  POWER     ....  258* 
XV  THE  SWISS  REVOLT  FROM  ROME 269 

XVI    THE    FRENCH    REVOLT   FROM    ROME 283 

XVn    REVOLT  IN  THE  NORTH  AND  HERESY  IN  THE  SOUTH     .     .  307 

JCnn    THE  RESULTS  OF  THE  PROTESTANT  REVOLUTION     ...  343 

XtX    THE  DEVELOPMENT  OF  LETTERS  AND  ART 3;x 


THE  CATHOLIC  REFORMATION 

XX    THE  TURK,  THE  COMET  AND  THE  DEVIL ^j 

XXI    THE  RISE  OF  THE  JESUITS 413 

XXU    THE  COUNCIL  OF  TRENT ^30 

ZXIU    THE  TRIUMPH  OF  MILITANT  CATHOUaSM 444 

XXIV   THE  SPANISH  SUPREMACY "^ 


THE   RENAISSANCE 


CHAPTER  I 


THE  PAPACY 


I.  Christendom  at  the  Dawn  of  the  Renaissance, 

a.  Pope  Boniface  VIII  and  King  Philip  IV. 

3.  The  **  Babylonish  Captivity  "  of  the  JPapacy. 

4.  The  "  Great  Schism  of  the  West." 

5.  The  Rivalry  of  Papacy  and  Council. 

WE  shall  begin  the  study  of  the  Renaissance  with  the  last  ^^^^^'  ^ 
quarter  of  the  thirteenth  century.  Not  that  the  Middle  ists 
Ages  ended  at  this  time  and  that  then  the  Renaissance,  in  all  its 
aspects,  b^an.  One  cannot  say  when  the  Middle  Ages  gave 
place  to  the  Renaissance.  Indeed,  in  some  respects,  the  Middle 
Ages  are  not  over  yet.  They  still  subsist,  stealing  in  silent  cur- 
rents along  the  subterranean  ways  of  the  world.  It  is  impossi- 
bk  to  date  the  bounds  of  an  era  with  any  degree  of  accuracy. 
Eras  are  not  initiated  with  single  dramatic  events.  In  the  g^eat 
development  of  civilization  there  is  nothing  sudden,  but  rather 
is  the  change  like  that  which  takes  place  in  a  forest  —  birth, 
growth,  and  death  go  on  almost  unnoticed  side  by  side.  There 
ait  always  many  foreshadowings  of  any  intellectual  movement. 
So,  one  must  not  expect  to  find  the  Renaissance,  or  any  other 
important  era,  inaugurated  by  a  striking  event  or  a  violent  revo- 
lution. Only  very  gradually  did  the  new  dispensation  take  form 
and  shape.  It  was  not  announced  to  a  startled  world  by  the 
Uast  of  a  sndden  trumpet 

Let  us  first  of  all  make  a  brief  survey  of  the  Europe  of  that 
day  from  Sicily  to  Scotland,  and  from  Cape  Finisterre  to  the 
frontiers  of  Muscovy.    At  the  dawn  of  the  Renaissance,  Chris-  Batistaf 
tcDdom  could  claim  only  a  small  part  of  the  world.    The  Moham-  SJJ^^ 
medan  conquests  had  greatly  diminished  its  extent  since  the  damn  of 
seventh  century.    Christianity,  as  the  ruling  power,  had  been  *****^ 
expelled  from  her  most  glorious  seats  —  from  Palestine,  Syria, 
Asia  Minor,  Egypt,  Nor^  Africa,  and  from  a  considerable  part 
of  the  Spanish  peninsula.    The  Greek  and  Italian  peninsulas 

3 


THE    RENAISSANCE 


CHAPTER  I 


THE  PAPACY 


r 


I.  Ghristendom  at  the  Dawn  of  the  Renaissance, 

a.  Pope  Boniface  VIII  and  King  PhiUp  IV. 

3.  The  **  Babylonish  Captivity  "  of  the  Papacy. 

4.  The  "  Great  Schism  of  the  West." 

5.  The  Rivalry  of  Papacy  and  Council. 

E  shall  b^in  the  study  of  the  Renaissance  with  the  last  <^^^^'  > 

quarter  of   the  thirteenth  century.    Not  that  the  Middle      lara 

^  ended  at  this  time  and  that  then  the  Renaissance,  in  all  its 

iipects,  b^an.     One  cannot  say  when  the  Middle  Ages  gave 

fiice  to  the  Renaissance.    Indeed,  in  some  respects,  the  Middle 

^  are  not  over  yet.    They  still  subsist,  stealing  in  silent  cur- 

KQts  along  the  subterranean  ways  of  the  world.    It  is  impossi- 

Ut  to  date  the  bounds  of  an  era  with  any  d^^ee  of  accuracy. 

^  are  not  initiated  with  single  dramatic  events.    In  the  great 

i^eiopment  of  civilization  there  is  nothing  sudden,  but  rather 

i  the  change  like  that  which  takes  place  in  a  forest  —  birth, 

roKth,  and  death  go  on  almost  unnoticed  side  by  side.    There 

are  always  many  f  oreshadowings  of  any  intellectual  movement. 

Sot  one  must  not  expect  to  find  the  Renaissance,  or  any  other 

io^rtant  era,  inaugurated  by  a  striking  event  or  a  violent  revo- 

tea    Only  very  gradually  did  the  new  dispensation  take  form 

aad  shape.     It  was  not  announced  to  a  startled  world  by  the 

ilsst  of  a  sadden  trumpet 

Let  us  first  of  all  make  a  brief  survey  of  the  Europe  of  that 
t?  from  Sicily  to  Scotland,  and  from  Cq>e  Finisterre  to  the 
ontiers  of  Muscovy.    At  the  dawn  of  the  Renaissance,  Chris-  Batistaf 
odom  could  claim  only  a  small  part  of  the  world.    The  Moham-  SJJ^^ 
cdan   conquests  had  greatly  diminished  its  extent  since  the  aawb  of 
?enth   century-     Christianity,  as  the  ruling  power,  had  been  *****^ 
pelled  from  her  most  glorious  seats  —  from  Palestine,  Syria, 
sia  Minor,  'EjgypU  North  Africa,  and  from  a  considerable  part 
:  the   Spanish  peninsula.    The  Greek  and  Italian  peninsulas 

3 


THE  RENAISSANCE 


0B4P.Z 
1876 


■iOBIOf 

Ohrliten- 


TlMHtlcli- 

bonof 

cnirlsl«n- 


OrMk 

Ohudi 


TlM 

7op« 


were  hers,  the  German  Empire,  France,  the  northern  part  of 
the  Spanish  peninsula,  the  British  Isles,  the  Scandinavian  king-  [ 
dom,  and  in  a  rather  dubious  way  the  outlying  Slavic  and  Dan- ', 
ubian  kingdoms.    In  exchange  for  her  old  and  illustrious  strong- 
holds she  had  fallen  back  upon  the  northern  countries,  and  aJl  [ 
along  her  frontiers  she  maintained  a  spirit  of  incessant  watch- 
fulness and  sometimes  of  actual  aggression. 

But  Christendom  was  divided  within  itself  into  two  parts. 
There  were  the  Greek  Qiurch  and  the  Latin  Church.  In  the 
Greek  peninsula,  and  in  Asia  Minor,  were  to  be  found  the  ad- 
herents of  the  former,  surrounded  and  submerged  by  the  con- 
quering Moslem ;  and  here  and  there,  too,  in  the  turbulent  Dan- 
ubian  and  Slavic  lands.  To  the  Latin  Church  belonged  the  re- 
mainder and  by  far  the  greater  part  of  Christendom. 

To  the  East  and  the  South  there  lay  the  Soldan's  country. 
When  the  Moslems  were  defeated  by  Charles  the  Hammer,  in 
732,  the  tide  of  their  conquest  in  the  West  was  checked ;  but  in 
the  East  it  continued  to  flow  onward,  slowly  yet  steadily,  until 
even  Constantinople  itself  was  subject  to  the  age-long  threat  of 
capture.  Beyond  Islam  was  the  far  Orient,  of  which  little 
definite  information  was  possessed  by  the  Europeans. 

The  schism  that  had  divided  Christendom  into  its  Greek  and 
Latin  Churches  took  place  in  the  tenth  century;  and  so  bitter 
had  become  the  controversy  between  the  two  churches  that  in 
Constantinople  the  opinion  was  freely  expressed  that  the  Turk- 
ish turban  would  pollute  St  Sophia  less  than  the  hat  of  the 
cardinal.  The  Greek  Church  had  been  reduced  to  a  fatal  though 
oftentimes  mutinous  subjection  to  the  State;  and  it  had  little 
contact  with  Western  life.  Not  only  doctrinal  and  ritualistic 
differences  had  separated  it  from  the  Latin  Church,  but  also 
political  and  racial.  The  elements  that  went  to  make  up  the 
Greek  Church  were  very  composite ;  and  this  is  to  be  accounted 
for,  in  part,  by  the  fact  that  there  was  a  large  Asiatic  admix- 
ture. 

At  the  head  of  Latin  Christendom  was  the  Pope  who  claimed 
both  spiritual  and  temporal  supremacy,  a  claim  which  received 
its  fullest  expression  at  the  hands  of  Innocent  III  and  Boniface 
VIII.  No  Roman  Emperor  ever  wielded  such  power.  He  it 
was  who  launched  the  Crusades  against  the  infidd,  the  heathen, 
and  the  heretic.  He  alone  could  call  a  general  council  of  the 
Church,  and  he  alone  could  confirm  its  decisions.  He  could  pro- 
nounce an  interdict  against  an  entire  country ;  and  he  could  create 
and  depose  kings.  All  Western  Europe  professed  obedience  to 
the  Roman  pontiff.    The  same  splendid  ritual  was  performed 


THE  PAPACY 


m  Ae  same  sonorous  language,  the  same  incomparable  tradi-    <^]^iu».z 
tioDs  were  held  in  reverence,  and  the  same  doctrines  received      tars 
universal  assent.    Within  this  vast  fold  were  to  be  found  the 
most  diverse  peoples  and  kingdoms  antagonistic  one  to  the  other. 
Tlus  great  Church  was  exceedingly  well  organized  and  immensely 
TidL    The  Pope  had  his  curia  at  Rome,  the  supreme  appellate 
trftoBftl  of  the  Church  with  great  power  and  many  functions. 
Indeed,  the  twelfth  century  had  witnessed  the  final  change  of 
the  pastoral  character  of  the  Roman  see  into  the  juristic  and 
pcfidcal  character  of  the  Roman  curia,  its  moral  and  theolog- 
ical activity  superseded  by  its  worldly  interests.    Law  had  re- 
phced  theology  as  the  basis  of  the  papal  power. 

The  cardinals  were  the  advisers  of  the  Pope,  and  it  was  they 
who  dected  his  successor.  Eventually  they  were  to  be  found 
m  aD  the  principal  countries,  but  as  yet  the  non-resident  cardinal- 
ate  was  only  bq^inning  and  so  the  large  majority  of  them  were 
Italians.  Beneath  the  Pope  were  the  archbishops,  who  could  TiMOtegf 
acrdse  their  power  only  after  having  received  the  pallium  from  ^^^ 
Um,  and  each  of  whom  was  the  overseer  of  a  number  of  bishops,  ohvdi 
Under  the  bishops  were  the  priests  who  administered  the  serv^ 
kes  of  the  Church  to  the  people  in  town  and  country.  The 
r^alar-elergy  consisted  of  monks,  and  nuns,  and  friars.  They 
were  grouped  into  different  orders,  the  more  recently  organized 
of  wUdi  acknowledged  obedience  to  a  general.  They  were  more 
firectly  under  the  amtrol  of  the  Pope  than  were  the  secular 
priests,  who  owed  obedience  to  their  bishops;  the  Pope  could 
pve  them  direct  orders  through  the  generals,  or  other  officers, 
10  they  could  be  used  as  a  sort  of  papal  militia.  The  monks 
nmained  in  their  monasteries  and  left  the  care  of  men's  souls 
to  the  secular  clergy.  But  the  friars,  fortified  with  the  priv- 
fcges  given  them  by  the  Pope,  traversed  the  world.  Every- 
vhere  they  preached  and  heard  confessions.  They  were  itiner- 
ttt  priests.  Through  the  friars  especially  the  papal  power  was 
fdt  directly  in  every  part  of  the  continent. 

The  Latin  Church  had  gradually  built  up  a  most  comprehen- 
si?e  and,  with  regSLtd  to  its  f  undsmiental  dogmas,  a  well-articu- 
hted  system  of  belief;  though  one  must  not  think  that  all  its  orMdiuia 
nrious  elements  had  been  completely  harmonized,  because  there  ^^^ 
vere  many  cross-currents,  many  conflicts  of  theory  with  prac-  liMb 
tice,  and  not  a  little  that  was  confusing.    For  her  creed  she  ^^'^ 
daimed  in  the  most  outspoken  of  terms  indefeasible  authority. 
She  akme  was  the  interpreter  to  man  of  the  will  and  the  word  of 
God.    Seven  sacraments  had  been  instituted  for  the  salvation 
of  man;  they  were  indispensable  to  his  spiritual  life,  and  they 


THE  RENAISSANCE 


could  be  adminbteredy  with  the  exception  of  baptism  under  cer- 
tain conditions,  only  by  a  r^^larly  ordained  priest.  So  the 
laity  were  absolutely  dependent  upon  the  priesthood  for  the 
nourishment  of  their  religious  life.  Outside  the  pale  of  the 
Church  it  was  hopeless  to  seek  an  s^roach  to  God.  In  tem- 
poral matters,  also,  the  Church  was  <»nnipresent.  Her  pene- 
trating power  touched  every  worldly  subject  She  had  come 
to  be  not  only  a  religious  guide,  but  also  a  great  juristic,  eco- 
nomic, and  foiancial  institution.  Over  the  temporsd  as  well  as 
the  spiritual  personalities  of  men  she  exercised  control  in  an 
extraordinary  degree.  Nor  was  her  power  confined  to  this 
world.  She  had  been  given  authority  to  bind  and  loose  in 
purgatory  as  well  as  upon  earth. 

There  were  two  empires,  both  of  them  **  imperial  shadows  that 
represented  the  majesty  of  Constantine  and  Charlemagne,"  yet 
both  of  them  claiming  the  inheritance  of  the  ancient  authority 
of  Rome.  For  centuries  the  Greek  Empire  had  been  essen- 
tially a  static  not  a  dynamic  State.  Its  history  is  that  of  a  gov- 
ernment, not  that  of  a  nation.  Its  story  is  that  of  administra- 
tion and  law,  rather  than  that  of  literature  or  of  liberty.  Yet  it 
must  not  be  forgotten  that  through  the  Middle  Ages  it  held  in  its 
keeping  the  treasures  of  Greek  learning.  Out  of  hordes  of 
barbarians  it  had  created  the  kingdoms  of  Servia,  Croatia,  and 
Bulgaria.  To  Slavs  and  to  Goths  it  had  given  ideas  and  institu- 
tions of  government ;  and  its  missionaries  were  to  be  found  from 
the  shores  of  the  Baltic  to  Abyssinia.  Yet  now  it  was  in  its 
last  agonies  of  servile  decrepitude,  awaiting  inevitable  extinc- 
tion at  the  hands  of  the  Turk. 

The  Holy  Roman  Empire  extended  from  the  Baltic  Sea  to  the 
Mediterranean  and  from  France  to  Hungary.  Nominally  this 
vast  territory  was  ruled  over  by  an  Emperor  with  supreme  au« 
thority,  but  except  in  his  own  personal  dominions  his  power  was 
but  a  shadowy  thing.  Under  strong  and  able  successors  of 
Charles  the  Great  the  imperial  power  had  been  made  something 
more  than  symbolical,  but  under  weak  and  irresolute  ones  it  had 
diminished  again  to  the  vanishing-point.  There  were  many  rea- 
sons for  this, — geographical,  social,  and  political.  The  Holy 
Roman  Empire  had  for  its  basis  only  an  idea,  that  of  cosmopol- 
itan dominion,  or  world-monarchy;  but  feudalism  established 
itself  in  Germany  as  elsewhere,  and  before  the  fact  of  feudalism 
the  idea  of  imperialism  gave  way.  Every  decade  saw  the  centrif- 
ugal force  increase  and  the  common  bond  of  union  grow  weaker. 
The  imperial  office  was  not  hereditary  but  elective ;  and  the  dec* 
tion  lay  in  the  hands  of  great  feudatories  who  were  generally 


THE  PAPACY 


unwiDing  to  place  in  power  any  one  who  would  be  likely  to  check  ^^^^  ' 
the  gradual  growth  of  their  own  independence.  Imperial  tax-  1275 
adoQ  and  an  imperial  army,  two  things  indispensable  to  the  exer- 
cne  of  imperial  authority,  had  never  been  acquired.  So  the 
Empire  remained  a  congeries  of  some  362  principalities,  ecclesi- 
astical and  secular;  many  of  them  composed  of  patches  lying 
sqarate  from  each  other;  and  many  of  them  too  infinitesimal  to 
be  represented  on  any  ordinary  map.  Among  the  more  important 
of  the  Germanic  secular  States  were  Saxony,  Brandenburg, 
Bavaria,  Lorraine,  and  Bohemia. 

And  now,  having  glanced  briefly  at  the  empires,  let  us  look  at 
the  kingdoms.  In  Germany  the  most  striking  fact  of  the  time 
is  the  election  of  Rudolf  I  of  Hapsburg  to  the  imperial  throne. 
The  territorial  possessions  of  that  secondary  prince  were  insignifi- 
cant,  but  in  a  few  years  he  acquired  Austria  and  Styria  and  so  tim 
a  new  dominion  was  created,  destined  to  assume  g^eat  impor-  **»«*•■'■ 
tanoe  among  the  principalities  that  made  up  the  Holy  Roman 
Empire.  Bohemia,  which  lies  in  the  very  heart  of  Europe, 
afanost  equally  distant  from  each  of  the  great  seas,  a  distinct 
physical  unit  by  virtue  of  its  encircling  and  forested  mountains,- 
hccame  a  kingdom  in  the  middle  of  the  twelfth  century,  but  it 
ranained  within  the  Empire.  In  France  the  piinciple  of  con- 
solidation had  been  at  work  for  a  long  time,  and  was  continuing 
vhen  the  age  of  the  Renaissance  opened.  Nowhere  else  was 
there  to  be  found  so  highly  centralized  a  government.  These 
^^ODgs  were  made  possible  by  the  sense  of  nationality  which  the 
French  people  had  acquired,  and  by  the  existence  of  a  national 
aimy  and  national  taxation.  In  England  the  long  reign  of  Ed- 
vard  I,  a  vigorous,  able,  and  truly  national  king,  had  just  begun. 
It  was  an  era  in  which  the  English  came  into  their  own,  a  time 
of  political,  economic,  and  social  development,  and  of  territorial 
aggrandizement.  In  the  land  won  back  from  the  Moslem  in- 
vaders in  the  Spanish  peninsula  there  were  four  Christian  king- 
doms, —  Aragon,  Castile,  Navarre,  and  Portugal.  At  times  there 
had  been  more  than  three  Spanish  kingdoms.  Their  unions  and 
divisions  had  been  frequent,  and  such  changes  were  to  continue 
until  at  last  but  two  kingdoms,  Spain  and  Portugal,  should  share 
the  territory  south  of  the  Pyrenees.  In  the  far  North  there  were 
three  Scandinavian  kingdoms,  Norway,  Sweden,  and  Denmark, 
whose  relations  to  each  other  had  constantly  shifted.  To  the 
North  and  East  three  Slavic  kingdoms  were  to  be  fotmd.  Bo- 
hemia, the  land  of  the  Czechs,  was,  as  we  have  seen,  a  member 
of  the  German  Empire.  Poland  had  grown  up  from  a  collection 
of  small  States  into  a  powerful  kingdom.    Lithuania,  the  last 


THE  RENAISSANCE 


of  the  heathen  States  in  Europe,  which  had  led  a  troubled  career, 
witnessed  at  the  close  of  the  Middle  Ages  a  great  outburst  of 
vigor  and  became  one  of  the  most  far-extended  of  the  European 
countries.  In  the  territory  drained  by  the  Danube  there  was 
Hungary,  the  land  of  the  Magyars,  who  with  the  Ottoman  Turks, 
were  the  only  Turanian  people  who  succeeded  in  establishing 
permanent  States  in  the  continent  of  Europe.  The  two  other 
Danubian  kingdoms,  Servia  and  Bulgaria,  were  both  Slavonic 
powers,  and  the  chief  of  them  was  Servia,  whose  people  made  a 
brave  resistance  to  the  Turk. 

Italy  was  made  up  of  innumerable  little  republics  and  despo- 
tisms, petty  commonwealths  that  were  constantly  at  war  with 
each  other.  In  that  Southern  peninsula  it  was  the  cities  that 
were  of  chief  importance.  In  Italy  and  in  Germany  territorial 
disintegration  had  favored  the  rise  and  growth  of  cities  that 
became  centers  first  of  commerce  and  then  of  culture.  Venice, 
Milan,  Florence,  Rome,  Padua,  Siena,  and  Naples  were  among 
the  principal  Italian  cities.  In  other  countries,  too,  cities  had 
achieved  importance.  They  were  to  be  seats  of  the  new  secular 
culture  that  was  to  work  so  g^eat  a  change  in  the  world.  In  Ger- 
many there  were  Augsburg  and  Nuremberg,  and  in  the  far  North, 
Ltibec,  Hamburg,  and  Bremen.  In  the  Ix>w  Countries,  Bruges, 
Ghent,  Amsterdam,  and  Antwerp  were  all  busy  hives  of  com- 
merce. 

In  this  brief  survey  of  Europe  the  universities  must  not  be 
overlooked.  Until  the  rise  of  secular  culture  made  the  cities  of 
chief  importance  in  the  social  life  of  Europe  the  universities  were 
the  most  potent  of  the  intellectual  forces.  In  them  were  to  be 
found  the  acutest  minds  of  the  time  drawn  from  every  country 
and  from  every  class.  Far  to  the  South  lay  Salerno,  then  as 
always  chiefly  a  medical  school.  The  great  law  school  at  Bologna 
gathered  to  itself  vast  numbers  of  students  from  every  land  and 
by  its  inculcation  of  the  principles  of  Roman  Law  became  a 
force  in  the  decline  of  feudalism  and  the  rise  of  the  modem 
nations.  The  mother  university,  the  one  that  served  as  a  model 
for  others,  was  Paris,  and  there  scholasticism  made  for  itself  a 
stronghold.  In  England  there  were  Oxford  and  Cambridge.  In 
Spain  there  was  Salamanca,  devoted  especially  to  law,  and  quite 
aloof  from  its  sister  institutions  of  other  countries.  At  the  be- 
ginning of  the  Renaissance  period  Germany  did  not  possess  a 
single  uhiversity.  Prague  was  founded  in  1348,  and  the  same 
century  witnessed  the  establishment  of  Vienna,  Erfurt,  Heidel- 
berg, and  Cologne.  There  were  other  schools  of  lesser  impor- 
tance such  as  Padua,  Toulouse,  and  Montpellier;  but  altogether 


THE  PAPACY 


^'b 


tiiefe  were  not  many  universities.    The  new  age  was  to  make    ^'^^^ 
iaq)ortant  additions  to  their  number.  i89i-i80S 

Such  was  the  general  condition  of  Europe  when,  on  Christmas  , 

Eve,  1294,  Benedetto  Gaetani  was  elected  Pope  and  assumed  the 
title  of  Boniface  VIII.  He  was  a  scholar  learned  in  the  civil  BomfAM 
md  the  canon  law,  handsome,  eloquent,  and  arrogant,  and  filled  ^ 
with  the  lust  of  worldly  power.  Although  he  was  an  old  man 
his  vigor,  as  he  proceeded  to  assert  the  most  e^reme  claims  of 
dK  Papacy,  soon  became  apparent.  Nine  years  previously  there 
bd  succeeded  to  the  French  throne  Philip  IV,  a  man  bent  upon 
antinuing  the  work  of  welding  France  into  a  compact  monarchy. 
He  was  ably  assisted  in  his  government  of  the  country  by  men  of 
the  sword  and  men  of  the  law.  Between  the  Papacy  and  France 
diere  was  soon  precipitated  a  quarrel.  In  the  g^eat  struggle 
widi  the  Empire  the  Papacy  had  triumphed,  very  largely  because 
die  world-wide  dominion  to  which  the  Empire  aspired  was  op- 
posed to  the  tendencies  of  the  time.  In  its  struggle  with  France 
it  was  destined  to  fail,  because  it  had  come  into  conflict  with  one 
of  the  rising  forces  of  the  time,  that  of  national  development. 

Philip  the  Fair  was  the  representative  of  the  growing  feeling 
(rf  nationality.  The  French  and  the  English  kings  were  at  war 
with  each  other  over  the  possession  of  Guienne.  The  Pope  re-  pkUipxv 
quired  them  to  submit  to  his  arbitration,  and  when  they  refused,  qJJ^ 
he  i^ued  the  bull  Clericis  laicos  which  forbade  the  clergy  to  pay  wtth  tht 
taxes  or  to  make  gifts  %  taymsn  without  tiie  papal  consent,  and  ^^^ 
suminuucd- the-  French- prelates  ^-confer  with  him  in  Rome. 
Thb  bull,  one  of  the  most  important  pronunciamentos  of  the 
tBsqx>ral  power  of  the  papacy,  is  also  the  kesmote  of  its  decline. 
Bodi  Philip  and  Edward  I  replied  with  retaliatory  measures. 
The  former,  by  prohibiting  the  exportation  of  money  from  France 
widioat  the  royal  consent,  cut  off  French  contributions  to  Rome, 
h  ijoo,  while  this  struggle  between  the  medieval  Papacy  and 
tfie'riiang  tide  of  nationality  was  still  in  its  first  stages,  Boniface 
prodaimed  the  famous  year  of  Jubilee.  Remission  of  sins  was 
gnmted  to  all  who  should  visit  the  Holy  City  in  that  year.  Vast 
dinmgs  of  pilgrims  from  many  countries  came  flocking  to  the 
"  Areshold  of  the  apostles,"  filled  with  the  desire  to  see  the  holy 
places  with  their  bodily  eyes,  and  leaving  large  sums  of  money 
as  a  token  of  their  devotion.  Boniface  was  seemingly  tri- 
nmphant  He  had  crushed  the  Colonna,  his  personal  enemies  in 
Rome,  and  he  had  proclaimed  that  the  Pope  was  set  over  the 
^oofidoms  of  the  world,  to  aid  or  to  destroy.  But  he  could  not 
read  the  signs  of  the  times.  He  was  misled  by  the  outburst  of 
feverish  religioas  enthusiasm,  and  he  failed  to  estimate  the  grow- 


THE  RENAISSANCE 


^^^^*    ing  sense  of  nationality  in  Europe.    He  strained  the  bow  too  . 

se4-iso3  hard  and  it  broke  in  his  hands.  The  breach  between  the  Papacy  , 
and  France  went  on  widening.  The  people  of  France,  including  . 
the  lawyers  whom  the  recent  development  of  legal  studies  had  ' 
created,  and  even  the  clergy,  were  gathered  about  Philip,  for  they  I 
saw  in  him  the  champion  of  French  nationality.  In  the  course  ' 
of  the  controversy  the  papal  legate  was  imprisoned  and  brought  ^ 
to  trial.  In  reply,  Boniface,  on  December  5,  1301,  issued  the  * 
bull  Ausculta  fill  in  which  he  reasserted  the  papal  power  over 
kings  and  kingdoms,  denied  the  right  of  all  laymen  to  exercise  ^ 
any  power  over  ecclesiastics,  and  repeated  the  summons  of  the 
French  prelates  to  his  presence.  Philip  caused  the  bull  to  be 
burned  in  public;  the  legate  was  banished,  and  the  clergy  for- 
bidden to  attend  the  papal  conference.  On  November  18,  1302, 
Boniface  issued  the  bull  Unam  sanctam  in  which  he  declared 
that  the  Pope  holds  both  the  temporal  and  the  spiritual  sword,  of 
which  he  delegates  the  former  to  secular  princes;  and  that  it  is 
absolutely  necessary  to  salvation  that  every  human  creature 
should  be  subject  to  the  head  of  the  Qiurch.  Both  sides  b^^ 
the  final  attack.  At  a  meeting  of  the  States-General  in  June 
1303,  in  which  every  class  of  the  nation,  except  the  peasantry 
who  were  unrepresented,  voiced  its  protest  against  the  demands 
of  the  pontiff,  the  Pope  was  accused  of  heresy,  tyranny,  and 
unchastity,  and  an  appeal  was  made  from  him  to  a  general  council 
of  the  Church.  Boniface,  who  had  gone  to  the  little  mountain 
town  of  Anagni,  pronounced  excommimication  against  Philip 
and  was  preparing  to  declare  the  French  throne  vacant,  when  he 
was  seized  by  an  emissary  of  the  French  king  aided  by  Italians 
who  had  suffered  injury  at  the  hands  of  the  Pope.  It  had  been 
planned  to  capture  the  Pope  and  bring  him  before  a  Council  in 
Lyons,  but  one  of  the  cardinals  persuaded  the  repentant  populace 
of  the  town,  who  had  abandoned  the  Pope  to  hb  enemies,  to 
avenge  the  outrage  upon  the  pontiff.  The  conspirators  were 
driven  from  the  town  and  the  Pope  released.  A  few  weeks 
later,  greatly  weakened,  if  not  mad  with  rage  and  terror,  Boniface 
died.  The  outrage  of  Anagni  has  been  called  a  ''generative 
fact.**  With  it  the  political  supremacy  of  the  Papacy  comes  to 
an  end,  and  its  ecclesiastical  supremacy  is  threatened.  Even  the 
great  Innocent  III  had  failed  to  secure  for  the  political  claims  of 
the  Papacy  more  than  a  temporary  success,  and  since  his  time 
the  new  force  of  nationality  had  made  their  success  more  hope- 
less than  ever.  So,  when  those  claims  were  asserted  at  this 
time  by  a  pontiff  of  inferior  power,  in  words  more  haughty  than 
those  of  the  most  powerful  of  his  predecessors,  it  is  scarcely  a 


THE  PAPACY  II 


matter  of  surprise  that  the  struggle  ended  with  their  defeat.  <'K4P.i 
Henceforth  if  we  would  find  the  medieval  Papacy  we  must  isss-tt 
iesoend  with  Dante  to  visit  the  regions  of  the  dead. 

PofMfa*^  was  succeeded  by  Benedict  XI,  a  mild  and  concilia-  ' 
lory  Dominican  f riar,  who  died  within  a  year  after  his  accession 
to  Ae  papal  throne.  The  next  Pope,  Qement  V,  elected  after 
in  intenr^^um  of  nine  months,  was  the  nominee  of  Philip  IV. 
He  was  a  Frenchman,  and  after  his  coronation  at  Lyons  he  never 
set  foot  in  Italy.  For  some  time  he  wandered  over  Gascony  and 
Goienne,  stopping  wherever  he  found  reverence  and  entertain- 
■ent  Then  he  took  up  his  residence  in  the  town  of  Avignon, 
wliicfa,  in  1348,  became  the  property  of  the  pontiffs.  With  the 
dectioo  of  Clement  there  b^^n  the  long  foreign  residence  of  the 
Fqncy.  Seven  successive  pontiffs  resided  in  Avignon,  sur- 
nranded  by  French  influence  and,  in  the  opinion  of  contemporary 
Europe,  dominated  by  French  interests.  It  is  true  that  Clem- 
ent V  and  his  immediate  successor  bowed  to  the  will  of  the 
French  monarchy,  but  the  other  Avignonese  popes  were  more 
iodqKndent  of  French  control  than  has  been  commonly  sup- 
posnL  Qement,  at  the  instigation  of  Philip,  revoked  the  ob- 
ncudoos  bulls  of  Boniface  VIII,  and  concurred  in  the  suppression 
of  the  Templars  whose  property  the  king  desired  and  whose 
power  and  privil^^  he  wished  to  take  away.  The  next  Pope, 
John  XXII,  quarreled  with  Louis  of  Bavaria  who  had  succeeded  tim  '*Otp- 
to  the  Germanic  Empire ;  and  when  he  pronounced  heretical  the  £1  p»pi^ 
doctrine  of  the  Spiritual  Franciscans  that  the  Church  and  the  inAUcnon 
dogy  should  follow  the  example  of  Christ  and  his  apostles  and 
bold  no  corporate  or  individual  property  he  alienated  a  large 
part  of  that  powerful  body  and  also  great  numbers  of  the  Ger- 
BBo  peasantry.  Benedict  XII  was  a  modest  and  feeble  Cis- 
terdan  who  remained  a  monk  under  the  purple  robes  of  the 
pontifical  office.  Qement  VI  was  an  amiable  man,  luxurious 
and  lettered,  fond  of  the  society  of  scholars  and  artists,  and 
idf-indulgent  to  the  point  of  laxity.  Under  Innocent  VI,  a  bom 
ascetic  and  something  of  a  reformer,  the  license  of  the  papal 
court  which  had  become  notorious  was  somewhat  checked. 
Uilnn  V  displayed  no  little  sagacity  in  carrying  out  the  reforms 
to  which  he  was  earnestly  devoted.  He  returned  to  Rome  but 
deemed  himself  too  insecure  there  and  so  went  back  to  France. 
The  last  of  the  Avignonese  popes,  Gregory  XI,  was  also  an  able 
nan  of  high  character,  sincerely  though  not  very  aggressively 
active  in  the  work  of  ecclesiastical  reform. 

What  had  transpired  in  Rome,  the  erstwhile  capital  of  Latin 
Christendom,  during  all  these  years  of  the  ''Babylonish  Cap- 


THE  RENAISSANCE 


tivity  "  ?    Even  under  the  ablest  of  the  popes  who  lived  in 
before  the  Captivity  the  Papal  States  had  never  been  eflfecUfdlf^^ 
governed.    Every  city  of  importance  was  either  a  self  • 
community  or  subject  to  a  despot    In  Rome  itself  the  popes 
exercised  very  little  direct  authority.    Indeed,  in  turbulent 
popes  had  been  obliged  to  seek  safety  in  flight    It  was  a  diffiodt- 
city  to  govern.    Its  rabble  had  been  demoralized  ever  since  die  ^ 
days  of  panem  et  circenses.   Its  streets  were  narrow  and  tortuous,  ^ 
It  was  perpetually  crowded  with  thousands  of  foreigners,  maiqr 
of  whom  doubtless  discarded  their  own  code  of  morals  when  ^ 
they  visited  a  city  of  alien  manners,  a  fact  frequently  true  of  r 
travellers  today.    But  the  chief  cause  of  disorder  was  perh^ie  >t 
the  fact  that  the  great  feudal  families,  particularly  the  Orsini  ^ 
and  the  Colonna,  who  had  made  the  city  a  cluster  of  forti«   - 
fied  camps,  carried  on  warfare  with  each  other  within  the  city  ■ 
walls.    It  was  seldom  that  the  popes  when  they  were  in  Rome  - 
had  been  able  to  quell  the  disturbances ;  and  now  that  they  vrett   '.. 
absent,  the  lawlessness  and  the  license  went  on  without  restraint ;  . 
the  squalid  populace  was  the  prey  of  first  one  baronial  family  and  ^ 
then  another ;  and  brigands  came  up  to  the  very  gates  of  the  city.   ~ 
At  last  Cola  di  Rienzi  (i3i3?-54),  a  man  of  humble  birth,  totik    , 
it  upon  himself  to  restore  Rome  to  her  greatness.    He  persuaded    ' 
her  people  to  resist  the  oppression  of  the  nobles.    On  May  ao^    ^ 
1347,  a  self-governing  community  was  established.    But  it  was    ! 
only  for  a  brief  time  that  the  pale  shadow  of  the  great  republic 
had  been  evoked  from  the  ruins  of  the  Campagna,  for  Rienzi 
was  essentially  a  weak  man.    The  new  government  fell  at  the 
end  of  seven  months,  and  Rome  relapsed  into  anarchy. 

Despite  the  fact  that  the  removal  of  the  papal  residence  could 
be  justified,  in  part  at  least,  by  the  prolonged  state  of  political 
anarchy  that  had  prevailed  in  Italy,  the  residence  of  the  popes  in 
Avignon  had  the  most  deleterious  effects  upon  the  Church. 
When  the  Papacy  became  to  all  outward  seeming  the  mere  vassal 
of  France,  it  lost  in  a  large  measure  the  respect  and  the  allegiance 
of  other  countries.  Its  revenues  diminished.  To  offset  this  it 
resorted  to  increased  taxation  and  to  irregular  practices.  Bish- 
oprics and  abbacies  were  handed  over  to  laymen  in  consideration 
of  payments  to  the  Papacy,  that  they  might  enjoy  the  incomes. 
Plurality  of  benefices  was  allowed  for  the  same  reason.  The 
meshes  of  the  whole  network  of  the  deplorable  fiscal  system  were 
drawn  ever  tighter.  At  the  head  of  monastic  establishments 
were  men  better  fitted  to  wear  the  helmet  than  the  miter,  and 
on  the  episcopal  thrones  were  men  who  would  have  made  better 
bankers  than  bishc^.    Increased  fees  were  demanded  for  indue- 


THE  PAPACY  13 


lioo  into  the  episcopal  dlice  and  for  the  trial  of  cases  in  the  <'|^iu^z 
M  ttdeiiasrical  courts.  This  financial  system  contributed  with  the  1308-77 
H  Af^gDOoese  residence  to  a  great  loss  in  the  prestige  of  the  Papacy. 
M  Nb  longer  did  the  Papacy  derive  any  support  from  the  fact  of 
si  iriog  oatside  the  jurisdiction  of  any  one  of  the  conflicting  Euro- 
it|  fan  nations.  No  longer  did  it  obtain  additional  reverence  by 
Rsidence  at  the  shrine  of  the  two  great  apostles,  in  a  city  uni- 
msally  deemed  sacred  and  sonorous  with  the  voice  of  many 


Upon  the  religious  life  of  the  time  the  effect  of  the  captivity 
ns  DO  less  undesirable.    It  is  true  that  several  of  the  Avignonese 
popes  were  not  unworthy  men  themselves,  and  that  they  initiated 
tkit  patronage  of  the  Renaissance  which  the  papacy  generally  Btrtettoc 
nintained  until  the  Council  of  Trent ;  but  their  court  was  only  ^^*'" 
loo  often  a   center  of  scandal.    As  the  seat  of  the  Papacy,  tiMB«ii«- 
AvigDon  was  a  cosmopolitan  city  and  the  center  of  European  J^ygJ*** 
politics.     Artists,  scholars,  statesmen,  and  adventurers  flocked  Timt 
dsdier.     It  was  a  city  given  up  very  largely  to  worldly  affairs, 
to  pleasures  and  to  gaieties.    Its  corrupt  politics  and  foul  im- 
■orality  provoked  the  wrath  of  Dante,  the  mockery  of  Petrarch, 
aid  the  censure  of  all  who  had  the  welfare  of  the  Church  at 
heart    The  moral  state  of  Latin  Christendom  matched  that  of 
its  temporary  capital.    Everywhere  immorality  was  increasing. 
The  Franciscan  revival  was  a  thing  forgotten ;  and  the  preaching 
tmrs  of  St  Dominic  had  themselves  fallen  into  the  most  de- 
phfaUe  defeneration.    Among  the  monastic  and  secular  clergy 
aOEe,  monks  and  nuns,  prelates  and  priests,  moral  corruption  was      / 
tmpajoL    The  quarrel  with  the  Spiritual  Franciscans  had  pro- 
dud  a  profound  division  within  the  Church.    Lollardy  in  Eng- 
ksd  had  alienated  the  sympathy  of  thousands.    And  everywhere 
aystidsm  was  making  for  less  dependence  upon  the  Church  and 
ha  sacraments.    But  while  there  was  much  corruption  within 
the  Chorch  and  incipient  revolt  against  the  Papacy  there  were 
muty  devout  men  who  desired  the  return  of  the  pope  to  Rome 
and  an  internal  reform  that  should  sweep  away  the  crying  evils 
of  the  time.    It  was  St  Catherine  of  Siena,  a  dreamy  and  mystic 
girl,  who  in  a  state  of  ecstasy,  so  she  believed,  saw  Christ  and 
received  the  Host  from  the  hand  of  an  angel,  that  gave  supreme 
expression  to  this  spirit  of  religious  enthusiasm.    From  her  con- 
cell  she  had  dosely  watched  the  politics  of  Italy,  and  had 
aware  of  the  wide-spread  corruption  that  prevailed.    She 
determined  to  restore  the  Papacy  to  Rome  and  to  initiate  a  moral 
leform.    There  floated  before  her  eyes  **  the  vision  of  a  purified 
f'Cbirch,  of  which  the  restoration  of  the  papacy  to  its  original 


14  THE  RENAISSANCE 


>: 


^^"^^'^  seat  was  to  be  at  once  the  symbol  and  the  b^inning."  Display- 
1178-1418  ing  the  diplomatic  finesse  of  the  Italians  in  the  highest  dq;ret 
she  corresponded  with  popes  and  princes.  From  city  to  city  she 
went  pleading  for  peace  in  the  distracted  peninsula.  She  braved 
the  perils  of  the  sea,  and  at  last  stood  at  the  foot  of  the  papal 
throne.  What  passed  between  the  pontiff  and  Catherine  in  their 
final  interview  at  Avignon  we  do  not  know,  but  on  September  13, 
1376,  Gregory,  stepping  over  the  prostrate  body  of  hb  aged 
father,  took  the  road  to  Marseilles  where  the  galleys  had  secretly 
been  made  ready  to  take  him  to  Rome.  It  was  destined  that 
Gregory  and  Catherine  should  meet  only  once  more,  but  that  was 
on  Italian  soill  '  She  died  on  April  29,  1380,  having  proved  her- 
self  ^Q  be  fhe  leading  statesman  in  Italy  in  the  fourteenth  centuiy. 
Had  she  livetl,  her  purity  and  her  perspicacity,  her  ardor  and 
her  persistence,  and  the  feminine  grace  of  her  policy,  would 
doubtless  have  profoundly  modified  the  course  of  events. 

Gregory  died  fourteen  months  after  his  triumphant  entry  into 
the  Eternal  City.  Then  it  was  felt  that  a  great  crisis  was  at 
hand.  Only  by  the  election  of  an  Italian  pope  could  papal  resi- 
dence at  Rome  be  assured.  The  election  to  the  Papacy  of  a 
French  prelate  would  involve  a  return  to  Avignon.  The  con- 
clave resulted  in  the  election  of  Urban  VI,  an  Italian,  who  at 
once  began  measures  for  the  reform  of  the  curia  and  the  Church* 
But  so  tactless  was  he,  and  even  brutal,  that  he  soon  offended  a 
\  large  number  of  the  cardinals.  Still  more  important  than  their 
\  personal  dislike  of  Urban  were  the  deep-seated  motives  of  po- 
litical interest  that  made  the  French  cardinals  view  with  disfavor 
the  new  Italian  pope.  Six  months  later,  declaring  that  the  pres- 
sure of  the  Roman  populace,  in  its  demand  for  an  Italian  pontiff, 
had  prevented  the  free  action  of  the  conclave,  some  of  the  cardi- 
nals elected  Roger  of  Geneva  who  assumed  the  name  pf  Qem- 
ent  VII,  and  who  before  long  took  up  his  residence  at  Avignon. 
It  is  hiipossible  to  learn  the  absolute  truth  of  the  circumstances 
that  brought  about  the  gr^t.jscbism  in  the  Church.  The  wit- 
nesses of  one  side  take  sharp  issue  with  those  of  the  other.  But 
the  schism  was  an  indisputable  fact.  Motives  that  for  the  most 
part  were  purely  political  began  to  group  the  various  nations  and 
principalities  about  each  of  the  rival  popes.  The  German  Em- 
peror declared  for  Urban,  but  he  did  not  carry  all  the  Germanic 
principalities  with  him,  for  Bavaria,  Luxemburg,  Lorraine, 
Mainz,  and  other  German  States  lent  their  sanction  to  QemenL 
Italy  also  was  divided.  Naples,  Savoy,  Piedmont,  and  Monfer- 
rato  adhered  to  Qement,  while  the  remainder  of  the  peninsula 
acknowledged  obedience  to  Urban.    Scotland  held  for  Gement 


■ddmof 


THE  PAPACY  15 


imm 


Epg^and  supported  the  Roman  pontiff,  as  also  did  Flanders,  ^"^j^^ 

Haopry,  and  Poland.    France,  too,  was  divided;  the  English  iSTt-iiis 

foncssions    followed  the  leadership  of  their  ruler,  while  the 

Frendi  long  recognized  Qement    For  a  time  Castile,  Aragon, 

nd  Navarre  remained  neutral,  but  eventually  they  gave  their 

ipport  to  Qement,  while  Portugal  gave  hers  to  Urban.    Every- 

iKft  the  prelates  followed  the  princes  in  their  alliance,  and 

k  people  followed  their  pastors.    The  Schism  was  complete. 

Very  early  there  was  broached  for  the  settlement  of  the  Schism 

k  plan  of  a  general  council  of  the  Church.    But  g^eat  difficulties 

nt  in  the  way.    It  would  not  be  easy  amid  the  conflicting 

kferests  of  Europe  to  decide  upon  a  place  of  meeting.    The 

too  popes  were  opposed  to  it.    Who,  therefore,  should  convoke 

k?  Then,  too,  the  question  as  to  who  should  be  stunmoned  was  n«Ooi»- 

a&pnted  one.     And,  should  these  difficulties  be  overcome,  how  •*^®"*^ 

ORdd  the  decrees  of  the  council  be  enforced  ?    While  the  ques- 

tmof V geaei al  council  was  being  debated,  three  popes  of  the 

loaan  line  died  —  Urban  VI  in  1389,  Boniface  IX  in  1404,  and 

Inocent  VII  in  1406.    The  Roman  pontiff  was  now  Gregory 

ID.   In  1394  the  Avignonese  pope,  Qement  VII,  had  died. 

Si  successor  was  Benedict  XIII.    Some  of  the  cardinals  of 

Mb  popes  issued  an  invitation  to  all  bishops  to  attend  a  council 

cifaL    An  imposing  number  of  prelates  was  present  at  the 

(0bk3  which  met  injyo^.    The  two  29B^x.  baying  .failed  to 

ancr  the  summons  to  appear  at  tde  council,  were  solemnly 

iifiDied,  and  Alexander  V  was  elected  in  their  stead.    The  new 

fft  was   acclaimed  by  the  majority  of  the  countries.    But 

of  the  deposed  popes  acknowledged  the  action  of  the 

;  and  as  Naples,  Poland,  and  parts  of  Germany  continued 

to  obey  Grq[ory,  and  the  Spanish  kingdom  and  Scotland  per- 

■kd  in  their  aJl^^iance  to  Benedict,  the  rQnnril  ingHa4  of  les-* 

jsmg  the  number  of  popes  simply  added  a  third  one.    And  in 

Aeaartter  of  the  reformation  of  morals  the  council  did  nothing. 

Ik  oew  pope,  Alexander  V,  proved  to  be  altogether  too  feeble 

ad  indf ective  to  meet  the  crisis.    His  pontificate  was  a  short 

ODc;  lasting  only  a  litde  over  ten  months.    He  was  succeeded  by 

Jbim  XXIII  who  was  more  of  a  politician  than  a  priest,  more  of 

a  ooodottiere  than  a  Churchman. 

A  second  council  _was  inevitable.  It  was  opened  at  Constance 
B  1414,  and  continued  for  four  years.  John  XXIII,  the  pope 
feed  by  the  council  of  Pisa,  was  deposed  and  submitted  with  Th»c 
fole  opposition.  The  Roman  pope,  Gregory  XII,  resigned. 
Benedict  XIII  of  Avignon,  was  also  deposed,  but  he  stubbornly 
■ehued  to  jrield*     Wtei  he  died  in  1424  three  of  his  cardinals 


I 


i6  THE  RENAISSANCE 


<fB^^*i    elected  one  successor,  and  one  cardinal  elected  another.    9 
1S78-U18   eventually  these  ''phantom  popes"   disappeared.    Then  the 
was  left^qnlY  Ac  Ppi)ejwhD-haA  elected  by  the  council.j 

Constance,  Martia  V.  .-Thus  the  counc3  Had  accomplished  oi 
of  the  tasks  that  had  confronted  it.  The  Schism  had  been  heak 
In  its  attempt  to  check  the  spread  of  heresy  it  ccxnmitted  Jd 
Hus  and  Jerome  of  Prs^e  to  the  ilames.  But  as  for  the  moi 
reformation,  for  which  the  very  stones  in  all  Christendom  we 
crying  out,  it  did  practically  nothing.  Europe  was  hopelesi 
distracted,  and  the  council  failed  in  its  most  .important  wa 
very  largely  because  it  had  reflected  only  too  faithfully  the  n 
tional  dissensions  and  antagonisms  of  the  time. 

The  results  of  the  long  Captivity  and  the  Schism  had  be 
most  deplorable.  At  Avignon  the  papal  retinue  had  gradual 
become  larger  and  more  luxurious,  and  the  immorality  of  tl 
city  on  the  Rhone,  despite  its  thousand  belfries,  had  become 
BMtauof  byword  throughout  Europe.  And  when  the  Schism  had  occurr 
2JJ  sSan  ^^  nations  had  taken  the  side  of  one  or  the  other  of  the  m 
pontiffs  as  best  suited  their  own  interests.  Finally,  when  tl 
high  office  of  the  successor  of  St  Peter  was  contested  like 
temporal  throne  by  unworthy  disputants,  who  were  continual 
fulminating  excommunications  against  each  other,  it  had  fall 
into  greater  disrespect  than  ever.  The  papal  administration  hi 
become  demoralized.  Among  clergy  and  laity  alike,  immoral] 
had  spread  like  a  plague.  Corruption  in  every  rank  of  tl 
hierarchy  is  the  constant  theme  of  St.  Catherine  of  Siena;  ai 
the  reform  measures  considered  by  the  Council  of  Constan 
"are  eloquent  as  to  the  evils  which  they  were  designed  to  i 
move."  Very  largely  the  Church  had  ceased  to  answer  to  tl 
spiritual  needs  of  the  people,  and  so  heresy  had  been  fosten 
and  increased,  and  eventually  the  Protestant  Revolution  was 
result.  A  not  undesirable  impulse  was  given  to  Europe: 
thought.  Within  the  Church  the  anti-papal  theory  of  the  s 
premacy  of  general  councils  over  popes  had  gained  adhereo 
and  had  become  entrenched  in  the  University  of  Paris,  hither 
the  champion  of  orthodoxy.  Tliis  discussion  of  the  basis  of  pap 
power  was  not  without  result  The  ''old  tmquestioning  con 
dence  in  the  vice-gerent  of  God  was  gone." 
-'  The  Schism  had  ended ;  but  the  position  of  Martin  V  was  bca 
with  difficulty.  In  the  midst  of  the  conflicting  interests  of  n 
Th«  Bhru-  tions  and  of  individuals  he  had  to  regain  the  lost  power  ai 
pM^Md  prestige  of  the  Papacy,  and  to  effect  a  satisfactory  reformat^ 
oomidi  throughout  the  entire  Church.  Something  of  the  first  part  < 
this  ^eat  task  he  had  accomplished  when  he  died  in  I43i»  ai 


THE  PAPACY  17 

kad  abo  made  a  bq^inning  with  reform.    The  Council  of    <^^^  < 
■fiance  lad  provided  for  the  periodical  summoning  of  a  gen-    uia^o 
il  codadl ;  and  80  it  came  about  that  a  council  was  convoked 
Baad  in  1431.    Three  questions  confronted  it  —  that  of  re- 
■irttirdf  the  q>read  of  heresy,  especially  in  Bohemia ;  and       ,  - .  ^ 
ifcol-iBiBtifiA  tfa^  Greek -Qmrch,  the  ever-increasing  pres- 
le  of  Ac  Turkish  conquest  upon  the  Eastern  Empire  having 
m^  this  last  question  to  the  surface.    The  new  Pope,  Eu-  .  7 

m  W,  though  "  self-opinionated  like  all  Venetians/'  was  a 
■of  ci]lture»  skilled  and  aggressive.  He  viewed  with  disfavor 
e  iMkpendent  spirit  of  the  council,  and  the  cynical  politicians 
tit  cam  smiled  at  its  enthusiasm.  So,  another  struggle  b^n 
v«n  papal  abspluti3in  and  the  aristocracy  of  the  prelates, 
nbnig^continued  differences  between  the  pope  and  council 
bout  into  open  war.  On  September  13,  1437,  Eugene  de-  r' 
ed  the  council  to  be  dissolved  and  then,  as  a  foil,  he  sum- 
rf  another  one  to  meet  at  Ferrara,  which  duly  acknowledged 
mncy  of  the  papal  power.  He  desired  to  effect  a  recon- 
ioo  between  the  Greek  and  the  Latin  Churches,  and  the 
stremities  to  which  the  activity  of  the  Turks  had  reduced 
astern  Empire  seemed  to  furnish  a  fair  prospect  of  success. 
everal  reasons  the  Pope's  council  was  removed  from  Ferrara 
irence.  Thither  came  the  Byzantine  Emperor,  John  Palae- 
t  VI,  in  company  with  a  number  of  eminent  prelates  and 
ra.  It  was  argued  that  if  a  reunion  of  the  two  Churches 
be  brought  about,  men  and  arms  could  be  obtained  with 
{lal  influence  from  the  Western  powers  to  thrust  back  the 

Turk.  The  chief  doctrinal  differences  between  the  two 
hes  were  that  the  Greeks  held  that  the  Holy  Ghost  proceeds 
ly  from  the  Father  and  not  from  the  Father  and  the  Son, 
lat  the  Pope  does  not  possess  supreme  authority  over  the 
h.  Beneath  these  differences  in  dogma  were  deep-seated 
aices  in-  temperament,  in  history,  and  in  political  interests. 
0  dark  was  the  despair  to  which  they  had  been  reduced, 
it  length  the  Greeks  acknowledged  that  the  Holy  Ghost 
ids  from  the  Father  and  the  Son,  and  that  the  Pope  is  the 
of  Christ  upon  earth  and  the  supreme  head  of  the  entire 
h.  The  Council  of  Florence,  however,  did  not  result  in 
luoa  of  the  two  Churches,  for  the  action  of  the  Greek 
a  was  repudiated  by  the  Greek  people. 
die  meantime  the  Council  of  Basel,  which  had  denied  the 
of  the  Pope  to  dissolve  it,  was  pursuing  its  own  way,  and 
me  time  it  was  not  without  support.  In  1438  a  synod  of 
b  prdattg-MlSaargca  resolved  that  general  councQs  were 


/  1  k 


l8  THE  RENAISSANCE 

^^^*    to  be  stunmoned  every  ten  years,  recognized  the  authority  o 

1418-49     the  Council  of  Basel,  and  provided  for  a  number  of  ecclesiastia 

reforms  in  France.    This  was  the  assertipnby  a  national  churc 

of  the  right ,to jigtfrmine  for  itsdf  ti[ie.49ta}ls^_of  its  admimstn 

tion.    These  things  the  long  6J  France  made  binding  as  a  Pra| 

matic  Sanction.    The  Sanction  was  obnoxious  to  the  Pope  h 

cause  it  gave  countenance  to  the.conciliar  movement,  and  becauf 

it  served  as  an  example  of  national  opposition  to  the  universi 

authority  of  the  Papacy.    True,  the  Sanction  was  abolishe 

twenty-three  ;^ears  later^  but  it  was  another  indication  of  fE 

TbrtiiMd-   gathering  force  of  nationality.    The  G>uncil  of  Basel  venture 

S*[gig^y    to  depose  Eugene  for  summoning  a  new  cotmcil,  and  in  his  plac 

Vigor  and   it  elected  the  Duke  of  Savoy,  who  assumed  the  title  of  Felix  \ 

JJ^SSf*"*^  ^y  ^*s  time  the  council  had  lost  greatly  in  ntunbers  and  i 

B«T<oiiitioii  influence.    It  had  degenerated  from  a  body  earnestly  conunitti 

to  moral  reform  to  a  mere  '*  engine  of  political  attack  upon  tli 

papacy,"  and  afterwards  it  had  resolved  itself  into  a  mere  od 

lection  of  political  cliques.    So,  gradually,  it  lost  support.    En 

gene  was  succeeded  upon  his  death  by  Nicholas  V,  a  man  of  hig 

character,  whose  pacific  diplomacy  enabled  him  to  win  ovc 

Germany  from  the  Council  to  the  papacy.    Then  Felix  laid  asid 

his  office  and,  in  1449,  the  Council,  having  decreed  its  own  disso 

lution,  came  to  an  end.    The  Captivity  was  concluded,  tfa 

Schism  was  at  an  end,  and  the  Papacy,  though  not  restored  to  it 

former  power  and  prestige,  was  at  least  unmistakably  reinvigoi 

ated.    But  although  the  storm  was  past  and  a  period  of  com 

parative  calm  was  at  hand,  there  loomed  on  the  far  horizon  di 

ominous  clouds  of  the  Protestant  Revolution, 


CHAPTER  II 

fOUnCAL   AFFAIRS  IN   THE  AG£  OF  THE  RENAISSANCE 

I.  hfte  Holj  Roman  Empire:  Decentralization. 
1  fa  Fiance:  the  Hundred  Vears'  War. 
^  fa  the  Balkan  Peninsula:  Turk  and  Mongol. 
4  fa  llie  Italian  Peninsula :  Decentralization. 
i  fa  the  Spanish  Peninsula:  Centralization. 

HAVING  seen  something  of  the  ecclesiastical  and  religious  osap.u 
ecmditions  of  Europe  in  the  fourteenth  century  and  the  laTsIisos 
fat  Uf  of  the  fifteenth  it  will  be  well  to  get  a  bird's-eye  view 
d  Ae  political  affairs  of  the  continent,  to  treat  very  briefly  of 
tt  p^k*^^  history  of  the  Holy  Roman  Empire,  of  the  Hundred 
TanT  War  between  France  and  England,  of  the  coming  of  the 
tM  and  Mongol  into  Europe,  and  of  the  break-up  of  Italy  and 
Ik  ap-bniUing  of  Spain,  before  proceeding  to  deal  widi  the 
revivals  of  human  activity  that  constitute  the  Renais- 
An  oailiiie  of  these  events  will  serve  as  a  setting  for  a 
irij  of  those  deeper  forces  at  once  the  cause  and  the  conse- 
foce  of  the  eneigetic  and  full-blooded  activity  of  the  life  of 
tetaoe 

The  interregntmi  in  the  Germanic  imperial  power,  which  be- 
OBR  of  its  chaos  is  known  as  the  period  of  *'  fist  law,"  came  to 
a  od  in  1273  with  the  election  to  the  imperial  position  of  Ru;; 
4K,  count  of  Hapsbung.    The  last  thing  the  electors  desired 
VIS  a  powerful  and  vigorous  emperor,  so  they  chose  a  "  pauper 
atttt."    But  Rudolf  disappointed  them.    He   abandoned   the  aiasofiii* 
tfbrts  of  the  preceding  emperors  to  subjugate  Italy  and  con-  5^^!.^ 
OBDtratcd  all  lus  attention  upon  Germany.    From  the  control  Lozunp 
of  Bohemia  he  wrested  Austria,  Styria,  Carinthia,  and  Camiola,  mSiS^ 
vUcfa  had  been  added  to  the  Bohemian  territories  in  the  in-  ^*^ 
iemgnmn,  and  he  succeeded  in  making  the  Hapsburg  power  a 
iKtor  to  be  reckoned  with.    Because  of  the  important  terri- 
tories he  had  inherited,  the  electors  passed  over  Rudolf's  son 
it  Ae  dcction  m  1292  and  chose  another  petty  prince,  Adolf 
oi  Nassau,  for  the  imperial  ofiice.    His  brief  reign  of  six'year^ 
all  too  short  to  demonstrate  that  the  electors  had  made 
aaodier  mistake  in  their  search  for  a  puppet  ruler.    He  was 

IQ 


20  THE  RENAISSANCE 


Qg^'g  succeeded  in  I2q8  by  Albert  L  the  son  of  RiidQ)l^  and  the. 
uo8.it  ond  emperor  of  the  ilapslmnar  line,  whose  restless  rule  of 
'years,  devoted  chiefly  to  the  carrying  out  of  the  policy  of  « 
tralization  and  aggrandizement  inaugurated  by  his  father, 
^Hpf^  IP  jgn^  by  his  assassination.  The  electors  passed  i 
Albert's  son  and  chose  Henrv.  count  ^f  LOT^lpl^Mrg  The  r 
of  Henry  VH  lasted  only  five  years,  and  for  most  of  the 
he  was  absent  in  Italy,  having  been  lured  thither  by  the 
dreams  of  universal  empire.  The  next  election  was  a  dispi 
one.  The  Hapsburgs  put  forward  as  their  candidate  Jredei 
the  son  of  Albert  L  who  had  failed  of  election  at  his  fat! 
death;  while  the  opposition  forces  united  upon  LojUfis,  of 
house  of  Wittelsbachy  Duke  of  Upper  Bavaria,  known  m  his 
as  Louis  the  Bavarian.  The  electors  were  divided  and  a  do 
election  and  a  double  coronati(m  took  plac^.  Seven  yean 
dreary  warfare  ended  with  the  defeat  and  capture  of  Fredei 
and  then  a  quarrd  broke  out  between  the  Emperor  Louis 
the  Pope.    What  was  this  quarrel? 

John  XXII  was  the  second  of  the  Avignonese  popes. 
ending  of  tfie  protracted  war  between  the  two  claimants  for 
imperial  title  seemed  to  him  toT  threaten  theoagal_^tcrest 
Italy^  So  he  required  Louis  tg  IGifSiaer  his  crowp  am 
Qnarrti  await  the  papal  action,  without  which,  he  averred,  the  imp^ 
2|2^!^  election  was  of  no  avail.  But  Louis^  declined  to  submit  his  c 
•BdttM  to  the  curia,  and  it  was  with  his  exconmiunication  that  this 
struggle  between  the  empire  and  the  papacy15^;an.  When  J 
declared  Ihe  doctrine  of  the  Spiritual  Franciscans,  that  the  Chi 
and  the  clergy  should  hold  neither  corporate  nor  individual  p: 
erty,  to  be  heretical,  another  quarrel  was  precipitated,  ana 
the  arms  of  the  defiant  Emperor  the  recalcitrant  friars  ' 
advocated  this  doctrine  were  driven  as  allies.  Then  the  fi( 
gates  of  a  voluminous  literary  warfare  r^;arding  the  relat 
of  Church  and  State  were  opened  First  of  the  important  d< 
ments  in  the  battle  of  books  was  the  Defensor  Pacif.  issuer 
1324,  and  written  bv  Manyl^'n  ^^  Padn^j  ^Tg^rwi^ip^  and  J 
of  Jandum,  two  members  of  the  University  of  Paris.  The  0 
mal  sburcP  of  all  governmental  power,  the  book  declares,  re$ 
in  the  people.  The  public  law  is  valid  onlv  in  so  far  as  it 
presses  the  public  wilL^and  it  can  be  modified,  suspended^ 
abrogated  Dy  a  majori^  of  the  people  at  their  discretion. 
wer  of  the  jgrjiigfLis  merely  ddgpted  to_him  by_^ 
his  theory  of  popular  government  did  not  originate  widi  li 
silio.  It  was  enunciated  in  the  Roman  law,  and  it  had  t 
held  by  several  medieval  thinkers.    The  original  oontributior 


po 
TE 


POUTICAL  AFFAIRS  IN  THE  AGE  OF  RENAISSANCE     21 


ift  Italian  publicist  lies  in  the  fact  that  he  boldly  carried  the  roAP.n 
ttcory  over  into  the  ecdesfastical  field.    He  asserted  that  t^e    isib^ 
Cbirdi  consists  of  all  the  faithful  and  that  in  their  hands  rests 
die  ultimate  l^islative  and  elective  powers.    The  faithful  make 
known  their  will  through  the  instrtunent  of  a  ggi(ecaL-caundly 
[consisting  of  lavmen  as  well  as  ecclesiastics,  which  is  the  hig^ifiat 

m  the  Church.  ^The  pope  can  impose  upon 

decreed  by  the  council.    The  members^ 

[of  each  parish  have  power  to  elect  their  parish  _pD^^.    The 

rer  of  the  priesthood  is  equal  in  all  priests.    It  comes  directly 

Mm  God ;  it  does  not  require  the  intervention  of  a  bishop ;  and 

can  be  omferred  by  any  priest  upon  any  person  who  has  been 

dected  by  the  members  of  his  parish.    No  man  can  be^ 

or  even  tried  for  heresy,  for  each  is  responsible  for  ttfs 

bdi^fa  to  frfvl  alnn^.    Thpt  cleigy  are  entitled  only  to 

exemptions  and  privil^;es  directly  necessitated  by  their 

activity,  and  they  have  the  right  to  hold  only  as  much 

as  is  necessary  to  maintain  them.    The  relations  are 

as  a  priest,  has  no  greater  religious  power  than 

for  all  priests  are  equal.    Whatever  govem- 

autbority  he  may  possess  arises  out  of  expediency,  and 

out  of  any  faith  essential  to  salvation.    This  executive  au- 

18  derived  solely  from  a  general  council  and  requires 

ition  by  the  State.    The  pope,  then,  is  merely  an  ad- 

itive  official.    In  so  far  as  spiritual  matters  are  concerned, 

Church  has  no  visible  head  and  requires  none.    All  the  prop-_ 

of  the  Church  rightfully  belongs  to  the_em2eror,  the  supreme 

itative  of  the  people,  who  can  punis^}  any  <^<^1^«iiast^ 

was  the  most  audacious  of  all  the  attacks  yet  made  upon 

Churchy  an  attack  that  went  far  beyond  the  positions  that 

to  be  assumed  by  Luther  and  Calvin,  an  attack  that  had  to 

for  a  partial  realization  until  the  days  of  the  French  Revo- 

The  papal  controversialists  were  equally  bold.    Agostino 

I'lionfo  and  Alvaro  Pelayo  claimed  for  the  pope  absolute  au- 

over  the  entire  world. 
Among  the  Spiritual  Franciscans  who  flocked  to  the  support 
Loois  was  William  of  Occam  ( ?-'i549?),  an  Englishman  who 
P^ris,  where  he  was  a  distinguished  lecturer,  had  been  closely  inflanet 
aated  with  Marsilio  by  whom  he  had  been  greatly  influenced  ^jfj^j,^ 
his  political  thought.    Taking  as  his  point  of  departure  the 
ion  between  the  temporal  and  the  ecclesiastical  authorities 
asserted  that  to  the  temporal  power  belongs  the  control  of  all 
t  secular  things  of  life  and  that  to  the  ecclesiastical  power 
ere  is  entrusted  only  the  care  of  faith  derived  from  revelation. 


THE  RENAISSANCE 


■  f 


^^  The  Qiurch  has  no  coercive  authority ;  she  can  exercise  no  juris- 
j^  dicticml  i  bere  is  only  one  authority,  the  secular,  in  l^islatiir^ 
and  judicial  matters  alike.  The  power  that  makes  the  law  is  ^tM 
only  power  that  can  interpret  anS  apply  it  bo  the  cognizancj 
6t  WtUlt  IS  just  or  unjust  l)elongs  exdusively  to  the  secular  aiiA 
thority.  The  influence  of  Marsilio  and  Occam  upon  their  timfE 
was  not  very  wide-spread,  for  they  were  too  far  in  advance  of  it»^ 
Yet  they  did  much  to  help  the  legal  theory  of  the  inalienabli; 
and  imprescriptible  sovereignty  of  the  State  to  displace  the  medij^ 
eval  conception  of  the  subordination  of  the  State  to  the  Churcll|^ 
and  their  influence  seems  clearly  traceable  in  the  thought  of  tfali 
leaders  of  the  Protestant  Revolution. 

In  the  flaring  up  of  a  national  sentiment  in  Germany,  due  vi 
largely  to  the  French  residence  of  the  Papacy,  Xoui^  enjoyed 
important  advantage  not  possessed  by  his  imperial  predeci 
in  their  g^eat  struggle  with  the  popes.  But  his  personal  tmfil , 
ness  rendered  him  unable  to  profit  by  the  situation.  He  threwf 
away  the  opportunity  to  build  up  a  strong  central  government  b^ 
Germany,  spent  his  energy  in  pursuing  the  Italian  will-o'-the^ 
wisp,  alienated  many  of  the  German  princes  by  his  policy  o^ 
adding  to  the  territorial  possessions  of  his  family,  and  finally,  in; 


XV 


1346.  saw  himself  displaced  from  the  imperial  ^ffice  hy  th< 
tion  of  Charle<s  IV.     The  new  niler^  the  first  of  the  Boh 


emperors,  a  member  of  the  house  of  Luxemburg  and  a  g^n< 
of  Henry  VII,  was  a  diplomat,  a  peace-maker  above  all  thii 
else,  well  fitted  to  cope  with  the  serious  difliculties  that  coii>^ 
fronted  him.  In  four  years  all  opposition  to  his  election  ha^ 
been  smoothed  away  and  then,  practically  renouncing  the  imperia^ 
claims  to  Italy,  he  found  himself  free  to  devote  his  attention  W 
creating  an  effective  central  government.  Foremost  of  all  thtfii 
problems  to  be  settled  was  that  of  the  imperial  elections. 


solution  to  this  was  found  in  the  famous  Golden  Bull  of  i.rsfti 
which  restricted  the  right  to  vote  ^f\  j;^^  imp^^riaj  ^tections  to; 
seven  pnnces  —  the  arcnbishops  of  M?>iffy,  rnlng^^^  ^^fj  Trigr 
the  king  of  Bohemia,  the  count  Palatine  of  the  Rhinei  the  duke 
of  Saxony,  mJ  \H  ir^cr"^'^  nf  Fpndenburg.  The  new  law 
resulted  in  peaceful  elections,  but  it  increased  the  prestige  and 
power  of  the  electors,  whose  territories  were  never  to  be  divided 
and  whose  succession  was  to  be  determined  by  the  law  of  primo* 
geniture,  and  it  stamped  Germany  as  a  confederation  ra^ther  than 
a  nation.  At  his  death  in  1378  Charles  was  succeeded  by  his  son 
Wenceslaus,  a  boy  of  sixteen,  who  ruled  iairiy  well  during  the 
first  ten  years  of  his  reign,  but  who  afterwards  gave  way  to 
indolence  and  drink. 


POUTICAL  AFFAIRS  IN  THE  AGE  OF  RENAISSANCE     33 

It  was  in  the  time  of  Wenceslaus  that  the  Swiss  succeeded  in  char  n 
bmog  their  Conlederation  trom  all  external  coritr^except  tfiat  U87-i4io 
df  Bk  EuHiilgL  When  the  napsbuiig  :amily,  taking  advantage 
0^  tiie  anarchy  of  the  interregnum,  sought  to  win  for  itself  the 
territory  of  the  dbnipted  duchy  of  Swabia  the  villages  of  Uri, 
Sdiwyz,  and  Unterwalden  made  a  vigorous  resistance.  The 
courageous  little  communities  would  probably  have  been  crushed 
bd  not  the  Hapsburg  energy  been  deflected  lo  the  conquest  of 
Austria.  In  1291  they  drew  up  their  first  articles  of  alliance  of 
vfaich  we  have  record.  In  the  struggles  of  the  Hapsburg  family 
to  maintain  itself  in  the  imperial  position  the  young  confederacy 
fomd  its  opportunity  for  expansion.  When,  in  ^e  person  of 
Henry  VII,  a  Luxemburg  emperor  was  elected,  the  freedom  of 
tbe  moontain  league  from  all  control  except  that  of  the  Empire 
was  confirmed.  The  effort  of  Austria  in  131 5  to  check  the  grow- 
wg  power  of  the  Confederation  niet  with  disaster  in  the  battle 
of  Morgarten,  and  three  years  &tef*the  Hapsburgs  aclgiowledged 
the  independence  of  the  forest  cantons  trom  all  but  &e_im^rial 
amontY-  Thus  assured  of  its  position  the  Confederacy  ^as 
joined  by  several  of  its  neighbors,  by  Lucem  in  1330,  by  Zurich 
k  1351,  and  by  Glarus  in  1352.  In  this  last  year  it  was  that  the 
Confederacy  by  the  conquest  of  Zug  made  the  first  forcible  addi- 
tion to  its  territory.  The  following  year  witnessed  the  accession 
of  Bern,  the  last  of  the  eight  old  cantons.  There  was  as  yet  no 
ceotral  government,  and  the  union  of  the  eight,  which  had  various 
fdaioiis  with  each  other,  was  by  no  means  uniform.  It  was  the 
otemal  pressure  of  the  Austrian  menace  that  held  the  loosely- 
hit  confederacy  together.  When  at  last  hostilities  broke  out 
ipin  the  Swiss  in  the  battle  of  Sempach,  1386,  won  an  even 
Wt  decisive  victory  than  that  of  Morgarten  and  two  years 
Iilv  they  inflicted  another  defeat  upon  the  Austrians  at  Naf els. 
^  flig  treaty  of  i^8q  the  Haosburgs  repntmred  their  feudal 
mg  nv^r  r.iirpm,  r^lf^nis,  and  Zug  and  thus  left  thclittlc 
ifedcration  ^q  a  rnmpnnent  Dart  of  the  Emoire-subiect  only 
to  baptnai  control. 

The  apathy  and  incompetence  of  Wenceslaus  led  the  three 
ttdesiastical  electors  and  the  Count  Palatine  to  depose  him  in 
UCttumd  to  elect  one  of  their  ntunber,  SuESlLJhS-EDQfifi-Eala- 
tae.  in  his  stead.    Wenceslaus  declined  to  acquiesce  in  the  pro- 

^mgS   and    so    f(^T   t^    y«>rR  ^^eri>   yrac    an    imperial    crhkin 

Rq)ert  ruled  in  the  West,  and  Wenceslaus  retained  the  obedience 
of  the  East.  In  the  year  of  Rupert's  death,  1410,  the  electors 
<>iied  to  the  imperial  position  Sigismund  (1410-37),  a  half- 
^fother  of  the  unworthy  Wenceslaus  who  thereafter  for  the  rest 


THE  kENAISSANCE 


c^^^'^   of  his  life,  restricted  tc^.the  affairs  of  Bohemia,  remained  in 
1410-40     state  of  "  innocuous  desuetude."    To  Sigismund,  a  valiant  wa 
nor  who  had  exerted  every  effort  to  check  the  invading  Tuii 
was  chiefly  due  the  effort  to  solve  the  grave  problems  of  the  tin 

bv  summoning  the  Council  qf  ([^^^ttat^^^  The  failure  of  tf 
council  to  effect  t<>e  desired  reforms  rendered  impossible  tl 
fulfilment  of  Sigisraund's  cherished  plan  of  building  up  a  stror 
monarchy  in  Germany.  Everywhere  the  prevailing  disconte 
deepened.  The  Hussite  wars  broke  out  in  Bohemia,  and  all  tl 
disintqprating  forces  in  the  Empire  gathered  headway.  Wlu 
Sigismund  died  in  1437  ^^^  malt  line  of  the  house  of  Luxembui 
be^me  extinct  His  daughter  had  been  married  to  the  me 
who  succeeded  him,  Albert  of  Austria,  and  so  a  union  of  tl 
two  houses  of  Hapsburg  and  Luxemburg  had  been  effecte 
Unfortunately  Albert  H,  a  man  of  justice  and  energy  in  who 
all  those  who  desired  law  and  order  reposed  the  greatest  conj 
dence,  survived  his  election  only  a  year.  He  left  no  son,  ar 
so  a  Hapsburg  of  the  younger  line,  1<  rederick  HI  (1440-93),  wj 
The  Aw-  elected  his  successor.  The  fifty-three  years*  reign  of  Frederic 
P^^^'  a  man  altogether  lacking  in  the  qualities  required  by  the  critic 
condition  of  his  country,  was  a  disastrous  period  for  the  imperi 
interests.  On  the  West  the  national  feeling  in  England,  Franc 
and  Spain  had  resulted  in  each  of  those  countries  in  a  compa 
national  union.  France  acquired  Dauphiny,  Provence,  and  Bu 
gundy,  and  thus  extended  her  territorial  possessions  to  the  bord 
line  of  Germany.  In  the  East  the  Turks  were  steadily  advan 
ing;  Poland,  which  had  declared  her  independence  in  the  inte 
r^^um,  secured  additional  German  territories  for  herself;  ar 
Bohemia  acquired  Silesia  and  Moravia  and  became  practical 
independent.  Internally  the  imperial  losses  were  even  moi 
serious.  Ney^r  had  the  imperial  pow^**  g^n^  ^'^  l^^^  All  tl 
centrifugal  forces  were  unchained.  "The  Empire  is  attackc 
by  a  mortal  sickness,"  said  Cardinal  Nicholas  of  Cusa,  "  and 
will  certainly  perish  if  a  cure  be  not  found  immediately."  L 
us  then  pause  to  glance  at  the  rival  forces  that  were  making  f( 
the  dismemberment  of  the  Empire. 

First  there  were  the  pging  bo"*'^^  When  the  custom  of  divi 
n«BitfBff  ing  the  lands  of  a  ruling  prince  among  his  children,  a  gro 
hindrance  to  the  growth  of  powerful  houses,  had  been  done  aws 
with  by  the  introduction  of  primogeniture,  houses  that  aspire 
for  national  supremacy  began  rapidly  to  develop.  These  nc 
rivals  appeared  especially  along  the  frontier  for  there  it  wj 
easier  to  acquire  additional  territory.  In  1423  the  house  < 
^ettin,  which  for  long  had  held  die  mark  of  Meissen,  becan 


POLITICAL  AFFAIRS  IN  THE  AGE  OF  RENAISSANCE     25 

one  of  the  most  important  of  the  princely  houses  by  the  acquisi-  obat.u 
tioD  of  die  dectorate  and  duchy  of  Saxony.    The  power  of  the  1440.93 
hoow  was  greatly  lessened,  however,  by  the  division  of  Saxony 
m  1484  mto  the  Ernestine  and  the  Albertine  branches.    The 
house  of  Hohcnzollem  at  first  held  some  scattered  territories  in 
then  otners  in  Franconia.    Then  it  acquired  the  mark  of 
Bruidenbui^  and  afterwards  it  grew  by  various  means,  conquest 
and  inheritance,  until  at  the  end  of  the  fifteenth  century  it  was  a 
great  Germanic  power.    To  the  west  of  the  empire  there  lay  the 
loosely  connected  territories  of  the  Burfpmdia^  (^^p^ti^^ym.  substan- 
tially increased  in  the  reign  of  Duke  Philip  the  Good  (1419-67). 
Fhiij^  hoped  to  weld  his  motley  aggregation  of  possessions  into  an 
Cfganic  whole,  to  fuse  them  with  a  national  life,  and  to  transform 
hb  duchy  into  a  kingdom,  but  the  dream  was  vain.    His  son, 
Charles  the  Bold  (1467-77),  inherited  his  father's  ambitions.    He 
thought  to  win  for  himself  a  spacious  kingdom  between  Germany 
and  France,  and  gradually  his  dreams  grew  greater  and  before 
Ids  eyes  there  floated  the  alluring  phantom  of  the  imperial  crown. 
Within  the  Empire  there  were  lesser  dynasties  rising  into  power. 
When  in  1268  the  last  Duke  of  Swabia  died  a  considerable  part 
of  the  duchy  fell  into  the  hands  of  the  count  of  Wiirtemberg. 
Then  the  possessions  of  the  house  of  Wiirtemberg,  which  was 
he  first  to  make  imperative  the  indivisibility  of  territory,  adopt- 
ii^  the  principle  of  primogeniture  in  1482,  grew  steadily  until 
ia  1495  tfiey  were  made  a  duchy.    Two  other  rising  principalities 
were  the  margraviate  of  Hesse^  which  was  substantially  enlarged 
hy  Henry  of  Brabant  who  secured  possession  when  in  1247  the 
Hnc  of  the  former  rulers,  the  landgraves  of  Thuringia,  became 
otinct,  and  the  margraviate  of  Baden^  whose  scattered  terri- 
tories had  once  been  part  of  the  now  extinct  duchy  of  Swabia. 
Owing  to  the  frequent  subdivisions  of  its  territories  the  once 
powerful  house  of  Welf  was  a  waning  force  and  was  destined 
(     not  to  become  prominent  again  until  the  eighteenth  century  when 
a  prince  of  its  house  became  King  of  England. 

The  sycon4  force  that  made  against  national  unity  in  Germany 
was  the  increasing  power  of  the  electoral  princes^  The  right  of  JJ^ 
voting  in  the  imperial  elections  had,  as  we  have  seen,  been  con-  £;f^^ 
fined  by  the  Golden  Bull  to  seven  princes  of  the  realm.  None 
of  the  good  results  that  might  be  expected  to  flow  from  the  new 
|dan  of  electing  the  emperor  came  to  pass.  It  was  seldom  the 
sde  concern  of  the  electors  to  choose  the  best  man,  but  rather 
did  they  choose  men  whose  power  they  did  not  fear,  or  those  who 
bad  offered  the  most  tempting  bribes.  Then  when  the  Haps- 
burgs  grasped  the  scepter  diey  never  let  it  slip  from  their  hands, 


THE  RENAISSANCE 


with  a  single  unimportant  excq>tion  in  the  eighteenth  centuryp 
until  the  title  was  abolished  Candidates  were  obliged  to  pur- 
chase their  elections  with  relinquishments  of  imperial  power  that 
left  the  emperor  ever  more  and  more  a  mere  shadow.  And  jusi 
as  the  imperial  power  was  diminished  that  of  the  electoral  princes 
increased. 

A  third  disruptjgg  farce  was  that  nf  the  city  league,  the  Hansa 
assoaations  in  the  North  and  West  and  the  owsioian  League  in 
the  South.  In  the  fifteenth  century  the  Hanseatic  League  reached 
the  height  of  its  power,  carrying  on  its  commercial  operations  not 
only  in  Germany,  but  also  in  Lithuania,  Poland,  Russia,  Den* 
mark,  Norway,  Scotland,  England,  France,  Spain,  and  Portugal 
Charles  IV  had  realized  the  dangerous  disintegrating  tendencies 
of  the  municipal  confederations  and  in  the  Golden  Bull  he  sought 
to  cripple  them  by  requiring  all  such  associations  to  obtain  the 
sanction  of  the  territorial  lord  and  forbidding  the  towns  to  be- 
stow their  citizenship  upon  people  outside  their  walls  and  to  give 
shelter  to  fugitive  serfs.  In  spite  of  all  restrictions,  however, 
the  towns  continued  to  develop.  Never  were  the  city  leagues 
so  numerous  as  during  the  decades  immediately  following  the 
promulgation  of  the  Golden  Bull.  The  Hanseatic  League  was 
never  so  powerful  as  at  the  end  of  the  third  quarter  of  the  four- 
teenth century.  The  Swabian  League  was  able  to  compel  Charles 
to  grant  them  the  right  of  union  that  had  been  denied  to  them, 
and  under  the  feeble  Wenceslaus  its  gains  were  so  marked  that 
it  boasted  a  membership  of  seventy-two  towns  and  the  command 
of  ten  thousand  men-at-arms. 

A  fourth  element  making  for  decentralization  consisted  of  the 
imperial  knights,  belated  remnants  of  feudalism,  living  from  hand 
to  mouth,  hostile  to  all  the  other  forces,  the  princes,  the  burghers, 
and  the  bishops,  that  were  slowly  crushing  them  out  of  existence, 
and  preying  upon  them  whenever  opportunity  offered. 

Finally,  among  the  forces  hindering  the  development  of  an 
effective  central  government,  were  the  Vehmic  caurts>  survivals 
probably  of  the  courts  of  Charles  the  Great.  Appearing  first  in 
Westphalia,  where  they  flourished  best  and  acquired  an  immense 
power,  and  thence  spreading  throughout  the  empire,  these  secret 
tribunals  played  an  important  part  in  the  life  of  Germany  from 
the  end  of  the  twelfth  century  to  the  middle  of  the  sixteenth. 
They  were  of  two  kinds,  op^p  f  n^  secret.  The  open  courts  took 
cognizance  of  civil  suits  and  ordinary  crimes^  The  secrcS  courts, 
to  whose  meetings  only  the  members  of  the  Holy  Fehm  were  ad- 
mitted, took  charge  of  crimes  of  a  serious  nature,  especially 
heresy  and  witchcraft.    Their  rise  was  due  to  the  failure  of  the 


POLITICAL  AFFAIRS  IN  THE  AGE  OF  RENAISSANCE     27 

wopeml  power  to  enforce  law  and  order,  and  at  first  they  were   ^w^p^n 
a  beneficial  institution ;  but  gradually  their  secrecy  and  the  arbi-  u64-ist8 
iniy  diaracter  of  their  rules  changed  them  into  the  ready  tools 
of  Ae  lawless  and  selfish  forces  they  were  designed  to  resist. 

Sodi  were  the  concrete  causes  that  made  for  the  impotence  of 
Gemumy  as  a  national  power.  To  these  must  be  added  a  cause  B^Mii 
more  impalpable  but  none  the  less  potent  in  its  disastrous  effects  ^^ 
—the  theory  that  held  the  Empire  to  be  an  international  power 
and  thus  led  to  the  dissipation  of  its  energy.  Instead  of  regarding 
tbemsdves  solely  as  the  kings  of  Germany  and  making  them- 
sdves  the  leaders  of  the  national  sentiment,  the  emperors  al- 
lowed themselves  to  be  lured  by  the  will-o'-the-wisp  of  the 
■penal  title  and  tradition  into  the  quagmire  of  international 
djpiomacy  and  warfare.  Thus  all  through  the  Renaissance  era 
was  Germany  an  aggregation  of  principalide*^  ^ff  powers  and  not 
irobosc  monarchy. 


htamng  the  conglomeration  of  conflicting  elements  of  which 
the  Germanic  Empire  was  comprised,  we  have  now  to  deal  with  a 
people  who  became  imbued  with  a  powerful  sense  of  nationality 
ind  who  achieved  an  effective  national  union.    When  Henry  JI  Omum  of 
of  Anjou  became  King  of  England  in  1 1  ^  he  retained  his  great  £5^"^ 
Fftodi  possessions,  Normandy,  Maine,  and  Anjou.    Later  on  he  Iff***' 
HCQfed   the  overtordship  of  Brittany,  and  when  he  married 
Ekanor  of  Aquitaine  he  obtained  Poitou,  Aquitaine,  and  Gascony. 
He  was  succeeded  first  by  his  son  Richard  Lion-Heart,  who  left 
no  direct  heirs,  and  then  by  his  third  son  John,  who,  by  a  for- 
feitare  that  the  French  kings  regarded  as  absolute,  lost  all  the 
French  possessions  except  Aquitaine  and  Gascony.    In  1259  there 
«u  fffflflftH^H  thg  Treaty  of  Paris  hv  which  Henry  III  ^finitely 
lenonpced  all  the  revived  claims  of  England  to  Normandy,  Anjou. 
l^^ir^i  '^^WIP^  ^"d  Pnitnn.  and  by  which  he  agreed  to  hold 
Cascooy  as  a  fief  of  the  French  king.    On  his  part,  Louis  IX  ^ 
admowlcdfed  Henry  as  the  I^ik<>  nf  Agtiitaii^fi  (which  had  be- 
come known  as  Guienne)  and  cedgd  to  him  Rsv^gal  minor  tprrii 
tones.    The  trtSLty  was  dislike^  hy  th^  Fr^nrTi  because  of  the 
surrender  of  territory  fln/i  hy  thfi  'P'^p^^g^  because  of  the  aban- 
faunent  of  their  wide-sweeping  claims.    The  chief  thing  to 
note  is  that  the  agreement  confirmed  England  in  possession  of 
lenitofy  that  hindered  the  development  of  the  French  monarchy 
and  thus  left  a  doud  upon  the  horizon.    The  predominant  charac- 
tcriitic  of  Edward  I  (1272-1307),  one  of  the  greatest  of  the 
Bttfieval  idngB  of  England,  was  his  conscious  devotion  to  the 
canae  of  his  country.    Equally  devoted  to  the  welfare  of  France 
^ns  WBp  TV  (iJB5-l3i4),  who  included  among  his  projects 


28  THE  RENAISSANCE 


o^^^'P    the  ending  of  the  independence  of  Flanders  under  its  counts  and 
1888*88     th^  TOfaquest  of  Guienne,  m  ooth  ot  which  plans,  however,  he 
faiTgdr-^he  brief  feigns  Df  Philip's  three  sons,  J^ouis  X  (1314- 
15),  Philip  V  (1316-22),  and -Charles  IV  (1322-28),  were  all 
insignificant,  save  that  in  the  time  of  Qiarles,  with  whose  death  ^ 
the  main  line  of  the  house  of  Capet  came  to  an  end,  the  French  f 
encroached  uppn  Gascony,    Uneventful,  too,  and  dismal  was  the  c 
reign  of  Edward  II  (1307-27)  of  England.    It  was  left  to  the  j 
successors  of  these  kings  to  witness  the  opening  of  the  long  | 
impending  war.  < 

hilip  VI  (i.'^2&-j;o)^  Count  of  Valois,  the  first  of  the  Valois  j 
kings,  nepnew  of  rnuip  IV,  inherited  his  uncle's  ambition  to 
wrest  Aquitaine  (as  the  two  provinces  of  Guienne  and  Gascony 
came  to  be  called)  from  the  English.  Opposed  to  him  was  £d» 
wardjil  (1327-77),  one  of  the  most  energetic  of  the  English 
kSigs7who  exhausted  his  country  in  his  efforts  to  ruin  France. 
In  their  reigns  it  was  that  there  broke  out  the  long  and  terrible 
struggle  called  the  Hundred  Years'  War.  What  were  the  causes 
of  the  conflict?  On  the  one  hand  it  was  always  with  reluctance 
that  the  English  kings  did  homage  to  the  French  kings  for  their 
territories  over  the  water ;  while,  on  the  other  hand,  the  Erench 
Jdqgg.  actuated  as  they  were  by  the  natural  desire  te  wfai  ?or 
their  country  all  the  territory  from  the  Pyrfaeeg  ^t}  ^n  'P^gfjgh 
Channel  and  ^rom  the  Atlantic  to  the  Alps  and  the  Rhine,  seized 
every  opportunity  to  loosen  the  hold  of  the  English  kings  upon 
the  French  possessions  that  still  remained  to  them.  This  was 
the  fundamental  cause  of  the  war.  There  were  several  more 
immediate  causes.  First,  the  bitter  rivilry  of  the  Frmdi  and 
"pT^g^ifth  sailors  and  fishermen  resultedfrn  constant  quarrdsln  the 
Channel.  Second,  the  FrenA  frequently  gave  assistance  to  the 
Scots  in  their  wars  with  the  EnglisK^  and"  the  latter  "wereT)ec6iii- 
Ifig  convinced  that  it  would  be  possible  to  conquer  Scotland  only 
after  France  had  been  crushed.  Third,  the  English_jere  de» 
termmed  to  resist  the  encroachments  of  France  u|ion_  Flandoj, 
le  independence  or  Flanders  was  of  prime  importance  lolS^ 
land.  English  wool,  the  chief  product  of  the  island,  was  woven 
into  cloth  in  Flemish  looms  and  from  that  cloth  much  of  the 
clothes  of  Northern  Europe  was  made.  The  export-tax  on  wool 
was  the  largest  single  source  of  revenue  that  the  English  crown 
possessed  down  to  the  sixteenth  century.  Fourth,  Edward  III, 
through  his  mother^Jaid  claim  to  the  French  crown^  Tf  ai  woman 
could  iriHcnt  tEe  crown,  isaward  cercaihly  had  alright  prior  to 
that  of  Philip.  The  French,  of  course,  balked  at  the  idea  of  an 
English  king  in  Paris ;  and  so  it  was  declared  that  a  woman,  un- 


POLITICAL  AFFAIRS  IN  THE  AGE  OF  RENAISSANCE     a< 

4 

able  herself  to  inherit  the  crown,  cannot  even  transmit  the  crown,  ^'^[f^^ 
As  a  result,  the  personal  relations  of  the  two  kings  were  embit-  isss^o 
tered;  and  the  animosity  of  Philip  increased  when  Edward  gave 
refuge  to  his  mortal  enemy  Robert  of  Artois,  and  that  of  Edward 
deepened  when  once  more  the  French  gave  assistance  to  the 
struggling  Scots.  The  horizon  had  long  been  daricening.  At 
last  the  storm  broke. 

Men  and  money  were  gathered  in  England  for  the  imminent 
war;  and  alliancff,  which,  however,  proved  of  little  worth,  were 
made  with  tne  Netherlandish  princes  and  the  Emperor  Loiiis  the 
BavariacL  The  Englisli  woiT^  grea^  naval  victory  at^luys  m 
1340,  and  at  Crecy  in  i.'u6  jhev  were  even  more  overwhel55nplv 
jBoccssfn^  nn  th<>  }^^^  For  nine  years,  with  the  exception  of 
the  capture  of  Calais,  the  war  was  practically  at  a  standstill. 
Hostilities  continued  to  smolder;  but  both  countries  were  ex- 
hausted, and  throughout  Western  Europe  there  swept  the  terrible 
scoarge  of  the  Black  Death,  the  most  fatal  of  all  the  visitations  ThePint 
of  Ae  plague,  leaving  untold  desolation  in  its  wake.  In  134Q-  JJrJ^ 
bjr  treaty  and  purchase,  France  secured  the  important  province 
of  Dauphiny ;  and  in  the  toilowing  year  Philip  was  succeeded  by 
his  son  John  II  (1350-64),  who,  burning  with  desire  to  avenge 
the  disaster  of  Crecy,  attacked  Edward's  eldest  son,  the  Black 
Prince,  at  Poitiers  in  1356  with  greatly  superior  numbers,  only 
to  meet  with  a  defeat  equally  as  decisive  as  that  sustained  by  his 
iiAer.  JotoJbe  Good  was  himself  taken  captive  jind  was  sent 
to  England  where  he  "  went  a-hunting  and  a-hawking  in  Windsor 
forest  at  his  pleasure."  Under  the  dauphin  the  degeneration  of 
France,  that  had  been  going  on  since  the  outbreak  of  the  war, 
bcreased.  The^^ggj^sasts,  who  had  suffered  terrible  hardships, 
jDse  in  revolt  and  were  put  down  with  extreme  brutality.  At 
SETin^i^^  the  first  period  of  the  long  and  devastating  war 
came  to  a  close  with  tt^e  feace  of  Bretigny  in  which  Edward  re- 
nounced his  claim  to  the  kingship  of  France  and  to  all  territory 
north  of  the  Loire  in  return  for  full  ownership  without  homage 
of  Calab,  Guienne,  Gascony,  and  Poitou.  England  also  agreed 
to  end  the  alliance  with  Flanders,  and  France  that  with  Scotland ; 
and  for  the  release  of  John  the  sum  of  about  $2,500,000  was  to 
be  paid. 

The  ftmdamental  cause  of  the  war  remained.    Indeed,  the  very 
considerable  increase  of  the  English  possessions  in  France  se-  timBw- 
cored  by  the  Treaty  of  Bretigny  served  to  make  that  cause  still  ^ij^*^ 
more  potent.    So,  before  long,  the  struggle  was  renewed.    John 
was  succeeded  by  his  son  Charles  V  (1364-80),  who  since  his 
father's  capture  at  Poitiers  had  been  the  practical  ruler  of  France. 


THE  RENAISSANCE 


Hi^n  By  temperament  the  new  king  was  a  man  of  peace.  Even  had 
L«0o«8o  he  been  so  minded,  his  arm  was  too  weak  to  wield  a  weapon. 
But  he  fully  merited  the  epithet  of  "  Wise,"  for  he  was  patient, 
tactful,  and  diplomatic.  His  policy  of  peace  and  of  the  rehabili- 
tation of  France,  of  the  dressing  of  its  bleeding  wounds,  of  the 
strengthening  of  its  defenses  and  the  reparation  of  its  material 
loss  and  its  moral  ruin,  was  exactly  the  policy  calculated  to  result 
eventually  in  the  expulsion  of  the  invaders.  He  subdued  unruly 
nobles,  cleared  his  land  to  some  extent  of  the  vulture  hordes  of 
mercenaries,  punished  the  infraction  of  law,  and  prepared  for 
the  inevitable  renewal  of  the  conflict  with  the  hitherto  invincible 
English.  In  the  second  period  of  the  war  the  wisdom  of  the 
cautious  tactics  of  Charles  and  his  commanders  was  fully  demon- 
strated. The  French  avoided  pitched  battles,  kept  themselves 
shut  up  in  the  fortified  towns,  and  left  the  English  to  be  wasted 
by  want  and  disease  and  to  be  harassed  by  guerrilla  attacks. 
The  Black  Prince,  stricken  with  fever,  returned  to  England, 
where  his  death  was  soon  followed  by  that  of  his  father  and  by 
the  accession  of  his  only  child,  jSichardllj^i  377-99),  a  forlorn 
little  bovol.ten.  For  fiveyeys  the^English  had  lost  command 
qfjO^sSTandl^^rther  defeats  made  even  the  voyage  from  Dover 
to  Calais  a  perilous  one;  while  on  the  land  the  English  posses- 
sions melted  away  one  after  the  other.  But  heavy  losses  befell 
the  French,  for  the  death  oLT^^r^r^"^  ^^1  nuey^lii^^  the  ablest 
of  their  generals,  was  followed  in  a  few  weeks  by  that  of  Charles. 
the  wisest  of  their  kings.  With  the  passing  of  all  these  grtsi^ 
figures  the  second  period  of  the  war  came  to  a  ,gonclusion. 
Charles  VI  (i  380-1 421)  was  also  a  child  when  he  came  to  the 
M  Third  throne.  Like  Richard  of  England  he  was  a  handsome  and  lovable 
•  War'  ^y»  ^^^  ^^  Richard,  too,  he  was  unfitted  to  rule  in  so  tem- 
pestuous a  time.  About  the  lad  there  clustered  his  uncles,  the 
Dukes  of  Anjou,  Berry,  Burgundy,  and  Bourbon,  each  greedy 
to  advance  his  own  personal  interests,  each  oblivious  to  the  wel- 
fare of  the  country,  who  plunged  him  so  deeply  into  voluptuous- 
ness and  sensuality  that  they  led  him  on  to  madness.  All  through 
the  remainder  of  his  life  he  was  lucid  only  at  intervals  and  was 
always  subject  to  the  dictation  of  whomsoever  happened  to  have 
control  of  his  person.  So  oppressive  were  the  financial  burdens 
of  this  third  period  of  the  war  that  everywhere  from  the  Alps 
to  the  Bay  of  Biscay  and  from  the  Pyrenees  to  the  Cheviot  Hills 
the  people,  with  an  essential  identity  of  cause,  rose  in  rebellion. 
jTn/^^r  YiM  ^y\ftX  the  peasants  from  the  Southeastern  counties 
of  England  demanded  the  abolition  of  serfdom.  At  Roucg  the 
coppersmiths  opened  the  prisons  and  destroyed  the  charters ;  tht 


POUTICAL  AFFAIRS  IN  THE  AGE  OF  RENAISSANCE     31 

ftrisiaiis_scizcd  twelve  thousand  mallets  and  for  three  days  were    ^^'^^^ 
lers  of  the  city;  in  Flanders  the  burghers  rallied  around     i4i8.8« 

Philip  von  Artevelde  only  to  be  cut  to  "pieces  by"  the  TreiicTi  at 

Roosebeke ;  and  in  Auvergne,  Languedoc,  and  the  old  Sw^bian 
iadtsv  the  uprising  oF  the  peasants  an  J  the  townspeople,  goaded 
to  desperation  by  the  misery  of  war  and  taxation,  were  sup- 
pressed with  unspeakable  cruelty.  The  quarrels  between  the 
relatives  of  Charles  gradually  resolved  themselves  into  one  be- 
tween his  younger  brother,  Louis,  Duke  of  Orleans,  and  his 
jotmgest  uncle,  Philip,  Duke  of  Burgundy.  The  Burgundians 
were  dever  enough  to  enlist  the  support  of  the  tax-ridden  pedjfle^ 
bring  especially  dipl^iatie  m  winning  the  support  of  the  Paris- 
ktts;  while  their  opponents,  the  Orleanists,  who  from  their 
leader  received  the  name  of  Armagnacs,  represented  the  forces 
of  feudalism.  All  Fjance  becamje^involYgd  in  the  war  jof.  the 
factions,  the  whole  country  was  ravaged,  and  for  two  years  Paris 
was  m  the  hands  of  the  turbulent  proletariat. 

In  the  early  years  of  this  war  of  Burgundian  and  Armagnac 
neither  pichard  II  nor  l^i^  ^^ff^gcnr^  T^^nry  IYS^3DQt'''V3)»  was. 
in  a  position  to  make  an  effort  to  regain  England's  lost  posses-  tim  Tmmt 
aons;  Put  with  tlie  accession  of  Henry  V  (1413-22).  a  wild  SSwiS' 
prince  suddenly  transformed  into  a  sober  monarch  of  iron  will, 
itiops  changer^  ^nd  a  fqurth  period  of  the  war  began.    Once 


more  knglisii  neets  swept  the  narrow  Channel;  and,  m  141^,  the 
fidd  of  AgiT|^Qyjt  \yas  reddened  with  the  blood  of  the  flower  of 
French  chivalry.  The  rivalry  of  the  French  factions  continued 
to  paralyze  the  national  activity,  the  king  was  mad  and  the  queen 
»as  licentious,  and  so  when  two  years  later  Henry  began  the 
<»^*fart  of  the  country^m  earnest  he  found  but  a  feeble  qippoa. 
ntioa.  The  murder  of  the  leader  of  the  Biu^ndians  by  an 
Annagnac  retainer  drove  the  former  party  into  the  arms  of  the 
English.  By  the  Treaty  of  Troyes,  signed  between  the  English 
and  the  Burgundians,  Henry  was  married  to  the  daughter  of  the 
oazy  king  and  declared  to  be  the  Regent  of  France  and  the  heir 
of  Us  father-in-law.  The  dauphin  Qiarles,  who  was  associated 
with  the  Armagnacs,  did  not  approve  of  the  iniquitous  agreement ; 
bat  the  opposition  was  powerless  to  stay  the  advance  of  the  Eng- 
lish and  Burgundian  armies,  when  suddenly,  in  1422,  Henry 
died|,  and  a  month  later  he  was  followed  to  the  grave  byTfiiaLt  ^& 
lymboi  ot'  his  counties  decadence,  rfi^hiad  kmgTTharles.  Henry 
VI  (1422-61)  was  a  babe  of  nine  month s ,  w5£aielB5:aoie"  King 
id  and,  so  far  ais  the  treaty  with  the  Burgundians  could 
I,  King  of  France,  while  his  rival,  Charles  VII  (1A22- 
61),  was  a  jrouth  of  nineteen.    Son  of  a  mad  father  and  a  disso^ 


32  THE  RENAISSANCE 


mm 


^i'^^^-"    lute  mother,  it  is  little  wonder  that  Charles,  who  spent  most 
1413-29     his  years  safe  inside  the  walls  of  strong  castles,  proved 

^ly^^h  ip  hoHy  an^  mind.  He  held  his  court  at  Bourges,  while 
Duke  of  Bedford,  uncle  of  the  infant  Henry  and  Rq;eiit 
France,  made  his  capital  at  Paris.  This,  then,  was  the  conditklfe' 
at  the  close  of  the  fourth  period  of  the  war.  Roughly  spealdof^: 
all  the  territory  North  of  the  Loire  and  East  of  that  river  aii  £i^ 
south  as  Lyons  refused  allegiance  to  Charles,  while  in  the  Soufll 
much  of  the  country  that  surrounded  Bordeaux  was  lojrally  Eo|^' 
lish.  The  remainder  of  the  Southwest  was  held  by  self-seekii]|f  < 
nobles  not  actually  committed  to  either  side;  and  in  the  Soutfaeul' 
Provence  was  practically  independent.  Only  the  center  ol  : 
France,  a  mere  remnant,  acknowledged  Charles.  Armagnac% 
Burgundians,  and  English,  hordes  of  armed  brigands  who  cared 
little  for  the  cause  for  which  they  fought,  ravaged  the  wretched 
country,  laid  desolate  the  fields,  sent  up  the  villages  in  smoke; 
tortured  and  killed  the  starving  peasants,  and  found  the  only 
effective  resistance  to  their  plundering  forays  in  the  walls  of  the 
cities  whose  inhabitants,  forewarned  by  experience,  denied  ad- 
mittance to  them  one  and  all.  Such  was  the  mournful  situation 
when,  while  the  siege  of  Orleans,  the  gate-way  to  the  central 
provinces,  was  under  way,  there  appeared  upon  the  scene  the 
last  and  fragrant  flower  of  medieval  civilization,  Jeanne  d'Aic^ 
the  savior  of  France. 
We  do  not  know  a  great  deal  about  Jeanne  before  she  was 
Tif  Pifth  drawn  into  the  whirlpool  of  war.  She  lived  at  Domremy,  a 
^1^^'  little  village  in  the  green  and  narrow  valley  of  the  Meuse,  oo 
^MniM  the  highway  from  Dijon  to  Flanders.  But  whether  Domren^ 
belonged  to  France  or  to  the  Empire,  to  Champagne  or  to  Lor- 
raine, we  are  altogether  uncertain,  so  complex  were  the  feudal 
relations  of  that  border  region.  Even  her  name  is  uncertaiiL 
The  name  "  Dare  "  came  to  her  from  Arc,  the  place  from  whence 
her  father  came.  But  in  those  days  a  girl  usually  had  no  sur- 
name. She  was  known  only  by  her  first  name,  or  if  she  had 
another  it  was  from  her  mother  that  she  got  it  and  not  from 
her  father.  The  habit  of  taking  the  father's  name  was  only  just 
coming  into  vogue.  Jeanne  of  Domremy  was  called  Jeanne  la 
Pucelle;  and  when  she  was  ennobled  she  took  the  name  Jeanne 
du  Lis,  doubtless  from  her  banner.  Her  own  village  was  devoted 
to  the  Armagnac-French  cause,  while  the  neighboring  village  of 
Maxey  was  attached  to  the  Burgundian-EngHsh  side.  Between 
the  two  villages  there  were  frequent  disputes  upon  the  burning 
question  of  the  time;  up  and  down  the  highway  there  traveled 
the  news  of  the  weary  struggle,  and  on  the  northern  horizon 


POLITICAL  AFFAIRS  IN  THE  AGE  OF  RENAISSANCE     33 

Jcume  tnore  than  cmce  saw  the  columns  of  smoke  that  marked  cu^n 
Ae  tiatis  of  the  bands  of  soldiers  that  harried  the  countryside.  1429.53 
So  an  through  her  childhood  and  youth  she  must  have  been 
fnuliar  with  the  sore  plight  of  France.  Slowly  there  dawned 
npoo  the  peasants  the  consciousness  of  the  fact  that  the  first  step 
to  cod  the  horrors  to  which  they  were  subjected  was  to  expel 
the  Ei^iish ;  their  French  oppressors  could  be  dealt  with  after- 
ward.   And  that  belief  was  implanted  in  the  heart  of  the  child. 

One  summer  noon  when  Jeanne  was  in  her  father's  garden  she  jeuuM't 
hd  a  vision  of  the  archangel  Michael,  and  to  the  frightened  little  ^J^J^g, 
pA  die  angelic  visitor  returned  again  and  again  in  succeeding 
hji.  Gradually  her  fear  passed  away.  Other  heavenly  visi- 
tads  appeared,  and  St.  Catherine  and  St  Margaret  bade  her 
to  go  to  the  help  of  the  unhappy  King.  For  several  years  she 
kft  die  apparitions  a  secret  In  the  house  and  in  the  fields 
de  worked,  a  true  peasant's  daughter.  She  nursed  the  sick,  and 
brad  to  hear  the  angelus  sounding  sweetly  the  twilight  benedic- 
tioo.  For  some  years  the  'Woices/'  as  ^e  chose  to  call  them, 
repeated,  though  indefinitely,  their  injunctions  to  save  France. 
h  142B  the  village  of  Domremy  was  raided  and  set  on  fire, 
tftor  which  the  commands  of  the  voices  became  more  definite. 
Qrleaos  was  to  be  delivered  from  the  English  investment,  Charles 
was  to  be  consecrated  and  crowned  at  Rheims,  and  then  there 
vere  vague  words  about  driving  the  English  from  France.  In 
kr  own  day  men  did  not  deny  that  voices  spoke  to  Jeanne,  but 
londered  only  whether  they  were  divine  or  devilish.  In  our 
4xf  men  wonder  whether  she  was  mentally  deranged  or  an  im- 
postor. Both  of  these  modem  impressions  are  wrong.  All  of 
IB  have  visions  unless  we  have  been  educated  out  of  them.  It  is 
die  hardest  thing  in  the  world  to  discriminate  t)etv^een  what  we 
know  and  what  we  imagine.  It  must  ever  be  ronembered  that 
Jeanne  was  a  peasant  girl,  that  the  only  education  she  ever  re- 
ceifed  was  the  religious  teaching  given  in  the  parish  church,  that 
it  vas  a  natural  thing  for  her  to  hear  voices,  that  many  in  that 
tme  saw  visums  and  dreamed  dreams,  that  the  woods  that  sur- 
fomided  her  village  were  full  of  spirits  and  fairies,  baleful  and 
beneficent,  who  had  lived  there  since  the  days  of  Merlin,  aye, 
and  beyond  that  in  those  far-off  days  of  which  we  have  not  even 
a  legendary  record.  The  sincerity  and  the  sanity  of  Jeanne  are 
certain.  Whatever  one  may  think  of  her  visions  and  her  voices, 
be  sore  they  were  to  that  sound  and  sweet  and  noble  girl  the 
gravest  of  realities. 

At  last,  in  the  middle  of  February  ia2Q.  after  meeting  with 
nany  humiliating  refusals  of  aid,  clad  in  male  attire  and  accom- 


34    •  THE  RENAISSANCE 


Oi 

and 


OBi^^  panied  by  six  armed  men,  Jeanne  set  out  from  the  nearby  castle 
2i894»  of  Vaucouleurs  for  Chinon  where  Charles  was  keeping  his  court 
Through  the  heart  of  France  they  rode,  often  avoiding  the  inns 
JtaiiiM*s  for  fear  of  detection  and  sleeping  in  the  winter  fields.  After 
protracted  examinations  at  Chinon  and  Poitiers  she  was  sent 
at  the  end  of  April  with  a  Jittlc^tTtny  of  about  three  thousand 
men  and  several  of  the  ablest  of  the  French  captains  to  put  an 
end  to  the  weary  siege  that  Orleans  had  suffered  for  seven 
months.  In  this  manner  did  the  fifth  and  the  last  period  of  the 
war  open.  She  infused  new  courage  into  the  hearts  of  the 
demoralized  French  soldiers  and  with  undaunted  enefgy  drove 
the  English  from  the  outlying  and  strongly  fortified  tower  of 
the  Tourelles,  which  they  had  captured,  and  compelled  them  to 
abandon  the  siege.  The  effect  of  this  victory  upon  the  morale 
of  the  French  may  well  be  said  to  have  been  miraculous.  The 
downcast,  downtrodden,  and  despairing  country  was  thrilled  with 
a  fierce  confidence  in  its  new  leader,  the  boastful  assurance  of 
the  English  began  to  disappear,  and  the  whole  course  of  the  war 
was  changed.  There  were,  however,  two  parties  at  the  court 
At  the  head  of  one  was  La  Tremoille,  a  selfish  and  unscrupulous 
nobleman  who  had  secured  control  of  the  weakling  king,  and  who 
saw  his  own  defeat  in  the  establishment  of  an  orderly  government 
that  would  follow  a  final  triumph  of  the  French  arms.  So  a 
month  was  lost  in  indecision  before  the  campaign  to  drive  the 
English  from  the  valley  of  the  Loire  began.  Jeanne  wished 
Charles  to  be  crowned  at  Rheims  without  delay,  but  she  was 
overborne  in  the  matter.  When  military  operations  were  re- 
sumed the  French  captured  Jargeau,  Meung,  and  Beaugency; 
and  at  Patay  the  English,  g^reatly  outnumbered,  after  a  feeble 
resistance  left  2,500  dead  upon  the  field.  With  such  evidence 
as  this  the  ecstatic  faith  of  Jeanne  in  her  mission  became  more 
contagious  than  ever  and  despite  the  fact  that  the  road,  lined 
with  fortified  towns,  ran  for  one  hundred  and  fifty  miles  through 
the  hostile  country  of  Champagne,  the  cowardly  king  at  last 
yielded  to  the  urgent  pleadings  of  Jeanne  that  he  go  to  Rheims. 
The  danger  was  not  nearly  as  great  as  it  appeared,  for  the  Eng- 
lish garrisons  of  the  towns  were  small  and  the  French  inhabitants 
not  difficult  to  win  over.  The  march  was  accomplished  in  safety ; 
the  king  was  crowned;  and  Jeanne,  then  at  the  culmination  of 
her  career,  was  eager  to  press  forward  in  the  work  of  driving 
the  English  from  France.  Troyes  had  already  submitted,  and 
now  in  quick  succession  Beauvais,  Senlis,  Laon,  Soissons,  Cha- 
teau-Thierry, Provins,  Compi^[ne,  and  other  towns  acknowl- 
edged Charles  as  their  king.    If  quick,  aggressive  action  had 


POLITICAL  AFFAIRS  IN  THE  AGE  OF  RENAISSANCE     35 

been  taken  the  hated  foe  could  unquestionably  have  been  expelled,  cw^n 
But  the  <^  indecision  and  delay  caused  valuable  time  to  be  spent  liss-M 
in  aimless  wanderings.  The  intrigues  of  La  Tremoille  made  the 
fmtfaer  success  of  the  French  army  practically  impossible;  and 
so  iriien  in  September  Jeanne  led  the  troops  in  an  attack  upon 
Paris  that  was  repulsed,  she  met  with  her  first  bitter  disappoint- 
ment. She  never  wavered  in  her  belief  that  she  was  divinely 
inspired,  but  the  unbounded  confidence  she  once  instilled  in  the 
hearts  of  men  was  gradually  dissipated.  Thereafter  most  of  her 
c£Forts  resulted  in  failure,  and  at  the  end  of  May  in  the  foUow- 
11^  year  she  was  captured  in  the  siege  of  Compiegne.  The  story 
of  tier  trial  need  not  detain  us  long.  For  three  months,  with  an 
interval  of  sickness,  the  unlettered  peasant  girl  of  nineteen  years, 
enfeebled  and  harassed  by  the  brutal  treatment  of  her  jailors, 
omfronted  the  learned  theologians  and  l^sts.  "  I  see  many 
cotmselors,"  she  might  well  have  said,  as  did  Mary  Stuart  at 
Fotheringay,  "but  not  one  for  me."  Yet  she  had  not  much 
need  of  a  l^gai  counselor,  for  her  fate  would  have  been  the  same, 
and  her  simplicity,  sincerity,  and  native  shrewdness  enabled  her 
to  evade  the  most  ingenious  attempts  to  make  her  convict  herself 
of  wrong-doing.  On  May  30,  1431,  the  fagots  were  lighted  in 
the  old  market-place  at  Rouen  and  the  last  word  that  Jeanne 
uttered  with  her  blistering  lips  was  the  name  of  Jesus.  So 
perished  the  peasant  girl  of  Domremy,  while  in  all  the  long 
months  of  her  imprisonment  and  trial  there  had  come  from  those 
whom  she  had  delivered  from  the  depths  of  despair  never  a  let- 
ter offering  ransom,  never  a  message  threatening  retaliation  upon 
the  captive  English  leaders,  and  never  a  lance  to  attempt  her 
rescue.  Yet  the  life  of  Jeanne  d'Arc  was  not  in  vain.  About 
her  name  there  gathered  the  memories  of  the  sorrows  inflicted 
iqxm  France  by  the  foreign  foe.  In  her  the  spirit  of  nation- 
ality found  an  inspiring  leader.  Because  of  her  devotion  and 
her  deeds  the  fierce  hatreds  of  Burgundian  and  Armagnac  b^;an 
to  cool.  Out  of  her  life,  "  stainless  amid  all  the  corruptions  of 
the  camp  and  compassionate  amid  all  the  horrors  of  war,"  a  new 
patriotism  was  bom  in  France.  For  her  country  she  brought 
together  its  shattered  elements,  made  it  hale  and  whole,  and  into 
it  she  breathed  the  spirit  of  her  sweet  and  tender  heart,  her 
noble  and  unconquerable  soul. 

The  En^ish  gained  very  little  by  the  capture  and  judicial  n*  b«. 
nrardcr  of  Jeanne.    Not  all  the  criminal  self-seeking  of  La  2?i^ 
TrtmoiDe  and  the  other  perverse  counselors  of  the  miserable 
poppet  of  a  king  could  turn  back  the  growing  tide  of  French 
patriotism.    All  that  it  could  do  was  to  delay  the  final  ex- 


THE  RENAISSANCE 


"^^'°  pulsion  of  the  English  for  a  score  of  years.  In  1433  ^^  ^^^' 
L429-68  torous  f avorite  was  surprised  in  his  bed  by  the  opposing  faction 
and  thrown  into  prison.  Gradually  the  French  auxiliaries  de- 
serted the  English  ranks.  fifidffl£d»  the  leader  of  the  English 
forces,  <jiVd  i|](j[435 '»  ^^d  in  the  same  year  Philip  of  Burgundy 
br^ke  ^us  alliance  with  the  invaders.  The  {ignDan.42fiasdnts, 
made  desperate  by  the  license  ot  the  English  soldiers,  mrip  to  thr 
ajdj^f  the  feands  of  mercenaries  in  tb<^  hire  ni  yranre,  Paris 
was  regain^in  1436.  btm  tne  dreary  war  dragged  on.  The 
French  solHTers  were  nothing  less  than  brigands;  £corcheurs, 
skinners  or  flayers,  their  captains  were  called;  and  they  were 
dreaded  alike  by  Uiose  whom  they  came  to  deliver  and  those 
whom  they  came  to  despoil.  In  order  to  rid  France  of  the  in- 
vader it  was  necessary  to  yy^rg^niz^  \\i^  mtlittiry  ^^^''^^  So 
the  indiscriminate  forming  of  free  companies  and  the  carrying 
on  of  private  war  were  forbidden,  and  all  the  troops  were  paid 
:  out  of  the  royal  treasury  and  placed  directly  under  royal  au- 
;  thority.  In  order  to  procure  the  necessary  revenue  to  do  this 
'  the  taille  was  taken  out  of  the  hands  of  the  nobles  and  made 
'  exclusively  a  national  tax.  The  men  to  whom  these  reforms  were 
chiefly  due  were  ^ichfilQQQL  constable  of  France  and  long  an 
enemy  of  the  worthless  La  Tremoille,  ^uiqISa  ^  captain  who  had 
fought  with  Jeanne  d'Arc,  ^"^J^^Qllffl'^^nri  "*  wealthy  merchant 
of  Bourges.  Thus  was  llie  monarchy  sent  once  more  along  the 
roacl. tQjdtȤQlutisin.  A  formidable  revolt  of  the  nobles,  the 
Praguerie,  against  these  measures  was  suppressed,  and  with  the 
reorganized  army  the  English  were  at  last  expelled  from  France, 
retaining  of  all  their  great  possessions  only  the  town  of  Calais. 
The  warfare  of  a  century  had  laid  desolate  the  land  of  France. 
Everywhere  the  condition  of  the  peasantry  was  wretched,  and 
the  prosperity  of  many  of  the  towns  had  long  been  halted.  But 
out  of  all  the  misery  tiiere  was  born  a  deepened  national  feeling. 

~^ •  Before  we  proceed  to  consider  the  break-up  of  Italy  and  the 

urk  and  building  of  Spain  we  must  stop  to  note  the  coming  of  the  Turk 
2^^  and  the  Mongol  into  Europe,  and  to  glance  at  the  dying  empire 
of  the  East  The  Mongols  originally  came  from  the  valleys  of 
the  upper  tributaries  ol^lhe  Amur  in  Northern  China.  Their 
greatest  leader  was  lenghiz  Khan  (1162-1227^  whose  victorious 
armies  swept  from  the  plains  in  central  Asia  westward  as  far 
as  the  Dnieper.  Long  before  this  great  invasion  the  ^^slJP^^P 
Turks,  who  were  also  from  Northeastern  Asia,  had  established 
themselves  in  Asia  Minor.  After  the  Mongolian  invasion  an- 
other division  of  the  Turks,  the  Ottomans^  "^Qved  westward  to 
the  Mediterranean^  and,  in  Asia  A^inor,  mingled  with  the  kindred 


POUTICAL  AFFAIRS  IN  THE  AGE  OF  RENAISSANCE     3 

race  and  conf  nHited  the  decaying  Byzantine  empire.  The  Otto-  ohap^i 
man  Tnrks  were  a  young  nation  and  to  the  freshness  and  vigor  laeo-iM 
of  tfadr  life  was  added  the  fanaticism  of  the  conquering  religion 
of  Mohammed.    Under  Orkan  ( 1360-89)  the  Turkish  posses- 


sioiis  were  made  to  include  all  of  AsJaLMinor  and  were  consoli- 
dated with  consummate  skill,  while  the  dwindling  Greek  do- 
minioa  remained,  as  it  had  always  been,  a  collection  of 
heterogeneous  nationalities.    Then  under  MnraH  T   (¥3^^-^) 


kindred  race  under  the  dreaded  Timur  (i'^^S-IjIqO,  or  Tamer- 
hne  as  we  call  him,  which  had  T)een  sweeping  westward,  cap- 
tared  Bagdad,  Aleppo,  and  Damascus.  Thus  for  a  time  "the 
attention  oi  tne  lurKS  was  diverted  trom  their  westward  ad- 
Tance  to  their  Eastern  frontier.  Indeed,  with  the  defeat  and 
captore  of  Bayazid  by  Tamerlane  the  Turkish  power  seemed 
to  have  crumbled  to  dust,  and  the  existence  of  the  Byzantine 
empire  indefinitely  prolonged. 

At  the  opening  of  the  thirteenth  century  the  fourth  crusade 
had  been  deflected  from  its  destination  to  Constantinople,  that 
capital  had  been  captured,  and  a  Latin  empire,  with  G>unt  Bald- 
win of  Flanders  at  its  head,  had  taken  the  place  of  the  effete 
Byzantine  empire.  The  Byzantine  rule  was  restored  in  1261, 
bnt  only  a  miserable  remnant  of  its  once  extensive  territory 
remained.  So  it  was  but  a  feeble  resistance  that  could  be  of- 
fered to  ihe  Turks,  who  after  the  death  of  Tamerlane  regained 
thdr  vigor  and  continued  their  western  conquests.  The  appeals 
of  the  Byzantines  to  the  Christians  of  the  West  to  help  them 
to  stay  the  infidel  tide  fell  upon  heedless  ears,  and  so  the  Turks 
were  able  to  continue  the  systematic  and  gradual  extension  of 
tbdr  possessions.  Constantinople,  left  like  an  isle  in  the  midst 
of  the  Mohammedan  sea,  was  surrounded  by  their  conquests. 
But  on  their  Western  frontier  it  was  Latin  Christendom  the 
rurks  now  ccmfronted,  an^l  they  JnunA  it  ^\^\e  fn  nff<>r  a  mnrft 
rtabbom  rest^t^nr^  than  Hreek  Christendnm  had  showr^^  Un- 
der the  adventurous  Imight  and  able  general  John  Hunyady,  the 
Hungarian  forces  drove  the  Turks  back  across  the  Balkans ;  but 
they  failed  to  press  on  to  Adrianople,  the  Turkish  capital,  and 
finally  met  with  defeat  In  ^jt^^  the  Turks  raptu^d  Constaq- 
Jjpople,  At  last  the  day  of  Byzantium  had  come  to  its  end  and 
Ae  n^t  had  fallen.  For  more  than  a  hundred  years  the  Turk- 
ish invasioo  of  the  Christian  continent  had  been  in  progress  and 
the  fan  of  Constantinople  could  not  have  been  difficult  to  predict 


38  THE  RENAISSANCE 


og^y-°  Yet  it  came  as  a  great  shock  to  the  Christians  of  the  West-- 
UC0-U6S  They  were  ashamed  to  think  they  had  lifted  not  a  hand  to  averC: 
the  capture  of  the  last  citadel  of  the  ancient  Greek  civilization* 
They  were  afraid  of  the  further  advance  of  the  Mohammedan 
tide,  now  that  every  vestige  of  the  intervening  barrier  had  dis- 
appeared. Their  apathy  had  allowed  the  Turks  to  sectire  pos* 
session  of  one  of  the  most  famous  capitals  of  their  continent, 
to  cement  the  hitherto  divided  territory  in  Asia  and  Etirope,  and 
to  become  a  European  power.  But  when  the  first  sorrow  died 
away,  the  old  indifference  was  resumed.  Europe  was  separatitf 
into  distinct  nations,  each  with  its  own  problems,  and  the  ideals 
of  the  age  of  the  Crusades  lived  on  only  here  and  there,  in  the 
heart  of  a  Prince  Henry  the  Navigator  or  of  a  Christopher 
Columbus. 
While  France,  England,  and  Spain  were  rising  into  vigorous 
xuiyAfitr^^national  life,  Italy  was  sinking  into  political  insignificance.  It 
ittirfSm^"'  ^^^  ^  mere  congeries  of  principalities.  Let  us  tiben  glance  at 
the  seven  Italian  States  that  were  the  chief  divisions  of  the 
peninsula  in  1305  at  the  beginning  of  the  Avignonese  captivity. 
In  the  South  the  kingdom  of  Naples  and  Sicily  belonged  to  the 
house  of  Anjou,  summoned,  in  the  person  of  Charles  I  (1266- 
85),  a  younger  brother  of  King  Louis  IX  of  France,  by  the 
Papacy  across  the  Alps  to  Italy  to  assist  in  driving  the  imperial 
power  from  Italian  soil.  In  1282,  fifteen  years  after  the  com- 
ing of  Charles,  the  Sicilians  revolted  against  his  harsh  rule, 
compelled  the  withdrawal  of  his  forces  from  the  island  and 
persuaded  Peter  III  of  Aragon  to  accept  the  crown.  Thereafter 
the  Angevin  possessions  were  confined  to  the  kingdom  of  Naples. 
Charles  II  (1285-1309)  was  succeeded  by  his  second  son,  R^d^fict 
(i.^o^^^^L  who,  having  outlived  his  own  son,  Charles  of  Cala- 
Dna,  leit  tiis  grand-daughter  Giovanna  I  (1343-82)  his  only 
direct  heir.  An  attempt  to  make  the  rule  of  a  female  more 
secure  by  a  marriage  with  her  cousin,  Andrew  of  Hungary, 
resulted  in  arousing  the  jealousy  of  some  of  the  Neapolitan  nobles 
and  in  creating  opposition  to  the  Hungarian  influence.  The 
story  of  Naples  an  J  its  rulers  we  shall  continue  later  on.  We 
are  here  concerned  only  with  the  beginnings  of  the  principal 
Italian  States. 

Venice  ^a«  fmin^^ed  by  men  who,  fleeing  in  terror  from  the 
ferocious  Huns^  left  the  rich  and  pleasant  plains  of  Padua  for 
the  shallow  salt-marshes  and  low  sandy  islands  of  the  Adriatic, 
While  the  mainland  of  Italy,  overrun  by  the  pitiless  robber  bands, 
was  falling  into  ruins,  these  peaceful  islanders  went  their  way 
building  slowly,  with  tireless  energy,  their  tmique  city  of  the 


POLITICAL  AFFAIRS  IN  THE  AGE  OF  RENAISSANCE     3 

idflir<*  was  the  first  and  const?"t  thO'^P^*^  ^^  t^^  obm^.j 
VgMHiang  and  it  was  maintained  with  the  utmost  tenacity  and  isM-iso 
coura^ne.  Their  political  life,  dominated  by  a  powerful  aris- 
tocrncy,  enjoyed  a  stability  unknown  to  the  principalities  and 
communes  of  the  mainland;  and  when  the  riches  of  the  Orient 
were  in  part  disclosed  to  Western  Europe  their  city  became  the 
gateway  to  those  shining  lands  and  grew  to  be  a  commonwealth 
unsurpassed  in  commercial  prosperity. 

It  was  in  the  confusion  resulting  from  the  ^mharH  invajsinn 
that  Genoa  b^:an  to  gain  her  independence.  Additional  im- 
munities  were  obtained  from  time  to  time  by  contending  nobles 
until  at  last  it  became  a  self-governing  commune.  Its  prosperity 
was  greatly  enhanced  by  the  expansion  of  commerce  consequent 
upon  the  Crusades,  and  Genoese  traders  established  themselves 
m  the  Levant,  on  the  shores  of  the  Black  Sea,  and  on  the  banks 
of  the  Euphrates.  For  two  centuries  a  fierce  rivalry  raged  be- 
tween Genoa  and  Pisa,  but  after  the  victory  of  the  former  in 
the  battle  off  the  island  of  Meloria,  in  1284,  the  latter  lost  most 
of  its  maritime  power  and  Genoa  was  left  to  contend  for  com- 
mercial supremacy  with  Venice. 
Milaiia.  one  of  the  most  important  of  the  Roman  cities,  at  the 
lux  of  g^eat  commercial  highways,  had  been  the  capital  of 
the  decaying  Empire.  Seated  in  the  middle  of  a  great  and  fertile 
plain  it  never  lost  its  importance  andjjecame  a  great  center  for 
the  manufacture  of  wool,  silk,  armor,  and  jewelry ;  and  a  center, 
also,  of  a  great  agglomeration  of  republics  and  lordships. 

JOocCDCfi,!.  unlike  Milan,  was  one  of  the  least  important  of  the 
Italian  cities  in  the  days  of  the  Empire,  and  she  developed  later 
than  did  the  cities  of  the  Lombard  plain  and  still  later  than  the 
maritime  republics.  But  gradually  Uie  little  town  began  to  grow 
and  to  enter  upon  a  career  of  conquest  until  at  last  it  became 

t^  capiat  of  the  mo^t  m^rt^^nf  r<>piih1ir  \i^  TMsrany- 

Last  of  the  important  provinces  in  Italy  at  the  opening  of  the 
Renaissance  era  was  the  Paoal  State^  acquired  by  real  or  pre- 
^gided  giffe  ^^  frnp^mrQ  and  other  rulers,  and  occupying  the 
center  of  the  peninsula.  It  must  be  remembered  that  these 
seven  States  that  we  have  noticed,  Sicily,  Naples,  Venice,  Genoa, 
Milan,  Florence,  and  the  Papal  State,  were  only  the  principal 
divisions  of  Italy  at  the  opening  of  the  fourteenth  century.  The 
many  minor  communities  in  the  Northern  part  of  the  discordant 
peninsula  we  shall  not  stop  here  to  notice. 

Such  was  the  disrupted  condition  of  Italy  when  the  popes  took 
ap  their  residence  in  Avignon.  The  inhabitants  of  the  peninsula 
did  not  speak  of  themselves  as  Italians,  but  as  members  of  the 


40  THE  RENAISSANCE 


fXRAP.Ti  State  to  which  they  belonged,  as  Florentines,  Milanese,  or  Nea- 
1806-77  politans.  The  aim  of  every  one  of  the  numerotis  political  divi- 
sions of  the  peninsula  was  merely  to  secure  free-play  for  per- 
sonal interests  or  party  intrigues  by  making  still  weaker  the 
central  authority,  by  keeping  alive  the  antagonism  of  pope  and 
emperor.  The  significance  of  Guelf  and  Ghibelline  had  long 
evaporated,  but  the  innumerable  factions  still  conjured  with  the 
names  and  sought  their  petty  local  and  personal  interests  in  the 
deepening  anarchy  to  the  sacrifice  of  the  common  welfare.  Yet 
there  were  men  who  dreamed  of  a  tmited  Italy.  Dante  longed 
for  some  leader  who  could  rise  above  the  paltry  politics  of  his 
own  State  and  undertake  the  task  of  healing  the  dissensions  of 

luiyDnr.    his  country,  of  welding  it  into  a  nation.    Petrarch,  too,  never 

lS5^*of^  considered  himself  as  merely  a  Florentine  but  as  an  Italian. 

tiMFapaoj  When  he  saw  the  Italian  communities  either  oppressed  by  the 
yoke  of  sanguinary  tyrants  or  torn  by  internal  dissensions  and 
ruined  by  fratricidal  wars  among  themselves  he  uttered  in  his 
Italia  Mia  a  passionate  plea  for  national  union  that  was  pathet- 
ically premature.  All  these  dreams  were  doomed  to  defeat  for 
yet  five  hundred  years.  The  tragic  drama  of  Italian  politics 
moved  rapidly  to  scenes  of  still  greater  degradation.  Italy 
failed  utterly  to  understand  the  profound  change  that  was  being 
consummated  by  the  creation  of  a  deep  national  sentiment  in 
other  countries.  She  had  few  statesmen  who  perceived  the 
signs  of  the  times  and  none  who  could  command  effective  sup- 
port. Let  us  note,  briefly,  some  of  the  more  important  of  the 
political  events  that  took  place  in  Italy  at  this  time. 

The  Holy  Roman  emperors  had  not  yet  either  explicitly  ot 
implicitly  abandoned  their  claim  to  suzerainty  over  Italy,  but 
for  sixty  years  they  had  failed  to  make  any  practical  assertion 
of  it.  In  i;^ii  Henpr  Y^^  <>nfprp/1  fbfl  pf"<"«^"i^  Never  had 
there  been  an  emperor  so  well-fitted  for  the  task  of  replacing 
anarchy  with  unity.  Far  above  the  petty  intrigues  of  German 
princes  and  Italian  despots  Henry  moved  serene  with  his  heart 
set  upon  justice.  He  was  the  chivalrous  ideal  of  all  Italians 
who  longed  to  see  an  ending  made  of  their  deplorable  political 
divisions.  Dante  wrote  an  impassioned  address  to  the  rulers 
and  people  of  the  peninsula  hailing  the  new  Emperor  as  the 
deliverer  of  Italy.  But  Henry  failed.  In  spite  of  his  desire 
to  keep  aloof  from  either  faction,  tUe  situation  forced  him  to 
ally  himself  with  the  Ghibelline  party,  and  then  in  1313  he  died 
suddenly  of  fever. 

The  .^pla  family  at  Verpna  may  be  chosen  as  the  t)rpe  of  the 
despotic  rulers  ot   the  period.    When  the  cruel   Ezzelino   da 


POUTICAL  AFFAIRS  IN  THE  AGE  OF  RENAISSANCE     41 


RcMnano^  whose  thirst  for  blood  was  never  satisfied  or  equaled,      

died  m  1259,  Mastino  della  Scala  was  chosen  by  the  citizens  as  isoo-rr 
then*  diief  magistrate,  and  the  tyranny  that  he  established  became 
dynastic  and  continued  in  power  for  more  than  a  century.  The 
most  illustrious  of  the  family  was  Cangrande  della  Scalla  ( 1308- 
29),  an  abk  and  ambitious  soldier,  a  bold  and  clever  statesman, 
one  of  the  greatest  of  the  Ghibelline  chiefs  of  Northern  Italy. 
He  made  considerable  additions  to  the  already  extensive  terri- 
tory of  his  family;  and,  with  no  mere  selfish  end  in  view, 
dremied  of  the  political  unity  of  the  whole  peninsula;  but  he 
died  suddenly  when  he  was  only  thirty-eight  years  of  age. 

Summoned  by  the  Ghibelline  leaders  in  a  time  of  need,  an- 
odier  emperor,  J^ni*^  TV,  called  by  the  old  chroniclers  in  scorn 
and  ^'it^-rl  **t^f;  finY^*^''np'*  entered  the  peninsula  in  1327,  had 
himself  crowned  in  Rome,  deposed  as  a  heretic  Pope  John  XXII 
of  Avignon  who  had  excommunicated  him,  set  up  an  anti-pope, 
and  then  hurried  back  to  Germany  to  look  after  his  interests 
diere  without  having  given  any  efiective  aid  to  his  Italian  allies. 
The  next  invader  of  Italy  was  King;  John  of  "Rnh^ia  who 
entered  the  peninsula  in  1330.  Son  of  Henry  Vll,  he  could 
ngfatf  uUy  expect  the  support  of  the  Ghibellines.  Friend  of  Pope 
John  XXII,  he  had  a  good  claim  upon  the  allegiance  of  the 
Gudfs.  And  so  many  communities  hastened  to  place  them- 
sdves  under  his  control  that  it  seemed  for  a  time  as  if  the  dream 
of  Italian  unity  would  come  true.  But  the  legacies  of  hate  were 
ftin  too  deeply  cherished  to  be  dispelled  by  the  first  effort.  The 
affairs  of  Ek^emia  demanded  John's  hasty  return,  and  when  he 
went  back  to  Italy  he  found  the  task  to  be  a  hopeless  one.  So 
be  turned  his  back  upon  the  warring  factions  and  made  his  way 
over  the  Alps. 

The  invasions  of  Henry  of  Luxemburg,  Louis  the  Bavarian, 
and  John  of  Bohemia  had  left  behind  them  bands  of  mercenary 
solders  who  lived  by  brigandage  or  were  taken  into  the  employ 
of  the  despots  in  the  work  of  putting  an  end  to  the  independence 
of  the  republics  and  aggrandizing  the  despotisms.  Knowing 
littie  about  the  cause  for  which  they  were  fighting  and  caring 
less,  concerned  only  with  their  pay,  their  plunder,  and  the  grat- 
ification of  their  lust,  these  pitiless  robbers  and  murderers  left 
desdation  and  death  in  their  wake.  "  Un  icorcheur  ne  peut  pas 
9Bir  em  enfer/'  boasted  such  a  bird  of  prey,  "  parce  qu'il  trou^ 
hlerait  la  repos  du  diable!*  The  republics  were  not  slow  to 
foOow  the  example  of  the  despots  in  hiring  these  mercenary  i 
troops.  The  cjguiotti^xifm^s  the  leaders  of  these  soldiers-of- 
fortune  were  called,  found  numerous  opportunities  for  self« 


42  THE  RENAISSANCE 


^'^^^'P    advancement.    They  became  commanders  of  independent  armieSy 
19M-77     lending  their  aid  to  those  who  offered  the  highest  pay.    They 
became  wealthy.    Some  won  for  themselves  ephemeral  terri- 
torial possessions,  while  others  conquered  important  States,  and 
founded   famous   dynasties.    At  first  these  mercenaries  were 
foreigners,  but  in  the  latter  part  of  the  fourteenth  century  they 
;  were  gradually  replaced  by  Italians.    Among  the  more  famous 
;  of  the  condottieri  were  "  Duke  "  Werner,  Moriale,  Lando,  Bar- 
^biano,  Attendolo,  Braccio,  Francesco  Sforza,  John  Hawkwood, 
\Colleoni,  Gattamelata,  and  Carmagnola. 

'  In  this  period  it  was  that  the  death  of  Robert  of  Naples 
plunged  that  kingdom  into  indescribable  anarchy.  His  heir,  as 
we  have  seen,  was  his  granddaughter  Giovanna  I  (1343-^),  a 
girl  of  sixteen,  who  in  her  childhood  had  been  married  to  her 
cousin,  Andrew  of  Hungary.  Q^^y^""^  ff^^  to  be  a  wilful  and 
dissolute  woman  and  her  liusband  proved  to  be  a  worthless  rake 
Giovanna  wished  to  be  the  actual  ruler  and  to  regard  Andrew 
as  being  merely  her  husband;  but  Andrew,  being  the  nearest 
male  heir,  claimed  the  right  to  rule  as  king.  In  1345  Andrew 
was  murdered,  and  rumor  accused  his  wife  of  being  an  accom- 
plice if  not  the  instigator.  Two  years  later  Andrew's  brother, 
Loub  of  Htit^gptry.  came  to  avenge  the  crime  and  assert  his  own 
ami  to  the  throne.  Many  Neapolitan  nobles  flocked  to  his 
banner,  and  a  desultory  warfare  lasted  until  1351  when  the 
affairs  of  his  kingdom  compelled  Louis  to  return  to  Hungary. 
Giovanna,  who  had  no  children,  retained  the  throne  for  thirty 
years  more.  When  the  schism  in  the  Papacy  hegain  in  1378  her 
nearest  male  heir,  Charles  of  Durazzo,  who  as  a  claimant  of  the 
Neapolitan  throne  asstmied  th^  title  of  Charles  III  (1382-86), 
supported  Urban  VI,  while  she  upheld  Qement  VII.  So  Gio- 
vanna sent  to  France  to  invite  Louis  of  Anjou  to  become  her 
heir.  The  offer  was  accepted.  This  creation  of  the  claim  of 
^  ;^  the  second  house  of  Anjou  to  Naples,  while  it  failed  to  effect 
'"  .^  f  the  disinheritance  of  Charles  of  Durazzo,  resulted  in  a  century 
f  '  of  intermittent  warfare  and  furnished  to  Charles  VIII  of  France 
f^'^  an  excuse  for  his  invasion  of  Italy. 
>  -^  c/r  It  was  in  the  midst  of  this  anarchy  that  there  came  the  ap- 
.  Pf  '  ^  parition  of  RienzL  whose  story,  briefly  touched  upon  in  the 
preceding  chapter,  is  one  of  the  most  romantic  in  an  age  of 
romance.  Rienzi,  bom  in  the  most  squalid  of  all  the  quarters  of 
Rome,  was  the  son  of  a  tavern-keeper  and  a  washer-woman. 
His  mother  died  when  he  was  still  an  infant,  and  he  was  sent 
to  a  relative  at  Anagni  where  he  acquired  a  fluent  command  of 
Latin,  read  widely  in  literature,  and  perhaps  became  imbued  with 


f  ■. 


0 


w^' 


POUTICAL  AFFAIRS  IN  THE  AGE  OF  RENAISSANCE     43 


Us  spedal  hatred  of  the  house  of  Colonna.    At  the  age  of   ^'^^^ 
twatty  he  returned  to  Rome,  then,  m  truth,  a  dty  of  desola-    isos-tt 
tioo.   The  Colonna  family  had  surrounded  with  a  palisade  the 
sectioQ  of  the  dty  they  claimed  as  thdr  own;  the  Orsini  had 
fortified  another  quarter  in  the  same  manner;  the  Savdli  were 
cntrendied  in  a  third  position;  and  the  Frangipani  held  the 
Colosseum.    The   Roman   populace,   some  thirty   thousand   in 
number,  led  the  most  precarious  existence  in  the  ruined  capital. 
Rienzi  brooded  over  the  desolation  of  Rome  and  dreamed  of 
raising  her  from  her  abject  prostration  and  of  reviving  her  free-      ,^ 
dom  and  her  glory.    His  fluent  and  impassioned  doquence  won    iix  * 
the  support  of  the  people;  and  on  M^y  ^o.  13^17.  he  yp^  aKli*   /{^c^v^ 
to  effect  a  bloodless  revolution.    He  promulgated  the  laws  of 
"the  Good  Estate,"  a  brief  and  excdlent  code,  the  administra- 
tioQ  of  which  brought  peace  to  the  tumultuous  dty.    Although 
invested  with  absolute  power  he  took  for  himself  the  title  of  \ 
"Tribune"  which  in  the  olden  days  had  been  associated  with 
the  cause  of  popular  freedom.    His  plan^  were  not  confined  to 
tbe  papal  State.    They  included  the  pacification,  and  unity  of 
an  Italy ;  and  for  a  time  in  that  crowded  and  dream-like  summer 
it  seemed  as  though  that  dearest  dream  was  soon  to  be  fulfilled. 
Bat  the  stmuner  drew  to  its  close,  and  the  autumn  opened  in 
strife  and  bloodshed.    The  swift  ascent  of  the  Liberator  turned 
his  brain;  his  pretensions,  despite  his  sincerity  and  his  disin- 
terestedness, became  not  only  vain  but  impious;  and  the  nobles 
recovered  from  thdr  consternation.    On  November  20  a  fierce 
conflict  took  place  in  which  a  dozen  of  the  leading  Roman 
nobles,  induding  several  of  the  house  of  Colonna,  were  slain. 
Rienzi  permitted  the  bodies  to  be  grossly  insulted,  inaugurated 
a  season  of  riotous  feasting,  and  failed  to  follow  up  the  victory 
with  vigorous  measures.    From  that  time  his  influence  declined. 
"Of  the  two  alternatives,"  said  old  Stefano  G)lonna,  the  ven- 
erable head  of  the  house,  "  it  is  assuredly  better  to  die  than  to 
st6mit  any  longer  to  the  tyranny  of  this  peasant";  and  he 
placed  himsdf  at  the  head  of  the  baronial  faction.    A  few  weeks 
later,  seven  months  after  his  accession  to  powp^^  T^imri  fl<vl  to 
Napies. 

Suddenly,  as  if  man  had  not  done  enough  to  devastate  Italy, 
the  crowding  calamities  of  the  country  were  increased  in  the 
spring  of  t^^  hv  ^  Y^^itation  of  the  plague,  conveyed  to  the 
peninsula  by  a  Genoese  ship  returning  from  the  East.  In  Siena 
e^lhty  thousand  pec^le,  three-quarters  of  the  population,  died; 
in  Pisa^  where  five  hundred  people  a  day  were  buried,  seven- 
tentfas  of  the  population  perished ;  and  the  pestilence  was  equally 


44  THE  RENAISSANCE 


<»H^y-g  virulent  and  fatal  at  Venice,  Florence,  Rome,  Naples,  and  other 
t806-77  parts  of  the  peninsula.  '*  We  go  out  of  doors/'  said  Petrarchy 
"walk  through  street  after  street  and  find  them  full  of  dead 
and  dying;  and  when  we  get  home  again  we  find  no  live  thing 
within  the  house,  all  having  perished  in  the  brief  interval  of  our 
absence."  The  morbo  nero  carried  off  one-third  of  the  entire 
Italian  population  and  added  to  the  anarchy  of  the  time. 

The  wanderings  of  Rienzi  during  the  years  of  his  exile  may 
be  quickly  passed  over.  In  1354  he  was  sent  by  Innocent  VI 
from  Avignon  to  Rome  to  aid  Cardinal  Albomoz  to  restore 
order  in  the  papal  State.  After  some  months  he  decided  to  act 
independently  of  the  warlike  legate,  and  on  the  first  day  of 
August  he  reentered  the  imperial  city  in  triumph.  But  Rienzi 
was  now  broken  in  body  and  unbalanced  in  mind.  In  October 
he  perished  in  a  tumult  of  the  populace,  and  confusion  reigned 
agam.  mere  are  two  reasons  tor  the  sudden  fall  of  RienzL 
The  degraded  Roman  populace  were  quite  unfitted  for  democracy, 
and  Rienzi  lacked  every  one  of  thc^  stem  qualities  demanded  by 
a  time  so  disordered. 

It  was  a  double  and  a  difficult  task  that  had  been  given  to 
Cardinal  ^Ihnmnz,  He  had  to  resist  the  inroads  of  secular 
rulers  upon  papal  territory  and  to  restore  to  order  and  obedience 
the  unruly  population  of  the  State.  But  so  successful  was  the 
indefatigable  Spaniard,  alike  in  war  and  in  diplomacy,  that  he 
succeeded  in  depriving  the  princes  of  most  of  their  usurped 
possessions,  of  recovering  practically  complete  the  temporalities 
of  the  Church  —  though  he  failed  to  subdue  Perugia  —  and  in 
restoring  something  like  order  within  the  papal  State.  The  war- 
rior-cardinal, however,  died  in  136;^  and  the  old  lawlessness 
soon  returned. 
The  third  stage  in  the  melancholy  story  of  the  break-up  of 

ttaij  tn      Italy  is  the  recounting  of  the  most  important  events  that  oc- 

^BcSiiin    cu^^  during  the  papal  schism  and  the  time  of  the  councils. 

ujdoma^  The  history  of  the  schism,  and  of  the  councils  that  attempted 
to  end  it,  has  already  been  given.  So  we  are  free  tatum  our 
attention  to  the  first  of  the  important  events,  the  3tDlggkJbfic 
tween  Yg-iiy^  ynr^  ^BP^  for  maritime  supremacy,  that  trans- 
pired inllaly  while  they  were  in  progress.  There  were  at  first 
three  Italian  competitors  for  the  trade  of  the  East  —  Venice, 
Pisa,  and  Genoa.  But  the  maritime  power  of  the  Pisans  re- 
ceived a  blow  in  the  battle  of  Meloria  from  which  it  never 
V  recovered.  Then  began  a  long  and  sanguinary  struggle  between 
the  victor  and  Venice,  in  which  the  strength  of  the  two  great 
.  maritime  republics  was  wasted,  while  the  constant  encroach- 


iUi 


POUTICAL  AFFAIRS  IN  THE  AGE  OF  RENAISSANCE     45 

iiiaits  of  tbc  Turks  became  a  peril  ever  more  urgent  to  the  West,   ^'Hi^n 
and  wUdi  ended  in  i^to  iffith  thct  inrtr^^'^fe^  Ai^f^r,^  ^f  fU^  i878-i4io 
Genoese  at  rhjQggia-    Thus  Venice,  left  comparatively   free 
from  Iier  rmls  in  commerce,  S^famr  ^^^'g^"*"*^  nf  thff  ^^^^<^^^ 
rancan  sea. 

We  have  seen  something  of  the  rise  of  Milan  into  industrial  * 
and  political  importance.  It  lost  its  independence  in  1295  ^^^ 
came  under  the  dominion  of  the  Visconti  family,  the  greatest 
of  whom  was  Gian  Galeazzo,  in  wnose  subtle  mind  there  was 
born  again  the  dream  of  a  kingdom  that  should  embrace  all 
Italj. 

No  sooner  had  Vgnire  made  herself  mistress  of  the  great  in- 
land sea  than  she  aspired  to  conquest  on  the  mainland.  Great 
Slates  were  springing  up  all  about  her,  and  she  deemed  her 
dominion  of  the  lagoons  to  be  no  longer  secure.  So  she  en- 
tered upon  a  new  stage  of  her  history,  acquired  a  territory  that 
crtended,  roughly  speaking,  fp^*^  ^^^  A^pg  »^  *^^  t^^  and  from 
Tnest  to  ttie  lake  of  Como,  became  inyolyed  in  the  intrigues  of 
Italian  politics  and  by  iier  success  excited  the  jealousy  and  the 
fear  of  rivals  who  later  on  were  to  combine  and  cripple  her. 

Florence,  as  we  have  seen,  rose  from  comparative  obscurity 
i^  be  the  most  important  republic  in  Italy.    It  found  prosperity 
m  fte  pursuit  of  tl^g  wool  and  silk  trade.     But,  like  every  other 
comnmne,  it  became  divided  by  the  rancorous  strife  of  its  vari- 
ous factions.    A  plutocratic  aristocracy  of  merchants,  bankers, 
and  manufacturers  gradually  arose,  of  which,  amid  tumult  and 
coospiracies,    banishments   and    proscriptions,    first   one    party 
gained  the  upper  hand  and  then  another.    The  wars  of  conquest 
in  which  the  republic  engaged  and  which  made  her  the  greatest 
power  in  Tuscany,  necessitated  heavy  taxation;  and  when,  in_ 
1437,  the  people  clamored  for  a  more  e^^uitable  system  fff  ^V^' 
ingttie  sums  needed  to  meet  the  expenses  of  the  State.  Giovanni 
^'  Medici,  the  richest  banker  m  ItajY,  openly  sided  with  them. 
Giovanni  had  long  lurked  behind  the  people  and  did  not  fail  to 
seize  the  opportunity  to  put  himself  at  their  head.    ThusJtbf 
Medici  rose  above  the  level  of  their  ffi^^w-filtiz^"^  and  began 
their  remarkable  history.    No  other  fanyly  has  so  influenced  the 
dertinies  of  ^humanity.    Slowly^  they  absorbed  the  governmental 
power  by  thJSff'cunnmg  and  traditional  policy  of  identifying 
themsdves  with  the  popular  interest.    Giovanni  died  in  1429. 
Cosimo  (1589-1464]^  his  son,  more  daring' arid"  Tess  cautious 
ttan  his  father,  engaged  in  an  open  effort  to  secure  ascendancy. 
But  his  rival,  Rinaldo  degli  Albizzi,  was  too  powerful  to  be 
overthrown  at  <Hice,  and  the  attempt  resulted  in  Cosimo's  exile. 


46  THE  RENAISSANCE 


^^^^^•°  Hardly  a  year  passed,  however,  when  at  an  election  in  Florence 
U78-1460  the  tide  turned,  Rinaldo  was  banished  and  Cosimo  reentered  the 
city  triumphant,  to  be  thereafter  its  virtual  ruler.  Consum- 
^^  mate  financier  that  he  was,  he  was  also  an  extraordinarily  clever 
diplomat  and  politician.  The  outward  show  of  a  republican 
form  of  government  he  kept,  but  littie  by  little  he  gathered  more 
power  to  himself  until  he  became  as  truly  a  despot  as  was  to 
be  fotmd  in  Italy.  The  Medici  continued  their  regular  pursuits 
of  trade  after  acquiring  the  attributes  of  sovereignty;  and  in 
finance,  the  patronage  of  art,  domestic  government,  war,  and 
diplomacy,  they  displayed  an  insight,  a  grasp,  a  varied  capacity, 
and  an  enterprising  spirit  that  was  unexcdled.  Piero  (1419- 
69)  succeeded  his  father  in  1464,  but,  weak  in  health,  he  was 
^  ^1^ »/  not  able  to  keep  so  firm  a  grasp  upon  the  city.  Lorenzo  (1449* 
^^^  "  92)  became  the  ruling  spirit  even  before  Piero  died  and  with 
inflexible  will  he  continued  in  the  path  that  led  to  an  absolute 
pers(»ial  despotism.  **  Maravigliosamente*'  is  the  word  chosen 
by  Machiavelli  to  describe  Ld^SBSP*  ^^^  ^^  characterization  is 
most  apt.  The  chains  with  which  he  bound  Florence  were  golden 
chains.  Nowhere  else  was  there  to  be  seen  such  splendid  pa- 
geantry, such  frequent  festivities;  and  the  licentious  abandon- 
ment of  the  carnival  time  was  complete.  So  were  the  Floren* 
tines  beguiled ;  and  so  was  the  sober  spirit  of  their  earlier  days 
transformed  into  the  most  pronounced  paganism.  But  relent- 
less and  cruel  as  was  Lorenzo's  determination  to  make  himself 
supreme,  he  was  yet  a  genuine  as  well  as  a  generous  patron  of 
art;  and  about  himself  he  gathered  the  greatest  painters  and 
poets  and  philosophers  of  the  age. 

The  dynastic  struggle  still  dragged  out  its  weary  length  in 
Naples.  When  Giovanna  I,  because  of  their  difference  regard^ 
ing  the  papal  schism,  passed  over  Charles  III  of  Durazzo  and 
made  Louis  I  of  the  second  house  of  Anjou  her  successor,  war 
broke  out  again.  But  Charles  III,  his  son  Ladislas,  and  his 
daughter  Giovanna  II,  who  belonged  to  the  first  house  of  Anjou, 
succeeded,  each  in  their  turn,  in  keeping  the  throne  until  the 
death  of  Giovanna  in  1435.  This  second  Giovanna,  like  the 
^^  first  one,  was  also  childless.  She  chose  as  her  successor  Al- 
t  fonso  of  Aragon  and  Sicily,  until  whose  death  in  1458  Naples 
and  Sicily  were  retmited.  But  the  second  house  of  Anjou  did 
^  not  abandon  its  claims.  The  Neapolitan  nobles  were  divided  in 
their  allegiance  to  the  Aragon  and  Angevin  houses  and  so  a  pro- 
longed war  distracted  the  unhappy  country,  until  in  1442  Rene 
le  Bon  of  Anjou  abandoned  the  struggle.  Alfonso  who  was 
King  of  Sardinia  as  well  as  of  Aragon,  Sicily,  and  Naples,  was 


POLITICAL  AFFAIRS  IN  THE  AGE  OF  RENAISSANCE     47 

itjfled  by  tbe  humanists  **  The  Magnanimous."  His  court  was  ^"^^^ 
fiOed  widi  scholars,  and  there  men  who  were  persecuted  in  U6e-i«a9 
other  pbccs  for  their  opinions  found  an  asyltun. 

Dmii^  an  this  time  that  Italy  was  torn  with  conflict  the  ^ 
TnrlB  were  ai^roaching  ever  nearer.  In  1457  they  gained 
Athens,  and  five  years  later  the  Morea  was  in  their  possession. 
Tints  had  they  come  into  distinct  contact  with  Venice,  who  had 
expended  so  much  of  her  strength  in  crushing  Genoa  and  secur- 
ing for  herself  a  dominion  on  the  mainland.  Here  we  pause 
for  a  time  in  the  tmhappy  narrative  of  the  disruption  of  the 
pauDsnla.  Italy,  it  has  been  well  said,  was  not  a  nation  but 
BKrdy  a  geographical  expression.  ^^ ■'■"  " 

The  career  of  the  most  westerly  of  the  Mediterranean  penin- 
sofas,  the  dmmide  of  the  up-building  of  Spain,  is  altogether  a 
different  story.  When,  in  1266,  the  Moors  were  driven  beyond 
die  mountains  and  shut  up  in  Granada  the  long  warfare  of  Chris-  na 
tian  against  Moslem  paused  for  nearly  two  hundred  and  fifty  JJ^fSf 
years.  The  effect  of  the  united  and  protracted  struggle  to  expel 
die  infidel,  which  had  been  carried  on  at  intervals  for  seven  hun- 
dred years,  had  been  to  weaken  the  provincial  jealousies,  which 
in  die  Italian  peninsula  had  been  growing  ever  more  intense, 
tnd  to  infuse  into  the  Spanish  peoples  something  of  the  senti- 
ment of  nationality.  With  such  a  foundation  it  did  not  take 
long  to  wdd  the  Spanish  States  into  a  strong  modem  power. 
At  die  opening  of  the  Renaissance  era  there  were  four  of  these 
States — Navarre,  Aragon,  Castile,  and  Portugal.  Navarre  was 
made  up  of  territory  on  both  sides  of  the  Pyrenees.  Aragon  had 
been  formed  by  the  union  of  the  three  provinces  of  Aragon, 
Catakmia,  and  Valencia ;  and  later  it  gained  Sicily,  the  Balearic 
Isles,  and  Sardinia,  and,  for  a  time,  Naples.  Castile,  when  it 
was  united  with  Leon,  became  the  largest  of  the  Spanish  States. 
Portugal  was  at  first  a  comparatively  unimportant  State.  In 
IIJ9  its  count,  Alfonso  I,  assumed  the  title  of  king;  and  Denis 
the  Laborer  (1279-1325)  succeeded  in  consolidating  the  king- 
dom. The  work  of  uniting  Aragon,  Castile,  and  the  Spanish 
part  of  Navarre  into  one  country,  Spain,  was  accomplished  by 
the  house  of  Trastamara.  Alfonso  XI  of  Castile  (1312-50) 
was  succeeded  by  his  son  Peter  the  Cruel  (1350-69).  But  Al- 
fonso left  a  number  of  Ol^timate  children,  the  eldest  of  whom, 
Heniy  II  of  Trastamara  (1369-79),  killed  Peter  and  placed  him- 
sdf  upon  the  throne  of  Castile.  He  was  succeeded  in  turn  by 
four  male  descendants  and  then  by  the  famous  Isabella  (1474* 
1504).  The  succession  to  the  throne  of  Aragon  came  into  dis- 
pute.   The  Cortes  offered  the  crown  to  Ferdinand  I  (1412-16), 


48  THE  RENAISSANCE 


OBAP.n  a  prince  of  the  reigning  house  of  Castile,  who  accepted.  So  the 
I86e*i469  family  of  Trastamara,  despite  its  illegitimate  origin,  became  the 
royal  family  of  both  Aragon  and  Castile.  In  due  time  Ferdinand 
was  succeeded  by  two  of  his  sons,  and  then  by  his  grandson, 
Ferdinand  II  ( 1479-15 16)  the  Catholic.  In  1469  Isabella  and 
Ferdinand  were  married,  and  thus  the  two  branches  of  the  house 
of  Trastamara  were  united.  The  two  kingdoms,  however,  sir 
though  directed  by  the  same  policy,  remained  distinct  until  after 
the  death  of  Isabella.  In  1513  Ferdinand  conquered  all  of 
Navarre  south  of  the  Pyrenees  and  added  it  to  the  kingdom 
of  Spain. 

Having  made  an  attempt  to  study  the  history  of  the  Papaqr 
throughout  the  period  that  intervened  between  the  end  of  the 
Middle  Ages  and  the  opening  of  the  era  of  the  Protestant  Revo- 
lution—  more  definitely  from  the  accession  of  Boniface  VIII 
in  1294  to  the  close  of  the  Council  of  Basel  in  1449  —  and  hav- 
ing glanced  at  the  political  conditions  of  Germany,  France,  Italy, 
and  Spain  during  the  same  period,  we  are  now  ready  to  turn 
our  attention  to  that  effort  to  recover  the  intellectual  and  artistic 
inheritance  of  Greece  and  Rome,  to  develop  that  inheritance  and 
to  utilize  it  in  all  the  channels  and  aspects  of  life,  that  consti- 
tutes the  Renaissance.  It  seems  advisable  to  insist,  at  the  out- 
set, upon  the  fact  that  the  development  of  the  classical  in- 
heritance was  of  much  greater  importance  in  ushering  in  the 
modem  world  than  was  the  recovery  of  the  actual  inheritance 
itself.  It  would  be  fatal  to  think  that  the  Renaissance  consisted 
exclusively  of  the  attempt  to  recover  the  classical  literature  and 
the  classical  art ;  or,  indeed,  to  deem  that  attempt  to  be  its  most 
important  constituent.  The  effort  to  resuscitate  the  remains  of 
the  antique  thought  and  art  was  indispensable,  it  is  true.  At 
least  the  modern  era  would  have  been  greatly  delayed  without 
its  aid.  The  spirit  of  the  Middle  Ages  was  one  of  intellectual 
constraint,  while  that  of  Hellenism  had  been  one  of  intellectual 
freedom.  The  passage  from  the  one  to  the  other  was  like  the 
passage  from  a  prison  to  fields  that  stretched  unbounded  to  the 
blue  sky.  But  the  inheritance  of  the  past  was  merely  a  point 
of  departure.  Far  from  being  no  more  than  a  renewal  of  an- 
tiquity, the  Renaissance  was  a  new  life,  indigenous,  autocthonous, 
such  as  the  world  had  never  before  witnessed.  The  mere  revival 
of  Greek  and  Latin  letters  soon  developed  into  a  pedantic  clas- 
sicism that,  with  its  back  turned  to  the  future,  looked  only  to 
the  past.  It  would  be  wrong  to  think  that  these  philolog^ans, 
who  disdained  the  work  of  helping  to  create  the  national  lan- 
guages and  literatures,  preferring  instead  slavishly  to  copy  the 


POLITICAL  AFFAIRS  IN  THE  AGE  OF  RENAISSANCE     49 

fonns  of  tongues  that  were  dead,  were  the  most  potent  figures  ^'H^n 
of  the  period.  It  was  not  they  who  made  the  Renaissance ;  but  ism-u^b 
rather  was  it  those  Italians,  and,  later,  those  men  of  other  coun- 
tries, who,  in  spite  of  their  ardent  admiration  of  the  ancients, 
gave  expression  to  their  own  personalities,  voiced  the  national 
sentonent  of  their  own  countries,  found  utterance  for  the  spirit 
of  their  own  time,  who  looked  keenly  and  lovingly  into  the 
world  about  them  and  scanned  with  eager  eyes  the  far  horizon 
of  the  future.  It  is  the  various  "  revivals,"  each  of  which  was 
more  of  an  inauguration  than  a  revival,  which  these  men  imbued 
with  the  deepening  spirit  of  modernity  e£Fected  that  constitute 
4c  true  Renaissance.  One  other  word  of  warning  may  be  per- 
mitted. Politics  and  wars  had  even  less  than  the  revival  of  let- 
ters to  do  with  the  Renaissance.  That  is  why  they  have  beea 
idcgated  to  the  background. 


CHAPTER  ra 


ORAP.Zn 


1276-1600 


Vatton- 
•ttkj 


THE  REVIVAL  OF  THE  NATION 

1.  Nationality. 

2.  How  it  had  been  lost 

3.  How  it  came  back. 

4.  Where  it  came  back. 

5.  Where  it  lagged  and  why. 
d  The  Value  of  Nationality. 

IN  dealing  with  the  revival  of  the  nation  it  is  necessary,  firsl 
of  all,  to  arrive  at  the  meaning  of  the  terms  **  nation  **  and 
"  nationality."  In  doing  this  it  is  perhaps  well  to  come  to  an 
understanding  of  the  meaning  of  some  words  that  are  not 
synonymous  with  them,  but  which  are  sometimes  considered  to 
be  so.  First,  there  is  the  word  "  State,"  which  means  the  en- 
tire political  community,  all  its  ordinary  citizens.  It  should  not 
be  confused  with  the  term  ''  nation."  Austria-Hungary  is  a  sin- 
gle State;  but  its  multifarious  peoples  with  their  diverse  inter- 
ests and  mutual  antagonisms  by  no  means  constitute  a  single 
nation.  Magyars  and  Slavs  and  Germans  remain  as  distinct 
under  the  crown  of  St.  Stephen  as  they  were  eight  hundred 
years  ago.  The  term  *'  government "  is  likewise  not  equivalent 
to  that  of  **  nation."  It  is  used  to  designate  the  person  or  the 
persons  in  whose  hands  rests  the  function  of  political  control; 
and  it  also  includes  the  body  of  electors.  Beneath  a  single  gov- 
ernment there  are  oftentimes  distinct  elements  that,  like  oil  and 
water,  refuse  to  unite.  The  term  "  society "  is  applied  to  all 
human  conununities  no  matter  how  loose  their  organization  may 
be,  and  r^^ardless  of  whether  nationality  has  been  achieved.  A 
nation  is  none  of  these  things.  It  is  a  body  of  people  united  by 
common  ideals  and  a  conmion  purpose.  It  is  the  **  unity  of  a 
people." 

What  is  iy^then,  that  gives  a  people  unity,  that  makes  of  them 
a  nation?  I4s  it  race?  Race  is  oftentimes  an  important  factor 
in  forming  a  nation,  but  by  itself  it  cannot  create  a  nation.  If 
racial  unity  were  the  essential  factor  there  would  be  no  nations 
to-day,  for  there  is  not  a  single  pure  race  in  Europe.  Every 
modem  nation  has  mixed  blood.  The  Spanish  are  one  of  the 
most  homogeneous  of  peoples,  and  yet  they  are  the  product  of 
mixed  blood.    It  is  true  that  race  is  the  most  poptdar  of  the 


THE  REVIVAL  OF  THE  NATION  51 

rnle-of-thumb  solutions  for  the  question  of  nationality,  but  so  OHAP.m 
T^p>rous  a  nation  as  the  English  includes  prehistoric  Briton,  urs-itoo 
Celtic  Briton,  Roman,  Saxon,  Angle,  Dane,  Norman,  Fleming, 
amtt  Huguenot. 

^Does  language  make  a  nation?  It,  too,  can  help  to  make  one; 
bat  it,  too,  by  itself  is  powerless  to  create  one.  It  would  seem 
to  be  the  most  obvious  mark  of  nationality,  and  at  times  it  has 
been  held  to  be  an  indispensable  condition.  The  difficulty  of 
uniting  populations  speaking  different  languages  has  appeared  to 
be  insuperable.  But  the  Irish  despite  the  fact  that  they  speak 
the  same  language  are  not  united  to  the  English  by  national  feel- 
ing. And  Switzerland's  three  languages  have  not  prevented  her 
from  becoming  one  of  the  most  unified  of  nations  with  a  popular 
and  parliamentary  government  carried  on  by  oral  and  printed 
disaisdon.  Similarity  of  language  invites  the  unity  of  a  peo- 
ple, but  does  not  compel  it. 

Nor  does  religion  determine  nationality.  It  is  true  that  re- 
figioD  had  much  to  do  with  the  formation  of  the  Spanish  nation. 
The  Perpetual  Crusade  against  the  infidel  in  the  Spanish  penin- 
sula did  much  to  weld  the  Qiristians  into  a  nation.  But  that 
was  an  exceptional  case.  There  is  not  a  single  nation  to-day 
tbat  has  religious  unity.  For  some  time  religion  has  been  in 
the  process  of  becoming  a  personal  matter,  a  matter  of  the  in- 
(firidual  conscience.  It  no  longer  has  any  influence  in  the  de- 
tenmnation  of  political  boundaries.  If  a  common  religion  were 
an  mdispensable  condition  the  leading  nations  of  the  world  to- 
dajr  would  not  exist. 

v/Gcographical  unity  may  help  to  make  a  nation,  but  it  is  by  no 
means  the  controlling  factor.    It  has  been  well  said  that  the 
Emit?  of  a  nation  are  not  written  on  a  map.    It  is  violence  at 
times  and  at  other  times  the  wisdom  of  concession,  and  not 
natiooality,  that  have  as  a  rule  determined  political  boundaries. 
Switzerland  is  altogether  lacking  in  geographical  unity,  and  yet 
for  centuries  she  has  had  pronounced  nationality ;  while  on  the 
other  hand  Italy  with  her  striking  and  unusual  geographical 
unity  was  able  to  achieve  national  unity  only  in  the  nineteenth 
century  and  then  only  because  of  other  things.    Political  boun- 
daries are  shifting  and  comparatively  unimportant.    What  is 
the  width  of  the  sea,  the  height  of  the  mountains,  or   the 
breadth  of  a  river,  that  amounts  to  political  severance? 

Similarity  of  physical  environment  cannot  in  itself  make  a 
nation.  It  is  written  that  ''we  are  what  sun  and  wind  and 
waters  make  us."  Of  course  even  inert  environment  counts. 
It  has  its  effect  upon  man.    It  helps  to  condition  his  life.    But 


52  THE  RENAISSANCE 


7^ 


P^^^^-°^  man  is  not  under  the  complete  control  of  his  environment  H^ 
UI75-1600  IS  able  to  modify  and  to  change  it.  One  must  take  into  coosut 
eration  the  seed  as  well  as  tihe  soil.  It  is  the  seed  that  tdh^ 
more  than  the  soil.  The  innate  potency  of  men  is  responsible  for 
national  feeling  far  more  than  their  physical  surroundings.  Sixih 
ilarity  of  environment  may  contribute  toward  nationality,  bot 
it  cannot  of  itself  produce  it. 

Nationality,  the  unity  of  a  people,  is  not  produced  exclusive^ 
by  race,  or  language,  or  religion,  or  geog^phical  unity,  or  sim- 
ilarity  of  environment;  nor  does  it  come  as  the  result  of  any 
number  of  these  things,  nor  of  all  of  them  combined.  .Two 
diingsprofjiic^  a  P^^^'^n^^a  rich  inheritance  of  memoi 
tlie  desire^o  preserve  thQ-'^g]["^'»Q"^s:  'finnstiSh  is  a  spiritual 
unity  that  has  been  brought^mtu  exi&tCTce  by  complex  historkal 
conditions,  by  similar  traditions  and  a  similar  imagination.  A 
nation,  like  an  individual,  is  the  product  of  experience,  oi 
achievement  and  of  failures.  Common  triumphs  to  rejoice  in: 
common  sacrifices  to  remember.  Common  sorrows  are  espe 
cially  the  basis  of  nationality.  Grief  and  sacrifices  are  a  men 
potent  element  in  the  creation  of  nationality  than  are  the  com- 
mon joys.  When  a  people  begins  to  look  back  upon  a  love<! 
hero  or  heroine,  upon  those  who  have  been  brave  and  true,  upoi 
a  Cid,  a  Richard  Lionheart,  a  St.  Louis,  a  St.  Francis,  or  a 
Jeanne  d'Arc,  or  when  it  begins  to  look  back  upon  a  commor 
foe,  upon  the  Northmen,  the  Mohammedans,  upon  England,  thi 
Empire,  or  the  Papacy,  then  it  begins  to  be  conscious  of  a  unit) 
that  not  all  the  other  contributory  forces  could  have  produced 
Men  are  not  bound  together  or  kept  apart  by  external  and  inci- 
dental things.  They  are  not  united  or  disunited  by  racial,  oi 
linguistic,  or  religious,  or  geographical  conditions.  Ireland  has 
been  united  to  England  for  centuries  by  linguistic  ties.  She  has 
largely  lost  her  own  language.  Yet  she  cherishes  memories  thai 
keep  alive  the  sense  of  Irish  nationality.  For  a  long  time  Poland 
has  been  dismembered;  Russia  has  taken  one  part,  Austria  a 
second,  and  Germany  a  third.  Yet  the  Poles  keep  in  their  hearts 
the  memories  of  the  past,  and  so  the  Polish  nation  lives  to-day^ 
though  one  shall  look  in  vain  upon  the  map  for  the  country  oi 
Poland.  It  is  the  influence  of  common  experience,  penetrated  bj 
poetry  and  by  passion,  that  is  fundamental  in  the  creation  of  a 
nation.  The  national  bond  is  not  necessarily  dependent  upor 
similarity  of  race,  or  soil,  or  religion,  or  language.  It  is  want- 
ing between  the  Spaniards  and  the  Portuguese  who  are  so  nearl> 
allied  in  all  these  respects.  It  is  present  among  the  Swiss  wher« 
nearly  all  these  things  are  absent.    Like  an  individual,  a  natior 


THE  REVIVAL  OF  THE  NATION  53 


is  the  rcariLi^L^  tong  past  of  triumph^gd  of  sarrifice,  ^dcYO-  ^^^^ 
♦fffi  ?"^  of  riff^^  w^t-^r>o  fiT%^  c>a/^t4S^;n  (he  cause  of  a  be-  isro-isof' 
loved  ideal  seal  the  soul  to  the  object  of  its  devotion.  To  toil 
and  to  suffer  for  the  common  welfare  and  for  the  fruition  of 
the  common  hopes,  to  win  life  eternally  through  losing  it,  is 
the  sure  road  to  that  high  unity  of  a  people  that  we  call  nation- 
ality. And  there  is  in  all  the  world  no  confirmation  of  a  faith 
like  that  of  abuse,  conttunely,  and  defeat  endured  in  its  service. 

Nationality   had  been  lost  among  the   Romans.    OrigihaIIy~  •       *— 
there  was  a  single  state  unified  by  the  common  experiences  and  bow  v** 
aspirations  of  its  people.    By  the  process  of  absorption  and  con-  ^^^ 
quest  this  was  gradually  changed.    In  the  place  of  Roman  na-  !«•» 
tiooality  there  came  the  conception  of  a  world-wide  State.    And 
tUs  State  was  conceived  merely  as  a  jural  society,  bound  to- 
gether only  by  its  common  laws  and  the  power  to  enforce  them. 
Sudi  a  conception  is  obviously  too  narrow  and  imperfect    Such 
a  bond  is  based  neither  upon  reverence  for  the  past  nor  upon 
hope  for  the  future.    It  is  powerless  to  spread  the  contagion 
of  sacrifice  for  the  sake  of  the  future.    And  yet  this  is  the  chief 
Aing  that  conserves  the  life  of  nations.    When  Roman  life 
came  to  be  conceived  of  as  consisting  only  of  relations  estab- 
lished and  defined  by  the  Roman  Law,  all  that  was  vital,  and 
oobie,  and  inspiring,  disappeared.    When  this  was  the  only  bond 
tbat  united  Romans,  the  Empire  itself  was  doomed. 

Nationality  was  dormant  throughout  the  Middle  Ages.  Before 
the  Teutonic  peoples  invaded  the  Roman  Empire  they  lived  un- 
der a  crude  form  of  tribal  unity.  They  were  united  to  each 
other  by  personal  allegiance  to  their  leaders.  The  various  tribes 
combined  with  each  other  and  fusion  with  the  Roman  popula- 
tion was  gradually  effected.  Homogeneous  peoples  with  com- 
mon traditions  and  common  aims,  like  the  Franks,  began  to 
J^jpear.  But  the  Church  gave  to  Charles  the  Great  the  title  of 
"Emperor,"  and  thus  the  national  feeling  of  the  various  Teu- 
tonic peoples  was  side-tracked.  It  is  true  that  the  Empire  after 
Charles  was  only  a  shadowy  institution,  but  "the  idea  of  the 
world-State  continued  to  fascinate  men's  minds  long  after  it  had 
lost  material  existence."  One  looks  in  vain  for  any  vital  mani- 
festation of  nationality  in  medieval  institutions.  Civil  law  and 
canon  law  alike  were  international,  and  feudal  law  and  custom 
were  locaL  In  the  Middle  Ages  the  wars  were  not  an  outcome 
of  national  feeling.  It  was  not  for  national  purposes  that  the 
crusades  were  fought  The  long-continued  struggle  between 
ftc  Empire  and  the  Papacy  was  one  for  world-wide  supremacy. 
The  innumerable  petty  strifes  of  feudalism  were  the  very  denial 


•  - 


54  THE  RENAISSANCE 


m^'Ta  of  nationality.    It  is  not  until  the  Hundred  Years*  War  tiat 
1276*1600   national  feeling  is  visibly  present.    Eveq  relip^OT  wati  nrnnrrf 
against  nationality  for  it  was  universal  and  inter^natkmaL    ll 
the~Middl6  A^es  the  European  countries  were  nothing  but  vait 
feudal  nebuke.^ 
Only  very  gradually  was  the  sense  of  nationality  restored. 
BOW  Ha-      It  was  a  silent  transition  due  to  many  influences  slowly  inter- 
tatMk  fused.    One  thing  that  caused  the  universalism  of  the  Papaqr 
and  the  Empire  to  dissolve  and  the  merely  local  feeling  of  feudat* 
■^ism  to  give  way  to  nationality  was  the  fusion  of  the  races.    ICcn 
of  Wessex  and  men  of  Northumbria  disappeared.    The  Eqg* 
lishman  came  in  their  stead.    Norman  and  Gascon  were  mei^gel 
into  the  Frenchman,  and  Catalonians  and  Castilians  were  re- 
placed by  Spaniards. 
v^     The  growth  of  the  royal  power  was  another  factor  in  tiie  re* 
I    vjyjinif- n^tinnalTiy    as  the  power  and  authority  of  the  Idqg 
grew,  the  imperial  idea  became  fainter  and  fainter,  the  secular 
claims  of  the  Papacy  were  successfully  disputed,  and  the  dis- 
integrating forces  of  feudalism  were  crushed.    The  king  was  a 
symbol  of  national  unity,  and  in  him  were  centered  the  national 
aspirations.    The  increase  of  kingly  power  was  a  concrete  and 
effective  force  in  the  gradual  consolidation  of  the  heterogeneous 
feudal  nebulae  into  compact  and  homogeneous  countries. 
^    Another  force  that  made  for  t^^  r#>Qiicrifafinn  nf  pa^|Qp^^ji^J 
was  the  nse  of  the  vefnaciiTaf  1<»^«-a»iirA<^     In  the  Mid(Ue  Ages 
all  Latin  Christendom  was  bound  together  by  the  Latin  language. 
It  was  the  language  of  the  Church,  of  the  secular  as  well  as  the 
ecclesiastical  law  courts,  and  of  all  educated  men.    A  district 
in  a  city  in  which  a  university  was  situated  was  called  the  Latin 
Quarter  because  there  Latin  was  not  only  written  but  spoken. 
The  vernacular  tongues  were  spoken,  but  they  were  regarded  as 
dialects  are  to-day.    They  were  not  organized.    They  had  no 
grammars  and  no  literatures.    But  gradually,  and  almost  simul- 
taneously, in  France,  in  Italy,  in  Spain,  and  in  England,  the 
vernacular  tongues  acquired  a  greater  dignity,  and  national  lit- 
eratures arose.    These  vernacular  literatures  displaced  the  idiom 
of  the  Church  and  became  both  an  expression  and  a  guarantee 
of  national  feeling. 
N^  The  advent  of  the  Third  Estate  was  still  another  force  in 
the  revival  of  the  nation.    The  peasants  did  not  gain  representa- 
tion and  a  voice  in  the  national  councils.    That  still  lay  far  in 
the  future.    But  the  townspeople,  the  bourgeoisie,  succeeded  in 
gaining   recognition    in    the   national   assemblies.    The    middle 
classes  were  far  more  national  in  their  feeling  than  were  the 


I 


THE  REVIVAL  OF  THE  NATION  55 

{eudal  nobility,  and  more  so,  too,  than  the  clergy.    Retrospec-  OHAP.m 

tion  did  not  lead  them  to  regret  a  time  of  feudal  independence.   ia76-i6M 

It  was  only  with  the  growing  power  of  the  nation  that  they  had 

won  their  emancipation  from  the  thraldom  of  feudalism.    Only 

as  the  nation  grew  in  power  could  they  hope  to  compete  in 

social  matters  with  the  feudal  aristocracy;  only  as  the  nation 

giw  in  strength  could  feudal  warfare  be  made  to  give  way  to 

the  king's  peace,  and  peace  was  necessary  for  the  commerce  and 

industr)'  of  the  towns.    Nationality  affected  the  interests,  touched 

the  hearts,  and  fired  the  imagination  of  the  townsfolk.     More 

important  in  the  history  of  the  Middle  Ages  than  the  struggle 

between  the  empire  and  the  Papacy,  was  the  struggle  between 

the  secular  and  the  spiritual  power.    And  this  in  its  last  analysis 

iK'as  nothing  less  than  a  struggle  between  the  natural  instinct 

of  nationality  and  the  universal  authority  of  the  Church.    With 

the  growth  of  the  towns  and  the  consequent  increase  of  secular 

culture,  the  sense  of  nationality  received  a  great  impetus.    In 

general  it  may  be  said  that  at  the  end  of  the  thirteenth  century 

the  medieval  ideal  of  universality  began  to  give  way  before  the 

rising  tide  of  national  spirit.  ^ 

Nationality  came  back  in  France.  In  the  days  of  Hugh  Capet, 
France  had  been  the  name  of  only  a  single  duchy.  It  was  merely 
one  of  a  number  of  feudal  lordships,  and  it  was  by  no  means 
the  most  powerful  of  them.  But  step  by  step  thejCajpetian  kings  wheraVa. 
W  svil>diipH  thf*  fi*ndal  nobler  and  built  up  a  compact  nation.  ^^!J^ 
Uiey  encouraged  the  towns  and  made  them  valuable  supports  of 
the  kingly  power  and  they  assumed  direct  lordship  over  the 
peasants.  And  so^^as  we  have  seen,  in  the  struggle  with  Boni- 
facc_VlII  4he  French  kings  could  appeal  successfully  to  a  sense 
of  nationality.  Papal  excommunication  was  pronounced  in  vain. 
But  more  than  all  else  it  was  the  Hundred  Years*  War  that 
kindled  Fr^nrtTTiaGohaiity.  Jeanne  d'Arc  is  the  godmother  of 
the  French  nafion."^  Around  her  name  there  clustered  the  mem- 
ories of  the  misery  and  the  humiliation  of  the  long  and  cruel 
war  which  the  French  people  had  suffered  in  common.  Their 
common  memories  of  the  past  gave  them  a  common  aspiration 
in  the  present.  The  peasant  maid  of  Domremy  became  the 
patron  saint  of  their  patriotism. 

England  also  witnessed  a  revival  of  nationality.  The  geo- 
graphical conditions  were  particularly  favorable.  Feudalism  had 
never  been  so  rampant  as  on  the  continent,  and  England  had 
ne\'er  been  affected  greatly  by  the  idea  of  the  medieval  empire. 
But  the  popes  had  disposed  of  English  benefices  in  the  most 
s^rbitrary  way ;  and  its  kings  had  been  men  of  foreign  blood  who 


56 


THE  RENAISSANCE 


M7»>1600 


.) 


r 


asAP.xn  had  introduced  alien  elements  into  the  land  Edward  I,  wfaoM 
long  reign  began  in  1272,  was  unmistakably  English.  He  gavi 
preference  to  Englishmen  and  to  English  customs.  Parliamen) 
was  made  more  widely  representative  by  the  introduction  of  tb 
middle  classes,  and  the  laws  were  developed  and  codified  Tb 
papal  pretensions  were  resisted  by  Edward  III,  whose  parlia- 
ment gave  him  its  support;  and  Edward  IV  and  the  Tudon 
continued  the  work.  The  English  custom  of  sending  the  youngei 
sons  of  the  nobility  into  the  ranks  of  the  commons  helped  tc 
consolidate  the  people;  and  the  opposition  of  the  people  to  Poite 
vins  and  Gascons  served  to  develop  in  them  a  strong  sense  oi 
national  unity. 

In  Scotland  the  sense  of  nationality  was  developed  by  tlx 
struggle  under  Wallace  and  Bruce  for  independence.  And  tlx 
Bohemians,  who,  despite  the  fact  that  their  king^  received  in- 
vestiture from  the  German  emperor,  and  were  included  amonj 
the  seven  electors,  kept  aloof  from  the  general  politics  of  thi 
Empire,  were  drawn  together  by  the  brilliant  conquests  of  Otto 
kar  II  and  the  struggles  of  the  Hussite  movement  The  feelin{ 
of  nationality  was  greatly  strengthened  by  its  a^sodatioa  witl 
the  religious  reform  movement  which  was  directed  to  the  estab 
lishment  of  a  national  Bohemian  church.  In  the  Spanish  penin' 
sula  the  long  warfare  against  the  infidel  drew  the  people  to 
gether.  Provincial  jealousies  were  weakened,  they  were  rde 
gated  to  the  background  by  the  greater  interests  of  the  commof 
enterprise.  So  the  Spanish  peoples  were  welded  by  the  Per- 
petual Crusade  into  a  nation.  And  when  the  elements  of  i 
strong  national  life  had  thus  been  gained,  Ferdinand  of  Aragoi 
married  Isabella  of  Castile  and  thus  hastened  the  definite  politica 
union  of  the  Spanish  kingdom.  So  strong  did  the  sense  of  na- 
tionality  become  in  Spain  that  ecclesiastical  affairs  were  in  i 
large  degree  withdrawn  from  the  dominion  of  the  Curia  anc 
made  subject  to  the  Crown. 

From  this  movement  towards  nationality  Italy  and  German] 
stood  aloof.  In  Italy  the  Papacy,  which  thought  that  its  owr 
position  would  be  weakened  by  the  union  of  the  numerous  Italiar 
States,  effectively  opposed  political  consolidation.  Ever  sinci 
the  days  of  the  Lx)mbards  it  had  been  the  traditional  policy  oi 
the  Papacy  to  thwart  any  attempt  of  a  secular  leader  to  secun 
national  sovereignty  in  the  peninsula,  and  the  papal  restoratior 
had  made  it  strong  enough  to  carry  out  this  policy  effectively 
Then,  too,  Italy  at  this  time  seemed  to  be  more  concerned  wit! 
intellectual  emancipation  than  with  political  consolidation.  I1 
is  true  there  were  dreamers  who  had  visions  of  a  united  Italy,— 


W^rtHa- 
ttonallty 


THE  REVIVAL  OF  THE  NATION  57 


Dmte  and  Henry  of  Luxemburg  among  others.  But  Italy  had  OHAP.m 
become  rdaxed  by  prosperity  and  still  further  disintegrated  by  i27ft-i60« 
the  rqnd  mental  enfranchisement  of  the  Renaissance  movement 
For  a  loiag  time  the  Italians  had  been  accustomed  to  the  shifting 
combinations  of  the  many  States  into  which  their  peninsula  was 
dmded.  The  changes  in  these  combinations  were  ''  a  game  of 
ceasdess  check  and  counter-check."  Oftentimes  the  moves  in 
this  game  were  directed  with  extraordinary  astuteness,  but  the 
great  principle  of  nationality  was  lost  to  view.  More  important 
to  Italians  dian  the  unification  of  Italy  seemed  to  be  the  preser- 
vation of  the  distinctive  marks  and  the  privileges  of  a  Florentine, 
a  Venetian,  a  Neapolitan,  or  a  Roman.  And  so,  "  the  swelling 
tide  of  nationality  passed  them  by  to  wash  other  shores."  It 
was  not  until  the  days  of  Garibaldi  and  Mazzini  that  the  sense 
of  nationality  was  developed  in  Italy,  and  it  is  still  only  opening 
Its  wings. 

The  medieval  idea  of  the  universal  lordship  of  the  Holy  Ro- 
man Emperor,  although  it  had  grown  more  shadowy  with  each 
succeeding  century,  had  much  to  do  with  retarding  national  con- 
solidation in  Germany.  The  emperor  was  bound  to  assert  his 
suzerainty  over  Italy.  Although  many  attempts  were  made  this 
proved  to  be  an  impossible  task.  But  it  engaged  the  energy  that 
nogfat  otherwise  have  been  directed  against  the  disintegrating 
forces  that  distracted  Germany,  and  so  Italy  became  the  sepulcher 
of  German  national  unity.  Germany  was  dissolved  into  a  con- 
federacy of  States  and  cities  and  classes  each  bent  upon  the  fur- 
dierance  of  its  own  special  interests.  Towards  the  end  of  the 
Middle  Ages  there  were  some  forty  secular  princes  and  seventy 
ecclesiastical  princes,  besides  an  uncounted  host  of  greater  and 
smaller  imperial  cities  and  inconsequential  nobles.  The  em- 
peror became  nothing  more  than  the  titular  head  of  this  loose 
confederacy.  Yet  the  medieval  ideal  of  empire  was  not  the  sole 
cause  of  the  disintegration  of  Germany.  Other  historical  con- 
ditions, such  as  the  opposition  of  the  agricultural  and  urban  in- 
terests, and  geographical  di£Ferences  were  by  no  means  unim- 
portant factors. 

The  revival  of  the  nation  had  its  roots  deep  in  human  nature. 
It  is  by  the  maintenance  of  wholesome  relations  with  one's  fel-  Th^worOi 
low-men  that  the  individual  can  best  secure  his  own  development.  ^^■" 
The  tics  that  bind  men  together  are  not  so  much  the  accidental 
and  incidental  things  of  race,  language,  theological  creed,  or 
geography,  but  rather  the  common  memories  of  a  people  and  the 
win  to  perpetuate  those  memories.  A  nation,  therefore,  is  not 
an  artificial  expedient  devised  to  attain  certain  special  and  tem- 


S8  THE  RENAISSANCE 


OHAP.m  porary  ends.  Its  elements,  distinctive  character,  treasured 
ifl75*ifoo  tory,  deep  and  passionate  desire,  are  to  be  found  in  humar 
ture  itself,  in  the  indwelling  necessity  for  the  association  of  : 
Yet  there  should  be  no  narrow  conception  of  nationality.  A 
limited  idea  of  nationality  inevitably  results  in  spiritual  disa 
It  makes  of  patriotism  only  a  magnified  selfishness.  It  is 
with  a  generous  and  an  expanding  ideal  of  nationality  thai 
solidarity  of  human  interests,  the  essential  brotherhood  o 
men,  can  be  concretely  realized.  It  is  only  with  such  an 
that  individuality  can  find  its  finest  development. 


CHAPTER  IV 

THE  REVIVAL  OF  THE  INDIVIDUAL 

1.  Individuality. 

2.  How  it  had  been  lost 

3.  How  it  came  back. 

4.  When  and  where  it  came  back. 

5.  The  significance  of  Individuality. 

THE  word  *'  individuality  "  means  the  quality  of  not  being  ohap.iv 
capable  of  further  division.     Society  is  an  organization  of  1276-1600 
men.    It  is  not  an  organism.     It  is  dependent  upon  the  organ- 
isms which  it  includes.     It  derives  its  life  from  the  individuals 
who  compose  it     Society  cannot  be  resolved  into  anything  more 
fundamentally  simple  than  the  individual.    The  individual  man 
is  the  atom  of  hiunan  society.    He  is  a  real  concrete  entity,  in- 
capable of  division  and  incapable  of  fusion.    He  remains  for- 
ever separate.    Individuality,  the  force  of  separate  self-hood, 
is  the  most  important  fact  in  human  life.    Only  as  a  man  stands 
squarely  and  solidly  upon  his  own  feet  can  he  deal  in  the  most 
effective  way  with  the  world  of  nature  and  the  world  of  men. 
It  is  only  through  the  channel  of  individuality  that  new  thought  xndMd- 
and  new  art  can  come  into  the  world ;  and  thought  and  art,  im-  "^^^ 
material  though  they  be,  are  the  matrix  that  shapes  the  issues 
of  life.    Personality  is  the  central  fact  and  force  of  hiunan  na- 
ture.   The  reverse  of  the  old  saying  that  there  is  nothing  new  y^ 
nnder  the  stm  is  tijge;     ihere  is  nothmg  unTfef~fh"e  'siin'THat  is     a^^*". 
not  new.    'No^two  leaves  upon  the  same  tree  are  identfcal.    No    / '       , 
two  animals,  even  ofthfe  gamg  B4lflatagey^jw^>"ex^^^         alike.           -  '' 
EfcfyTife  Ts'anew  combination  ofj?^4^ifQ'"Qe&  — EyJiy.  .E^rspP" 
alityjis  "origlflal  afla  unparalleled^^  The  difference  between  men 
is  so  great  as  to  become,  in  the  case  oFgenius,  incalculable  aii3t 
HKnitablei    The  ditf erence  of  our  faces  and  our  voices  is Inerely" 
symboEcaToT  mental  and  emotional  differences  vastly  more  im- 
portant    "  No  other  man's  fingerprint,"  said  a  recent  English 
poet,  ^has  the  same  pressure  as  mine,  and  I  shall  see  that  it 
appears  on  everything  I  handle,  everytfiing  I  adopt,  everything 
I  own.     The  gloves  of  party,  of  culture,  of  creed,  wherewith 
men  hide  their  fingerprints  lest  they  should  be  caught  in  the 

69 


r 


6o 


THE  RENAISSANCE 


QgAP.rv  act  of  being  themselves,  I  decline  to  wear."  The  process  of 
1S7S-1600  multiplication  is  powerless  to  produce  an  admirable  society  when 
the  units  multiplied  are  themselves  contemptible.  ''If  I  see 
nothing  to  admire  in  a  tmit/'  said  Emerson,  *'  shall  I  admire  a 
million  units?"  It  is  through  individuality  that  the  force  of 
creation  flows  on  continually  in  the  world.  ''  Je  n^en  sais  rien,'* 
said  Napoleon  when  asked  the  origin  of  his  new  tactics,  "  je  smt 
fait  comme  ga,"  So  every  powerful  individuality  is  a  channd 
through  which  new  truth  comes  among  men.  The  certain  real- 
jty  of  th^  self  is  the  starting-point  of  modym  pKiTos^phy.  The 
one  key  to  the  great  enigms^  of  life  is  personality. 

The  Greeks  to  a  certain  extent  had  realized  tEe' importance 
of  individuality.  It  is  to  this  that  their  supreme  achievements 
in  art  were  largely  due.  Yet  despite  the  fact  that  Greek  art 
tells  us  of  a  high  development  of  individuality,  the  politicai 
tbinkgrs  ofGrgfiCg  gave  the  State .  the  first  claim. 
endeavoredTosubstitute  for  the  diminished  indiYiduj 


time  her  coittprehenSive  ana  tormulated  law.    Individualit 
l^?9!L?Jife^^§tilLfelt^^  Middle  Ages.     The  Church  taught^ 

that  indiytdualitv  was  rebellion^  anH  ^jj]^    Conscience,  which  is ' 
the  individual  judgment  of  what  is  right  and  wrong,  might  exist 

letWen  man  and  man,  but  not  between  man  and  God.    Man 
fst  not  be  content  to  live  his  own  life.    Instead,  it  should  be 

Tis  aim  to  live  over  again,  as  far  as  possible,  the  life  of  the  saints, 
the  life  of  Christ.  He  must  divest  himself  of  selfhood.  In- 
stead  ol_sedcing  to  frreate  he  stio»i1d  endpayor  onljp  tojmitate. 
AH  utterance^  ot  tfie<*arna1  seirwas  frailghtjwith  datngCTor  witti 
suH  Self-abnegation,  self-annihilation,  was  the  goal  of  the  me- 
dieval Christian  life.  It  was  a  sort  of  Buddhism,  save  that  the 
Nirvana  of  the  Christian  was  God  and  not  mere  oblivion.  The 
spirit  of  implicit  faith,  of  unquestioning  obedience,  inculcated 
by  the  age  of  faith,  was  destructive  of  individuality;  for  mere 
right-doing  in  obedience  to  external  commands  leaves  the  power 
of  individual  thought  and  judgment  in  abeyance.  It  empties 
action  of  all  rational  significance.  The  ideal  of  life  of  the  Mid- 
dle Ages  was  one  closed  about  with  the  circumscribing  walls  of 
a  cloister.  Yet  its  vision,  though  narrow,  was  lofty.  It  ignored 
as  much  as  possible  the  world  of  nature  and  the  world  of  men, 
but  it  opened  upon  the  infinite  like  "  the  chink  which  serves  for 
the  astronomer's  outlook  upon  the  abysses  of  heaven."  Indi- 
viduality was  also  restricted  in  other  affairs  of  life  in  the  Middle 
Ages.  It  was  so  in  political  matters.  When  the  cities  threw  off 
the  yoke  of  feudalism  it  was  a  collective,  communal,  liberty  they 
enjoyed,  not  individual  freedom.    They  were  free  as  societies, 


THE  REVIVAL  OF  THE  INDIVIDUAL  6i 


bat  as  individuals  they  were  still  unemancipated.    It  was  so  in  ohap^ 
industrial  matters.    The  peasantry  on  the  manorial  estates  were  isTs-iaoc 
cbaioed  to  the  wheel  of  labor.    And  in  the  cities  the  life  of  the 
craftsman  was  directed  in  all  essential  respects  by  the  trade  at 
whidi  he  worked,  the  corporation  to  which  he  belonged,  the 
parish  in  which  he  worshiped,  and  the  quarter  of  the  city  in 
which  he  dwelt.    His  station  in  life  was  determined  as  im- 
nmtably  as  that  of  the  villein.    There  were  few  things  in  which 
his  individual  taste  or  opinion  was  a  deciding  factor.    It  was  a 
time  of  aggr^^ate  and  not  individual  strength.    Feudalism  and 
die  ideals  of  universal  empire  and  universal  church  had  bound 
together  the  various  peoples  of  Europe  "  in  a  rigorous  hierarchy 
wlSdi  imposed  order  on  the  confusion  of  barbarism.    On  all 
the  stages  of  the  immense  pyramid,  united  one  to  another  by  an 
invisiUe  force,  there  reigned  the  fundamental  law  of  the  new 
society.    The  individual  was  only  part  of  the  whole.    Isolation, 
had  it  been  possible,  would  have  been  fatal  to  him ;  for  he  had 
no  yilue  except  as  a  member  of  the  group  to  which  he  belonged, 
and  his  group  was  held  together  only  by  its  subordination  to 
masters  who  in  their  turn  were  subordinate  to  a  still  higher 
group.    Thus  the  unity  of  the  feudal  and  Catholic  edifice  was 
maintained  from  stage  to  stage;  kingdoms,  duchies,  counties, 
baronies,  bishoprics,  chapters,  religious  orders,  universities,  cor- 
poratiofis,   the  obscure  multitude  of   serfs.    At  each   stratum 
the  human  being  was  fettered  and  protected  by  the  duty  of 
fidelity,  by  perfect  obedience,  and  by  community  of  interests  and 
of  sacrifice.    The  individual  who  tried  to  burst  his  bonds,  the 
baron  who  revolted,  the  tribune  who  agitated  for  liberty,  the 
unbelieving  doctor,  the  heretical  monk,  the  Jacques  or  the  Frati- 
cdli,  were  crushed."    All  through  the  Middle  Ages  man  knew 
himself  only  as  a  member  of  a  family,  a  race,  a  party,  a  guild, 
or  a  church.    He  was  for  the  most  part  unconscious  of  himself 
as  an  individual    The  central  figure  of  Joinville's  Histoire  de 
S(n$U  Louis,  says  Gebhart,  is  the  one  clearly  individual  character 
whidi  the  Middle  Ages  have  left  us.    The  story  of  the  Renais- 
sance is  the  story  of  the  revival  of  the  individual  —  in  science, 
invention,  in  discovery,  in  art,  in  literature,  and  in  religion. 
The  deep,  underlying  cause  of  the  Renaissance  was  the  revival 
of  the  individual.    And  it  was  in  Italy  that  the  individual  first 
began  to  emerge  from  the  guild,  the  corporation,  the  commune, 
the  religious  order,  and  the  hierarchy. 

This  emergence  of  the  individual  was  not  a  sudden  apparition ; 
nor  did  it  occur  only  when  the  hour  of  the  Renaissance  was 
about  to  strike.     It  was  a  gradual  evolution;  and  its  workings 


62 


THE  RENAISSANCE 


Howlndl- 
▼idnaUtj 

T^Tlixoiigli 


OBAF.T7  may  be  observed  long  before  the  appearance  of  Petrarch  who 
1876-1600  has  been  called  the  first  modem  man.  It  was  at  the  dose  of  the 
thirteenth  century,  while  the  peoples  of  other  countries  were 
still  cognizant  of  themsd'^es  only  as  members  of  their  respective 
races  and  associations,  that  individuality  began  to  assert  itsdf  in 
Italy.  lt^]i^nR  apqniri^H  |hi>  HeQir<>  and  the  courag^jto  be  then)- 
sdves.  No  longer  wffff  thpy  afrai(T"*^^'Tw^g'<^^'tigfii;^f  Even 
In  the  matter  of  dress,  expression  was  given  to  personal  idiosyn- 
crasy and  taste.  In  Florence  there  came  to  be  no  longer  any 
prevailing  fashion  of  dress  for  men.  It  was  in  the  matter  of 
taste,  the  thing  that  differentiates  us  from  our  fellow-men  in 
what  we  like  to  eat,  or  smell,  or  hear,  or  see,  that  the  re-birth 
of  sdfhood  first  became  apparent.  Nowhere  is  the  significance 
of  individuality  so  evident  as  in  literature  and  art.  Indeed,  art 
depends  upon  individuality  for  its  very  existence.  Upon  all 
poetry  that  has  left  its  impression  upon  humanity  there  can  be 
seen  the  seal  of  personality  —  the  "keen  translunar  music"  of 
Milton,  the  "  cloudless,  boundless  human  view  "  of  Shakespeare, 
Shelley's  "  flush  of  rose  on  peaks  divine,"  and  the  "  wizard  twi- 
light" that  Coleridge  knew.  Before  Dante  there  were  poets  in 
Italy  who  were  able  to  stamp  their  work  with  the  unmistakable 
impress  of  their  personality,  but  it  was  he  who  for  the  first  time 
poured  "  in  all  his  writings  a  stream  of  personal  force  by  which 
the  reader,  apart  from  the  interest  of  the  subject,  feels  himself 
carried  away."  Others  following  in  his  wake  expressed  them- 
selves in  lyric,  epic,  novel,  and  drama.  Petrarch  was  explicitly 
aware  of  the  fact  that  the  highest  conditions  of  culture  can  be 
attained  only  by  the  free  evolution  and  interaction  of  self-de- 
veloped intellects.  By  the  recognition  and  expression  of  their 
individuality  were  the  Italians  enabled  to  emerge  from  the 
bondage  of  the  Middle  Ages  and  become  the  apostles  of  hu- 
manism to  the  modern  world.  Men  became  animated  by  an  over- 
powering desire  to  make  the  best  of  themselves.  All  around 
them  were  the  priceless  riches  inherited  from  the  past,  the 
architecture,  sculpture,  literature,  and  philosophy  of  the  bygone 
days  of  a  golden  age  which  the  inundating  wave  of  barbarism  had 
hidden  and  Christianity  caused  to  be  neglected  for  many  cen- 
turies. They  became  filled  with  a  deep  belief  in  the  desirability 
and  possibility  of  man's  perfection.  They  were  reinstated  in 
their  human  dignity  as  one  by  one  the  trammels  of  authority 
were  discarded  and  they  began  to  feel,  to  think,  and  to  act  as 
their  own  thought  and  instinct  directed.  And  as  a  powerful 
stimulus  there  came  about  a  rehabilitation  of  the  pagan  idea  of 
fame.    The  desire  for  immortality  upon  earth  was  coupled  with 


THE  REVIVAL  OF  THE  INDIVIDUAL  63 

the  hope  for  immortality  in  a  world  to  come,  and,  indeed,  in  oha]^iv 
ttooj  instances,  replaced  it  altogether.  isro-iaoo 

The  story  of  the  development  of  Italian  art,  like  that  of 
Ilalian  literature,  is  also  the  story  of  the  gradual  revival  and 
unfolding  of  individuality.  Little  by  little  the  spell  of  the 
Qmrch  which  had  held  art  in  thraH,"  and  alldwed  it  to  be  noth^  _ 
ing  more  than  its  banHmaiH^^n^  wag  hrrXrpr\  ^  Gradually  the  archi- 
tects, the  sculptors,  and  the  painters  dared  to  be  themselves. 
Instead  of  mere  conformity  to  long-established  traditions,  in- 
stead of  blind  obedience  to  canonical  conventions,  the  artists 
learned  to  look  within  themselves,  to  look  out  into  the  world  of 
nature  and  of  men,  and  then  to  record  their  visions.  Some  of 
the  arts  require  greater  independence  in  the  artist  than  do  others. 
Architecture  is  one  of  the  least  exacting.  More  than  any  of  the 
other  arts  it  is  dominated  by  the  national  genius  and  by  the  pre- 
vailing force  of  the  age.  The  cathedrals  of  the  Middle  Ages 
ait  the  expression  not  of  the  genius  of  individual  architects  but 
of  the  spirit  of  the  Age  of  Faith.  They  do  not  bear  the  stamp 
of  individual  thought  and  feeling  so  much  as  that  of  popular 
instinct.  Their  beauty  and  their  spirit  belong  to  the  age  that 
gave  them  birth.  In  the  architecture  of  the  early  Renaissance 
one  can  witness  the  exercise  of  individual  taste.  It  was  this 
exercise  of  individuality  that  gradually  revived  the  Greek  and 
Roman  styles  of  architecture,  changed  them  first  in  one  respect 
and  then  in  another,  and  finally  combined  them  into  a  new  style 
that  received  its  name  from  the  age.  Sculpture  and  painting 
demand  a  more  complete  exercise  of  individual  taste.  The 
statue  or  the  picture  is  far  less  a  common  product  of  a  people 
or  of  an  age  than  is  the  temple  or  the  cathedral.  Every  picture 
and  every  statue  that  has  attained  to  the  rank  of  art  is  unmis- 
takably the  product  of  an  individual  So  the  individuality  of 
the  Italians  found  fitting  mediums  of  expression  in  these  arts. 
Although  the  expression  of  personality  by  the  sculptors  and 
painters  was  very  feeble  at  first,  one  has  but  to  recall  their  names, 
Gmabue,  Duccio,  Giotto,  Orcagna,  Ghiberti,  Donatello,  to  realize 
distinctly  how  differentiated  they  became.  It  is  of  course  only 
by  the  expression  of  their  contrasting  personalities  that  this 
differentiation  was  produced.  Each  recorded  his  own  vision. 
Despite  the  fact  that  Donatello  was  the  first  sculptor  of  the 
Renaissance  to  make  a  free-standing  nude  figure  he  refused  to 
follow  the  conventions  of  classic  scuplture,  of  which  there  were 
doobdess  many  memorials  about  him,  and  trusted  to  his  own 
fine  power  of  observation.  Very  feeble  is  the  expression  of 
personality  in  the  pictures  of  Cimabue,  one  of  the  first  painters 


64  THE  RENAISSANCE 


oRAP.nr 


/ 


of  the  Renaissance,  but  it  is  unmistakable  in  Giotto,  charming  in 

1S7M600    Perugino,  opulent  in  Raphael,   and  overwhelming  in   Michd- 
angelo. 

In  curiosity,  as  well  as  in  taste,  individuality  found  a  channd 
for  expression  and  development.  Not  the  ignoble  curiosity  of 
"my  landlady's  neighbor,  she  who  lives  behind  us  to  the  left, 
whose  window  commands  our  garden,"  but  the  curiosity  that 
inspired  Roger  Bacon,  Newton,  and  Darwin.  In  the  Age  of 
Faith  curiositv  was  a  cardinal  sin.^  The  idea  thaFft  is  a  duty 
or  that  it  is  the  part  of  wisdom  to  find  out  the  reality  of  thingi 
was  quite  foreign  to  the  time.  It  was  dangerous  to  trusj 
guidance  of  one's  depraved  self-  Rey^latinn  y^as  the  sole  source 
BBwZndi.  of  truth.  Hut  when  Peter  the  Hermit  preached  the  first  Crusade 
22[J^[Vj^  he  unconsciously  helped  to  set  in  motion  forces  that  resulted  in 
ThxoQcii  the  Renaissance.  Travel  incited  the  curiosity  of  men  and 
^^"**""^  brought  them  into  contact  with  the  wonderfuj^ciYJlizatiQns  of 
Bvzantium  gndthe  Saracens.  Men  became  filled  with  curiosity 
not  only  to  know  the  civilization  of  other  countries,  but  to  learn 
something  of  men  who  had  lived  in  distant  ages  and  who  had 
been  actuated  by  different  ideals  of  life.  This  curiosity  came  to 
be  a  powerful  and  important  force.  It  extended  the  narrow 
horizon  of  the  Middle  Ages.  It  produced  a  rexiyal  oUfiarning 
and  of  research,  it  resulted  ininvention  and  in  discoveryj^and 
so  it  was  the  starting  point  of  modem  civilization.  It  "whis- 
pered to  G)lumbus,  plucked  Galileo  by  the  sleeve,  and  shook  the 
apple  off  Newton's  apple-tree."  It  initiated  the  experimental 
method.  It  implanted  in  the  hearts  of  men  the  desire  to  study 
and  to  know  the  world  for  themselves,  unencumbered  by  the 
bonds  of  authority.  It  spurred  them  to  the  most  daring  voyages 
and  the  most  patient  and  careful  investigations.  It  was  perhaps 
in  the/fie^d  of  learning  that  the  stirring  of  curiosity  first  became 
evident.  And  when  knowledge  of  the  classic  tongues  was  in- 
creased and  men  became  able  to  see  the  world  from  the  Gredc 
and  the  Roman  points  of  view,  the  aroused  interest  of  man,  his 
developed  intelligence  and  his  critical  curiosity  led  him  into  other 
fields  of  activity.  Thus  it  was  that  the  Renaissance  of  science 
and  literature  and  art  came  about;  with  the  awakening  of  curi* 
osity  there  had  come  into  existence  "  that  which  at  once  produced 
and  was  produced  by  all  these  —  thorough  perception  of  what 
exists,  thorough  consciousness  of  our  own  freedom  and  powers 
—  self-cognizance.  In  Italy  there  was  intellectual  light,  enabling 
men  to  see  and  judge  all  around  them,  enabling  them  to  act  wit- 
tingly and  deliberately.  In  this  lies  the  immense  greatness  of  the 
Renaissance;  to  this  are  due  all  its  achievements  in  literature 


THE  REVIVAL  OF  THE  INDIVIDUAL  65 

and  adenoe,  and,  above  all,  in  art, —  that,  for  the  first  time  since  cwif^ 
tbe  dissolution  of  antique  civilization,  men  were  free  agents,  isrs-ieot 
both  in  thot^t  and  in  deed." 

Individuality  also  made  itself  felt  in  the  field  of  religion.  In 
the  Age  of  Faith  men  had  but  to  heailcen  and  obey.  The  postu- 
late of  an  infallible  church  that  was  the  sole  custodian  of  truth 
rendered  unnecessary  the  exercise  of  the  reasoning  faculty  of 
man.  To  trust  one's  unaided  instinct  or  reason  was  to  run  the 
risk  of  being  deceived.  But  with  the  revival  of  individuality 
men  began  to  trust  something  within  themselves  —  the  consensus 
of  their  faculties,  which  we  have  narrowed  into  the  word  "  con- 
science.'' Against  the  authority  of  the  Qiurch  men  asserted 
the  rdiability  of  the  reasoning  faculty,  even  its  sovereign  power,  b^w  mot- 
and  the  dignity  of  the  individual  conscience.  The  only  test  of  ^^^{g^^^N 
truth,  said  Abelard,  is  its  reasonableness ;  and  the  wandering  Thxongii  / 
sdiolars  who  had  flocked  in  tens  of  thousands  to  hear  him  sowed  ^^^■^■«**»<* 
the  seed  of  his  method  everywhere.  In  Provence,  in  northern 
Italy,  and  elsewhere,  there  were  found  people  who  thought  they 
amid  live  a  religious  life  unassisted  by  the  priesthood  and  di- 
rected only  by  conscience.  They  dispensed  with  sacraments  and 
with  dei^.  The  Cathari  and  the  Patarini  in  Lombardy,  the 
Abigenses  in  Provence,  the  Lollards  in  England,  the  Hussites 
ffl  Bohemia,  and  the  Waldenses  in  the  Alpine  valleys  were  the 
principal  groups  of  heretics.  But  not  all  those  who  were  borne 
akttig  on  this  wave  of  intellectual  emancipation  became  heretics. 
There  were  those  who  stayed  within  the  pale  of  Mother  Church, 
who  denied  none  of  her  doctrines,  but  strove  to  effect  a  reform 
m  the  morals  of  clergy  and  laity.  Francis  of  Assisi,  Dominic, 
Bernard  of  Clairvaux,  Bernardino  of  Siena,  Savonarola,  num- 
bers of  the  trans-Alpine  humanists,  and  many  another  reformer, 
were  filled  with  a  passionate  desire  to  regenerate  society.  The 
movement  of  emancipation,  the  casting  aside  of  the  accepted 
ndes  and  criteria  of  the  medieval  period,  led  to  moral  reckless- 
ness, to  Aat  practice  and  tolerance  of  vice  which  constitutes  the 
worst  feature  of  the  Renaissance ;  but  the  age  was  by  no  means 
given  over  wholly  to  immorality.  It  is  often-times  the  striking 
feature,  the  abnormal  condition,  that  arrests  attention.  v.^ 

The  Crusades,  as  we  have  already  seen,  had  much  to  do  with  wimand 
the  revival  of  individuality.    They  opened  hitherto  unknown  dis-  JJJS^^!^ 
tances  to  the  European  mind.    They  awakened  a  passion  for  oam«BMk 
travd  and  adventure ;  and  travel  is  perhaps  the  best  method  of 
setting  men  free  from  prejudice.    Gradually  this  passion  became 
coupled  with  a  thirst  for  knowledge.    The  two  became  allied  in 
Italy.    So  to  study  the  bq^inning  of  the  revival  of  individualism! 


66  THE  RENAISSANCE 


Qgiy-iv  the  interest  in  the  individual  that  overleaps  all  the  claims  and 
1S76-1600  bonds  of  race,  nation,  and  church,  one  must  go  back  to  the  Cru- 
sades. The  Crusades  were  the  realization  of  the  Age  of  Faitb, 
the  triumph  of  the  Church.  But  the  results  were  far  from  those 
expected  by  the  Church.  New  groupings  were  made,  new  asso- 
ciations formed.  Englishmen,  Neapolitans,  Spaniards,  Germans, 
Frenchmen,  and  Italians,  were  brought  into  most  intimate  com- 
panionship with  each  other.  There  were  new  crystallizations. 
Everywhere,  in  camp,  during  truces,  in  hospitals,  on  the  way, 
and  in  pilgrimages,  men  were  taken  out  of  their  old  environ- 
ments, out  of  the  hearing  of  their  village  church-bells  that  con- 
stantly recalled  them  to  the  piety  of  their  childhood,  and  con- 
fronted with  new  things.  They  mingled  with  the  Mohammedan 
infidels  and  found  them  to  be  human,  kindly,  intelligent,  and 
prosperous,  and  sincerely  devoted  to  the  worship  of  what  they 
believed  to  be  the  true  God.  The  Crusaders  got  a  new  standard 
of  life  from  the  comforts  and  luxuries  of  the  Saracens.  They 
got  intellectual  stimulus.  They  lost  their  provinciality.  No 
longer  were  they  content  with  the  common  and  tmif  orm  nourish- 
ment of  Mother  Church,  but  each  began  to  crave  for  himself 
individual  stimulus  to  beauty  and  religion.  It  was  the  common 
broadening  effect  of  travel  raised  to  a  higher  power.  It  did  all 
that  travel  can  do  to  emancipate  men  in  a  brief  space  of  time. 
It  set  them  to  discovering  that  the  present  world  is  interesting 
and  beautiful,  real  and  God-given.  It  helped  to  make  their 
vision  less  vertical  and  more  horizontal. 

The  last  part  of  the  twelfth  century  and  the  first  part  of  the 
thirteenth  was  the  time  of  the  Goliardi,  the  wandering  scholars, 
who  lived  the  life  of  the  open  road,  the  free  song,  and  the  flow- 
ing bowl.  Theirs  was  a  care-free,  jovial  life.  They  turned 
their  backs  on  convention  and  gave  full  vent  to  impulse.  Theii 
vagrant  life  along  the  roads  and  in  the  villages  and  towns  of 
Europe  was  filled  with  youthful  exhilaration,  irrepressible  fuuj 
and  madcap  pranks.  Everywhere  they  were  received  with 
pleasure.  Their  songs,  "the  spontaneous  expression  of  care- 
less, wanton,  and  tmreflective  youth,"  were  listened  to  with  eager- 
ness. Perhaps  it  was  the  new  thought  which  these  songs  con- 
tained that  made  them  so  appealing,  thought  that  helped  men 
to  peer  beyond  the  bounds  of  feudalism  and  ecclesiasticism. 
They  were  charged  with  the  new  message  of  humanity.  They 
made  men  pause  and  wonder  whether  after  all  there  might  not 
be  something  worthy  and  necessary  in  the  impulse  of  nature. 
They  breathed  the  freedom  of  man.  It  is  true  that  these  song! 
of  the  Goliardi  were  in  Latin,  but  it  was  significant  that  a  par- 


THE  REVIVAL  OF  THE  INDIVIDUAL  67 

tictilar  dass  of  society  should  be  making  its  own  songs.  The  Q^^J^*'^ 
transition  from  this  to  lyrics  in  the  vernacular  was  not  long  or  isT^-ieoo 
diflBcott. 

In  Provence  individuality  found  a  fruitftd  soil  and  a  con- 
genial dimate.  Most  beloved  of  all  the  possessions  of  Rome,  it 
was  known  in  imperial  times  as  ''  the  Province."  And  not  only 
the  name  of  this  province  par  excellence  bore  memories  of 
Rome,  but  its  roads,  its  bridges,  its  towns,  and  many  a  less 
prebensible  inheritance.  Immigration  had  brought  to  it  not  only 
Romans,  but  Phoenicians,  Ionian  Greeks,  and  Saracens.  Its 
civilization  was  stamped  with  the  genius  of  the  ^st  as  well  as 
with  that  of  the  West.  Its  town  life  had  not  been  obliterated 
bjr  the  wave  of  barbarism.  Always  some  traces  of  the  old  ideals 
aiid  the  old  culture  remained.  Commerce  flourished  and  brought 
with  it  from  distant  ^aces  not  only  necessities  but  also  luxuries. 
Its  burghers  early  won  for  themselves  a  large  measure  of  f ree- 
(km,  and  its  nobles  were  less  exclusively  concerned  with  warfare 
and  the  chase  than  were  those  of  the  more  feudal  North.  In 
the  twelfth  century  the  lyric  poets  of  this  country,  the  trouba- 
dours, struck  the  note  of  modernity.  Men  of  the  proletariat 
as  well  as  the  men  of  the  palace  became  poets;  and  the  songs 
of  all  of  them  appealed  to  the  whole  populace  and  had  for  their 
burden  the  passions  and  the  dreams  of  men.  Things  that  are 
Dot  the  exclusive  privil^e  of  birth,  a  generous  and  a  brave  heart, 
a  fearless  mind,  courtesy,  and,  above  all,  love  that  has  forgotten 
itself  and  that  is  the  birthright  of  every  youthful  soul,  furnished 
the  themes  of  the  troubadour.  Individuality  found  a  wide  field 
in  which  to  roam.  Their  verse-forms,  too,  were  diversified. 
They  had  the  stately  chanson,  the  dramatic  sirvente,  the  el^ac 
complainte,  the  pliant  tenson,  for  the  morning  love-song  at  the 
shy  hour  of  dawn  the  aubade,  for  the  twilight  the  serenade,  and 
for  the  poem  of  idyllic  mood  the  pastourelle.  It  was  a  vibrant 
lyrical  poetry,  this  of  the  troubadours.  It  gave  expression  to 
the  life  of  the  whole  people.  The  bonds  of  feudalism  and 
ecdesiasticism  had  been  burst  asunder.  The  individual  emerged 
from  the  medieval  shelL  Freedom  of  thought  in  secular  matters 
led  to  independence  in  religion.  Criticism  of  the  clergy  in- 
creased. Heresy  took  root  and  flourished.  But  at  length  a 
crusade  was  preached  against  the  Albigenses.  The  French  king, 
m  part  because  of  political  considerations,  gave  his  aid  to  the 
pope,  and  Provence,  devastated  by  fire  and  everywhere  stained 
with  blood,  lost  its  liberty  and  its  civilization ;  and  so  its  awaken- 
ing individualism  was  extinguished. 

This  yearning  for  youth  and  love,  this  responsiveness  to  na- 


68  THE  RENAISSANCE 


Q^^J^*'^  ture,  quenched  in  Provence,  found  a  hcnne  in  Sicily.  It  is  die| 
iS7ft-i600  that  <Hie  finds  the  first  wdl-rounded  type  of  manhood  in  iSM 
intellectual  adventurer  and  oriental  dreamer,  Frederic  II, 
statesman,  philosopher,  poet,  skeptic,  and  theologian,  who 
a  premature  Renaissance  at  his  southern  court.  This  d4 
of  Barbarossa,  who  was  bom  in  Italy,  and  who  spoke  Italii^ 
French,  Greek  and  Arabic  from  his  childhood,  was  far  removJ 
in  spirit  from  the  Middle  Ages  though  he  lived  eighty  yeail 
before  Dante.  The  civilization  that  he  encouraged  was  esscfr 
tially  rational  and  generously  liberal.  Its  prime  concern  aal 
dominant  element  was  intellectual  culture.  The  Italians,  whff 
before  many  years  had  gone  by  were  "  to  be  charmed  by  personri 
energy  more  than  by  virtue,  and  who  in  the  following  centuqr 
permitted  their  masters  to  do  anything  provided  only  that  tbqr 
accomplished  great  things,  .  .  .  admired  this  Emperor  who  tried 
to  wrest  the  world  from  the  grip  of  the  Church  and  who,  wUk 
amusing  himself  among  his  poets,  astrologers,  musicians,  and 
singers,  was  reconciling  Christian  Europe  with  Mohammedan 
Asia."  In  his  conflict  with  the  Church,  Frederic,  who  was  ex- 
annmunicated,  dispossessed,  betrayed  by  his  chancellor,  and 
compelled  to  defend  his  possessions  in  all  parts  of  the  peninsuli, 
died  as  defeat  was  coming  upon  him.  But  his  work  left  a  last* 
ing  impression  upon  the  course  of  civilization.  The  stimulus 
he  gave  to  the  development  of  individuality  by  example  and  I7 
patronage  was  by  no  means  ephemeral. 

In  the  city-republics  of  the  Italian  peninsula  individuality 
found  opportunity  to  unfold.  The  cities  themselves  had  thrown 
off  the  dominion  of  the  Empire,  and  this  emancipation,  no  doubt, 
was  an  example  to  the  individual.  The  Latin  intelligence  and 
fine  imagination  of  the  Italians  was  sharpened  by  the  quick  life 
of  the  towns.  The  change  of  rule  from  one  party  to  another 
induced  the  successful  leaders  to  exercise  an  ever-increasing 
degree  of  watchfulness,  thought,  and  power.  The  exigencies  of 
the  situation  compelled  the  leaders  to  develop  every  ability  they 
possessed.  So  more  and  more  did  these  political  leaders  become 
marked  by  their  distinguishing  characteristics.  The  hope  of  se- 
curing their  lost  positions  was  likewise  a  stimulant  to  the  de- 
feated leaders  to  greater  and  more  thoughtfully-directed  energy* 
The  lack  of  such  hope  led  them  to  turn  their  attention  to  othei 
lines  of  activity,  to  literature,  or  to  the  other  intellectual  anci 
artistic  pursuits  that  were  banning  to  attract  the  attention  oi 
men.  It  would  be  a  mistake  to  think  that  the  incessant  civil 
discords  and  political  convulsions  always  hindered  the  progress 
of  the  conuntmes  and  the  development  of  individuality.    It  wai 


THE  REVIVAL  OF  THE  INDIVIDUAL  69 

in  die  midst  of  such  struggles  that  personality  was  formed.    It  ohaj^iv 

was  only  for  the  purpose  of  defending  or  aggrandizing  their  it7S-ieoo 

own  interests  that  the  free  citizens  of  the  commune  took  up 

amis, — the  interests  of  their  city  against  a  neighboring  commune, 

the  interests  of  their  party  against  a  rival  party,  and  their  own 

personal  interests  against  those  of  their  opponents.    Even  exile 

played   a   part   in   this   revival   of   individuality.    Banishment 

"  cither  wears  an  exile  out  or  develops  what  is  greatest  in  him.'' 

The  emigrants  gave  to  their  new  cities  a  cosmopolitan  air,  and 

cosmopolitanism  is  attained  only  through  the  widening  of  the 

horizon  by  means  of  an  increased  individualism.    All  of  them 

had  learned  to  resist  authority  that  they  deemed  to  be  arbitrary, 

aod  when  independence  has  been  asserted  in  one  sphere  of  life 

it  is  less  difficult  to  assert  it  in  the  others.    But  these  city-republics 

gradnaUy   lost  all  the  essential   features  of  a  republic;  they 

erentoally  became  self-governing  communities  in  name  only. 

They  passed  into  the  control  of  the  despots,  of  the  men  who  by 

the  force  of  their  individuality  had  made  themselves  the  masters 

of  their  f  dlow-men.  V 

The  age  of  the  despots  "  fostered  in  the  highest  d^^ee  the 
individuality  not  only  of  the  tyrant  or  condottiere  himself,  but 
also  of  the  men  whom  he  protected  or  used  as  his  tools  —  the 
secretary,  minister,  poet,  and  companion.  These  people  were 
forced  to  know  all  the  inward  resources  of  their  own  nature, 
pasring  or  permanent ;  and  their  enjo3rment  of  life  was  enhanced 
and  concentrated  by  the  desire  to  obtain  the  greatest  satisfaction 
from  a  possibly  very  brief  period  of  power  and  influence.*'  Up 
to  this  time  the  Italians  had  been  arrayed  against  each  other  only 
in  solid  masses,  town  against  town.  But  the  age  of  the  despots 
produced  a  condition  even  more  favorable  to  the  development  of 
individuality,  for  **  the  qualities,  virtues,  passions,  and  even  the 
Wees,  which  the  Italians  had  up  to  that  time  employed  for  the 
colkctive  good  of  their  town  were  henceforth  diverted  to  their 
own  private  advantage  with  an  energy  all  the  greater  because 
their  effort  was  egotistical  and  solitary.  It  no  longer  sufficed 
to  act  in  self-defense  to  avoid  destruction.  One  must  attack  and 
conquer  in  order  to  secure  to-morrow's  peace  and  to  content 
one's  pride.  In  this  struggle  of  man  against  man  it  was,  of 
course,  the  one  equipped  with  the  better  arms  that  triumphed. 
Wealdi,  knavery,  and  boldness  proved  excellent  arms;  but  the 
most  certain  of  all  was  intellect."  The  conditions  of  the  time 
called  into  play  the  varied  potentialities  of  each  individual.  So 
there  came  into  existence  those  versatile  men  of  the  Renaissance 
who  are  tfie  wonder  of  to-day.    In  order  to  win  control  of  a 


70  THE  RENAISSANCE 


0BAr.t7  state  it  was  not  necessary  to  be  of  noble  birth.  Any  ooe  m^ 
2876*1600  make  the  attempt,  a  soldier,  a  priest,  or  a  tradesmaOt  an  adven 
turer,  or  even  a  criminal.  The  ability  of  the  individual  was  no 
circumscribed  by  convention.  Provided  only  tha^  he  had  sufii 
cient  daring  and  the  talent  of  success  the  way  was  open  to  an; 
one,  even  though  of  the  most  obscure  or  ill^timate  birtb 
Ability  enabled  one  to  climb  from  the  lowest  rung  of  the  socia 
ladder.  Gismondo  Malatesta,  who  is  in  many  respects  a  typica 
despot,  proceeded  upon  the  assumption  that  to  the  individual  al 
things  are  possible.  He  trusted  his  own  powers  implicitly  an( 
in  them  he  placed  his  sole  reliance.  He  gave  free  rein  to  hi 
desires.  He  realized  that  only  his  own  capacity  could  protec 
him  against  the  increasing  power  of  the  pope  and  the  growing 
hostility  of  his  powerful  neighbors.  He  displayed  the  indiffer 
ence  to  humanity,  the  relentless  cruelty,  of  the  Middle  Ages,  th< 
political  sagacity  for  which  every  early  Italian  statesman  became 
famous,  and  the  intellectual  independence  of  the  age  in  whid 
he  lived.  Italy  was  a  seething  mass  of  struggling  despotisms  ii 
which  personal  power,  intellect  and  skill,  were  essential  to  sue 
cess.  And  when  political  success  had  been  attained  every  rulei 
proceeded  to  satisfy  his  personal  desires  in  his  own  way.  Th< 
will  of  the  despot  was  supreme.  But  even  the  subjects  ovei 
whom  the  despot  ruled,  as  well  as  the  poets,  artists,  scholars,  an( 
philosophers  whom  he  patronized,  felt  the  impulse  of  indi 
viduality.  The  large  majority  of  these  acquiesced  in  the  des 
potism,  especially  when  it  was  unmistakably  benevolent  ii 
character.  They  were,  of  course,  without  political  power;  bu 
that  did  not  prevent  them  from  engaging  to  the  fullest  extent  oi 
their  capacity  in  any  others  of  the  varied  activities  of  the  socia 
life  of  the  time.  Aside  from  the  lack  of  participation  in  th< 
control  of  the  State,  the  conditions  of  life  in  the  Italian  des- 
potism seem  unquestionably  to  have  fostered  the  development  oi 
individual  thought  and  power.  "  The  private  man,  indiffereni 
to  politics,  and  busied  partly  with  serious  pursuits,  partly  wit! 
the  interests  of  a  dilettante,  seems  first  to  have  been  fully  formed 
in  these  despotisms  of  the  fourteenth  century."  The  democra- 
cies and  despotisms  of  Italy  were  the  seed  plots  of  individuality 
It  was  there  that  man  first  emeiged  from  the  bondage  of  the 
age  of  feudalism  and  the  Age  of  Faith. 

The  insistence  upon  individuality  was  the  greatest  of  the 
many  factors  that  gave  rise  to  the  Renaissance.  It  caused  men 
to  question  the  authority  of  external  control,  and  inspired  then: 
to  develop  their  latent  powers  beyond  the  restricting  confines  ol 
authority.    It  made  them  ready  to  question  the  conventional 


THE  REVIVAL  OF  THE  INDIVIDUAL  71 

Standards  of  conduct.  It  filled  them  with  a  vivid  apprehension  ohaj^Jv 
I  of  life  and  a  zeal  for  activity  of  all  kinds.  Endowed  with  confi-  laTs-ieoo 
(fence  m  their  own  powers  they  faced  without  fear  every  problem 
that  coof ronted  them.  They  "  dared  to  be  themselves  for  good 
or  cvfl  without  too  much  regard  for  what  their  neighbors 
thoogfat  of  them."  The  energy  which  their  intense  individuality 
created  found  a  wide  range  of  expression,  from  superlative  in- 
tellectual activity  and  artistic  creation  to  the  depths  of  pagan 
sensuality.    The  standards  of  internal  moral  control  had  not  yet 

been  developed,  and  those  of  external  control  had  been  discarded: 

It  is  this  that  produced  such  violent  contrasts  of  emotion  and  imitM- 
conduct  and  that  "  makes  the  psychology  of  the  Renaissance  at  JJJI^]^ 
once  so  fascinating  and  so  difficult  to  analyze."    It  was  the  portant 
seemii^ly  illimitable  vitality  of  the  individual  force  of  princes  ^IT^iif' 
and  popes,  of  statesmen  and  scholars,  of  poets  and  of  painters,  naiManct 
that  made  the  Renaissance  one  of  the  most  remarkable  eras  in 
the  history  of  the  world.    **  A  man's  mind,"  said  the  wise  author 
of  EcclesicLsHcus,  "  is  sometime  wont  to  tell  him  more  than  seven 
watchmen,  that  sit  above  in  an  high  tower."    The  desire  to 
study  and  to  know  the  world,  to  put  aside  the  fetters  of  arbitrary 
aothonty  and  discoloring  prejudice,  and  see  things  as  they  really 
are,  gave  birth  to  new  thought,  to  literature,  science,  and  art,  and 
it  revived  the  experimental  method  of  investigation  without  which 
it  is  impossible  to  extend  the  horizon  of  man's  knowledge.    It 
produced  the  Renaissance  and  the  modern  world  in  which  we 
five.    The  consciousness  of  the  individual  is  the  only  creative 
faculty  in  life.     In  the  last  resort  it  is  the  only  center  of  good 
and  evil,  the  sole  home  of  values. 

"  For  what  avail  the  plow  or  sail. 
Or  land  or  life,  if  freedom  fail?^ 

Without  the  freedom  and  development  of  the  individual  the 
modem  world  would  have  been  impossible.  And,  one  may  add, 
urithout  the  devotion  of  the  emancipated  individual  to  social  service 
the  salvation  of  the  modem  world  shall  be  sought  in  vain. 

The  wise  man  recognizes  the  tmth  in  the  principle  of  individ- 
ualism and  in  that  of  association,  and  preserves  a  balance  between 
these  two  opposing  forces.  It  was  Descartes  who,  in  a  later 
century,  first  clearly  suggested  the  reconciliation  between  the 
fullest  individual  development  and  the  pursuit  of  a  social  end. 


CHAPTER  V 


THE  REVIVAL  OF  LITERATURE 


CRAP.  V 


1276-1300 


Why  tlM 


tance  did 
not  Begin 
in 


1.  Why  the  Renaissance  did  not  Begin  in  France. 

2.  Why  the  Renaissance  Be^an  in  Italy. 

3.  Dante,  Petrarch,  Boccaccio,  and  Chaucer. 

4.  The  Revival  of  Latin  and  Greek  Letters. 

5.  Humanism  in  Florence,  at  the  Italian  Courts,  on  the  Papal  Throne,  in 

the  Schools,  and  Beyond  the  Alps. 

IN  the  twelfth  and  thirteenth  centuries  it  was  France  that  hdd 
the  intellectual  supremacy  of  western  Europe.  But,  as  we 
have  seen,  the  premature  Renaissance  of  Provence  was  extin- 
guished with  fire  and  sword.  This  was  not  the  sole  cause,  how- 
ever, of  the  decline  of  southern  France.  The  civilization  of  that 
country  contained  intrinsic  defects.  It  was  essentially  lyrical, 
emotional,  and  egotistical.  It  was  incapable  of  that  calm,  dis- 
passionate, objective  view  of  life  which  is  indispensable  to  intel- 
lectual progress.  Then,  too,  after  its  rapid  emancipation  from 
feudalism  it  had  received  certain  streams  of  thought  which 
threatened  to  detach  it  from  the  civilization  of  Christendom. 
It  listened  eagerly  to  the  iconoclastic  whisperings  of  Manicheism, 
it  gave  welcome  to  the  austere  rationalism  of  the  Vaudois,  neither 
of  which  was  calculated  to  encourage  the  development  of  art  or 
of  science,  and  it  furnished  votaries  of  Averroism,  which  set  its 
face  against  the  revival  of  Greek  culture.  It  was  because  of 
these  things  that  southern  France  failed  to  become  the  seat  of 
the  Renaissance.  Northern  France  had  produced  the  most 
spiritual  architecture  that  the  world  has  ever  seen.  The  sculp- 
ture that  adorned  her  Gothic  churches,  delicate  product  of  a 
refined  religious  sentiment,  was,  in  its  way,  well-nigh  perfect 
Of  the  seemingly  lost  art  of  stained  glass  that  made  her  cathe- 
drals glow  with  the  splendor  of  the  sunset  she  was  the  chief 
mistress.  She  possessed  the  epic  spirit  and  the  deep  earnestness 
that  were  lacking  in  the  south.  Her  language  was  known  and 
used  all  over  the  civilized  world.  Civil  liberty  had  made  great 
progress  in  her  towns.  And  Abelard,  in  his  lectures  at  the  great 
University  of  Paris,  had  shown  the  way  to  intellectual  freedom. 
Why,  then,  did  northern  France  fail  to  carry  forward  the  lighted 
torch  of  civilization?    Scholasticism  bliiihted  its  thoucrht.    Ob- 


THE  REVIVAL  OF  LITERATURE 


73 


scrvatkm  of  the  world  of  nature  and  of  men,  investigation,  was  y'^J^^ 
not  practised.    Men  were  engrossed  with  the  method  of  reason-  uto*1800 
^'mg.   They  held  logic,  and  not  investigation,  to  be  the  sole  key 
,  to  knowledge.    They  made  the  syllogism  the  very  end  of  science 
instead  of  recognizing  it  as  being  merely  one  of  the  instruments 
of  science.    Given  over  to  the  discipline  of  the  syllogism,  they 
faOed  to  base  their  premises  upon  the  data  of  experience,  and 
ihcy  failed  to  verify  their  conclusions.     Instead  of  going  out 
into  the  world  to  gather  data  upon  which  to  Sase  their  generaliza- 
tions they  were  completely  absorbed  in  the  processes  of  logic. 
SoAeir  ingenious  and  interminable  disputations,  that  remind 
m'oi  a  squirrel  going  round  anJDtmii J  ity  ^ig€'"wlB^pr;fw7^ng 
sloll  and  arriving  nowhere,  were  barren  of  results.^JThe  intel-    \ 
tet  of  northern  France  was  benumbed  by  its  system  of  educa-     / 
tiwL    Logic  is  too  thin  and  bloodless  a  thing  to  direct  and  govern  / 
life.    It  IS  jx)ssil>}^  to  reason  forever  ang  y^^  ^^  Var^  nnthingV 
A  second  reason  is  to  be  found  in  the  decline  of  the  inde- 
pendence of  the  towns.    The  social  conditions  that  had  come  to 
exist  in  the  municipal  democracies  favored  the  development  of 
thoaght  and  the  progress  of  civilization.     But  in  the  process  of 
the  centralization  of  power  in  the  hands  of  the  king,  the  towns 
lost  their  independence.    As  a  political  force  the  middle  class 
grew  more  and  more  insignificant.    Thus  northern  France  lost 
the  two  conditions  that  are  indispensable  to  the  development 
of  civilization  —  freedom  of  thought  and  political  liberty.    The 
springs  of  her  intellectual  life  ran  low.     So  that  the  Renaissance 
which  might  have  been  cradled  in  France  found  a  birthplace  in 
Italy. 

In  Italy  all  the  conditicxis  necessary  for  the  success  of  such  a    ~ 
movement  as  the  Renaissance  were  present.    She  possessecjjfree- 
dom  of  thought.    Scholasticism  had  never  been  accepted  as  the 
sole  and  infallible  method  of  thought.    The  Italian  genius,  un-  whj  tha 
like  Ihc  French,  did  not  lend  itself  to  the  study  of  logic  for  its  JS^^\^ 
own  sake.    It  was  concerned  with  the_concrete  realities  Qt"The  gan  in 
world  rather  tfan  with  mental  abstractions.    This  was  illustrated  '*^ 
in  the  principal  tmiversity  of  each  country.    At  Paris  dialectics, 
which  was  nothing  more  than  mental  gymnastics,  reigned  su- 
preme.   At  Bolc^a  it  was  law,  which  has  to  do  with  the  actual 
deeds  and  interests  of  men,  that  flourished.    The  Italians  made 
law  the  basb  of  their  liberal  education.    They  were  not  afflicted 
with  the  intellectual  disease  of  an  excess  of  dialectics  that  ren- 
dered the  French  mind  incapable  of  innovation.    Unwarped  by 
the  narrowing  discipline  of  scholasticism  the  Italians  developed 
the  critical  sense  and  assigned  to  reason  the  domain  which  of 


74  THE  RENAISSANCE 

CHAP.  V  right  belongs  to  it  They  were  able  to  distinguish  deaxly  b^ 
1276-1300  tween  feeling  and  fact ;  they  combined  a  capacity  for  deq)  emo- 
tion with  scientific  procedure.  All  their  autobiographioil  and 
historical  writings  reveal  them  to  have  been  consciously  aiming 
to  produce  at  pne  and  the  same  time  a  scientific  document  and  a 
piece  of  literature.  French  memoirs,  pn  the  other  hand,  alwajfs 
so  artistic  and  agreeable,  are  literary  creations  rather  than  scien- 
tific documents.  Social  conditions  also  favored  the  development 
of  the  Renadssancy  in  liaiy.  The  rise  of  the  commune^  each 
one  of  which  was  essentially  though  not  absolutely  ah  autono- 
mous   republic,    relieved    h^X   frftP^    ^^^   rippr^CQinn    r^f    frntHal^cm 

The  struggle  between  the  Empire  and  the  Papacy,  resulting  as  it 
did  in  the  enfeeblement  of  the  contestants,  enabled  Italy  to 
lighten  the  burdens  they  had  imposed  upon  her.  Thus  she  re- 
lieved the  pressure  of  a  triple  yoke — feudalism,  the  Empire, 
and  the  Church.  And  in  the  process  of  this  emancipation,  and 
as  one  of  its  results,  there  came  about,  as  we  have  seen,  a  revival 
of  individuality.  The  age  of^  the  commune  passed  into  the  age 
of  the  despotS;^_This  in  ^ts  turn  resulted  in  an  intensification  at 
ptrsonaii^I  And  the  despots,  perhaps  without^  single  excep- 
ti<Si,  gave  encouragement  U>  Uteralure  and  to  art.  A  third  cause 
that  made  Italian  soil  fertile  for  th^  Renaissance  waTthe  preser- 
vation oi.  th€LJClassi$LJtcaditionu_^  In  Italy  tfie  civilization  of  the 
ancient  world  had  never  so  completely  disappeared  beneath  the 
wave  of  the  barbarian  invasions  as  it  had  done  elsewhere.  It  was 
always  believed  that  the  grandeur  of  Rome  had  suffered  only  a 
transient  eclipse,  that  her  destiny  was  divine  and  her  power 
eternal.  They  found  no  hero,  as  did  the  French  and  the  Ger- 
mans, in  the  ranks  of  the  feudal  aristocracv.  TtprTimy  ng^rinnal 
ffadjtions  whlchjlJ^y  ^^^_  were  thoSglrf'^ome.  So  the  Renais- 
sance, in  one  sense,  was  but  a  continuation  of  a  tradition  which 
the  accidents  of  history  had  never  abolished.  This  admiration 
and  love  for  the  Latin  civilization  in  medieval  Italy  was  by  no 
means  confined  to  a  few  cultured  minds.  It  was  ''  a  popular 
sentiment,  a  living  passion.  It  was  left  in  men's  minds  by 
paganism,  and  Rome  devastated,  its  temples  overgrown  with 
brambles,  its  statues  of  the  gods  mutilated,  its  Forum  and 
Coliseum  haunted  by  wild  beasts,  still  spoke  with  a  mysterious 
voice  to  the  heart  of  the  people."  The  writings  of  Vergil,  the 
Latin  tongue,  the  Roman  law,  each  in  its  way  contributed  to  the 
preservation  of  the  classic  tradition.  Nor  was  the  inheritance 
of  Greece  wholly  lost.  Greek  traders  and  the  descendants  of 
Greek  colonists  used  the  Greek  language;  and  the  negotiations 
between  the  Greek  and  Latin  churches  compelled  attention  to  it 


*^ 


THE  REVIVAL  OF  LITERATURE  75 

In  emy  one  of  the  medieval  centuries  there  were  Italians  who  ohaf.  v 
were  students  of  Greek.    The  classic  tradition,  then,  was  for  lars-isoo 
Itify  ''a  long  continuity  of  memories."    A  fourth  reason  that 
cnaUed  Italy  to  become  the  first  seat  of  the  Renaissance  was  the 
fact  that  she  had  gradually  become  possessed  of  a  language 

This  fact  was  demonstrated  by  Dante  when  he  wrote  his  immor- 
tal epic  in  which  **  there  is  no  sense  of  damnation,  no  sigh  of 
love,  no  outburst  of  anger  which  does  not  find  its  form,  its 
colour,  or  its  precise  note.''  And  in  his  hands  Italian  prose  also 
proved  its  capacity  to  express  with  exactitude  the  most  subtle 
shades  of  thought  and  feeling.  It  was  at  the  right  moment  that 
the  Italian  language,  **  so  delicate  and  so  sonorous,  emerged  from 
its  Latin  chrysalis  and  became  a  perfect  form  for  Italian  litera- 
lore. 

Such  were  the  fundamental  and  permanent  causes  of  Italy's 
primacy  in  the  Renaissance.  There  were  in  addition  certain  sub- 
sidiary and  temporary  causes,    j^^jnf*  ^1•/^r^u  a^^c  »i^^  TfoKoti 

peninsula  was  the  meetit^g  plarp  nf  ma^y  r^Y^]|j[?afinns.     In  the 

iDOsaks  of  her  churches  may  still  be  seen  something  of  the  wide- 
spread and  long-continued  influence  of  Byzantium.  Even  more 
general  was  the  influence  of  the  Arabs.  Indeed,  ''all  Euro(>e 
fdt  the  prestige  of  this  elegant  race,  of  whose  strange  and  re- 
fined customs  some  glimpse  had  been  gained  during  the  Cru- 
sades." In  science,  in  art,  and  in  poetry  they  were  for  a  long 
tinie  supreme.  The  Normans  superseded  the  Arabs  in  the  po- 
litical control  of  Sicily.  But  the  two  races  lived  peaceably  side 
by  side,  and  the  political  capacity  of  the  Normans  was  inter- 
fused with  the  Arabic  civilization.  This  composite  civilization 
was  carried  over  to  the  mainland  by  Frederic  II,  whose  reign, 
IS  we  have  seen,  was  a  prelude  of  the  Renaissance.  Something 
of  the  genius  of  Provence  was  interwoven  with  that  of  Italy 
when  the  court  of  Frederic  gave  asylum  to  the  troubadours  and 
their  lyrical  poetry.  More  lasting  in  its  effect  was  the  influence 
of  the  q>ic  and  romantic  literature  of  northern  France.  Many 
an  Italian,  long  before  the  time  of  Dante,  Petrarch,  and  Boc- 
caccio, found  hia  way  to  the  University  of  Paris.  And  other 
French  schools.  Tours,  Orleans,  Toulouse,  and  Montpdlier,  were 
not  without  their  students  from  across  the  Alps.  Still  another 
cause  was  the  fact  that  when  the  Renaissance  began  to  dawn 
Italian  writers  and  artists  found  ready  and  generous  patrons  in 
the  popes  of  Avignon. 

The  q>ecial  aptitude  of  the  Italians,  their  penetrating  sense  of 
reality,  their  freedom  from  prevenient  judgment,  their  lack  of 


76  THE  RENAISSANCE 


^^^^^''^    prejudice  with  which  to  clothe  the  naked  truth,  their  dearth 
1176-1800   of  cherished  illusions  that  had  to  be  saved  at  any  cost,  their 
aesthetical  sensitiveness  as  opposed  to  ethical  sensitiveness,  led 
them  into  many  lines  of  activity,  into  commerce,  industry,  finance, 
war,  politics,  philosophy,  literature,  art,  and  religion.    And  with 
their  sense  of  reality,  their  clear  understanding  of  men  and  of 
things,  their  ability  to  see  things  unblinkingly  in  the  white  light 
of  fact,  there  went  to  complete  the  Italian  character  of  the  Re* 
naissance  period  a  deep-seated  passion  that  found  its  vent  iim. 
love,  pride,  and  ambition,  and  an  indomitable  will  that  brooked 
no  obstacle  to  its  sovereign  sway.    These  qualities,  this  znrtA^ 
this  perfection  of  the  personality,  that  which  makes  a  man,  ther 
power  to  will  (the  word  is  untranslatable),  resulted  in  lives  that: 
were  compounded  of  wisdom  and  folly,  brutality  and  kindness, 
of  unspeakable  immorality  and  religious  ecstasy,  of  unscrupulous 
selfishness  and  the  most  liberal  generosity.    The  virtuoso  ac- 
knowledged no  limit  to  his  desires  and  set  no  bound  to  his  deeds. 
It  was  his  aptitudes  that  i^ir]^iced  Italian  civilizaticm  with  all 
the  amazing  variety  of  its  manifestations,  a  civilization  that  for 
the  three  centuries  of  the  Renaissance  period  remained  essen*^ 
tially  the  same. 

-'Tfie  first  field  of  art  in  which  this  genius  of  the  Italians  found 

expression  was  that  of  literature.  There  had  Icxig  been  a  popu- 
lar poetry  in  Italy,  as  elsewhere,  giving  expressicm  to  the  joys 
and  sorrows  of  the  common  people,  and  little  known  to  us  to-day 


j^\*^  because  it  was  intended  to  be  sung  and  not  read.  The  first 
*^^^'"  ^^jf^^P  poetry  of  any  itnpnrta^^^  was  that  of  the  troufcadours. 
Dante  OrivenDy  the  horrors  of  the  crusade  against  the  Albigenses 
many  of  the  troubadours  left  their  native  country  and  wandered 
from  one  end  of  the  Italian  peninsula  to  the  other.  Admiration 
of  these  wandering  minstrels  engendered  imitation,  and  so  before 
long  Italian  troubadours,  scarcely  to  be  distinguished  from  those 
of  Provence  began  to  sing,  in  the  language  of  Provence,  of  love 
and  war,  the  basic  elements  of  chivalry.  Individuality  is  but 
faintly  indicated  in  their  songs,  and  there  is  little  regard  for 
nature.  Later  on,  in  Sicily,  at  first  under  the  patronage  of 
Frederic  II,  there  were  poets  who  wrote  in  Italian.  They  were 
dominated  by  the  Provengal  influence,  but  they  were  not  without 
an  originality  of  their  own.  They  were  innovators  in  that  they 
were  the  first  to  raise  one  of  the  Italian  dialects  to  the  dignity 
of  a  poetic  idiom,  to  make  of  it  something  more  than  a  mere 
dialect.  They  invented  several  verse-forms,  among  them  the 
cansona,  which  Dante  chose,  the  sonnet,  which  Petrarch  carried 
to  perfection,  and  the  strambotto,  which  in  after  years  suggested 


THE  REVIVAL  OF  LITERATURE  jy 


the  fluent  and  noble  stanza  of  The  Fairy  Queen.  Dante  tells  Qg^^'V 
us  that  the  influence  exerted  by  the  Sicilians  was  most  potent.  1275-1300 
It  was  by  this  Sicilian  school  that  the  seed  of  Italian  literature 
was  sown.  Just  when  the  movement  began  to  spread  northward, 
and  what  route  it  took,  cannot  now  be  determined,  but  the  seed 
^rang  up  with  marvelous  rapidity.  St.  Francis  of  Assisi  and 
his  followers  did  much  to  elevate  the  vernacular  into  the  rank 
of  a  literary  language.  The  rhythmic  prose  of  the  Poverello 
constitutes  the  earliest  example  of  religious  literature  in  an 
Italian  dialect.  In  the  latter  half  of  the  thirteenth  century  there 
were  a  few  poets  who  had  something  of  personal  inspiration,  in 
whose  poems  something  of  individuality  may  be  found.  Among 
them  were  Guittone  di  Arezzo,  the  first  conspicuous  name  of  the 
indigenous  Italian  school,  and  Guido  Guinicdli,  of  Bologna, 
which  seems  to  have  been  one  of  the  first  cities  to  respond  to  the 
Sicilian  influence.  Before  long  the  practice  of  writing  verses 
in  the  vernacular  prevailed  at  Arezzo,  Pisa,  Pistoia,  Florence, 
Lucca,  Padua,  Pavia,  Ferrara,  Faenza,  and  other  towns,  each 
of  which  was  bent  upon  developing  to  the  utmost  its  local  dialect. 
It  was  the  Florentine  dialect  that  finally  prevailed  in  the  forma- 
tion of  the  Italian  language.  The  central  situation  of  Florence, 
her  commercial  prosperity,  her  political  importance  and  the 
strikii^  degree  to  which  individuality  had  been  developed  among 
her  citizens  all  contributed  to  this  result.  But  of  greater  impor- 
tance than  these  causes  was  the  fact  that  of  all  the  Italian  dia- 
lects that  of  Florence  was  best  fitted  to  become  the  fundamental 
dement  in  the  formation  of  the  Italian  language.  More  than 
any  other  it  had  succeeded  in  combining  the  regularity,  the  pre- 
cision and  the  gravity  of  the  Latin  with  the  vital  characteristics 
of  a  living  tongue.  So,  evoked  from  the  chaos  of  dialects  and 
the  darkness  of  the  dead  Latin,  there  came  into  bdng  a  language 
whose  liquid  and  melodious  vocables  invite  like  limpid  waters, 
a  tongue  of  delicate  grace  and  of  tragic  accent.  With  the  work 
of  Lapo  Gianni,  Guido  Cavalcanti,  Cino  da  Pistoia,  and  others, 
the  Italian  language  was  ripe  for  a  literary  Renaissance,  and 
with  unparalleled  swiftness  the  literature  of  Italy  reached,  in  the 
great  epic  of  Dante,  the  greatest  height  it  ever  attained. 

There  are  but  few  events  in  the  life  of  Dante  degli  Alighieri 
(1265-132 1 )  of  which  we  have  certain  knowledge.  We  know 
that  he  was  bom  in  Florence,  that  his  youth  was  devoted  to 
study,  to  poetry,  and  to  the  affairs  of  public  Jif  e,  that  he  married  DMrtt 
Gennna  Donati  by  wh(»n  he  had  several  children,  that  because 
of  his  participation  in  political  matters  he  was  exiled  in  1302 
from  his  native  city,  that  for  twenty  years  he  was  a  wanderer 


78  THE  RENAISSANCE 


OHAP.  V  in  Italy  and  France,  knowing  the  salt  taste  of  patrons'  bread, 
1300-21  alternately  trembling  with  hope  and  disheartened  by  cnid  dis- 
illusions, and  that  he  died  at  Ravenna,  where  often  he  had  mused 
in  the  pine  forest  by  the  sea  and  where  his  remains  still  rest  far 
removed  from  the  city  of  his  birth,  which  he  loved  with  such 
passionate  intensity.  Dante  came  at  the  end  of  an  era,  but  be 
was  not  merely  the  last  great  writer,  the  last  great  personage, 
of  an  age.  The  deep  currents  of  life  that  were  silently  produc- 
ing a  profound  change  in  human  affairs  affected  his  thoughts, 
his  dreams,  and  his  deeds.  It  is  true  that  with  matchless  power 
he  summed  up  the  Age  of  Faith  in  his  great  epic ;  but  to  sum- 
marize an  era  is  to  end  it.  The  world  cannot  stand  still.  Life 
is  dynamic.  It  flows  on  ceaselessly,  forever  changing  in  its 
aspects  and  its  vision.  When  it  seems  to  stand  still  it  is  but  the 
end  of  an  oscillation  of  the  pendultmi.  Deep  as  was  the  sympa- 
thy of  Dante  with  the  Middle  Ages,  he  was  nevertheless  a  child 
of  the  new  birth.  In  his  poetry  individuality  is  supreme.  One 
of  the  most  striking  characteristics  of  the  Divine  Comedy  is  its 
autobiographical  element.    His  concern  with  the  secular  prob- 


Iqps  of  his  day  is  not  that^of  a  medievalist.  Anrt  i»  rrlifTion 
heheld  that  virtue  and  inner  peace  are  tn  hft  attainpH  hy  i^thiral 
rather  than  by  supernaturalmeans.  He  wished  to  bring  the 
world  back  to  a  way  of  thinking  that  was  far  older  than  the 
Middle  Ages.  He  wished  it  to  think  of  God  as  the  creator  and 
guide  of  hiunan  life,  and  of  heaven  as  the  ultimate  goal  of  man. 
He  saw  the  new  paths  that  were  opening  for  the  feet  of  men. 
He,  too,  was  possessed  with  a  zeal  for  knowledge.  He  was  the 
most  profound  scholar  of  his  time.  He  saw,  though  it  may  be 
but  dimly,  the  new  realms  of  knowledge  that  were  looming 
vaguely  along  the  horizon.  It  matters  not  that  he  saw  the  new 
world  but  indistinctly.  It  is  the  direction  of  a  man's  gaze  that 
is  of  chief  importance. 

Something  of  the  morning  freshness  of  the  time,  the  thrill  of 
awakening  life,  is  to  be  discerned  in  the  earliest  and  most  directly 
autobiographical  of  Dante's  writings.  The  New  Life.    What  is 
The  H«w     this  new  life  of  which  the  poet  writes  with  such  tenderness  and 
^^*  frank  simplicity,  whose  charm  it  is  impossible  not  to  fed?    Is 

it  simply  the  story  of  his  early  life?  Or  is  it  the  story  of  the 
new  life  revealed  to  him  by  the  poignant  experience  of  love? 
The  latter  seems  to  be  the  true  interpretation.  La  Vita  Nuova 
is  the  story  of  Dante's  life  sublimated  by  the  thaumaturgic 
presence  of  Beatrice.  It  does  not  recall  the  facts  of  the  poet's 
life  in  their  due  order,  but  it  rearranges  them  freely  and  always 
in  the  light  of  a  glowing  imagination  and  always  for  the  pur- 


•dy 


THE  REVIVAL  OF  LITERATURE  79 

pose  of  revealing  a  spiritual  thought.    And  under  this  story  of   ^^"^^'  ^ 

loye,  with  its  note  of  spiritual  ecstasy,  there  seems  to  be  the    isoo-ai 

story  of  a  soul  torn  with  a  conflict  between  faith  and  science, 

the  two  things  that  disputed  the  allegiance  of  every  thoughtful 

man  in  the  thirteenth  century.    Such,  it  would  seem,  is  the 

inner  meaning  of  this  book  with  the  enigmatic  title.    Turning 

from  the  subject-matter  to  the  form,  one  can  say  that  The  New 

Life  is  the  first  great  example  of  Italian  prose,  and  that  its  poems 

mark  a  great  advance  in  Italian  poetry. 

The  Divine  Comedy  is  one  of  the  great  epics  of  the  world. 
Embracing  as^it  does  not  merely  a  single  aspect  of  life  but  the  timdi. 
wh(Je  of  life  it  is  one  of  the  greatest  conceptions  that  ever  issued  ^Jj^oom- 
from  the  mind  of  man.  It  is  the  drama  of  the  soul.  Eternity 
is  involved  within  its  lines.  Written  in  the  last  years  of  Dante's 
life,  after  joy  and  sorrow  had  in  turn  come  to  him,  after  he  had 
labored  and  thought,  it  may  be  said  that  the  great  poem  is  the 
story  of  his  own  soul's  pilgrimage  written  in  characters  so  uni- 
versal as  to  possess  vitality  for  all  succeeding  ages.  His  actual 
mind  may  doubtless  be  seen  filled  with  bitterness  in  the  gloom  of 
the  Inferno,  calmed  by  reflection  in  the  Purgatorio,  and  lifted 
above  the  world  and  its  disappointments  in  the  Paradiso.  En- 
dowed with  the  keen  sense  of- his  race  for  reality,  Dante  wove 
his  tremendous  epic  about  himself  and  filled  it  with  the  details 
of  his  own  life  and  the  personages  of  his  own  time.  Beatrice 
sent  Vergil  to  guide  him  through  the  dread  scenes  of  Hell  and 
the  purifying  realms  of  Purgatory  to  Paradise.  The  story  of 
the  awful  journey  is  given  with  great  minuteness  of  detail.  For 
each  of  the  lost  souls  in  Hell  the  principal  motive  that  actuated 
him  upon  earth  has  become  his  inexorable  fate.  Against  that 
fate  the  character  of  the  individual  still  struggles.  In  the  midst 
of  hopeless  death  in  this  kingdom  of  everlasting  pain  each  is 
still  undefeated.  Instead  of  repenting,  the  damned  persist  in 
their  sins.  All  blaspheme  the  God  who  inflicted  punishment 
upon  them.  The  terrible  tragedy  of  the  poem  lies  in  the  fact 
that  this  struggle  is  in  vain.  Something,  too,  of  earth's  passion 
still  survives.  The  dwellers  in  the  black  wastes  of  Hell  retain 
the  loves  and  the  hatreds  of  their  earthly  lives.  This  place  of 
damnation  is,  then,  a  world  of  fatal  passions.  In  the  Purgatory 
each  soul  remembers  his  earthly  life  dimly  as  a  dream.  But 
each  is  concerned  with  his  former  life  only  because  of  its  conse- 
quences. The  hostilities  of  the  bygone  days  are  forgotten. 
Each  soul  is  animated  with  the  single  passion  of  repentance. 
This  place  of  penance  is  a  world  of  contrite  sorrow.  Yet  this 
place  of  expiation  ia  illuminated  by  the  assurance  of  ultimate 


8o  THE  RENAISSANCE 


^^^^^  salvation,  and  so  it  has  a  brooding  peace.  The  souls  are  jayivl 
1800-21  in  the  midst  of  the  flames,  for  they  can  sin  no  more,  and  are 
sure  of  obtaining  in  due  time  eternal  felicity.  The  Paradise^ 
with  its  radiant  and  celestial  imagery,  is  a  world  of  rarefied  air, 
too  thin  for  mortals  to  breathe.  In  it  there  is  no  force  of  indi- 
vidual character.  Each  soul,  steeped  in  the  beatitude  of  the 
Divine  Presence,  is  simply  a  reflection  of  the  divine  love,  a  single 
note  in  the  divine  harmony.  This  place  of  beatitude  is  a  worid 
of  perfect  accordance  with  the  will  of  God.  The  Divine  Come^ 
may  also  be  regarded  not  as  a  description  of  the  future  world, 
but  as  one  of  the  existing  spiritual  world  with  its  diree  states 
of  sin,  trial,  and  beatitude.  The  poem  is  called'a  "comedy** 
from  the  fact  that  the  pilgrimage  is  not  a  tragedy  ending  m 
death,  but  a  story  "  issuing  in  triumphant  life,"  and  from  certain 
external  and  less  important  characteristics,  such  as  the  (act  of 
its  being  written  in  the  vernacular.  The  epithet  of  "  divine  '* 
was  given  to  the  poem  by  its  admirers  among  whom  was  Boc- 
caccio. There  are  large  tracts  of  the  great  epic  which  are  not 
poetry  at  all,  but  merely  sections  of  scholastic  philosophy,  such 
as  the  explanation  of  the  Thomist  doctrine  of  love,  or  medieval 
science,  such  as  the  explanation  of  the  spots  on  the  moon,  fcnrced 
into  rime;  sections  of  matter  that  the  poet  failed  to  melt  and 
fuse  with  his  emotion  and  to  subordinate  with  the  power  of  his 
imagination.  These  intrusions  of  tedious  and  prosaic  passages 
are  now  no  more  than  records  of  a  vanished  civilization.  It  is 
impossible  adequately  to  indicate  here  the  wonderful  beauty  of 
The  Divine  Comedy,  the  remarkable  vividness  of  its  personages, 
the  canorous  melody  of  its  majestic  lines,  the  lurid  glare  that 
illuminates  some  of  the  scenes,  the  soft  pervasive  glow  in  which 
others  are  steeped,  the  touching  conception  of  human  lov^  the 
delicacy  of  heart,  the  pity,  the  tenderness,  t)ie  exquisite  sadness, 
its  beautiful  descriptions  of  nature  that  are  so  often  touched  with 
tears.  Dante's  mission  was  to  show  "  how  the  soul  of  man,  lost 
in  the  mazes  of  life  and  defeated  by  the  fierceness  of  its  own 
passions,  can  learn  its  peril,  escape  from  the  stain  and  power  of 
sin,  and  enter  into  perfect  blessedness,"  that  the  foes  of  man 
are  not  the  adverse  accidents  of  his  history  but  his  own  tumultu- 
ous passions,  and  that  it  is  possible  for  every  one  to  change  his 
life  from  the  darkest  tragedy  to  the  most  glorious  comedy. 
This  message  he  uttered  in  a  clear  and  penetrating  voice.  It  is 
the  message  of  a  lonely  spirit,  whose  vision  was  as  vast  as  time 
itself. 

The  reader  who  turns  from  Dante  to  Petrarch  is  like  a  man 
who  comes  suddenly  into  a  drawing-room  lighted  by  wax  candles 


THE  REVIVAL  OF  LITERATURE  8i 

liter  a  walk  through  a  great  autumnal  forest  which  the  setting  ohap.  v 
son  had  filled  with  red-litten  spaces  and  mysterious  shadow.  i82i-7i 
The  wild  and  somber  beauty  is  left  behind,  but  the  chamber 
is  exquisitdy  furnished  and  admirably  proportioned.  Up  to 
Petrarch  (1304-74),  the  world  was  essentially  medieval.  It  is 
with  him  that  the  modem  world  begins.  Some  of  his  prede- 
cessors ^erc  fore-runners  of  the  Renaissance;  but  he  may  be 
said  to  be  its  founder.  Some  of  the  scholars  who  had  preceded 
him  had  looked  at  the  world  from  the  modem  point  of  view,  but 
it  was  their  own  exclusive  possession  and  private  practice.  They 
did  not  amimunicy<;f  i»  tn  finri>^  yt  lafpri*  Not  one  of  them 
had  been  able  to  make  it  a  power  in  the  world  by  kindling  the 
zeal  and  quickening  the  souls  of  his  contemporaries.  But 
PetrarA  inspired^  oth(grsm)t  merely  to  read  ancient  literature, 
but  to  fljimk  as  the  GreeksTiad  thought,  to  think  as  modern  men 

itanlt^Jtt^j^  tn  nature*  in  thp  spirit  VvffT^ppjnq^^  inr  ihe'li^ta. 

of  one's  promses^'jbVrktt^  to  appraisejthe  things  of  life  at^ 
Acir  Just  i^ue  by  means  of^tfie  cnticarTaciiTtjr  which  had  been" 
ignored  all  through  the  Middle  Ages,  to  see  something  of  the 
batoty  and Jhf  nnbility  of  the  wnrlf^,  tn  ri^garH  ^h^  prpspnt  life 
as  wfirfhy  of  investigation  and  improvement.  It  is  not  alto- 
Setho^an  exaggeration  to  say  that  he  wa^the  first  modem  man, 
diat  he  was  the  founder  of  humanism.  Some  quality  of  his 
spirit  enabled  him  to  spread  among  men  the  contagion  of  the 
new  attitude  towards  life  and  to  make  it  a  living  force.  It  is 
m  this  rather  than  in  his  poetry,  exquisite  as  are  so  many  of  his 
sonnets,  that  his  historical  importance  lies.  It  is  with  him  and 
in  his  (ime  that  the  Renaissance  takes  definite  shape,  with  its 
many-ccdored  lights  and  its  sinister  shadows,  with  its  vital  and 
tcrsatile  spirit,  its  squalor  and  its  nobleness,  its  cruelty  and  its 
refinement,  with  its  richness  and  its  splendor,  at  times  so  gor- 
geous and  at  times  so  baleful. 

Yet  it  is  as  the  author  of  a  series  of  beautiful  lyric  poems  that 
Petrarch  is  best  known.  His  love  for  Laura,  her  of  the  golden 
hair  and  beautiful  eyes,  whom  history  has  failed  to  reveal,  seems 
to  have  been  the  most  critical  of  his  personal  experiences.  It 
seems  to  have  touched  his  nature  to  a  larger  and  a  fuller  life. 
It  is,  however,  merely  with  the  poems  themselves  that  we  are 
here  concerned,  with  their  masterly  technique,  their  interpene- 
tration  of  sense  and  of  sound  that  approaches  the  condition  of 
music,  their  delicacy  of  expression,  their  moving  melody,  and 
tile  wide  range  of  feeling  they  portray.  But  the  art  of  these 
tomiets  is  greater  than  their  thought.  One  looks  in  vain  for 
tite  impress  of  distinguished  mentsd  quality.    The  discipline  of 


82 


OHAF.  V 
lS21-7« 


THE  RENAISSANCE 


Boccaccio 


hopeless  love  brought  to  the  poet  neither  wisdwn  nor  consola- 
tion. At  the  end  one  finds  him  as  lachrymose  and  as  sentimental 
as  at  the  beginning.  Such  a  finished  and  musical  expression  of 
love  will  always  claim  attention.  The  sonnets  will  remain  a 
landmark  in  Italian  literature  because  of  their  intrinsic  merits 
and  because  of  their  contribution  to  the  development  of  the 
Italian  language.  But  it  is  as  the  chief  "  initiator  of  the  Renais- 
sance" that  Petrarch's  fame  grows  with  our  increasing  knowl- 
edge of  the  potent  influences  which  he  exerted  at  one  of  the 
most  critical  periods  of  the  world's  history. 

Into  his  great  epic  Dante  brought  the  macrocosm^f  the  urn- 
verse.  For  the  subject  of  his  sonnets  Petrarch  chose  the  micro- 
cosm of  man's  inner  life.  Boccaccio  wrote  of  the  outward  and 
the  common  life  of  his  day.  The  first  of  this  triumvirate  sai^ 
of  heaven  and  hell,  the  second  of  the  recesses  of  the  heart  and 
the  sanctuary  of  the  soul,  the  third  of  the  city  streets  and  the 
gardens  of  country  villas.  Several  things  contribute  to  the 
importance  of  Boccaccio  (1313-75).  He  made  adventures  in 
different  directions  and  was  something  of  an  innovator.  His 
Filocopo  indicates  the  transition  from  the  medieval  metrkpl 
romance  to  the  prose  novel  of  modem  times.  His  Ameto  is 
the  first  definite  pastoral  romance  this  side  of  the  Middle  Ages. 
It  opened  one  of  the  most  delightful  veins  of  literature.  His 
Fiammetta,  an  introspective  and  subjective  story,  burning  with 
passion,  perhaps  the  most  striking  picture  of  the  passions  of 
love  which  the  Renaissance  knew,  pointed  out  a  field,  that  of 
the  psychological  novel,  destined  to  remain  practically  unculti- 
vated for  a  long  time.  But  the  popularity  of  Boccaccio  rests 
upon  the  Decameron,  a  book  such  as  one  might  expect  from  its 
author.  Boccaccio  was  far  less  imbued  with  the  classic  spirit 
than  was  Petrarch.  His  mind  lacked  the  elevation  and  his  char- 
acter the  reserve  and  the  dignity  of  the  older  scholar.  He  was 
much  more  of  an  Italian  of  his  day.  He  delighted  in  the  move- 
ment, the  gaiety  and  the  license  of  the  polished  and  vivacious 
court  of  Naples,  where  his  youth  was  spent,  and  where  he 
divided  his  time  not  altogether  impartially  between  literature 
and  the  ladies.  If  the  tragic  accent  of  life  fell  upon  his  ears  its 
echo  soon  died  away.  It  was  the  romantic  aspect  of  life  that 
arrested  and  held  his  attention.  He  was  an  artist  who  delighted 
in  the  shifting  panorama  of  life,  from  which,  and  from  old 
romances,  he  gathered  material  for  his  stories.  Invention  is 
to  be  found  in  the  Decameron  in  the  variety  of  incident  and  the 
skilf ulness  of  some  of  the  plots ;  and  the  narrative  is  often  witty. 
But  one  looks  in  vain  through  all  the  hundred  stories  for  a  single 


THE  REVIVAL  OF  LITERATURE  83 

toadk  of  poetry.    Imagination  and  eloquence  one  shall  find,  but  QgAP.  ▼ 
not  poetry.    Most  of  the  characters  are  mere  masks.    They  are    1S21-74 
mere  marionettes,  though  it  is  true  they  are  moved  by  the  hand 
of  a  master.    It  is  but  a  few  of  them,  such  as  Ser  Ciappelletto 
aod  the  Ferate  CipoUa,  that  appeal  to  us  as  living  personages. 
There  are  no  heights  and  there  are  no  depths.    Love  is  the  most 
frequent  theme,  but  it  is  not  love  in  any  high  and  noble  sense. 
And  it  is  not  merely  the  failure  to  regard  love  in  snyihmg  but 
its  lowest  phase  that  one  misses,  but  the  lack  of  all  the  things 
that  vitally  concern  human  society.    Only  very  seldom  does  one 
find  stories  touched  with  tragedy,  or  heroism,  or  generosity,  or 
courtesy,  such  as  those  of  the  fourth  and  the  tenth  days.    The 
greatest  defect  of  the  book,  however,  is  its  licentiousness.    It  is 
customary  to  excuse  this  by  pointing  to  the  social  standards  of 
the  time.     Dante,  of  course,  stood  far  above  his  world  in  ethical 
purity,  but  Petrarch  could  write  of  love  with  delicacy  and  refine- 
ment, and  in  a  far  less  civilized  land,  in  a  society  more  barren 
of  resources,  Chaucer,  although  of  the  earth  earthy,  could  touch 
the  many  stops  of  emotion  and  passion  without  constantly  revel- 
ing in  obscene  bufiFoonery.    The  Decameron  has  a  beautiful 
framework,  a  lovely  mise  en  seine,  in  which  the  art  of  the  author 
ahnost  wholly  resides.    It  bubbles  with  merriment,  and  its  style 
is  one  of  exceptional  beauty.    But  its  lack  of  nobility  of  thought 
prevents  it  from  being  a  great  book. 

Petrarch  became  the  initiator  of  the  Renaissance  by  inspiring 
others  with  the  spirit  of  the  classical  world,  by  inculcating  an 
ideal  of  life  that  fostered  the  emancipation  of  the  individual. 
This  he  did  chiefly  through  the  medium  of  Latin,  and  so  he  had 
for  his  followers  the  scholars  of  the  various  countries  of  Europe. 
Boccaccio  diffused  the  humanistic  spirit  among  the  middle  class 
of  Italy  by  giving  it  expression  in  the  Italian  language.  It  was  oh*iietr 
a  similar  service  that  Chaucer  (i335?-i4CX))  did  for  England. 
Xo  other  poet  of  hb  age  in  any  land  was  so  well-fitted  for  popu- 
larity as  Chaucer.  Though  he  is  at  times  too  garrulous  and 
loi^-winded  for  modem  readers  he  is  brevity  itself  compared 
with  medieval  romancers.  His  stories  are  told  with  a  singular 
directness,  his  limited  power  of  imagery  does  not  find  vesture 
in  ailusive  and  difficult  metaphor  but  is  confined  to  explicit 
similes.  He  is  a  master  both  of  broad  humor  and  sly,  subdued 
pleasantry;  and  his  pathos,  far  less  frequent  than  his  laughter, 
is  ahrays  true  and  tender.  He  is  concerned  with  deeds  and  not 
widi  meditation.  He  is  lucid,  shrewd,  cheerful,  content  with 
life  as  he  found  it,  and  filled  with  its  zest  He  is  full  of  an  un- 
filing freshness.    He  has  a  confiding  felicity,  and  he  reveals 


84 


THE  RENAISSANCE 


^^g^^'^  here  and  there  a  quality  rarely  found  in  the  literature  of 
1874-1484  time  —  intimacy.  Unexcelled  until  Shakespeare's  day  r 
variety  of  his  diaracters  and  the  skill  exhibited  in  their  po; 
he  was  the  best  story-teller  of  the  whole  Renaissance  period^ 
is  still  unsurpassed  as  a  writer  of  humorous  narrative  vei^ 
Chaucer  created  a  literary  style  in  England  where  before  vdi 
had  existed.  He  extended  Uie  range  of  the  literary  interol 
He  portrayed  aspects  of  life  which  the  poets  of  chivalry  b 
ignored.  He  did  not  reveal  the  labor  and  the  sorrows  of  ll 
lower  classes,  the  down-trodden  peasantry.  One  has  to  go  * 
the  Vision  of  Piers  the  Plowman  for  their  distressful  tal 
But  of  the  weavers,  the  dyers,  the  millers,  the  carpenters,  4 
sheriffs,  the  friars,  and  their  like,  he  wrote  many  a  realistic  ai 
not  tmsympathetic  story.  In  this  and  in  many  another  thing  I 
was  essentially  modern.  The  course  of  the  Renaissance  in  Ed) 
land,  which  he  did  much  to  inaugurate,  was,  however,'  inti 
rupted  by  social  and  political  events,  by  the  ravages  of  the  Bhi 
Death,  by  the  dynastic  civil  war  that  ended  with  the  murder  i 
Richard  II,  and  by  the  still  more  disastrous  Wars  of  the  Roii 
Even  without  these  obstacles  its  growth  would  have  been  skr 
for  the  soil  of  England  was  far  less  prepared  for  such  a  se 
than  war  that  of  Italy. 

The  Italian  language  had  been  used  by  Dante,  Petrarch,  ai 
Boccaccio.  Its  scope  and  its  diversity  had  been  demonstrate 
It  had  proved  capable  of  expressing  the  widest  range  of  fedii 
from  the  most  exalted  emotion  to  the  most  profane  ribaldry, 
had  given  expression  not  only  to  the  primary  impulses  of  ma 
but  also  to  the  most  delicate  shades  of  his  feeling.  It  could  I 
claim  to  be  the  fitting  and  adequate  vehicle  of  a  great  natioii 
literature.  But  the  attention  and  interest  of  scholars  was  th 
turned  to  a  revival  of  classical  letters,  and  so  far  as  literatu 
in  Italian  is  concerned  a  sort  of  literary  interregntmi  ensue 
All  through  the  Middle  Ages  the  Latin  language  had  exists 
though  in  a  degenerate  form.  It  was  the  language  of  the  weste 
church,  and  it  was  the  language  of  men  of  culture  in  all  parts  « 
western  Christendom.  Instruction  in  the  schools  and  lawsui 
in  both  the  civil  and  canonical  courts  were  conducted  in  it  ai 
commerce  transacted.  The  libraries  of  such  great  monaster! 
as  those  of  Monte  Cassino  and  Bobbio  were  rich  in  dass 
authors.  The  Italians  cherished  a  love  for  Vergil  thro 
the  medieval  centuries.  And  Greek  was  not  unlm 
thing  of  Aristotle  and  of  other  Hellenic  writers  the  Middle 
always  possessed.  Each  succeeding  medieval  centt^y,  moreovc 
Tegalntd  something  more  than  its  predecessors  possessed  of  tl 


ZAttBUld 

OttlkiM 

tlMlCMdto 


THE  REVIVAL  OP  LITERATURE  85 

lost  inheritance  of  the  classic  past.  But  the  names  from  the  litera-  obaf^v 
tores  of  Greece  and  Rome  Uiat  lingered  throughout  the  Middle  i874*i484 
Ages  were  only  imperfect  memories,  echoes  of  echoes,  distorted 
ooocqitions,  ''  phantoms  whereof  the  positive  historic  truth  was 
lost"  Men  did  not  read  the  ancient  authors  in  order  to  obtain 
knowledge  of  the  civilization  of  antiquity,  nor  with  the  desire 
of  improving  the  conditions  of  their  own  time  by  means  of  the 
coitore  of  the  past  They  read  them  only  for  the  purpose  of 
medieval  thought.  They  heard  but  the  murmur  of  classical  cul- 
ture reverberating  ever  fainter  and  fainter  in  the  cloisters  of 
their  medieval  monasteries.  They  did  not  dream  that  within 
the  yellow  pages  of  those)%>ld  manuscripts  was  to  be  found  a 
talisman  tnat  could  exercise*  a  potent  power  in  the  creation  of  a 
new  world.  So,  although  Greek  and  Latin  writings  were  by  no 
means  unknown  in  the  Middle  Ages,  although  as  time  went  on 
more  and  more  of  them  were  recovered,  they  had  little  effect 
upon  the  life  of  that  time.  The  capacity  for  understanding 
them  was  in  abeyance.  And  for  the  most  part  they  were  to  be 
found  only  in  the  hands  of  men  who  were  antagonistic  to  their 
spirit 

Dante  ¥rrote  in  Latin.    But  his  writings  in  that  language  have 

always  the  air  of  a  literary  exercise.    They  lack  the  stamp  of 

personality.    As  we  have  seen,  Petrarch  did  much  to  spread 

knowledge  of  the  classic  authors.    He  recaptured  their  spirit,  he  pttnoen 

instilled  it  into  others,  and  he  did  much  towards  making  it  one  JJLJiJj^ 

of  the  most  powerftd  forces  of  the  time.    "Vergil,  Horace, 

Livy,  and  Cicero.    These,"  he  said  in  writing  to  Boccaccio,  "  I 

have  read  and  re-read,  not  once,  but  a  thousand  times,  not 

cursorily,  but  studiously  and  intently,  bringing  to  them  the  best 

powers  of  my  mind.    I  tasted  in  the  morning  and  digested  at 

nigfat    I  quaffed  as  a  boy,  to  rtuninate  as  an  old  man.    These 

works  have  become  so  familiar  to  me  that  they  cling  not  to  my 

taemofrj  merely,  but  to  the  very  marrow  of  my  bones.    They 

have  become  so  identified  with  my  own  genius  that,  even  were 

I  never  to  read  them  again,  they  would  still  be  there  rooted  in 

the  deq>est  recesses  of  my  soul."    Petrarch  had  a  fine  sense  of 

litcraiy  style.    In  speaking  of  his  study  of  Cicero  when  a  boy, 

be  said:    **  At  that  time  I  could  not  understand  what  I  read,  but 

the  sweetness  of  the  language  and  the  majesty  of  the  cadences 

cnchaated  me  so  that  whatever  else  I  read  or  heard  sounded 

harsh  in  my  ears  and  quite  discordant."    He  was  the  first 

hmnahist  who  assiduously  collected  Latin  manuscripts,  inscrip- 

tioos  and  coins.    "  Whenever  I  took  a  journey,"  he  writes,  "  I 

vonld  torn  aside  to  any  old  monasteries  that  I  chanced  to  see 


86 


THE  RENAISSANCE 


OHAP.  V  in  the  distance,  saying  that  possibly  some  scraps  of  the  writings 
1874*1484  I  courted  might  lie  hidden  there."  After  the  middle  of  his  life 
he  was  seldom  without  a  copyist  or  two  in  his  house,  and  at  times 
he  had  as  many  as  four,  making  copies  of  the  manuscripts  that 
he  had  discovered  or  borrowed,  and  he  did  not  a  little  of  this 
work  himself.  His  life-long  devotion  to  Cicero  and  his  burning 
zeal  in  the  collection  of  classical  manuscripts  were  rewarded  by 
the  singularly  happy  accident  of  his  discovery  of  Cicero's  private 
correspondence  with  Atticus  in  a  dusty  library  at  Verona.  His 
own  attempts  at  literature  in  Latin,  successful  as  they  were,  need 
not  detain  us  here.  It  was  not  merely  classical  manuscripts  and 
a  better  mastery  of  Latin  style  that  Petrarch  restored  to  the 
modem  world.  His  chief  service  was  the  revival  of  the  lost 
faculty  of  intelligence,  the  lost  power  of  sympathetic  appreci- 
ation of  those  writings,  the  lost  attitude  towards  life  of  the 
pagan  world.  At  his  touch  the  spirit  of  that  bygone  time  arose 
from  the  grave  and  together  with  what  was  retained  of  the  Age 
of  Faith  furnished  a  new  ideal  for  men  to  follow.  One  of  the 
most  ardent  of  Petrarch's  followers  in  devotion  to  the  Latin 
classics,  and  one  of  his  most  diligent  assistants  as  a  collector, 
was  Boccaccio.  He  wrote  a  good  deal  in  Latin,  though  his  work 
in  that  line  has  little  value.  He  acquired  a  wide  acquaintance 
of  the  Latin  poets,  but  he  was  not  so  deeply  interested  in  the 
spirit  of  Latin  literature  as  was  Petrarch,  being  concerned  chiefly 
with  minor  matters  of  style. 

The  revival  of  Latin  letters  was  carried  on  by  wandering 
teachers  who  went  from  city  to  city  communicating  their  zeal 
to  different  groups  of  students.  First  among  these  was  Giovanni 
da  Ravenna  (i346?-i4o6)  who  succeeded  in  arousing  in  his 
pupils  a  passion  for  Latin  literature,  especially  for  the  writings 
of  Cicero.  Among  his  pupils  were  the  foremost  teachers  of  the 
succeeding  generation.  Gasparino  da  Barzizza  (i370?-i43i) 
after  teaching  in  Pavia,  Venice,  Padua,  and  Ferrara,  settled  in 
Milan.  He  was  especially  successful  in  developing  a  new  style 
of  epistolary  Latin  imparting  to  it  something  of  the  careless 
grace  of  refined  conversation.  He  was  the  first  apostle  of  that 
Ciceronianism  of  which  we  shall  see  more  later  on.  The  man 
who  may  be  regarded  as  the  founder  of  a  new  system  of  educa- 
tion based  upon  the  ideals  of  humanism  is  Vittorino  da  Feltre 
(1378-1446).  Under  the  patronage  of  Gian  Francesco  Gonzaga, 
Marquis  of  Mantua,  he  established  a  school  in  which  he  carriec 
on  a  broad  system  of  education.  He  aimed  to  develop  all  the 
faculties  of  his  pupils,  intellectual,  moral,  and  physical,  and  to 
make  them  good  and  influential  members  of  society.    Noble 


TbeWtn- 
darinc 
Ttachera 
of  Lfttlii 


THE  REVIVAL  OF  LITERATURE  87 

jOa&s  from  all  the  courts  of  Italy  came  to  his  school,  but  all  QgAP.  v 
of  his  sixty  or  seventy  scholars  were  placed  under  exactly  the  i874-i4M 
same  discipline.  The  Latin  classics  were  made  the  basis  of  the 
intellectiial  training.  They  were  taught  in  a  large  and  liberal 
spirit  that  stimulated  the  interest  of  the  students.  The  long  list 
of  the  pupils  who  attended  this  school  shows  how  great  was  its 
influence  upon  the  times. 

Meanwhile  the  quest  for  classical  manuscripts,  inaugurated  by 
Petrarch,  who  had  discovered  two  speeches  of  Cicero  at  Liege 
and  his  letters  at  Verona,  went  on  unabated.  Boccaccio  dis- 
covered writings  by  Ovid,  Martial,  Ausonius,  and  other  Latin  Th«8eAreb 
authors.  Salutato  recovered  writings  by  Cato,  Maximianus,  ^SSu-' 
Gennanicus,  Pompeius,  and  the  Familiar  Letters  of  Cicero,  scripts 
When  the  Council  of  Constance  was  convened  agents  of  the 
papal  curia  carried  on  a  most  industrious  search  for  manuscripts 
in  the  libraries  of  central  and  northern  Europe.  Poggio  and  his 
assistants  found  more  writings  by  Cicero,  a  complete  copy  of 
Quintilian's  Institutions,  some  of  the  works  of  Valerius  Flaccus, 
Asconius,  Priscian,  Vitruvtus,  Vegetius,  Pompeius  Festus,  Lu- 
cretius, Manilius,  Silius  Italicus,  Ammianus  Marcellinus,  Colu- 
mella, Petronius,  and  the  grammarians  Caper,  Eutyches,  and 
Probus.  In  an  old  chest  the  bishop  of  Lodi  discovered  still  more 
writings  by  Cicero.  The  History  and  the  Annals  of  Tacitus 
were  recovered,  and  writings  by  Celsus,  Gellius,  Curtius,  Plautus, 
Frontinus,  Cornelius  Nepos,  Donatus,  Suetonius,  Pliny,  Porphy- 
rio  and  other  Latin  authors.  The  most  obscure  monasteries 
and  diurch  libraries  were  ransacked  in  the  hope  that  some  for- 
gotten document  containing  the  dearly  prized  lore  of  classic 
times  might  be  found. 

It  must  not  be  imagined  that  humanism,  this  new  learning,  \ 
or  rather  this  new  attitude  towards  life,  was  accepted  immedi- 
atdy,  universally,  and  without  question  by  scholars  who  had 
been  trained  in  other  lines  of  thought.    The  aim  of  humanism  HnBumiim 
was  to  interest  men  in  all  things  pertaining  to  human  life,  to  ***"**"* 
destroy  the  shackles  which  medieval  authority  had  imposed  upon 
the  mind  of  man.     It  lacked  the  piercing  spiritual  vision  of  the 
Age  of  Faith ;  but,  in  its  purest  form,  it  was  by  no  means  devoid 
of  the  element  of  religion.     It  sought  to  unite  the  feeling  for 
beauty  with  the  spirit  of  religious  exaltation,  not  in  moods  of 
rapture  and  ecstasy,  but  in  a  manner  more  expressive  of  the 
iu&f  2nd  normal  life  of  man.     It  was  a  revolutionary  movement 
having  for  its  purpose  the  liberation  of  thought.     It  emphasized 
the  ideal  of  the  self-development  and  individual  responsibility  of 
as  opposed  to  the  ideal  of  self-surrender  and  vicarious  re- 


88  THE  RENAISSANCE 


OHAP.  ▼  demption.  It  sought  to  break  the  bonds  of  medieval  religi< 
1374*1484  to  break  the  fetters  of  medieval  philosophy,  and  it  therefi 
met  with  opposition  from  the  representatives  of  that  religi 
and  that  philosophy.  Medieval  religion  had  depreciated  hunr 
nature,  while  humanism  sought  to  rehabilitate  it.  Scholastici^ 
as  we  have  seen,  was  concerned  with  the  processes  of  lo{ 
while  humanism  was  concerned  with  the  concrete  realities 
life.  At  first  the  jurists,  doctors,  grammarians  and  theologi; 
of  the  universities  were  mostly  hostile  to  hiunanism.  It  is  o: 
in  our  own  time  that  schools  have  endeavored  to  give  new  thouj 
to  the  world.  At  the  dawn  of  the  Renaissance  the  universil 
were  merely  the  custodians  of  the  truth  that  was  already  kno\ 
and  their  sole  function  was  to  pass  the  accumulated  lore  on 
the  succeeding  generations.  They  were  not  the  cradle  of  1 
new  intellectual  activity  that  was  effecting  such  momentc 
changes.  Nor  was  htmianism  brought  in  by  a  sweeping  ma 
ment  of  the  popular  mind.  In  the  beginning  it  depended  u[ 
powerful  and  wealthy  patrons  who  gave  aid  to  the  htrniani 
and  enabled  them  to  secure  audiences  in  the  various  Ital; 
cities.  It  made  its  way  slowly  at  first.  It  had  to  pass  throv 
a  militant  period.  Petrarch  made  war  upon  the  scholast 
whose  learning  filled  him  with  sovereign  contempt.  All  his  1 
long  he  protested  against  them  and  boldly  assailed  the  medie 
tradition.  In  its  beginning  htmianism  was  more  of  a  religi 
than  a  science.  It  derived  its  moral  force  from  the  emotic 
rather  than  from  the  intellect.  The  hiunanists  were  filled  w 
a  yearning  love  for  the  wisdom  of  the  past.  They  were  imbt 
with  s)rmpathy  for  the  attitude  towards  life  of  antiquity.  Tl 
saw  once  again,  as  did  the  Greeks  of  old,  the  divine  rendei 
visible  in  the  human;  and  they  believed  that  self-control  rati 
than  self-sacrifice  is  the  way  of  life.  But  they  were  not  as  ] 
animated  solely  by  the  sober  curiosity  of  the  scientist.  1 
medieval  and  humanistic  ideals  are  irreconcilable  and  mutua 
exclusive.  One  or  the  other  of  them  had  to  give  way.  In  t 
struggle  that  ensued  it  was  the  former  that  succumbed.  It 
true  that  scholasticism,  which  for  four  centuries  had  dominal 
the  thought  of  Europe,  did  not  receive  its  death-blow  until  t 
Epistolce  Obscurorum  Virorum  were  published  (1515-17),  \ 
it  b^;an  to  yield  with  the  first  attacks  of  the  humanists. 
Somewhat  later  there  came  a  revival  of  Greek  letters.  It  w 
TiiaB«vi.  a  revival  that  had  the  greatest  importance.  But  the  value  r^ 
o^tk  Ltt-  ^^vival  of  Latin  letters  should  not  be  underestimated.  P  ] 
ten  literature  is  not  merely  imitative  of  that  of  Greece.    The  Bjl^ 

poets  adapted  as  well  as  adopted  the  forms  of  their  p^f  ( 


\ 


THE  REVIVAL  OF  LITERATURE  89 

iDodds.  Their  age  was  something  more  than  a  mere  echo  of  the  ohap^t 
golden  days  of  Hellas.  The  Odes  of  Horace,  for  instance,  1874-ia84 
are  far  more  in  spirit  and  even  more  in  form  than  mere  copies 
from  the  Greek.  Rome,  quite  as  much  as  Greece,  was  the 
foundress  of  modem  civilization.  Greece  was  affected  very 
laigcly  by  Oriental  influences,  and  in  some  things  she  had  re- 
mahied  very  largely  Oriental.  Then,  too,  because  of  its  lofty 
idealism  and  indifference  to  biographical  details,  Greek  litera- 
ture has  an  impersonal  character;  it  is  lacking  in  individual 
traits.  Latin  literature,  on  the  other  hand,  does  not  rise  to  so 
sublime  a  height,  and  is  informed  with  a  greater  interest  in  the 
duly  life  of  man.  The  Renaissance,  therefore,  obtained  from 
the  Greeks  literary  models  and  philosophical  ideas;  while  irom 
the  Romans  it  learned  much  r^^arding  the  living  man  himself. 
It  was  instinct  at  first  rather  than  knowledge  that  led  scholars 
to  divine  the  importance  of  Hellenic  thought  Petrarch  had  a 
▼ague  knowledge  of  Plato  through  Augustine,  and  of  Homer 
tfaiocigfa  Vergil,  and  he  ardently  desired  to  read  them  in  their 
original  language.  So  he  studied  Greek,  first  with  Barlaamo  and 
later  on  in  Venice.  But  he  never  succeeded  in  acquiring  a  read- 
ing knowledge  of  it.  Yet  despite  his  own  failure  to  acquire 
the  key  to  the  literature  of  Hellas,  he  urged  others  to  undertake 
the  study  of  Greek.  It  was  upon  his  advice  that  Boccaccio  took 
iq>  the  study.  The  author  of  the  Decameron  chose  Pilato  for 
a  master  and  secured  his  installation  in  the  University  of  Flor- 
ence in  the  first  chair  of  Greek  in  Italy.  It  was  an  exceedingly 
£fiicnlt  matter  to  study  Greek  at  this  time.  There  were  no  Greek 
grammars  or  dictionaries  written  in  Latin  or  in  any  of  the  Ro- 
mance or  Teutonic  languages.  The  only  way  in  which  a  west- 
em  European  could  acquire  something  of  Greek  grammar  and 
vocabulary  was  through  a  Greek-speaking  teacher.  Greek  sailors 
and  traders  were  to  be  found  in  the  seaports  of  the  Mediter- 
nmean,  but  they  spoke  a  patois,  and  they  were  without  scholarly 
knowledge  of  ancient  Greek.  Even  in  Constantinople  men  with 
such  knowledge  were  rare.  Yet  it  was  these  men  from  the  van- 
ishing Byzantine  Empire  who  revived  in  the  Occident  the  forgot- 
ten knowledge  of  the  Hellenic  past.  First  of  them  was  Bar- 
laamo, a  Calabrian  monk  who  had  long  resided  in  G>nstantinople 
and  who  returned  to  Italy  on  one  of  those  fruitless  missions  to 
obtain  help  for  the  Eastern  Empire  against  the  Turks.  Pilato, 
Vtfo  was  also  a  native  of  Calabria  who  had  gone  to  live  in  Con- 
m^otinople,  knew  little  more  than  the  Greek  that  was  then  cur- 
kAt  m  the  Byzantine  capital.  Yet  so  great  was  the  dearth  of 
^Jfqnilf  teachers  that,  as  we  have  just  noted,  he  was  made  the 


i 


90  THE  RENAISSANCE 


OHAP.  ▼  first  professor  of  Greek  in  a  western  university.  The  first  t£- 
(t74.i484  f  ective  teacher  of  Greek  in  Italy  was  Manuel  Chrysoloras  ( 1350?- 
1415),  another  of  those  agents  of  the  Byzantine  Empire  who  had 
come  to  implore  aid  against  the  conquering  infidels.  He  was  a 
man  of  wide  learning,  a  gentle-hearted  visionary  given  to  medi- 
tation, who  proved  to  be  a  sympathetic  and  inspiring  teacher. 
He  was  induced  to  teach  at  Florence  and  began  his  work  there 
in  1397.  An  extraordinary  crowd  of  students  thronged  to  hear 
his  lectures.  He  also  taught  at  Pavia,  Milan,  Venice,  and  Rome. 
Italians  were  given  for  the  first  time  a  scholarly  and  sympathetic 
presentation  of  Greek  culture.  Above  all  else  in  importance 
Chrysoloras  brought  with  him  the  intellectual  contagion  which  is 
characteristic  of  the  Greek  spirit.  The  charm  of  Hellas  began 
to  work  again.  Men  received  new  inspiration  in  their  quest  for 
a  new  manner  of  living,  a  new  ideal  of  life.  Trapezuntios  ( 1395- 
1484),  another  of  the  Greek  schoolmasters,  came  to  Italy  about 
1420.  He  taught  at  Florence  and  Rome,  among  other  places, 
and  he  worked  at  the  papal  court  as  a  translator  of  Aristotle  and 
Plato.  Gradually  a  new  world  opened  to  the  Italians,  one  in 
which,  even  more  than  in  the  days  of  the  Roman  civilization,  men 
lived  in  happy  communion  with  nature,  whose  pleasures  they 
enjoyed  without  question,  and  whose  secrets  they  explored  with- 
out fear. 

The  advance  of  the  Turks  sent  a  stream  of  Greek  exiles  into 
the  west.  Not  all  of  them  were  of  much  use  in  the  revival  of 
Greek  letters.  Some  of  them  were  not  men  of  letters,  and  many 
of  those  who  were  scholars  were  ignorant  of  Latin  and  had  only 
a  smattering  of  Italian.  But  their  presence  was  a  lively  stim- 
ulus to  the  study  of  Greek.  They  increased  the  passion  that 
had  been  created  for  the  philosophy  of  Plato.  In  Gemistos 
Plethon  (i356?-i45o),  who  came  to  Florence  in  1438,  the  Flor- 
entines found  a  man  able  to  give  them  something  of  the  Greek 
idealism  for  which  they  craved.  There  was  much  more  in  the 
teachings  of  Gemistos  that  came  from  Alexandria,  where  the 
philosophy  of  Plato  had  become  tinctured  with  that  of  later 
writers,  than  that  which  came  from  Athens.  Yet  something  of 
the  thought  of  Plato  he  was  able  to  give,  and  all  that  the  elo- 
quent old  man  had  to  say  was  accepted  as  pure  gold.  Theodoros 
Gaza  (i400?-75)  cam^  to  Italy  about  1430,  and  after  teaching  in 
various  places  settled  in  Rome  where  he  found  emplo}ntnent  in 
the  palace  of  Cardinal  Bessarion  as  a  translator.  Greatest  of  the 
Byzantine  Platonists  was  Bessarion  (1395  or  1403-1472),  who 
very  early  in  life  had  risen  to  a  high  station  in  the  Greek  church. 
As  the  Archbishop  of  Nicaea  he  attended  the  Council  of  Florence 


THE  REVIVAL  OF  LITERATURE  91 

m  i4fi~9y  and  there,  after  the  attempt  to  bring  together  the  east-  QgAP.  v 
era  and  the  western  churches  failed,  he  went  over  to  the  Latin  izi^uu 
church.    He  was  made  a  cardinal,  and  his  palace  in  Rome,  which 
contained  a  considerable  library  of  Greek  and  Latin  authors, 
became  a  haven  of  refuge  for  the  exiled  Greeks.    In  the  bitter 
coiitioversy  that  arose  among  the  Greeks  as  to  the  respective 
merits  of  Plato  and  Aristotle  he  displayed  a  serenity  and  toler- 
ance in  striking  contrast  to  others  who  joined  in  the  fray,  pro- 
fessing respect  for  Aristotle  as  well  as  admiration  for  Plato. 
Joannes  Argyropulos  (1416-^)  taught  Greek  in  Italy  as  early 
as  1441.     He  lectured  at  Padua,  Florence,  and  Rome.    Struck 
by  the  excellent  translation  and  pronunciation  of  Reuchlin,  one 
of  his  German  pupils,  he  exclaimed :    "  Lo !  through  our  exile, 
Greece  has  flown  across  the  Alps."    Another  Greek  who  taught 
in   Italy  before  the  fall  of  Constantinople  was   Chalcondyles 
(1424— 1 511)  of  Athens.    The  most  prominent  of  those  who  set- 
tled in  the  peninsula  after  the  fall  were  Apostolius,  Callistus, 

Constantine  Lascaris,  Janus  Lascaris,  Musurus,  and  Calli«;:gie&. 

As  we  have  seen,  the  work  which  had  been  begun  by  Petrarch 
in  Florence  soon  spread  to  other  cities.    But  Florence  had  long 
shown  itself  to  be  the  brain  of  Italy.    Nowhere  else  had  the 
traditions  of  the  Roman  civilization  been  so  faithfully  preserved. 
Nowhere  else  had  individuality  been  developed  to  so  great  an 
extenL     All  classes  of  society  had  experienced,  at  least  for  a 
brief  time,  the  intoxication  and  the  difficulties  of  governing. 
Wearied  somewhat,  perhaps,  with  perpetual  revolution  it  had 
settled  down  to  enjoy  a  period  of  stability  and  a  government  nieSpirti 
apparently    democratic.    The    dissembling   Medicean   autocracy  Jj^fj®'" 
was  of  course  far  from  being  democratic.     But  it  was  the  gov- 
ernment which  the  Florentines  had  accepted,  and  it  flattered  their 
passions  and  pleased  their  pride.     From  the  beginning  of  the 
fourteenth  century  Florence  had  enjoyed  an  increasing  com- 
mercial prosperity  which  reached  its  maximum  in  the  middle 
of  the  fifteenth  century.    The  oil  of  commerce  filled  the  lamp 
of  culture.    The  wealth  of  the  city  made  possible  a  high  stand- 
ard of  comfort  and  produced  a  luxury  and  a  sense  of  refine- 
ment that  called  into  activity  the  energies  of  artisans  and  of 
artists.    And  all  the  people  of  the  city  profited  by  the  wealth 
of  its  merchants.    They  shared  in  the  pomp  and  the  splendor 
of  the  dvic  and  religious  festivals  which  were  paid  for  by  the 
ridi  merchants  and  bankers.    They  enjoyed  the  artistic  buildings 
diat  were  erected.    They  saw  the  pictures,  read  the  poems,  and 
witnessed  the  dramatic  performances  that  were  made  possible 
Ij  the  wealth  of  the  patrons.    Qiristianity  still  maintained  a 


92  THE  RENAISSANCE 

CHAP.  ▼  hQid  upon  the  people.  It  determined  not  a  little  of  the  socia 
1S74*14M  activity  of  the  public  palace,  the  corporation,  the  family,  zxn 
the  individual.  Even  the  most  ardent  of  the  humanists,  the  me 
most  enraptured  with  the  rediscovered  and  the  resurgent  pagai 
attitude  towards  life,  were,  as  a  rule,  respectful  Christians.  Bu 
it  was  no  longer  the  Christianity  that  held  complete  renunda 
tion  of  the  world  to  be  the  highest  virtue  and  self-maceratioi 
to  be  a  principal  secret  of  peace.  Indeed,  Christianity  was  losiu] 
ground.  It  was  coming  to  be  more  and  more  merely  a  veneei 
It  was  the  architecture,  the  decoration,  and  the  ritual,  that  at 
tracted  the  most  cultured  of  them  to  church;  the  perfection  o 
the  lines  of  pillar  and  dome,  the  perfume  of  the  incense  and  th 
sweetness  of  the  songs,  things  that  aroused  sensuous  emotion 
Florence  had  come  to  be  a  city  of  epicureans.  In  its  intelligeni 
sober,  and  industrious  citizens  human  nature  manifested  itsel 
in  all  its  multifarious  aspects.  They  had  a  passion  for  thei 
city,  a  deep-rooted  sense  of  their  citizenship.  They  had  a  lov 
for  what  was  beautiful,  and  a  keen  criticsd  sense  that  enable 
them  to  insist  upon  a  high  plane  of  achievement.  Such  was  th 
city  to  which  we  have  now  to  turn  our  attention. 

Florence  had  become  a  hive  of  learned  men,  congenial  coterie 
of  whom  gathered  in  palaces,  in  convents,  and  in  villas.  The  firs 
of  these  groups  was  the  one  that  met  in  the  convent  of  Sant 
Early  nor-  Spirito  Under  the  leadership  of  Luigi  Marsigli  (?-i394),  ■ 
mtiiMHii.  teacher  of  mediocre  ability  who  nevertheless  exerted  a  wide 
spread  influence.  There  came  to  be  a  passion  in  Italy  for  thes 
societies.  In  many  of  the  towns  there  existed  a  literary  grou] 
that  organized  itself  into  an  academy.  Another  Florentine  hu 
manist  of  this  period  was  Coluccio  Salutato  (1330-1406),  wh 
became  chancellor  of  the  city,  and  who  did  much  by  the  exqui 
site  Latin  prose  of  his  official  papers  to  make  a  correct  an* 
graceful  Latin  style  an  indispensable  accomplishment  of  an 
one  who  sought  to  occupy  a  position  as  secretary  in  any  of  th 
republics  or  courts  of  Italy.  Thus  an  important  field  was  throw; 
open  to  the  hiunanists.  The  revival  of  letters  and  of  art  foun 
generous  supporters  in  several  members  of  the  Strozzi  famil} 
It  was  the  noble  and  generous  Palla  Strozzi  who  was  chiefl 
instrumental  in  the  renovation  of  the  University  of  Florenc 
and  In  bringing  Chrysoloras  to  it  as  one  of  its  teachers,  thu 
making  it  the  center  of  Italian  Hellenism.  Had  he  not  bee 
banished  from  the  city  he  might  have  excelled  his  rival,  Cosim 
de'  Medici,  as  a  patron  of  learning. 

A  second  period  in  the  literary  and  artistic  history  of  Florenc 
begsai  with  the  patronage  of  Cosimo  de'  Medici  (i  389-1464 


THE  REVIVAL  OF  LITERATURE  93 

iibo  bffamc  the  autocrat  of  the  city  in  1434  and  held  the  posi-  ^^^^^ 
tkn  for  thirty  years,  with  the  exception  of  a  brief  period  of    i«84-69 
exile.    Cosimo  was  in  many  ways  a  consummate  ruler.    He 
maiDtamed  a  perfect  harmony  between  his  own  aims,  ideas  and 
aspirations  and  those  of  the  Florentine  people.    Very  early  he 
roKzed  that  the  Renaissance  movement  was  one  of  profound 
mqxHtance.     He  perceived  that  it  was  something  greater  than 
a  national  movement.    '*  You  might  as  well  try  to  control  the  ooitBo  di* 
stars  in  their  courses,"  he  wrote  to  one  of  his  friends,  "  or  the  ^S^JUlf 
sea  in  its  tides  as  to  bind  the  Renaissance  to  Italy.    It  is  a 
European,  perhaps  a  world-wide  influence."    And  he  determined 
to  make  himself  its  foster-father.    He  identifled  himself  with 
evtiy  aspect  of  it.    Eminent  as  he  was  in  finance  and  politics 
he  was  nevertheless  remarkable  as  a  man  of  notable  and  varied 
cultare.     He  gathered  about  him  the  most  prominent  classical 
achdars,  architects,  sculptors,  and  painters.    By  his  discrim- 
inatmg  judgment  and  S3mipathy,  as  well  as  by  his  financial  sup- 
port, he  did  much  to  evoke  the  latent  genius  of  many  of  these 
men.    He   employed  agents  to  collect  coins,  inscriptions  and 
mamiscripts.    He  not  only  accumulated  libraries  but  made  pro- 
vision for  housing  them  and  making  them  accessible  to  the  pub- 
Sc    It  was  he  who  founded  the  Platonic  Academy  at  Florence. 
Among  the  members  of  his  circle  were  Niccoli,  Bruni,  Marsup- 
pini,  Manetti,  Poggio,  Traversari,  Guarino,  and  Filelfo.    Each 
was  activdy  engaged  in  furthering  the  revival  of  letters,  and 
each  was  specially  interested  in  the  study  of  Plato.    Niccoli 
(1363-1437)  was  an  excellent  Latinist,  an  indefatigable  collector 
and  copyist,  an  able  critic  and  a  man  of  wide  learning.    Leonardo 
Brum  (136^1444),  who  had  been  one  of  the  pupils  of  Chryso- 
bras,  became  chancellor  of  Florence  and  one  of  its  historians. 
He  is  chiefly  famous  in  the  revival  of  letters  as  a  translator  from 
die  Greek.    He  possessed  a  critical  mind,  and  he  gave  a  great 
impulse  to  textual  criticism  and  philosophy.     Carlo  Marsuppini 
(i399?-i453)  succeeded  Bruni  as  chancellor  of  Florence.    He 
placed  little  value  upon  the  Christian  faith,  and  upon  his  death- 
bed he  refused  the  rites  of  the  Church.    His  work  was  chiefly 
tint  of  a  teacher  and  lecturer.    Manetti  (1396-1459)   studied 
Hebrew  as  well  as  Latin  and  Greek.    He  was  an  ardent  col- 
lector of  manuscripts,  copies  of  which  he  circulated  among  the 
poorer  scholars.    The  pagan  learning  that  led  other  scholars 
to  moral  laxity  served  in  his  case  for  the  elevation  of  his  char*- 
acter.     Poggio  (1380-1459)  was  the  most  diligent  and  fortunate 
of  all  die  searchers  for  classical  manuscripts.    He  was  the  first 
scholar  to  prove  himself  an  original  writer.    His  Latin  is  full 


94 


THE  RENAISSANCE 


OHAP.  V  q{  Italianisms,  but  it  has  the  spontaneity  and  the  vivacity  of  a 
1484^9  living  language.  Despite  the  fact  that  he  held  papal  offices  under 
eight  successive  popes  he  was  surpassed  by  few  in  his  con- 
tempt for  Christianity.  His  facile  pen  was  ready  not  only  to 
copy  classical  manuscripts,  but  to  lend  itself  to  the  licentious- 
ness that  marked  the  later  years  of  the  revival  of  letters.  Travcr- 
sari  (1386-1439)  another  of  the  pupils  of  Chrysoloras,  became 
general  of  the  Camaldolese  Order.  He  made  his  convent  in 
Florence  a  meeting  place  for  scholars,  and  he  wrote  to  other 
scholars  all  over  Europe.  He  had  the  happy  faculty  of  uniting 
the  Christian  virtues  with  the  pagan  culture.  Guarino  da  Ve- 
rona (1374-1460)  was  still  anotJier  pupil  of  Chrysoloras,  having 
studied  in  the  house  of  the  master  at  Constantinople.  With 
Vittorino  da  Feltre  he  was  one  of  the  great  schoolmasters  of  the 
early  Renaissance.  He  taught  in  many  places,  Venice,  Verona, 
Trent,  Padua,  Bologna,  Florence,  and  Ferrara.  He  was  per- 
haps a  better  Greek  scholar  than  any  other  Italian  of  the  time, 
and  unlike  many  of  the  humanists  his  moral  character  was  above 
reproach.  Filelfo  (1398-1481)  had  also  studied  in  Constants 
nople  under  Chrysoloras.  Two  years  after  his  return  to  Italy 
he  began  to  teach  in  Florence.  He  was  conceited  and  arrogant. 
and  he  quarreled  with  most  of  the  hiunanists  and  with  Cosimo, 
their  patron.  His  genuine  enthusiasm  for  letters  and  his  un- 
doubted mastery  of  much  of  the  literature  of  Greece  are  over- 
shadowed by  his  venomous  and  obscene  vituperation. 
In  speaking  of  the  revival  of  letters  we  have  been  compelled 
luiianPa-  to  notice  the  increasing  paganism  of  the  Italians.  It  would  be 
••"^^  incorrect  to  think  that  it  was  the  study  of  Greek  and  Roman 
life  that  gave  to  the  Italians  their  pagan  attitude  towards  life. 
Nothing  could  be  further  from  the  truth.  It  was  the  innate 
sense  of  reality  of  the  Italians  that  led  them  to  govern  their 
lives  so  largely  by  their  senses,  a  sense  that  had  been  emanci- 
pated by  the  revival  of  individuality,  that  gave  to  them  the  pagan 
conception  of  life.  When  they  read  the  classic  authors  they  were 
at  first  surprised  and  then  delighted  to  find  men  who  like  them- 
selves were  bent  upon  enjoying  to  the  full  the  pleasures  of  the 
present  life.  The  resuscitation  of  the  paganism  of  antiquity 
'  was  merely  a  confirmation  of  their  own.  The  paganism  of  the 
Italians,  then,  was  in  large  part  a  matter  of  temperament;  but 
it  was  also  something  of  an  intellectual  epidemic,  a  youthful 
exuberance,  a  reaction  against  the  trammels  from  which  they 
had  but  recently  become  emancipated.  Eventually  they  discov- 
ered that  "  a  system  which  sacrificed  what  was  inward  "  could 
not  satisfy  them-;  and«  profound  as  was  the  indebtedness  of  the 


THE  REVIVAL  OF  LITERATURE  95 

Renaissance  to  the  new  paganism,  much  of  the  finest  work  of  the   QgAP.  ▼ 
era  was  accomplished  when  "  the  glow  of  medieval  faith  "  in-    i«69-98 
spired  it.     Midielangelo's  greatness,  for  instance,  was  due  to 
die  fact  that  his  genius  was  "  spiritualized  by  the  reverie  of  the 
Middle  Age,  penetrated  by  its  spirit  of  inwardness  and  intro- 
spection," that  he  lived  "  not  a  mere  outward  life  like  the  Greek, 
Iwt  a  life  full  of  inward  experiences,  sorrows,  and  consolations.'* 
So,  in  the  later  Renaissance,  did  the  Hellenistic  and  medieval 
ideab  tend  to  mix  and  mingle,  to  become  concurrent  and  con- 
comitant forces. 

A  third  period  in  the  development  of  letters  and  a  new  period 
in  the  development  of  literature  and  art  began  with  the  patronage 
of  Lorenzo  de'  Medici  (1449-92),  who  after  the  brief  interval  Lonmo 
of  five  years  in  which  his  father,  Piero  de'  Medici,  held  sway,  ^  ^ 
succeeded,  in  1469,  to  the  position  formerly  occupied  by  his 
grandfather,  G)simo.  Lorenzo  was  only  twenty-one  years  of 
age  when  he  came  into  power,  but  he  had  already  displayed  the 
qualities  that  made  him  successful.  We  have  here  to  regard 
bim  as  a  patron  and  a  poet,  rather  than  as  a  ruler.  As  a  patron 
of  literary  men  and  artists  he  surpassed  even  his  grandfather. 
In  an  extraordinarily  complete  way  he  represented  the  varied 
aspirations  of  his  day,  and  he  spared  no  effort  to  make  Flor- 
ence the  mistress  of  literature  and- art.  Under  his  patronage  Greek 
scholars  were  brought  to  the  Tuscan  capital.  "  Athens,  root  and 
branch,"  said  a  contemporary  Florentine,  "  has  been  transplanted 
hither,  here  to  make  her  abode.  Not  Athens  in  ruins  and  in  the 
hands  of  barbarians,  but  Athens  as  she  was,  with  her  breathing 
spirit  and  her  very  soil."  To  assist  in  the  classical  studies  of 
his  circle  he  made  costly  and  valuable  collections  of  books,  coins, 
medals,  inscriptions,  and  other  antiquities.  His  patronage  was 
marked  not  only  by  lavish  expenditure  and  generosity  but  also 
by  tact  and  a  most  judicious  discrimination.  He  was  able  not 
only  to  recognize  men  of  genius  and  to  honor  them,  but  also 
to  inspire  them  to  the  highest  achievements  of  which  they  were 
capable.  With  the  most  diverse  forms  of  the  many-sided  life 
of  the  Renaissance  he  could  sympathize.  In  an  unusual  degree 
he  possessed  the  artistic  temperament,  a  keen  sensitiveness  to 
the  thought  and  feeling  of  those  amongst  whom  he  lived. 
Philosophers  deemed  him  a  sage.  Scholars  were  aware  of  his 
exquisite  appreciation  of  literary  style.  In  him  architects,  sculp- 
tors, and  painters  found  a  patron  of  faultless  taste.  To  liber- 
tines he  was  a  boon  companion,  who  wrote  carnival  songs  that 
are  often  highly  licentious,  who  danced  and  masqueraded  with 
the  most  abandoned,  and  who  plunged  into  all  the*  orgies  of  the 


96  THE  RENAISSANCE 


CHAP.  ▼  carnival  festivities.  The  pious  knew  and  honored  him  as  the 
1469-98  author  of  mystery  plays  and  of  hymns  steeped  in  genuine  re- 
ligious emotion.  Unless  one  realizes  the  rich  and  variegated 
life  of  the  Renaissance,  Lorenzo,  who  was  at  once  sensual  and 
spiritual,  spontaneous  of  emotion  and  subtle  of  mind,  as  wdl 
as  many  another  man,  will  seem  a  paradoxical  being. 

We  have  already  seen  that  there  was  a  tendency  among  the 
men  of  culture  to  form  themsdves  into  groups  for  the  purpose 
of  discussing  their  intellectual  and  artistic  interests.  These 
coteries  usually  came  to  be  known  as  academies.  It  was  not 
long  before  academies  sprang  up  all  over  Italy.  There  was  a 
need  for  them.  They  afforded  die  humanists  definite  organiza- 
tions, gave  them  a  corporate  existence,  and  added  greatly  to  their 
influence.  They  provided  opportimity  for  the  intercourse  of 
sympathetic  spirits,  and  they  made  possible  the  free  play  of  the 
Th«pia-      lately  aroused  critical  faculty.    The  Platonic  Academy  at  Flor- 

*®5?2 cnce,  a  circle  of  friends  much  more  informal  than  the  academies 

that  were  organized  in  other  places,  was  conceived  by  Gemistos 
Plethon,  founded  by  Cosimo  de'  Medici,  and  carried  to  its  acme 
by  Lorenzo  de'  Medici.  It  is  not  difficult  to  understand  the 
ardent  devotion  of  the  men  of  the  Renaissance  to  Plato.  Aris- 
totle was  coupled  with  scholasticism,  with  the  submission  of  the 
human  intellect  to  external  and  arbitrary  authority.  Plato  ap- 
peared to  them  as  the  prophet  of  freedom,  as  the  philosopher 
to  whom,  more  than  to  any  one  else,  was  due  their  emancipation 
from  the  fetters  of  the  Aristotelian  scholasticism.  He  spoke  to 
them  of  the  mystery  of  life,  he  corresponded  to  the  ngw  instincts 
that  stirred  within  them,  to  the  new  vision  that  floated  before 
their  eyes,  to  the  imaginative  yearnings  that  filled  their  hear^" 
The  way  in  which  Plato  fused  the  material  and  the  immateri^ 
world  had  for  them  an  unfailing  fascination.  Moreover,  their 
temperaments  were  naturally  Platonic.  So  they  turned  to  Plato 
with  a  passionate  devotion.  Out  of  this  devotion  grew  an  at- 
tempt to  find  the  Christian  doctrines  contained  implicitly  in  the 
body  of  hb  teachings,  to  reconcile  him  to  Christ.  But  their 
Platonism  was  very  largely  their  own.  The  teachings  of  t^ 
Athenian  philosopher  had  come  to  them  in  a  roundabout  way  and 
in  an  adulterated  form.  They  possessed  only  that  system  of 
philosophical  and  religious  doctrines  and  principles,  cofl[ipound|d 
of  Platonism  and  oriental  beliefs  and  then  colored  by  ChnP 
tianity,  which  had  originated  at  Alexandria.  Their  Platonism 
was  not  Greek.  It  was  Christian,  medieval,  and  chivalrous.  Yet 
their  Platonic  feeling  was  genuine.  It  was  the  same  passionate 
pursuit  for  something  permanent  in  the  midst  of  a  worid  of 


THE  REVIVAL  OF  LITERATURE  97 


dm^  as  that  in  which  the  disciple  of  Socrates  was  so  active  a  ^'^^^ 
partic^nnt.  It  was  in  its  essence  the  same  eternal  Platonism  uw^wi 
to  whidi  the  material  is  but  the  symbol  of  the  ideal,  the  phenom- 
enal of  the  noumenaly  the  visible  of  the  unseen.  It  made  their 
intellects  emotional  and  their  passions  cold.  It  was  much  more 
than  a  mere  imitation  of  Plato.  It  was  a  veritable  reincama- 
tioQ  of  his  spirit  divested  of  the  environment  of  his  far-off  pagan 
world.  And  if  the  Florentines  have  been  surpassed  in  their 
knowledge  of  Plato  by  more  recent  scholars,  no  others  have 
loved  him  better.  They  believed  that  no  other  philosopher  had 
expressed  the  eternal  verities  in  speech  of  such  consummate 
beauty.  They  built  a  shrine  to  him,  and  before  it  they  kept  a 
lamp  continually  burning.  They  crowned  his  bust  with  laurels. 
They  made  the  day  of  his  birth  a  festal  day ;  and  on  the  anni- 
versary of  his  death  they  pronounced  stately  and  solemn  panegy- 
rics. This  Platonic  cult  exercised  an  immense  influence  upon 
the  literature,  the  art,  and  the  culture  of  the  age.  The  concep- 
ticm  of  God  as  the  supreme  unity  of,  all  the  diverse  parts  and 
forces  of  the  physical  and  moral  universe  penetrated  the  litera- 
ture of  the  latter  half  of  the  fifteenth  century  and  permeated 
its  art.  It  made  men  of  culture  opponents  of  ecclesiastical  dogma 
and  apostles  of  a  general  reconciliation. 

Among  the  members  of  the  Platonic  Academy  in  the  time  of 
Lorenzo  was  Marsilio  Ficino  ( 1433-99) »  who  in  his  childhood 
had  been  set  apart  by  Cosimo  de'  Medici  for  the  purpose  of 
becoming  an  interpreter  of  Rato's  philosophy.  All  his  energy 
vwis  fervently  devoted  to  the  reconciliation  of  Christianity  and 
Platonism.  He  r^^arded  Plotinus,  the  chief  Neo-Platonist  of  Mnaben 
Alexandria,  as  the  greatest  exponent  of  the  teachings  of  the  ^^^ 
Gredc  philosopher  because  he  found  more  features  of  resem-  AatdMny 
blance  between  Christianity  and  Platonism  in  the  writings  of  the 
disc^>le  than  he  did  in  those  of  the  master.  His  enthusiastic 
ardor  in  the  study  of  Greek  literature  and  in  promulgating  the 
doctrine  that  all  religions  are  really  one  had  an  enormous  influ- 
ence not  only  in  Italy  but  beyond  the  Alps.  The  Academy  met, 
according  to  the  season  or  the  circumstance,  in  the  Medici  palace 
jp  Florence,  in  the  pleasant  gardens  of  the  Badia  at  Fiesole,  in 
Lorenzo's  villa  at  Careggi,  and  in  the  forest  that  surrounds 
th^  convent  of  Camaldoli.  In  his  Camaldolese  Discussions 
Qnistoforo  Landino  (1424-1504)  has  left  a  vivid  and  charming 
pictore  of  the  life  of  the  scholars  of  Lorenzo's  circle.  In  the 
revival  of  letters  he  is  notable  as  an  annotator  of  Horace  and 
Vergil  and  a  translator  of  the  elder  Pliny.  And  with  his  com- 
mentary on  Dante  he  did  not  a  little  to  assist  in  the  revival  of 


98 


THE  RENAISSANCE 


OHAP.  ▼ 
14e9-92 


ItallAa 
confined  to 
the  Com- 
Bon  Poo- 
plo 


Vftlno  of 
tho  Study 

of  OlMfi- 

ealLtttori 


literature  in  the  vernacular.  He  was  one  of  the  leaders  of  Flor* 
entine  scholarship.  Poliziano  (1454-94)  was  probably  the  first 
Italian  whose  mastery  of  Greek  was  equal  to  that  of  the  con- 
temporary Greek  scholars.  He  was  an  able  interpreter  both  of 
Greek  and  Latin  literature.  Students  from  all  parts  of  Europe 
came  to  hear  him  lecture.  He  wrote  poems  in  Greek  at  the 
early  age  of  seventeen,  and  his  Latin  poetry  possesses  a  singular 
grace  and  beauty.  As  a  htmianist  he  stands  easily  first  among 
the  Italians.  He  was  able  to  divest  his  scholarship  of  pedantry 
and  to  infuse  into  it  vitality.  Pico  della  Mirandola  (1463-94) 
did  much  to  further  that  tmity  and  belief  that  was  the  aim  of 
Florentine  neo-Platonism,  that  was  directed  against  the  prev- 
alent materialism  of  the  Aristotelian  school  of  philosophy  and 
the  ignorance  and  corruption  of  the  clergy.  The  soul,  he  said, 
comes  from  God.  It  yearns  to  become  more  deeply  conscious 
of  its  relation  to  God.  It  desires  reunion  with  Him.  Every 
religious  creed  has  this  desire  for  its  basis.  He  was,  therefore, 
intellectually  tolerant  of  all  creeds.  Pico,  who  died  at  the  early 
age  of  thir^-one,  was  a  young  man  of  noble  birth  and  singular 
beauty.  He  was  eminent  as  a  scholar,  and  he  became  the  idol 
of  Florentine  society.  Between  the  dim  figures  of  the  half-for- 
gotten gods  of  Greece  and  the  pallid,  blood-stained  Christ  of 
Calvary,  between  the  old  faiths  and  the  new,  he  craved  with  a 
wistful  passion  to  effect  a  reconciliation  that  should  bring  to 
the  world  the  peace  of  which  he  dreamed. 

When,  after  the  death  of  Boccaccio,  the  men  of  culture  praor 
tically  ignored  Italian,  it  descended  below  the  surface  and  con- 
tinued its  career  in  subterranean  channels.  The  common  life  of 
the  people  with  its  joys  and  sorrows,  its  victories  and  defeats, 
its  aspirations  and  its  dreams,  demanded  expression.  So  a  popu- 
lar literature  of  ballads,  tales,  romances,  letters,  chronicles,  and 
hymns,  sometimes  the  gradual  result  of  composite  authorship, 
and  sometimes  the  product  of  men  whose  names  were  speedily 
forgotten,  gave  voice  to  the  daily  life  of  town  and  country-side. 

It  has  been  the  fashion  to  decry  the  renunciation  of  Italian 
in  favor  of  the  literature  of  Greece  and  Rome.  But  the  sittia- 
tion  seems  to  justify  such  action,  if  not  to  have  made  it  impera- 
tive. Dante's  great  poem,  despite  the  fact  that  he  himself  fore- 
saw something  of  the  coming  change,  summed  up  an  era  that  was 
ended.  He  did  not  point  out  new  paths  to  literature.  And  be- 
cause of  the  fact  that  the  culture  and  technical  accomplishment 
of  Petrarch  and  Boccaccio  were  greatly  superior  to  that  of  other 
writers  of  their  time  and  the  generations  immediately  succeeding 
them,  those  writers  founded  no  school.    General  culture  and  the 


THE  REVIVAL  OF  LITERATURE  99 

mastery  of  technique  had  to  be  acquired,  and  this  was  done  by  ^^f^^ 
the  study  of  classical  letters  and  literature.  The  work  of  the  i«e«-98 
humanists  was  not  a  mere  harvest  of  barren  blossom  without 
fragrance  and  without  fruit.  Nor  did  it  warp  the  Italian  genius. 
Though  they  may  have  been  for  the  most  part  unconscious  of 
the  result,  the  work  of  the  humanists,  which  was  not  always 
that  of  mere  imitation,  served  to  educate  and  develop  the  Italian 
genius.  As  the  years  went  on  they  began  to  create  an  original 
literature  in  Latin.  This  literature,  whatever  its  defects  may 
be,  contains  in  germ  some  of  the  characteristics  of  the  renewed 
Italian  literature  that  was  about  to  appear.  It  contains  history, 
oratory,  and  the  depiction  of  contemporary  manners  in  prose. 
It  came  to  be  penetrated  with  Italian  life.  The  work  of  the 
revival  of  classic  letters  was  then  concluded.  The  revival  of 
Italian  literature  was  at  hand. 

Leo  Battista  Albert!  (1404-72),  poet,  philosopher,  mathemati- 
cian, inventor,  athlete,  architect,  painter,  sculptor,  and  musician, 
one  of  the  many-sided  men  of  the  Renaissance,  realized  the  need  Btntwed 
of  a  national  language  to  express  the  national  life,  and  so  in  a  J^JKJ^  ^ 
treatise  he  championed  the  cause  of  the  Italian  tongue,  and  by  Literatim 
his  example  did  much  to  bring  about  a  second  flower  time  of 
Italian  literature.    The  study  of  Greek  and  Latin  letters  was 
fast  becoming  merely  the  work  of  pedants  given  over  to  imita- 
tion and  stylistic  affectation.    Alberti  took  up  the  development 
of  Italian  prose  where  the  interruption  of  the  revival  of  classical 
letters  had  left  it.     His  prose  is  soipewhat  artificial  in  its  imita- 
tion of  Latin,  but  his  verses  have  a  notable  freshness  and  spon- 
taneity. 

Lorenzo  de'  Medici  was  essentially  a  poet,  elegant  if  not  pow- 
erful, vivacious  and  always  spontaneous.  His  soimets  have  pre- 
cision of  technique  and  grace  of  diction  and  in  their  passages 
of  graphic  description  they  give  ample  evidence  of  a  loving  Lorramae 
observation  of  nature,  though  they  fail  to  reveal  a  temperament  ♦  ^«^ 
that  was  finely  sensitive  to  her  varying  moods.  His  idylls,  in 
which  he  displays  an  easy  mastery  of  various  verse  forms,  are 
the  most  elaborate  of  his  poems.  They  contain  portraits  of 
rustic  folk  drawn  from  life,  and  their  diction  is  admirably  suited 
to  their  pastoral  character.  His  carnival  songs  conformed  to 
the  pc^ular  taste  of  the  time,  and  so  they  are  sometimes  ex- 
ceedingly licentious,  and  they  always  disguise  immorality  under 
the  mask  of  gallantry.  His  songs  and  ballads  are  sometimes 
delicate,  sometimes  coarse,  and  always  lyrical.  They  are  spon- 
taneous, rising  out  of  the  life  of  their  time,  but  they  are  monot- 
onous in  theme.    His  sacred  poems  express  a  side  of  his  nature 


100 


THE  RENAISSANCE 


CHAP.  V  that  was  as  genuine  as  the  one  disclosed  in  his  lascivious  carnival 
1469^2  songs.  They  are  often  eloquent,  the  emotion  is  often  decfdy 
moving,  and  at  times  the  thought  rises  to  the  purest  sphere  of 
tragedy  and  religion.  The  dominant  note  of  all  his  poetry  is  tiiat 
of  love  touched  with  the  wistfulness  of  a  thoughtful  man«  As 
a  poet  he  was  accomplished  rather  than  great  And  as  a  writer 
in  prose  and  verse  he  did  much  by  example  to  lift  the  Italian 
language  into  its  rightful  place  as  the  medium  for  the  expres- 
sion of  Italian  life. 

The  use  of  Italian,  which  had  been  renewed  by  Albert!  and 
Lorenzo  de'  Medici,  was  continued  by  Luigi  Pulci  and  Poliziano. 
The  first  force  of  the  revival  of  letters  was  now  spent.  The  pas- 
sion for  antiquity  had  begun  to  cool.  Its  effects  were  far- 
reaching  and  it  had  by  no  means  been  brought  to  a  condusim. 
But  the  exclusive  devotion  to  classical  letters  which  had  made 

Pniot  the  century  between  Boccaccio  and  Alberti  almost  a  blank  in  the 

history  of  Italian  literature  came  to  an  end.  Men  were  no 
longer  content  to  devote  all  their  energies  to  mere  letters,  a  mere 
concern  with  the  technique  of  literature,  and  to  be  dependent 
upon  the  literature  of  the  past.  They  began  to  exercise  their 
own  creative  power.  They  passed  from  letters  to  learning  and 
to  literature.  They  broadened  and  deepened.  Their  audience 
consisted  no  longer  of  little  scholarly  groups  scattered  here  and 
there.  It  became  the  living  world  of  men.  For  his  Morgante 
Maggiore,  Luigi  Pulci  (143 1-2 — 1487-90)  took  the  l^ends  of 
chivalry  that  were  suited  to  his  purpose  and  wove  them  into  a 
romantic  burlesque.  It  was  written  part  by  part  to  be  recited 
before  the  brilliant  and  cultured  society  of  the  great  Florentine 
palace  of  the  Medici.  Mere  amusement  was  its  aim.  It  had 
no  serious  and  sustained  object.  It  is  at  once  romantic,  heroic, 
and  ironical.  It  is  a  series  of  gay  and  reckless  narratives,  writ- 
ten with  spontaneity  and  vigor,  convincing  in  its  delineation  of 
character,  shining  with  touches  of  a  rich  fancy,  and  full  of  the 
bold  and  pungent  irony  that  is  a  characteristic  of  the  Italian 
genius. 

The  greatest  man  in  Lorenzo's  circle  was  Poliziano.    As  we 
have  seen,  he  was  the  foremost  scholar  among  the  men  of  letters. 

PoUiiaiio  He  was  also  the  greatest  poet  of  the  revival  of  Italian  literature 
in  the  fifteenth  century.  He  freed  the  Italian  chrysalis  com- 
pletely from  its  Latin  shell  and  reinstated  it  as  the  literary  lan- 
guage of  the  Italian  people.  His  poetry  does  not  soar  to  great 
heights.  It  lacks  the  elevation  of  Dante  and  the  rich  imagina- 
tion of  Ariosto,  but  it  is  limpid,  pliant,  and  melodious,  and  it 
possesses   an   incomparable   freshness.    La   Giostra  which   ho 


THE  REVIVAL  OF  LITERATURE  loi 


I 


coDq)osed  chiefly  for  the  pleasure  of  Giuliano,  the  brother  of   Qg^p.  v 
Lorenzo  de'  Medici,  lacks  any  noble  or  even  c^Jir^l  thought,  but    im^m 
it  is  extraordinarily  varied  in  its  movement  and  it;^  melody.    He 
wrote  his  play  Favola  d'  Orfeo,  the  first  non-r^KjOfious  play  in 
Italian,  in  two  days,  when  he  was  only  eighteen  ytzz^  of  age. 
It  contains  passages  of  golden  melody,  but  the  diaiog^ie  never 
attains  true  dramatic  quality.    Without  the  music  for  -which  it 
was  meant  it  seems  only  the  shell  of  a  play;  it  linger^  -in  the 
memory  as  a  thing  of  lyrical  beauty  rather  than  of  dramatic 
power.    His  minor  lyrics  have  the  exquisite  refinement,  '<b€ 
limpid  grace,  and  the  enchanting  melody  that  are  their  authors 
diief  characteristics.    It  is  not  passion,  however,  that  pulsates 
in  these  poems,  but  only  the  tender  and  delicate  feeling  of  a  na- 
ture keenly  sensitive  to  the  beauty  of  the  world  in  which  it 
Uved    Poliziano's  poetry  and  Botticelli's  painting  are  expressive 
o{  Florentine  Platonism.    The  inspiration  of  eadi  is  love  turned 
into  an  enchanting  and  passionless  ideal. 

Florence  was  the  central  school  of  Italy,  but  the  revival  of 
letters,  of  literature,  and  of  art  flourished  in  all  parts  of  the 
peninsula.  And  in  some  respects  Florence  was  equaled  if  not 
eclipsed  by  her  rivals.  In  the  first  half  of  the  fourteenth  cen- 
tury Siena,  within  whose  rose-colored  walls  there  was  such  an 
apparently  paradoxical  union  of  commercial  astuteness,  military 


spirit,  and  contemplative  passion,  was  the  teacher  of  architecture,  ^^^^^'^  ^ 
sculpture  and  pamtmg  to  half  Italy.    In  Siena  more  than  m  any  s«pabiios 
other  Italian  city  did  the  Renaissance  assume  a  spiritual  aspect. 
To  diis  aspect  of  life  she  gave  eloquent  expression  in  painting, 
but  she  contributed  nothing  of  importance  to  Italian  literature. 
Most  of  the  Greek  scholars  who  came  to  Italy  passed  through 
Venice  and  carried  on  their  work  in  other  places.    The  city  of 
the  lagoons  never  produced  any  literature  of  distinction.    In  the 
early  stages  of  the  Renaissance  she  seemed  completely  engrossed 
in  politics  and  commerce.    Later  on  the  rich  merchants  as  well 
as  the  wealthy  nobles  patronized  men  of  letters  and  filled  their 
palaces  with  works  of  art.    It  was  not  until  the  printing  press 
had  been  invented  that  Venice  became  a  literary  center.    Indi- 
viduality had  been  developed  to  a  far  less  extent  in  Venice  than 
in  Florence.    In  the  republic  of  the  Adriatic  the  state  and  not 
the  individual  was  held  to  be  of  paramount  importance.    Even 
in  her  glorious  period  of  painting  in  the  sixteenth  century  it  was 
aliens  from  the  mainland  rather  than  Venetians  who  made  Venice 
famous.    When  Petrarch  as  a  boy  sailed  from  Genoa  on  his 
way  to  Avignon  that  Italian  town  seemed  to  him  ''a  city  of 
kings,  the  very  temple  of  prosperity,  and  the  threshold  of  glad« 


I02  THE  RENAISSANCE 


•      •     • 

OHAP.  ▼    ness."    But  Geno^  jjroduced  nothing  of  importance  in  litera- 
1469-92     ture  or  in  art.    v ' 

Beyond  the  ^.alls  of  Florence  it  was  at  the  courts  of  princes 
rather  thai>'Uie  capitals  of  republics  that  letters  and  literature 
flourished.'-. Moral  corruption  abounded  in  these  courts;  and 
guile,  hypocrisy,  cruelty,  and  deceit  were  seldom  absent.  Yet 
these  princes,  who  with  their  courtiers  were  often  guilty  of  the 
Hnmaoiaii  grossest 'immorality,  were  also  possessed  of  extraordinary  merits 
itouia  and. ability.  They  were  generous  to  their  friends  and  filled  with 
€oartt  '.'^,\B€en  zest  of  life.  They  were  discriminating  lovers  of  litera- 
.-.  -.jiire  and  intelligent  and  lavish  patrons  of  art.  They  vied  with 
*  V'each  other  to  secure  and  retain  men  of  talent.  They  made  their 
courts  brilliant  with  all  the  men  of  genius  they  could  allure.  A 
•  '.*  purely  literary  or  artistic  career  was  scarcely  possible  without 
their  aid.  At  Naples,  as  we  have  seen,  Frederic  II  succeeded 
in  producing  a  premature  Renaissance.  But  the  culture  of  his 
court  did  not  become  deeply  rooted  among  the  people.  Culture 
flourished  at  intervals  at  Naples  after  the  death  of  Frederic,  but 
it  was  always  dependent  upon  the  patronage  of  the  ruling  prince. 
Almost  a  century  after  the  death  of  Frederic,  Robert  the  Wise 
became  a  friend  to  Petrarch  and  a  patron  to  Boccaccio.  Another 
century  later  Alfonso  the  Magnanimous  proved  himself  to  be 
a  munificent  promoter  of  learning.  It  was  in  his  reign  that  the 
Academy  of  Naples  was  founded.  Antonio  Beccadelli  (1394- 
1471),  one  of  the  humanists  of  the  court  of  Alfonso,  prostituted 
his  ability  by  producing  a  book  that  invested  with  voluptuous 
grace  all  the  vices  that  accompanied  the  recrudescence  of  pagan- 
ism. Lorenzo  Valla  (i4o6?-S7)  possessed  one  of  the  keenest 
intellects  of  the  early  Renaissance.  His  critical  mind  was  trained 
in  the  methods  of  scientific  investigation.  Three  years  after 
Alfonso  made  him  his  private  secretary  he  gave  to  the  public 
'  his  famous  treatise  on  the  Donation  of  Constantine.  He  exposed 
as  a  forgery  this  medieval  document  that  testified  to  the  trans- 
ference by  GDnstantine  of  the  sovereignty  of  Italy  and  the  west 
to  Pope  Sylvester.  And  he  called  into  question  the  tradition 
that  the  Apostles'  Creed  was  the  joint  composition  of  the  twelve 
apostles.  So  great  a  storm  did  he  arouse  that  he  was  compelled 
to  take  refuge  in  Barcellona.  Later  on,  humanism,  in  the  person 
of  Nicholas  V,  crept  to  the  papal  throne  and  then  Valla  was 
given  a  place  in  the  papal  curia.  Thus  was  typified  the  passing 
of  humanism  from  its  militant  to  its  triumphant  period.  Pon- 
tano  (1426-1503)  was  a  distinguished  Latin  scholar  and  his 
Italian  lyrics  reveal  much  of  the  many-colored  life  of  the  Re- 
naissance.   Cangrande  della  Scala,  whom  Petrarch  calls  ^'the 


THE  REVIVAL  OF  LITERATURE  103 

coasok>r  of  the  houseless  and  the  afflicted,"  was  a  patron  at    ohap^v 
Verona.     It  was  in  his  time  that  Dante  lived  there.    But  Dante    i469-8s 
bad  a  noble  pride,  and  he  found  the  patron's  salt  to  be  bitter, 
and  his  stairs  hard  to  climb.    At  Padua  the  University  founded 
by  Frederic  II  in  1238  had  been  growing  steadily  in  importance. 
Jacopo  II  da  Carrara,  who  had  secured  his  lordship  by  forgery 
and  murder,  was  untiring  in  his  zeal  to  promote  the  interests  of 
literature  and  art.    After  repeated  entreaties  he  induced  Petrarch 
to  reside  at  his  capital  for  a  time.     His  son  Francesco  was  also 
a  man  of  cultured  intellect  who  did  much  to  further  the  cause 
of  humanism.    But  Padua  failed  to  become  a  noted  literary 
center  in  the  early  Renaissance  period.    At  a  later  day  it  became 
famous  as  a  place  of  intellectual  freedom.     For  many  centuries 
Milan  had  been  the  second  city  of  importance  in  the  peninsula. 
It  was  one  of  the  first  among  the  cities  of  northern  Italy  to 
secure  municipal   independence.    The  commune  did  much  to 
improve  the  city,  and  the  work  was  continued  when  the  Vis- 
conti  and  the  Sforza  were  the  despots  of  the  principality.    It  is 
to  Lodovico  Sforza  that  the  Milanese  school  of  painting  owes 
its  origin.     But  Milan  did  not  distinguish  herself  in  letters  or  in 
literature.    As  we  have  seen,  Gian  Francesco  Gonzaga,   Mar- 
quis of  Mantua,  chose  Vittorino  da  Feltre  to  teach  his  children 
and  thus  ensured  for  his  capital  high  rank  among  the  centers 
of  humanism.    Lodovico  Gonzaga,  who   succeeded  his   father 
in  1444,  was  also  a  liberal  and  intelligent  patron  of  art  and  let- 
ters.   In  the  sixteenth  century  the  court  of  Mantua  was  made 
splendid  by  the  residence  of   Bembo,  Bandello,  Ariosto,  and 
Tasso.    Ferrara  played  an  important  part  in  the  development  of 
Italian  literature.    The  revival  of  Italian  in  the  fifteenth  century 
took    place    almost   simultaneously    at    Florence,    Naples,    and 
Ferrara.     The  golden  age  of  culture  at  Ferrara  began  in  1402 
when  its  imiversity  was  reopened.    It  had  no  part  in  the  gfreat 
literary  movement  of  the  thirteenth  and  fourteenth  centuries, 
but  in  the  fifteenth  century,  under  its  Estc  lords,  it  became  cele- 
brated for  its  literary  and  artistic  splendor.     Under  Frederic, 
the  most  ideal  Italian  prince  of  his  age,  Urbino  gained  a  literary 
as  well  as  a  political  importance.    The  little  duchy  was  scarcely 
nx>re  than  forty  miles  square  and  the  larger  part  of  it  was 
unsuitable  for  cultivation.    But  Frederic,  who  had  been  a  pupil 
in  Vittorino  da  Feltre's  school  at  Mantua,  was  a  man  of  cuU 
ture,  and  the  finest  general  of  his  day.    So  noble  youths  flocked 
to  his  court,  the  model  court  of  Italy,  to  learn  manners  and  the 
art  of  war.    Frederic  was  a  liberal  patron  of  arts  and  letters; 
and  his  son  Guidobaldo  followed  in  his  footsteps.    Gismondo 


I04 


THE  RENAISSANCE 


OBAP.  V 
1460-98 


Hnmanim 
on  tlM 
Pftpal 
ThroB* 


Malatesta,  one  of  the  most  brutal  and  licentious  despots  in  an 
age  when  such  men  were  numerous^  was  a  patron  who  suc- 
ceeded in  making  Rimini  a  center  of  humanism.  But  with  his 
death  the  literary  glory  of  his  capital  came  to  an  end.  Thus  we 
have  seen  that  although  Florence  was  the  birth-place  of  human- 
ism its  influence  spread  far  and  wide.  At  every  Italian  court 
there  were  to  be  found  scholars,  poets,  sculptors,  and  painters, 
all  intensely  interested  in  the  surging  life  of  the  time  and  bent 
upon  giving  expression  to  their  thought  and  their  vision  in  some 
form  of  art  or  of  literature. 

It  was  impossible  for  the  Papacy  to  remain  unaffected  by  the 
progress  of  humanism.  We  have  seen  that  after  the  Captivity 
and  the  Schism  the  Papacy  was  restored  to  something  like  its 
old  power  and  prestige.  But  it  was  very  far  from  having  be- 
come the  vigorous  power  that  it  was  in  the  years  of  its  medieval 
supremacy.  Captivity,  schism,  and  conciliar  struggles  had  se- 
riously crippled  it.  So  had  it  been  disposed  to  stem  the  flowit^ 
tide  of  humanism  it  would  probably  have  found  itself  unequal  to 
the  task.  The  Avignonese  popes  were  in  sympathy  with  the 
new  art  and  the  new  literature,  and  this  attitude  of  the  Papacy 
was  maintained,  in  general,  until  the  Council  of  Trent.  In  the 
first  years  of  the  fifteenth  century  Innocent  VII  attached  Bruni 
and  Poggio  to  the  papal  curia  as  secretaries ;  and  humanists  gath- 
ered about  Eugene  IV,  despite  the  fact  that  that  pontiff  cannot 
be  considered  as  being  favorably  disposed  towards  the  new  move- 
ment. With  the  election  of  Nicholas  V  (1447-55)  the  Renais- 
sance definitely  ascended  the  papal  throne.  Extremely  poor,  he 
had  nevertheless  managed  to  secure  a  university  education  at 
Bolc^[na.  Step  by  step  the  little,  ugly,  bright-eyed,  active  scholar, 
once  a  bell-ringer,  crept  up  the  ladder  until  at  last  he  found  him- 
self seated  in  the  Chair  of  St.  Peter.  From  his  time  Rome  be- 
came the  literary  and  artistic  capital  of  Europe,  and  with  brief 
intervals  the  Papacy  gave  its  chief  attention  during  the  Renais- 
sance period  to  art  and  literature  to  the  neglect  of  religion.  Not 
until  half  Christendom  had  withdrawn  itself  from  the  pale  of 
the  church  did  the  Papacy  abandon  its  interest  in  the  revival  of 
literature  and  art  and  turn  its  energies  to  ecclesiastical  matters 
and  the  recovery  of  its  lost  possessions.  Nicholas  was  completely 
penetrated  with  the  spirit  of  humanism.  He  collected  the  books 
that  were  in  the  various  papal  buildings  and  became  the  real 
founder  of  the  g^eat  Vatican  library.  His  agents  were  to  be 
found  in  all  likely  places  seeking  for  manuscripts,  and  he  em- 
ployed the  most  skilful  copyists.  He  was  not  only  generous  but 
tolerant,  or  at  least  indifferent,  to  those  who  did  not  subscribe 


THE  REVIVAL  OF  LITERATURE  105 

to  all  the  doctrines  of  the  church.  Among  the  large  number  of  0^^^*  ▼ 
homanssts  employed  in  his  service  was  Lorenzo  Valla.  Calixtus  i4e9-98 
ni,  the  successor  of  Nicholas,  whose  pontificate  lasted  three 
jears,  was  chiefly  interested  in  prosecuting  the  war  against  the 
Torks.  Pius  II  (1458-64)  was  also  devoted  to  the  success  of 
the  crusade.  But  he  was  not  such  a  fanatic  as  his  predecessor. 
Before  his  election  he  had  been  a  man  of  the  world  and  a  man 
of  letters,  who  did  much  to  carry  humanism  across  the  Alps. 
The  htnnanists  expected  a  great  deal  from  him  as  a  patron. 
They  were  disappointed.  It  was  only  a  mild  encouragement  that 
be  lent  them.  Yet  humanism  had  succeeded  in  establishing  itself 
in  the  capital  of  Christendom.  It  proved  a  subtle  enemy  of  the 
Papacy  tfiat  gave  it  patronage,  for  it  encouraged  men  to  think 
for  themselves  and  to  rely  upon  their  own  reasoning  powers. 
It  did  not  in  an  outright  way  contradict  any  of  the  essential 
dogmas  of  the  Church,  but  it  cultivated  an  attitude  of  mind  that 
was  inimical  to  many  of  them.  And  from  the  standpoint  of 
the  Papacy,  had  the  latter  been  aware  of  the  fact,  or  had  it  not 
been  indifferent  to  it,  this  mental  attitude  was  far  more  dangerous 
than  an  unequivocal  heresy.  An  unmistakable  heresy  could  be 
condemned  and  persecuted.  But  a  mental  attitude  was  a  less 
prdiensible  thing.  It  could  scarcely  be  defined,  let  alone  con- 
demned. So  humanism  went  its  way,  quietly  inculcating  dis- 
belief in  things  that  were  fundamental  to  the  Age  of  Faith. 

It  was  in  the  city  republics,  at  the  courts  of  princes,  and  in 
the  papal  retinue,  that  humanism  found  its  most  congenial  quar- 
ters. It  had  by  no  means  taken  full  possession  of  the  universi- 
ties as  yet.  Petrarch  tells  us  that  when  he  went  to  the  Univer-  BnmAoiim 
flty  of  Bologna  the  educational  methods  of  the  day  seemed  to  Jj^JJJJ 
him  to  be  radically  wrong.  "  Philosophy  is  so  prostituted  to  the 
fancies  of  the  vulgar,"  he  said,  "  that  it  aims  only  at  hair-splitting 
on  subtle  distinctions  and  quibbles  of  words.  .  .  .  Truth  is  ut- 
terly lost  sight  of,  sound  practice  is  neglected,  and  the  reality  of 
things  is  despised.  .  •  .  People  concentrate  their  whole  attention 
npon  empty  words.*'  And  more  than  a  century  after  the  death 
of  the  father  of  humanism  most  of  the  universities  were  still 
dedicated  to  medievalism.  Theology  interwoven  with  the  scholas- 
tic pbflosophy,  medicine,  and  the  civil  and  canon  law  were  the 
principal  subjects  of  study.  And  the  method  of  instruction  was 
fixed  by  tradition  and  prejudice  that  rendered  every  subject 
comparatively  lifeless.  The  bitter  hostility  and  the  arrogant 
scorn  which  the  humanists  displayed  against  the  medieval  in- 
structors was  reciprocated  in  kind.  Medievalism  defended  its 
position  in  the  universities  with  all  the  tenacity  of  a  vested  in- 


io6 


THE  RENAISSANCE 


OBAP.  ▼ 
1469-98 


Bnmanlim 
beyond  the 
Alpi 


terest.  It  fought  with  vigor  against  the  forces  of  the  new  move- 
ment which  it  did  not  understand.  But  despite  all  the  skill  anc 
vigor  displayed  in  its  defense  the  great  medieval  educational 
system  was  doomed.  It  gradually  fell  into  decay,  and  the  tmi- 
versities  became  slowly  permeated  with  the  spirit  of  the  new 
learning. 

When  humanism  was  a  century  old  in  Italy  it  crossed  the  Alps 
and  began  to  infect  the  whole  of  western  Europe.  With  mag- 
netic touch  it  roused  the  slumbering  nations  of  the  north  to 
vigorous  intellectual  life.  It  took  on  varied  qualities  and  aspects 
in  accordance  with  the  ethnic  traditions,  the  racial  temper,  the 
national  characteristics,  of  the  various  peoples  by  whom  it  was 
taken  up.  Yet  in  spite  of  all  the  mutations  of  expression  the 
fundamental  principle  of  the  new  movement  remained  the  same 
in  every  country  it  entered.  In  Germany  it  did  not  consist  as 
largely  as  it  did  in  Italy  of  a  revival  of  the  spirit  of  classical 
antiquity,  of  a  return  to  the  rational  and  pagan  spirit  of  Gredc 
and  Roman  civilization.  It  was  rather  a  return  to  primitive 
Christianity,  or  at  least  to  what  was  understood  to  be  primitive 
Christianity.  The  German  mind  is  deeply  earnest  and  more 
given  to  introspection  than  is  the  Italian.  It  lacks  all  instinctive 
sympathy  with  the  pagan  spirit.  So  when  the  Renaissance  pene- 
trated into  Germany  it  assumed  a  character  that  differed  very 
greatly  from  the  one  it  had  displayed  in  Italy.  The  French  mind, 
although  it  adopted  humanism  with  great  readiness,  did  not  sur- 
render itself  as  fully  to  the  spirit  of  pagan  antiquity  as  did  the 
Italian.  It  retained  more  completely  its  own  essential  qualities. 
With  a  serene  detachment  it  appropriated  those  qualities  of  classi- 
cal antiquity  that  appealed  to  it  and  combined  them  with  those  of 
its  own  which  it  retained.  The  effect  of  this  combination  of  Gallic 
and  classic  qualities  is  to  be  seen  in  all  French  art  and  literature. 
Two  things  combined  to  make  England  receive  the  Renaissance 
with  less  instinctive  sympathy  than  did  France.  The  English 
national  temperament  is  conservative  and  tenacious  of  whatever 
custom  has  made  familiar,  it  has  a  deep-seated  aversion  to 
change;  and,  unlike  France,  the  race  is  of  Teutonic  and  not 
Latin  origin.  It  is  characteristic  of  the  English  temperament 
that  the  first  use  of  humanism  in  England  was  to  spread  learn- 
ing and  not  to  produce  art.  Humanism  was  less  fruitful  in  Spain 
than  in  Germany  or  France  or  England.  The  Spaniards  are  not 
a  great  artistic  race  like  the  French  or  the  Italians,  nor  are  they 
a  race  of  abstract  thinkers  and  philosophers  like  the  Germans. 
Yet  the  achievements  of  the  Spaniards  are  remarkable  because 
of  their  variety  and  their  audacity.    In  discovery  the  Iberian 


THE  REVIVAL  OF  LITERATURE  107 

pcnmsula  can  point  to  the  achievements  of  Columbus,  its  adopted    ohaf^v 
son,  Cortes  and  Vasco  de  Gama;  in  religion  to  St.  Teresa,  St.    1460-98 
John  of  the  Cross,  Loyola,  and  Xavier ;  in  literature  to  Cervantes ; 
and  in  painting  to  Velasquez.    The  essential  characteristic  of 
die  Spanish  genius  seems  to  be  that  its  exponents  have  worked 
by  themselves ;  that,  with  the  exception  of  mysticism,  the  life  of 
the  nation  has  been  unmarked  by  any  great  movements  such  as 
those  which  have  appeared  in  other  countries.    Spain,  as  a  whole, 
then,  was  little  affected  by  humanism.    Only  little  isolated  groups 
of  humanists  sheltered  by  powerful  patronage  were  able  to  bid 
defiance  to  the  hostility  of  die  church. 

The  humanistic  movement  was  a  broad  one.  It  included  the  n*  scope 
revival  of  Greek  and  Latin  letters.  Much  of  this  was  mere  jj^™"" 
pedantry,  and  became  more  and  more  so  as  the  years  went  on. 
It  was  concerned  primarily  with  form  to  the  neglect  of  thought. 
Yet  that  was  a  necessary  stage.  Grammars  had  to  be  con- 
structed, dictionaries  had  to  be  compiled,  texts  had  to  be  deter- 
mined by  the  comparison  of  manuscripts,  and  commentaries  had 
to  be  written.  And  pedants  are  sometimes  good  schoolmasters. 
They  lay  the  foundation  for  the  work  of  men  of  nobler  mind. 
Humanism  also  included  criticism.  With  this  it  furnished  a  key 
to  new  thought  and  prepared  the  birth  of  modem  science.  It 
led  to  Machiavelli  and  the  study  of  man  as  a  social  being,  to 
Erasmus  and  the  study  of  man  as  an  ethical  being,  to  Vesalius 
and  the  sftidy  of  man  as  a  physical  being,  and  to  Bruno  and  the 
study  of  man  as  a  part  of  the  sidereal  system.  It  did  all  of  this 
because  it  produced  a  new  attitude  towards  life. 


CHAPTER  VI 


OHAP.VI 
127&-1400 


that  de- 


Art 


THE  REVIVAL  OF  ART 

1.  The  Relation  of  Art  to  Life. 

2.  The  Revival  of  Architecture. 

3.  The  Revival  of  Sculpture. 

4.  The  Revival  of  Painting. 

AT?  T  IS  a  |apfiif|g<*  It  gives  expression  to  the  spirit  of  the 
age,  the  nation,  and  the  individual  that  produced  it.  These 
three  creating  forces  of  the  age,  the  nation,  and  the  individual 
may  be  discerned  in  every  work  of  art.  They  make  of  art  the 
most  eloquent  expression  of  life.  In  the  novels  of  Dickens, 
Th«rdreM  Thackeray,  and  George  Eliot,  for  instance,  it  is  easy  to  see  the 
spirit  of  the  nineteenth  century.  No  one  who  is  at  all  acquainted 
with  the  history  of  civilization  would  think  of  assigning  them  to 
any  other  time  should  the  dates  of  their  composition  by  some 
mischance  become  lost.  And  equally  easy  would  it  be  to  assign 
them  to  the  British  nation.  They  are  strikingly  differentiated 
from  the  products  of  other  nations  by  the  English  genius  that 
informs  them.'  Nor  would  it  be  difficult  to  come  to  the  conclu- 
sion that  they  were  the  product  of  three  writers,  quite  distinct 
each  from  the  others,  should  the  names  of  their  authors  become 
forgotten.  Usually,  in  a  work  of  art,  it  is  the  force  of  the 
individual  that  is  paramount.  The  painting  of  Corot  and  the 
music  of  Mozart  were  influenced  by  the  gentleness  of  their  lives. 
But  architecture  is  more  impersonal  than  any  other  art.  It  is 
informed  chiefly  with  the  spirit  of  the  age  that  gave  it  birth.  It 
IS  always  a  particularly  true  exponent  of  the  quality  of  the  civ- 
ilization  that  created  it.  Each  epoch  of  the  world  develops  its 
own  proper  form  of  expression.  Greek  architecture  is  the  em- 
bodiment of  supreme  serenity,  of  self-restraint,  and  the  sense 
of  inevitable  fate.  It  is  the  expression  of  an  ideal  of  life  that 
never  sought  to  leave  the  earth,  the  ideal  of  a  sound  mind  in  a 
sound  body.  Its  impulse  is  purely  pagan.  Roman  architecture, 
with  its  bridges  and  aqueducts,  its  triumphal  arches,  its  domes 
and  its  auditoriums,  speaks  of  the  majesty  of  the  Roman  govern- 
ment, of  the  imperial  scope  of  its  power  and  its  law.    When 

108 


THE  REVIVAL  OF  ART  109 

paganism  had  fallen  and  Christianity  had  built  a  new  civilization  QgAp.vi 
upon  the  wreck  of  the  old,  Gothic  architecture  gave  expression  xa76-i400 
to  the  new  spirit,  to  the  new  ideal  of  life,  to  the  new  vision  that 
scared  aloft  until  it  was  lost  in  the  blue  sky.    Pure  beauty  was 
the  sole  object  of  Hellenic  art,  but  Gothic  architecttu-e  strove  to 
voice  the  aspirations  of  the  human  soul.    The  pri^Hn^inanf-  linpg 
of  classic  architecture  are  horizontal  Hpyf^^,  whirh  g^^  <'?Stf"^  ^°^ 
belong  to  the  eartJi.  while  those  of  <^thi^  ^^l^^'^^rtVir?  t^Fg  .^^^" 
^ticaL    In  a  (jothic  cathedral,  slender  window,  towering  pillar, 
FH^inted  arch,  lofty  vault,  delicate  pinnacle,  and  soaring  spire, 
irresistibly    carry   the   eye    upward.     Classic   architecture    was 
rooted  in  the  rational  faculty;  Gothic  was  born  of  the  spiritual. 
The  rational  faculty  looks  about  it  with  understanding.    The 
^nritual  faculty  aspires  with  rapture  to  God.    But  it  is  not  form 
sUone  that  creates  the  impression  produced  by  a  Gothic  cathedral. 
The  windows,  made  up  of  separate  fragments  of  glass,  ruby, 
or  sapphire  blue,  or  emerald  green,  let  in  mellow  light  and  per- 
mit mysterious  shadow.    The  lofty  interior  is  steeped  in  the 
brooding  richness  and  solemn  splendor  of  a  strange  twilight. 
The  eflfect  is  profoundly  emotional.    It  is  the  language  of  the 
soul  become  articulate.    "  When  the  house  of  God,*'  wrote  the 
abbot  of  St  Denis  in  the  middle  of  the  twelfth  century,  "  many- 
colored  as  the  radiance  of  precious  stones,  called  me  from  the 
cares  of  this  world,  then  holy  meditation  led  my  mind  to  thoughts 
of  piety,  exalting  my  soul  from  the  material  to  the  immaterial, 
and  I  seemed  to  find  myself,  as  it  were,  in  some  strange  part  of 
the  universe,  which  was  neither  wholly  of  the  baseness  of  the 
earth  nor  wholly  of  the  serenity  of  heaven,  but  by  the  grace  of 
God  I  seemed  lifted  in  a  mystic  manner  from  this  lower  toward 
that  upper  sphere." 

The  Renaissance  was  in  part  a  harking  back  to  classic  ideals. 
The  neo-classicism  of  the  time  demanded  an  architecture  that 
could  give  it  expression.  Gothic  architecture  could  not  express 
the  lucidity  and  the  sanity  of  Greek  thought,  nor  the  grandiose  juma, 
nature  of  the  Roman  civilization.  Nor  could  it  express  the  com-  Q«tiiio 
bination  of  classicism  and  modernity  that  formed  the  spirit  of 
the  Renaissance.    A  ney  stvl^  nf  architecture  was   required. 

The  POre^tl^^^^  of  nftl'thgr"  ^"^  ronfra^  T7ronr>#*  Tiq/1  |]AV^r  frimTH 

jt  conge"*a^  ^}\  in  T^^ly  Only  a  modified  form  of  Gothic,  in 
which  uie  horizontal  principle  held  an  important  part,  had  flour- 
ished there.  Breadth  rather  than  height  was  its  characteristic 
attribute.  The  spire  was  almost  unknown,  its  place  being  taken 
l>y  the  dome.  In  retaining  something  of  the  character  of  classic 
architecture  Italian  Gothic  expressed  the  genius  of  the  Italian 


no  THE  RENAISSANCE 


CBAP.vi  people,  a  genitis  with  a  classic  inheritance,  as  contrasted  with  th^ 
1400-1600  genius  of  the  French  people,  a  genius  with  a  marked  Celtic  strain 
In  the  creation  of  an  architecture  that  should  give  expressioi 
to  the  semi-classic  spirit  of  the  Renaissance,  a  less  radical  change 
was  required  of  the  Italians  than  of  the  northern  nations.  Hu 
spirit  of  the  Renaissance  appealed  to  the  Italian  mind  promptly 
and  decisively.    A  new  style  of  architecture,  that  rapidly  reache<i 

Oiajurity,  gave  expression  to  that  spirit. 

The  architecture  of  the  Renaissance  began  in  Florence  undei 
Brunelleschi  (i.'^77-i^6).  To  find  him  as  the  original  inspir- 
Ing  mma  oi  Renaissance  ecclesiastical  architecture  one  should  not 
go  to  the  enormous  dome  of  the  Duomo  in  Florence,  for,  despite 
the  unique  beauty  of  its  wonderful  curve,  it  is  chiefly  remark- 
9]ms«ti-  able  as  a  great  engineering  feat  and  not  as  a  high  artistic  achieve- 
vaiof  Ar-     ment    Rather  one  should  go  to  the  smaller  churches  of  San 


Lorenzo  and  Santo  Spirito  in  Florence.  Here  one  finds  the 
towering  (jothic  pillars  of  the  Age  of  Faith  replaced  by  classic 
colonnades,  and  the  high  vaulted  roof  by  lower  and  broader  ceil- 
ings of  the  Roman  type.  There  are  in  diese  churches  the  strong, 
exact  proportions  of  classic  architecture,  its  level  lines,  its  ample 
spaciousness,  and  its  chaste  and  simple  decoration.  Yet  despite 
Brunelleschi's  free  use  of  classical  details  the  effect  of  his  work 
is  quite  unlike  that  of  antiquity.  The  classic  inspiration  was  one 
thing  to  the  man  of  antiquity;  it  was  quite  another  to  the  man 
of  the  early  Renaissance.  To  the  former  it  was  genuine,  sin- 
cere, and  irresistible ;  to  the  latter  it  was  less  vital  because  it  was 
not  born  of  the  time  but  was  merely  retrospective.  The  inter- 
vening centuries  had  changed  the  complexion  of  life.  The  ar- 
chitecture of  Brunelleschi  and  his  followers  express  the  spirit 
that  resulted  from  the  intermingling  of  pagan  and  Christian  ideals 
•  It  is  less  single-hearted  and  more  eclectic  than  either  the  Greek, 
or  the  Roman,  or  the  Gothic  architecture.  A  still  closer  approacli 
to  the  spirit  of  antiquity  was  achieved  by  Alberti  (1404-7^) ^ 
that  many-sided  man  of.  the  Renaissance  whose  writings  we  have 
already  noticed.  Much  of  his  gracious  and  elegant  work  still 
exists.  It  was  not  only  in  central  Italy  that  the  new  architec- 
ture, deriving  its  inspiration  from  both  pagan  and  Christian 
sources,  arose.  While  the  Florentines  were  faithfully  following 
the  course  Brunelleschi  had  laid  down,  Bramante  (i^^-it^iii) 
was  doing^  similar  work  at  Milan.  In  1499  he  went  to  Kotm 
and  there  after  he  had  steeped  mmself  in  the  neo-classic  spirit 
of  the  time  he  became  the  greatest  architect  of  his  age.  It  is 
true  that,  broadly  speaking,  Brunelleschi  and  his  associates  had 
anticipated  almost  all  that  was  best  in  the  architecture  of  the 


THE  REVIVAL  OF  ART  ill 

succeeding  century.  But  some  things  Bramante  added.  He  had  ohaf^ 
a  iaige  conception  of  his  art,  sound  judgment,  and  refined  taste.  i276-i400 
His  buildings  have  simplicity  of  form  and  unity  of  effect.  To 
tins  structural  synunetry  all  the  details  of  decoration  were  care- 
fully subordinated.  He  achieved  proportion  and  grace  and  ele- 
gance. Something,  too,  of  the  vigor  of  the  north  he  interfused 
with  the  majesty  of  the  south.  With  him  the  first  stage  in  the 
revival  of  architecture  was  concluded  and  the  second  b^^n.  All 
during  his  life  architecture  went  on  its  way  with  a  due  regard 
for  proportion  and  a  fine  feeling  for  a  restrained  richness  of 

decoration.  • 

The  Greeks  serenely  enjoyed  the  external  world.  They  drew 
the  inspiration  for  their  sculpture  from  the  men  and  women  they 
saw  about  them.  They  were  not  much  disturbed  by  the  moral 
straggles  and  the  ceaseless  and  often-times  painful  questionings 
r^rding  the  destiny  of  the  individual  soul  that  Christianity  TheEmriy 
emphasized.    As   we  have   seen,   this   chanpr^   in   th#^   aHiHiH#>  gcp^pton 

cSange  in  the  jH<*a1^  ^f  ^i\^  The  Greek  temple  gave  place  to  the 
Tiotmc  cathedral.  And  when  men  began  to  recover  something 
of  the  pagan  attitude  towards  life  the  architecture  of  the  early 
Renaissance  gave  expression  to  that  spirit.  A  similar  change 
took  place  in  all  the  arts,  in  sculpture  and  in  painting.  In  sculp- 
ture the  Italian  sense  of  reality  had  never  been  completely  ex- 
tingitished.  The  carving  of  leaves  and  flowers  and  fruit  in  the 
medieval  churches  of  the  peninsula  give  testimony  to  a  certain 
power  of  observation.  Yet  the  Italian  sculptors  were  in  no 
small  measure  bound  by  the  subjection  of  their  art  to  the  exclu- 
sive service  of  the  Church.  The  men  of  the  medievjll  centuries 
were  exceedingly  skilful  carvers  of  stone.  Indeed,  the  medieval 
sculptors  made  the  thirteenth  century  one  of  the  great  periods  of 
their  art.  But  the  spell  of  the  Church  under  which  sculpture 
worked  is  seen  in  the  almost  exclusive  devotion  to  ecclesiastical 
subjects,  in  the  thin  and  gaunt  figures,  the  emaciated  faces,  the 
angular  gestures,  and  above  all  in  the  spirit  that  informs  it.  It 
was  Nicholas  of  Pisa  (i207?-8o),  not  a  Pisan  but  an  Apulian, 
who,  disrq;arding  the  limiting  traditions  of  the  past,  first  instilled 
something  of  the  new  life  into  the  forms  of  medieval  sculpture. 
In  the  panels  of  the  pulpits  at  Pisa  and  Siena  and  those  of  the 
tomb  of  St  Dominic  at  Bologna  one  can  see  something  of  the 
detachment,  the  purity  of  feeling,  and  the  sense  of  the  dignity 
of  the  human  form,  that  were  possessed  by  the  Greeks.  The 
aim  and  the  ideal  of  the  sculptor  are  evident,  despite  the  halting 
technique.     It  was  not  alone  the  example  of  antiquity  that  in- 


112  THE  RENAISSANCE 


OBAF.Yi  spired  Nicholas.  He  was  not  a  mere  imitator.  He  went  direct 
1876-1400  to  nature.  And  from  him  onwards  not  one  of  the  Italian  seo^ 
tors  copied  classical  statuary  in  a  slavish  manner.  So  into  the 
sculpture  of  the  Renaissance,  as  into  its  literature,  its  ardiitec^ 
ture  and  its  painting,  there  flowed  from  the  bq;inning  two 
streams  of  inspiration,  that  of  classic  art  and  that  of  nature  itsdf. 
\i  Pisa  i  1240-1.^20).  the  son  of  Nicholas,  was  much  more 
concerned  with  nattire  than  wit^  antaqi^itY.  It  was  ms  aun  to 
see  nature  as  it  is.  He  carried  no  cloak  of  convention  ready 
to  throw  over  its  truth.  And  coupled  with  his  naturalism  was  a 
genuine  religious  feeling.  The  sculpture  of  Nicholas  of  Pisa 
was  semi-classic.  The  sculpture  of  his  son  John  was  picturesque, 
intellectual,  daring  in  innovation  and  full  of  movement  Above 
all  it  indicated  to  Italian  sculpture  its  true  path,  the  study  of 
nature.  Andrew  QfPjs:^/ 1270-1^48?)  had  for  his  aim  the  por* 
traval  of  beauty  rather  thanlinat  of  the  naked  reality.    Mowtieit 


is  this  more  evident  than  in  the  large  doors  he  made  for  the 
Baptistery  in  Florence.  His  panels  tell  the  old  biblical  stories 
not  with  strict  lines  whose  sole  purpose  is  intelligibility,  but  with 
lines  instinct  with  grace,  with  refined  and  swaying  figures,  whose 
one  aim  is  beauty.  Even  the  soldiers  who  have  just  beheaded 
St.  John  the  Baptist  stand  in  attitudes  of  gentle  grace.  The 
prrpat  py^jptpr  ^j^i^ttn  was  teaching  the  Florentines  that  art  could 
make  things  real,  ^ndrew  of  Pisa  taught  them  that  it  could 
make  them  beautiful.  Orcagna  ( i .^28  ?-^ ) .  another  of  the 
many-sided  men  of  the  kenaissance,  goldsmith,  painter,  poet, 
architect,  and  sculptor,  extended  the  range  of  sculpture.  In  his 
hands  the  art  which  the  Greeks  had  used  to  express  impassible 
serenity  became  a  medium  for  the  portrayal  of  tender  and  even 

le  refined  and 

^  indicate  what 

ight  have  achieved  in  sculpture  had  he  confined  his  attention 
to  that  art  But  he  was  more  of  a  painter,  in  which  art  he  was 
the  greatest  of  the  followers  of  Giotto,  and  more  of  a  goldsmith 
than  a  sculptor. 

Such  were  the  pioneers  of  Italian  sculpture.  They  had  broken 
the  bonds  of  medieval  tradition.  Their  work  was  imbued  with 
jMopo  certain  classic  qualities  as  they  understood  them,  with  grace  and 
^SndM  suavity.  But  in  them  was  kindled  a  passion  for  the  beauty  of  the 
living  world  about  them,  and  this  was  the  greatest  force  that 
determined  the  progress  of  their  art.  We  have  now  to  turn  to 
the  masters  of  that  art.  Jacopo  della  Quenjja  f  n7T"^13^)^^^** 
an  artist  of  pronounced  mdividuaiity,  of  bold  vision,  of  noble 
sense  of  form,  and  of  vigorous  thought.    His  power. 


THE  REVIVAL  OF  ART  113 

y»f*fyf ^^  a  cmtuq^  In  fin    "'^  ^:^i^^i»«^gy>]Q  \f^  fqiial     And  in  uto-iseo 
ins  sq>iilcbral  ettigy  of  the  Lady  Ilaria  del  Carretto,  one  of  the 
most  beautiful  figures  in  all  sepulchral  art,  there  is  a  perfect  ex- 
pressicm  of  the  quality  of  repose. 

Two  pairs  of  gates  for  the  Baptistery  of  Florence  ffpff ''^"^ 
dic^ artistic  product  ot  the  nte  ot  ilhil^rti  {i;\y&-iA,^f^).  for  he 
devoted  the  greater  part  of  his  life  to  them,  and  although  he 
executed  other  works  in  the  same  years  they  have  either  <Usag- 
peared  or  are  much  less  successful.    The  first/^jpof  gate^^ere/ —  CuK^ 
for  the  north  portal.    They  are  a  pendant  to  the  gates  madefy    (...       '^ 
^drew  of  Pisa,    Despite  the  graceful  lines  of  the  Pisan  the    , 
panels  of  his  gates  tell  Uie  biblical  stories  with  a  direct  and  some-  caib«x«  r . 
times  incisive  clearness.    It  was  with  a  greater  and  a  more  re-  ^'^ 

fined  grace  that  Ghiberti  told  the  stories  that  he  chose  from  faj  ^ 
the  same  stately  pageant  of  dramatic  narrative.  He  was  far 
more  concerned  than  Andrew  with  the  ^maQQ^r^than  with  the 
matter.  Always  when  one  looks  at  the  panels  of  the  Pisan  it  is 
int  story  that  dwells  in  the  mind;  but  when  one  looks  at  the 
pands  of  the  Florentine  it  is  the  graceful  attitudes  and  the  har- 
monious composition  that  appeal  most  strongly.  So  pleased 
were  the  Florentines  with  Ghiberti's  gates  that  they  removed 
those  made  by  Andrew  from  the  east  portal,  the  main  entrance, 
ta  the  south  portal  where  they  now  stand,  and  commissioned  Ghi- 
berti to  execute  a  set  of  gates  in  their  place.  With  ceaseless  care 
and  infinite  love  the  master  wrought  upon  the  new  gates  for 
twenty-seven  years.  Seldom,  indeed,  has  a  life  been  so  single- 
hearted.  The  result  was  a  thing  of  beauty  of  which  art  had 
never  dreamed  before.  Each  one  of  the  ten  scenes  is  beauti- 
fully staged.  Each  has  an  elaborate  background  of  landscape 
ar  architecture.  In  each  the  figures  are  arranged  with  masterly 
skill.  The  figures,  the  trees,  and  the  temples  recede.  Usually 
in  bas-relief  there  was  only  one  plane,  but  Ghiberti's  figures  are 
arranged  in  three  and  even  four  distances.  Thus  he  achieved 
the  illusion  of  perspective  which  is  an  element  of  painting  rather 
than  of  sculpture.  This  skilful  use  of  many  planes,  this  illu- 
sion of  depth,  has  earned  for  the  panels  the  name  of  "  pictures^ 
in  bronzCa^^'  The  pictorial  character  of  the  gates  is  a  defect  m 
tliat  It  oversteps  the  limits  of  noble  sculpture.  And  another  de- 
fect is  that  each  one  of  the  numerous  figures  in  all  the  panels, 
the  youthful  David  and  the  giant  Goliath,  the  honest  Esau  and  the 
cunning  Jacob,  the  lowly  shepherd  and  the  Queen  of  Sheba, 
moves  to  the  same  melody.  It  is  not  Hebrew  strength  but  Latin 
grace  that  informs  these  gates.    But  the  consummate  skill  and 


114 


THE  RENAISSANCE 


COUF.TZ 
aAOO-1509 


DooaltUo 


exquisite  feeling  of  the  figures  grouped  before  spacious  porticos, 
or  under  spreading  trees,  fading  into  the  dim  distance,  moving 
in  dreamy  grace  to  an  unheard  melody,  are  incomparable.  In 
his  ¥QiithGhiberti  practised  the  art  of  the  p^l^^^mithf  and  these 
gates  are  goldsmith's  work  rather  than  sculpture.  Yet  they  arc 
the  incarnation  of  rhythmic  grace  and  exquisite  beauty,  and  they 

won  from  K[jrhplapge]^  ^h^  name  of  the  Hates  of  ParaHis^ 

Fortunately  the  Italian  sculptors  of  the  Renaissance  were 
turned  from  the  wrong  path  into  which  the  fascinating  pictorial 
art  of  Ghiberti  had  threatened  to  lead  them  by  the  strong  realism 
and  abounding  imagination  of  Donatello  (i386?-i466).  His 
statue  of  St.  ^^ry^rge  illustrates  one  periods  or  aspect,  of  his  genius. 
Without  notable  grace  or  elevation  it  has  a  quiet  dignity  and  the 
vigor  of  youth.  It  is  a  connecting  link  between  Gothic  and 
modem  sculpture.  Under  the  armor  one  feels  the  presence  of 
the  supporting  muscles.  But  more  important  than  the  realism  of 
the  statue  is  its  imagination,  the  expression  of  the  soul  of  the 
manly  and  militant  saint,  ready  to  battle  against  the  prince  of 

darkness.      His  hflS-reliVf  ni  the  ^npnnr^iafir^n  ctifMirft  flip  inq^ypr<> 

of  classic  art.  It  is  a  more  elaborate  piece  of  work  than  the  St. 
"Ueorge,  but  it  has  the  same  simplicity  and  honesty  of  thought, 
the  same  freshness  of  vision,  the  same  vital  realism,  and  the  same 
power  of  imagination.  With  simple  candor  the  story  is  told, 
with  dignity  and  with  grace.  The  ^tgtyj^iLJ^^aKUL  I'^veals  his 
mastery  of  the  classic  principles  and  his  power  to  use  them  with- 
out servile  imitation.  It  is  the  first  nude  bronze  statue  9f  the 
J^fflff\i?i^"^ffi  !?"^  ^*t  is  no  mere  imi^^tion.  The  idealism  of  Greek 
^rt  IS  tempered  with  the  realism  of  the  Florentine.  This  David 
might  have  been  a  goatherd  of  the  Campagna.  This  happy  com- 
bination of  idealism  and  realism  is  also  seen  in  Dona^ello's  famous 
sipjjrjngL  pf  llpry  where  the  single  impression  is  that  of  children 
exultantly  dancing  to  a  joyous  melody.  More  mature  work  may 
be  seen  in  the  masterly  statue  of  the  rntyinffj^r^  nattamplata 
which  still  stands  in  the  Piazza  at  Pa3ua|  the  first  eauestnaa 

statue  since  the  On<^  ni  the  F^p<^rnp']Vi;^;-cti<^  j^iireliiic       In  this 

noble  work  the  splendid  creative  power  of  Donatello  came  to  a 
climax.  All  his  freshness  of  vision,  his  vivid  realism,  is  there. 
The  anatomy  of  the  horse  shows  careful  observation,  and  the 
movement  is  only  slightly  defective.  The  rider  is  a  man  of 
Donatello's  own  time,  a  convincing  representation  of  a  figure 
from  a  Renaissance  pageant.  The  fine  imagination  and  the  inex- 
haustible creative  power  are  there.  The  rider  and  his  horse  are 
correctly  related  to  each  other  and  in  the  man  there  dwells  the 
power  to  lead  his  fellow  men.    The  insight  of  the  sculptor,  his 


THE  REVIVAL  OF  ART  115 


splendid  and  untranuneled  genius,  has  revealed  to  us  the  essen-  ^^^fi7^ 
t^  character  of  the  condottiere.    Donatello  not  only  exerted  a  uoo-isoo 
desiraUe  influence   upon  sculpture  by   offsetting  the  pictorial 
example  set  by  Ghiberti,  but  his  studies  of  the  nude  and  of 
drapery  were  pf  g^^^t  fj^rvice  to  the  painters  who  were  also 
taming  their  attention  to  the  things  of  the  present  world. 

Luca  dellg  P^l?ia  ^T4nfv^Rg^  was  more  Greek  in  spirit  and 
more  sculpturesque  in  his  aims  than  either  Ghiberti  or  Donatello. 
Ghiberti  mii^led  the  plastic  and  the  pictorial.  Donatello  merged 
the  plastic  with  the  dramatic,  and  his  thought  and  feeling  were 
essentially  Italian.  But  Luca  della  Robbia  had  the  Greek  spirit.  Lncadtu* 
He  kept  strictly  within  the  classic  limits  of  sculpture.    His  sub-,  ^**** 

t'ccts  are  ecclesiastical,  angels  and  saints,  Christ  and  the  Madonna, 
iat  in  all  of  his  work  there  is  the  same  theme  of  a  happy  unity 
of  ph3rsical  and  emotional  well-being.     It  is  the  Greek  serenity 
tittering  itself  in  a  modem  tongue.    And  it  is  a  theme  that  can 
I    easily  be  expressed  within  the  comparatively  narrow  limits  of 
sculpture.    Luca  della  Robbia^-jKas  the  inventor  nf  a  ^ew  art. 
He  worked  with  a  new  material^  plazp^  terr^^nHa     Wig  ha«;- 
refief s  were  modeled  in  clay,  and  then  over  the  surface  he  put  a 
coat  of  enamel  in  which  color,  pure  white  and  pale  blue,  was 
sparingly  used.    Thus  he  made  his  figures  clear  and  bright  and 
rendered  them  more  durable.    It  was  a  wise  innovation,  for  the 
ductile  clay  lent  itself  admirably  to  the  delicate  feeling  of  the 
artist.     Luca  della  Robbia's  figures  are  full  of  a  tender  humanity. 
Each  has  its  own  individuality,  but  each  gives  voice  to  the  same 
melody,  each  is  imbued  with  the  same  spirit  of  youth  and  serene 
happiness.    His  tender  pathos  is  not  so  deep  as  that  of  Ghiberti 
and  his  range  and  dramatic  power  are  narrower  and  feebler  than 
those  of  Donatello,  but  in  classical  beauty  and  stately  repose  he 
was  far  nearer  to  the  Greeks  than  were  they,  while  at  the  same 
time  his  lyric  Christian  sentiment  and  appealing  humanity  made 
him,  quite  as  much  as  they,  an  artist  of  his  own  age. 

There  were,  of  course,  many  minor  sculptors  in  the  early  Re- 
naissance period.      ^\nHrPn    ^plla   Pnj^hja    (1437-I528?),    Luca's  litnor 

nephew,  produced  work  equal  to  that  of  his  uncle  in  its  exquisite  *<^^*<>'* 
feeling,  but  in  general  inferior  in  power.  D^siderio  da  Settig- 
2^0^(1428-64)  had  creative  power  and  charm  of  sentiment. 
Yerrocchio  (143,^^)  was  the  creator,  in  part  at  least,  of  the 
wo^H'»  yrfyt^Hsf  equestnan  statue,  that  of  the  condottiere  Col- 
IconL  But  none  of  them  added  any  essential  feature  to  the  art 
which  had  been  so  enriched  by  the  bold  spirit  of  Tacooo  della 
Or^Tiai  ^he  golden  melody  of  Ghiberti,  the  fresh  vitality  of 
Donatello,  and  the  tender  grace  of  Luca  della  Robbia. 


Ii6 


THE  RENAISSANCE 


COUF.VX 


iSTft-Mst    Chur 


^resent 


91m  Ap- 
proMliof 
PalBtliiff 
to  xaf  • 


Its  function  was  not  to  reveal  to  man  the  beauty  of  the 
world,  but  to  help  him  to  win  the  salvation  of  his  soul 

in  the  next.     In  th^  la^y  ^^}^^^  rtmtup^Ji  the^  nnlv  fid|or^  nf 

paintti|g  ygf:^  the  T^ypntin<>  grhnni  It  is  tiue  that  the  Greek 
church  had  been  separated  from  the  Latin  church  for  centuries, 
but  the  painting  of  the  former  dominated  that  of  the  latter. 
Byzantine  painting  was  completely  under  the  spell  of  the  Church. 
The  subjects  of  the  pictures  were  taken  from  the  Scriptures, 
from  the  l^;ends  of  the  Church,  or  from  the  lives  of  the  saints. 
An  arid  symbolism,  void  of  all  initiativi>.  Anmm:^\f^  yrt      If  the 

intant  Child  upon  His  mother's  knee  held  up  two  fingers,  it 
meant  one  thing;  if  his  hands  were  clasped,  it  meant  another. 
Peter  was  known  by  his  keys,  and  Paul  by  his  sword.  Even  the 
colors  were  prescribed.  Blue  became  the  canonical  color  for  the 
outer  robe  of  the  Virgin.  The  style  of  treatment,  the  attitudes, 
the  composition,  and  the  colors,  were  all  determined  by  tradi- 
tional rules.  This  was  done  in  order  to  make  the  didactic  story 
told  by  the  picture  as  quickly  recognized  and  as  easily  intdlig^le 
as  possible.  So  one  painter  simply  copied  the  work  of  another 
who  had  faithfully  obeyed  the  rules.  There  was  no  direct  refer- 
ence to  nature.  All  that  painting  had  to  do  was  to  assist  the 
Church  in  its  teaching.  It  had  no  separate  and  independent 
existence.  But  softly  and  unnoticed  a  new  era  dawned  upon  the 
world.  In  the  thirteenth  century  life  began  to  animate  painting 
once  more  as  it  had  done  in  the  days  of  Greece  and  Rome,  and 
as  it  was  already  doing  in  Italy  in  literature  and  sculpture.  Men 
once  again  became  sensitive  to  the  beauty  of  nature  and  the 
significance  of  humanity.  Among  the  painters  who  first  made 
their  art  more  expressive  of  life  were  Guido  of  Siena.  Giunta  of 
Pisa,  and  more  important^  Cimabue  f  i2iio?~^'^9^)  rJ  Fin^^^yj^ 
Soittfi  ot  Limabue's  frescoes,  sadly  faded,  may  still  be  seen  in  the 
Upper  Church  of  San  Francesco  at  Assisi.  He  was  the  most 
advanced  master  of  his  time.  A  painting  that  has  been  called  the 
first  picture  of  the  Renaissance  is  the  famous  Madonna,  that 
still  is  to  be  seen  in  the  church  of  Santa  Maria  Novella  at  Flor- 
ence. The  author  of  this  altar-piece  is  unknown.  He  was  long 
thought  to  be  Cimabue,  but  now  we  know  that  he  was  a  Sienese, 
and  perhaps  he  was  Duccio.  Whoever  he  was  he  did  not  ac- 
complish a  sudden  advance  in  art.  He  followed  the  traditional 
injunctions  of  Byzantine  conventionalism.  But,  in  a  slight  de- 
gree, he  tempered  the  chill  atmosphere,  and  put  into  his  picture 
a  touch  of  the  tenderness  and  the  pathos  of  the  modem  world 
which  was  unexpressed  by  the  Grc^s  and  maybe  unknown  to 


THE  REVIVAL  OF  ART  117 


them.  Perhaps  this  timid  infusion  of  humanity  was  inspired  by  obat.vi 
the  spirit  of  St.  Francis  of  Assisi  which  **  fertilized  the  religious  isoo-i480 
ideal  with  the  simplest  and   sweetest  instincts  of  mankind." 

Hypin  ('^'^^^^-^ign?}  painted  an  altar-p'^f"  ^^^  ^^"^  ""^^thrdrfll 
of  Siena,  which  even  more  than  the  picture  we  have  just  noticed 
shows Jhe  influence  of  the  new  and  refreshing  stream  of  human- 
ity.  It  bas  more  of  tenderness,  more  of  refinement,  and  a  greater 
itgret  of  grace. 

T!lC"1)^inning  of  the  revival  of  sculpture  preceded  that  of 
painting  by  almost  half  a  century ;  but  the  genius  of  one  great 
miin/iiiiritle  (i7jr6  1336)1  raised  painting  to  so  high  a  pitch  that 
it  overtook  and  overshadowed  the  development  of  sculpture. 
The  traditions  which  Cimabue  and  other  painters  who  preceded  Ototio 
him  and  who  were  contemporaneous  with  him  timidly  attempted 
to  modify,  Giotto  resolutely  abandoned.  With  masculine  vigor, 
and  a  quick,  unfailing  invention,  he  effected  the  regeneration  of 
jttinting.  He  studied  under  Cimabue,  but  soon  the  tradition  of 
the  master  and  the  budding  invention  of  the  disciple  parted  ways. 
With  a  vivid  dramatic  feeling  Giotto  painted  scenes  that  have 
the  air  of  actuality  —  the  T?Tir-if  yrf  Tflprr,  St.  Francis  receiv- 
ing the  Stigmata,  St.  Francis  before  the  Soldan,  the  Death  of  St. 
Francis,  and  many  another  similar  scene.  He  had  a  keen  realiza- 
tion of  the  place  in  which  each  scene  was  enacted,  and  an  extraor- 
dinary faculty  of  design.  He  arranged  each  one  of  his  charac- 
ters in  a  picture  so  that  all  should  contribute  to  the  general 
impression.  The  backgrounds  of  his  pictures  are  varied.  Land- 
scape is  utilized,  though  it  is  but  crudely  mastered;  and  the 
buildings  of  the  time  appear,  though  distorted  by  an  imperfect 
command  of  perspective.  Gesture  is  abundant  and  varied.  It 
explains,  directs,  and  commands.  It  expresses  the  most  varied 
emotioii.  His  figures  are  lifelike,  and  in  their  faces  is  seen  an 
astonishixig  variety  of  feeling.  They  are  faces  that  resemble 
those  of  the  men  and  women  about  him.  He  even  attempted 
portraiture,  painting  among  others  the  p^^^^jt*^  ^  Pnm'fnrn  ^rTTT^ 
the  youthful  rharl^jg  nf  yalmq^  anH  Dante,  with  whom  he  was 
mtimatdy  acquaintecl.  The  results  show  methodical  and  ex- 
perienced observation.  He  painted  at  Florence,  Assisi,  Rome, 
Nafdes,  Gaeta,  Rimini,  Bologna,  Ferrara,  Ravenna,  and,  so  we 
ve  told,  at  Arezzo,  Lucca,  and  Avignon.  Thus  he  traveled  up 
ind  down  the  peninsula,  scattering  with  tireless  energy  tne  seeps 
^rm  BWU  aft'  UllUlSfng  &  vitality  mto  painting  that  has  not  yet 

Dcen  exnausted.  He  stands  apart,  a  towering  figure,  the  Dante 
of  painting.  There  was  no  immediate  successor  to  take  his  place. 
Ris  followers  were  a  feeble  folk,  lacking  his  embracing  human 


ii8  THE  RENAISSANCE 


CBA^.Yi    sentiment,  his  dramatic  force,  and  his  penetrating  insight.    They 
I48a-M     were  unable  to  follow  the  path  that  he  opened  toward  the  study 
of  nature.    Something  more  of  technique  they  learned,  but  their 
art  was  only  an  echo  of  his. 

Almost  a  hundred  years  passed  away  before  a  shy  and  silent 
youth  took  up  the  art  of  painting  where  Giotto  had  left  it,  and 
in  his  brief,  lonely,  and  poverty-stricken  life  gave  it  a  new  im- 
pulse and  left  it  assured  of  its  future  greatness.  Although  Giotto 
infused  life  into  painting  he  had  left  it  with  only  a  secondary 
function  to  perform.  The  chief  service  of  his  pictures  is  to 
assist  in  the  inculcation  of  ecclesiastical  doctrines  or  to  perpetuate 
the  legends  of  the  Church.  P"t  MftV^tn"  (t>|02--2Q?)  lived  at  a 
time  when  the  strong  new  wine  of  naturalism  was  bemg  infused 
into  thought  and  into  art ;  and  he  realized  that  the  highest  func- 
tion of  art  is  to  express  life,     ^r^  Vip  wpt^|  tn  the  world  ^lyiut 

him  for  }}^^  "l^f^Ti?^  ^"^  ^'''  nfiP"'^^'^"^  "'"^  ^^'''^  ^^  j^^r^  ♦^ 
pamtmg  a  new  aim,  a  new  vision.  Perhaps  something  of  this 
new  point  of  view  he  owed  to  Masolino.  his  master,  who  in  his 
turn  had  been  a  pupil  of  Ghiberti,  but  more  than  all  else  it  was 
his  own  creative  power  that  enabled  him  to  open  to  painting  the 
vast  prospect  of  freedom  in  the  portrayal  of  life.  With  l^im 
ecclesiasticism  and  painting  beganto  part  company. 

jre  W<li>  UiiL  ai lli»rwho  dia  not  accept  ttl^'  new  point  of 


view.  The  art  of  Fra  Angelico  (^i^S7-i4^^) ,  a  painter  seem- 
ingly born  out  of  his  due  time,  was  completely  devoted  to  the 
service  of  the  (lAurch.  But  he  was  the  last  of  the  painters  whose 
FnAng^ip  work  is  exclusivefy  religious.  He  was  a  dreamer  who  through- 
out his  cloistral  life  was  absorbed  in  heavenly  visions.  Into  the 
lamp  of  art  he  poured  a  stream  of  religious  enthusiasm  and 
spiritual  imagination  that  caused  it  to  burn  with  a  pure  and 
heavenly  radiance.  In  his  frescoes  the  gold  of  earth  is  always 
glistening  in  a  celestial  blue.  But  though  he  raised  his  eyes  to 
the  sky  and  strove  to  leave  the  earth  with  its  hindering  limitations 
he  did  not  wholly  escape  the  strong  current  of  naturalism  that 
was  flowing  into  the  art  of  the  time.  Despite  the  fact  that 
seemingly  he  shunned  the  world  of  men,  he  was  exquisitely  sensi- 
tive to  the  beauty  of  the  world  of  nature.  And  he  was  not  so 
deficient  in  technique  as  might  be  thought  He  could  draw  fea* 
tures  with  skill,  and  he  had  a  flower-like  grace  of  line  and  color. 
The  sources  of  his  feelings  were  medieval,  but  his  power  of  ex- 
pression is  unmistakably  modem.  A  considerable  part  of  his  life 
was  passed  in  the  convent  of  San  Marco  in  Florence  where  many 
of  his  frescoes  may  still  be  seen  on  the  walls.  Painting  in  fresco 
requires  spontaneity.    The  colors  are  mixed  with  water  and  the 


THE  REVIVAL  OF  ART  119 


pamdii^  is  done  while  the  plaster  is  still  damp.    The  work  has  otjj^vi 
to  be  done  somewhat  rapidly,  and  there  is  neither  the  leisure  nor    i48e-69 
the  chance  of  correction  that  is  afforded  in  oil-painting.    Fresco 
painting  requires  for  success  not  only  spontaneity  but  also  a 
lyrical  spirit.    It  is  a  process  admirably  suited  to  the  art  of  Fra 
Angelico.     More  spontaneous  and  more  exquisite  wall  pictures 
than  those  of  the  corridors  and  cells  of  San  Marco  it  is  difficult  to 
conceive.     One  of  the  most  beautiful  of  them  all  is  that  of  the 
Annunciation  where,  in  the  quiet  twilight,  the  angel  Gabriel  con- 
veys  to  Mary  the  message  that  she  is  to  be  the  mother  of  God. 
It  is  so  exquisite  in  the  beauty  of  its  accessories,  the  gray  walls 
of  the  cloister,  the  pale  rose  of  the  angel's  robe,  the  tender  green 
of  the  leaves  and  the  grass,  the  delicate  grace  of  the  distant 
flowers,  and  it  is  so  single  in  its  thought,  so  child-like  in  its  sim- 
plicity, and  so  imbued  with  the  spirit  of  devotion,  that  its  beauty 
penetrates  the  beholder.    In  the  field  of  painting  the  work  of 
Fra  Ai^elico  was  the  final  and  supreme  flower  of  the  Age  of 
Faith. 

Despite  the  devotion  of  Fra  Angelico,  the  old  lamps  were  sold 
for  new.  Painting  became  more  and  more  concerned  with  the 
present  world,  its  freshness  and  its  wonder,  and  the  spirit  of  the 
time  found  its  way  even  into  the  convents.  Fra  Lippo  Lippi  n«Lippo 
(1406-69)  followed  the  road  opened  by  Masaccfo'ana  depaned  ^^^ 
still  further  from  the  traditions  of  the  past.  He  was  completely 
ci^rossed  in  the  world  about  him,  finding  it  to  be,  poet  that  he 
was,  a  pageant  of  unfailing  interest  (Dnly  the  lingering  spell 
of  the  Church  induced  him  to  paint  religious  subjects.    The  pat* 

lanage  of  art  wa^  sl]iftinpr  frnm  thp  rh^^fr||  1^  »ti^  nVTi  hnrprliprft 

and  \^f  nr^pces.  hut  her  influence  was  Still  potent,  and  even 
tlie  new  patrons  did  not  always  prefer  secular  subjects.  Left  to 
himself  Fra  Lippo  Lippi  would  probably  never  have  chosen 
ecclesiastical  themes.  A  human  quality  pervades  his  work. 
Keen  observation  of  his  fellow-men,  clear  characterization  of  their 
varying  individualities,  and  a  lively  sympathy  with  their  interests, 
are  fully  displayed  in  his  pictures.  For  the  saints  that  he  painted 
he  found  modds  in  the  men  and  women  of  Florence.  He  could 
portray  different  moods  by  means  of  facial  expression,  p^  w^^ 
one  of  the  firs^  if  nc^t  ^iially  f^^  fi^e^^  rx4  fh^  artJnt*^  rr^  ^^^  ^'*- 
mi^lyp  th<*  face  the  window  pi  t|]f  «^«1      This  is  the 

most  important  thing  that  he  contributed  to  the  development  of 
painting.  His  realism  is  never  crude,  but  is  often-times  tender 
and  poetic.  And  though  his  work  is  never  distinguished  by 
devation  of  spirit  or  depth  of  emotion  it  is  always  refined,  lovely, 
and  hannonious.    The  shore  of  romance  had  now  been  reached. 


120 


THE  RENAISSANCE 


i*«M 


IffcnUpui 


BoMmUI 


The  veil  had  been  lifted.  Before  the  eyes  of  men  there  loomed 
the  world  with  all  its  wonderful  beauty  and  its  inexhaustitde 
interest 

When  we  dealt  with  the  revival  of  literature  we  saw  that  many 
of  the  Italian  courts  were  centers  of  literary  production.    Among 
these  courts  was  that  of  the  Gonzaga  family  at  Mantua.    There 
it  was  that  Vittorino  da  Feltre  established  his  famous  school 
And  it  was  to  this  court  that  Mantegna  (1430-1506)  was  sum- 
moned ;  and  there,  with  the  exception  ot  two  years  spent  at  Rome, 
he  remained  until  the  end  of  his  life.    He  was  a  painter  who 
had  been  nourished  upon  antique  sculpture  and  he  had  for  cator 
panions  scholars  who  were  busy  with  the  revival  of  Greek  and 
Latin  letters.     So  because  of  these  external  facts  and  still  more 
because  of  the  predilections  of  his  temperament  he  became  the 
most  RcMnan  of  all  the  Italian  painters.    They  were  Roman  quali* 
ties  that  entered  into  his  work,  sobriety,  dignity,  self-restraint, 
discipline,  and  masterfulness.    His  genius  was  essentially  mascu- 
line.   It  would  be  vain  to  seek  in  his  paintings  for  tiie  facile 
grace  and  the  soft  charm  of  Lippo  Lippi.    Mant^fna  wai,col4 
anH  ij^iRtPr^  though  not  altogether  lacking  in  tenderness.    But  he 
yf^s,  :\  master  of  characterizat;ion.    Every  figure  in  his  pictures 
has  its  own  unique  individuality.    He  was  a  skilful  portrayer  of 
personality.    And  he  was  a  great  technician.    On  the  vaulted 
ceiling  of  one  of  the  rooms  in  the  palace  at  Mantua  he  painted  a 
circular  opening,  surrounded  by  a  marble  balustrade,  through 
which  the  spectator  seems  to  be  looking  at  the  blue  sky  with  its 
white  clouds.     In  boldness  of  conception  and  skill  of  execution 
this  study  in  perspective  excelled  anything  that  had  thus  far 
been  accomplished  in  Italy. 

Of  all  the  artists  of  the  fifteenth  century  none  was  so  gifted 
with  imagination  as  Rotti^^JIH  ( 1^47-1  gio).  and  there  are  few 
who  so  well  represent  that  stage  of  the  Renaissance  in  which  the 
medieval  and  pagan  currents  of  inspiration  were  intermingled. 
Many  of  his  themes  are  the  oft-repeated  ones  of  ecclesiastical 
history,  but  they  are  painted  with  a  romantic  imagination,  and 
they  are  made  vital  by  intensity  of  feeling,  highly  wrought  emo- 
tion, bold  invention,  a  vivid  sense  of  life,  expressed  with  unusual 
power.  It  was  not  only  religious  subjects,  however,  that  he 
painted.  The  poetic  legends  of  the  pagan  world  appealed  to  his 
imagination  quite  as  strongly  as  did  the  saintly  legends.  Bui 
his  Madonnas  are  not  the  simple  saintly  souls  of  Fra  Angdico  j 
nor  are  his  goddesses  the  serene  women  of  an  untroubled  worla 
of  beauty.  Botticelli  was  a  poet  and  a  dreamer,  and  he  was\ 
steeped  in  the   Neo-Platonism  of  his  time.    Like   Pico   della 


THE  REVIVAL  OF  ART  121 


^n^ 


.   OHAir.TZ 


Mifandola  and  others,  he  dreamed  of  the  reconciliation  of  pagan 
xuk  and  Christianity^  and  he  gave  to  this  intdlectual  fantasy  liss-ists 
and  spiritual  yearning  its  highest  pictorial  expression.  It  is  the 
dreamy  poetry  of  this  thought  that  inspires  so  much  of  his  work. 
In  the  faces  of  his  Madonnas  one  always  finds  a  pensive  sadness, 
in  their  eyes  a  melancholy  reverie.  And  the  same  vnstf  ul  pathos 
he  gave  to  his  goddesses.  Both  have  that  Vergilian  sense  that 
makes  the  work  of  Ghiberti  so  melodious.  In  both  he  gave  ex- 
pression to  the  same  sentiment  of  infinite  but  ineffectud  desire. 
In  spite  of  his  vivid  sense  of  reality,  that  gave  to  him  his  tenderi 
and  flower-like  delicacy  of  color,  and  led  him  to  paint  with  such 
delight  the  loveliness  of  youth,  floating  draperies,  filmy  veils,  flut- 
terii^  roses,  the  deep  forest  and  the  blue  sky,  the  green  fields 
and  the  undulating  sea,  he  was  not  interested  primarily  in  the 
external  world.  It  was  a  beauty  more  remote  for  which  he 
jrearaed.  He  did  not  strive  to  lend  glory  to  the  common  things 
of  life,  but  to  reveal  a  world  of  more  recondite  beauty  that  would! 
become  intellig^le  to  the  beholder  when  he  learned  to  share  the  I 
qnotions  that  were  shadowed  forth  in  the  picture.  He  was  tj 
most  sensitive  spirit  of  the  earlv  RenaissancCi^  j^nH  tn  the  moat 
itiDue  mongnt  ot  ihat  a^  he  sought  to  give  expression.^ 

\jr^  S^ff"^*'^IU  ^^^^"•^?^3)  ^^^  ^  great  artist  ot  stem  ideals 
whoded^ed  to  follow  Jb ra  Angelico,  Fra  Lippo  Lippi,  and  Botti- 
celli in  the  valley  of  peace,  in  the  path  of  tender  sentiment  and 
romantic  imagination.  He  traveled  a  more  virile  and  robust  road,  ttgnortat 
the  road  of  vigor  and  dramatic  action.  It  was  an  austere  power 
that  he  possessed,  and  with  it  he  became  a  potent  delineator  of 
physical  life  and  strength  and  action.  Taking  men  and  women 
whom  he  selected  for  their  special  fitness  for  his  subjects  as 
models  he  advanced  the  study  of  the  human  form  for  its  own 
sake  much  further  than  any  ot  nis  predecessors.  In  this  respect 
he  was  the  precursor  of  Michelangelo ;  but  the  masculine  force 
of  Signorelli  was  never  tempered  like  that  of  Michelangelo  with 
a  pathos  of  spiritual  import.  With  great  technical  accomplish- 
ment, in  a  broad  and  swift  manner,  he  painted  noble  and  master- 
ful men  and  women  of  grandeur,  refinement,  and  grace.  His 
work  was  always  seriously  and  even  solemnly  conceived,  and  this 
with  his  sonorous  color,  his  stately  architectural  backgrounds, 
and  his  dignified  composition,  lends  to  it  an  air  of  majesty.  Fral 
Angelico  had  abjured  antiquity  and  Mantegna  had  discarded  the 
tnheritasice  of  thKC  Middle  Ages.  But  up  to  this  time  most  of  the 
artists  of  the  Renaissance  had  striven  to  unite  the  pagan  and  the 
Christian  elements.  It  was  only  very  gradually  that  the  classical 
and  the  modem  were  amalgamated.    We  shall  have  to  wait  for 


122 


THE  RENAISSANCE 


OBAP.VZ 
1466-1524 


•hlrUSp 
«aJo 


Pwmsiiio 


Michelangelo  and  Raphael  to  witness  the  perfect  fusion,  but  the 
works  of  Signorelli  made  a  near  approadi  to  that  unity  which 
later  artists,  who  learned  much  from  him,  were  destined  to 
achieve. 

lirlandaio  ^^^7-p>i)  was  a  skilful  but  plebeian  artist  who, 
lacking  poetic  vision,  saw  only  those  things  that  are  perceived 
by  every  one,  the  superficial  phenomena  of  life,  and  so  did  not- 
ing to  extend  the  vision  of  his  fellow-men,  but  merely  repeated 
it  in  all  its  narrowness  and  imperfection.  Yet  just  jyrauet  h» 
saw  exactly  as  did  the  rest  of  the  world  he  enjoved  a  wide  ooour 
larity,  for  the  world  delights  to  have  its  own  vision  and  its  own 
thought  confirmed.  He  was  a  careful  and  successful  craftsman, 
a  facile  and  prolific  worker  in  fresco,  who  painted  the  wealthy 
bourgeoisie  of  Florence,  their  customs  and  their  costumes,  the 
splendor  of  their  social  functions,  and  who  received  in  return 
their  patronage  and  applause  and  remained  their  favorite  for 
more  than  a  quarter  of  a  century.  As  sj^  t^hP^^^^T  ^^  prigc<M>€Mii< 
the  accomplishments  of  all  his  predecessors.  He  was  able  to 
render  external  things  with  great  exactness.  He  had  an  unusual 
command  of  stately  and  sumptuous  composition.  But  his  pic- 
tures of  biblical  and  l^endary  subjects  have  no  spiritual  feeling 
and  into  them  he  introduced  groups  and  processions  of  wealth} 
Florentines  dresced  in  the  rich  robes  and  jeweled  ornament! 
that  were  worn  so  lavishly  in  his  day.  It  was  the  practice  oi 
many  of  the  Renaissance  painters  to  place  their  patrons  in  th< 
most  august  company,  but  none  had  yet  done  it  so  boldly  and  sc 
baldly  as  did  Ghirlandajo.  His  pictures  may  be  taken  in  at  a 
glance.  There  is  no  wistful  mysticism  to  set  one  dreaming  as  in 
those  of  Botticelli  and  no  enigmatic  smile  to  arrest  one's  atten- 
tion and  to  disturb  one's  thoughts  as  in  ihose  of  Leonardo.  All 
lies  upon  the  surface.  As  a  portraitist  he  was  more  successful 
than  as  a  f  rescante,  but  his  chief  importance  lies  in  his  eypi^^<iipB 
of  the  averag^e  taste  of  his  time. 

From  an  artist  who  was  so  completely  objective  we  turn  to 
one  who  was  just  as  completely  subjective.  £fiCUgiiia— (J44& 
T52i)i  ^^^  painter  of  contemplative  ecstasy,  of  serene  rapture, 
was  an  artist  of  inward  vision,  who  ^ii^  f^*"  ^<g  ,Qing1p  fVi^m^^^a 
mood  of  the  S9UI-  There  is  one  picture,  the  beautiful  triptych 
that  lie  painted  for  an  altar-piece  ^\  Pavi^r  that  may  well  be 
considered  his  masterpiece,  and  that  sums  up  his  genius.  So  we 
may  come  to  know  the  painter  through  a  study  of  this  picture. 
In  the  central  panel  the  Virgin  adores  the  infant  Jesus.  On  the 
left  is  the  archangel  Michael  clad  in  armor.  And  on  the  right 
there  is  the  archangel  Raphael  with  the  youthful  Tobias.    All 


THE  REVIVAL  OF  ART  123 


the  figures  ar^  completely  detached  from  their  surroundings.  OH^*^ 
Steeped  in  quiet  spiritual  ecstasy,  they  are  unconscious  of  the  14S5>168« 
presence  of  the  physical  world.  Perugino  was  the  painter  of  a 
gentle  mysticism,  of  rapt  communion  with^^^  Especially  in 
the  figure  ot  Michael  is  the  painter  successful  in  rendering  the 
lyrical  and  tender  feeling  of  the  soul,  the  beatitude  of  contem- 
plation, that  formed  his  single  melody.  One  must  note,  too,  the 
lovely  Judscape  that  unfolds  itself  so  softly  in  the  background, 
for  it  is  an  essential  oart  of  the  picture.  Landscape  had  been  used 
for  backgrounds  since  the  days  oi  Ciotto,  but  never  had  it  been 
made  so  organic  a  part  of  the  composition,  never  had  it  so  insidi- 
ously infused  the  whole  and  reinforced  its  special  beauty.  A 
serene  charm  of  brooding  peace  has  descended  from  the  blue  sky 
and  suffused  the  quiet  valley  with  its  winding  river,  the  distant 
hilk  and  the  slender  trees.  All  is  steeped  in  a  soft  and  golden 
tight,  in  an  ineffable  beauty,  and  the  beholder,  like  the  figures  in 
the  picture,  seems  to  be  listening  to  some  silent  song.  It  is  in 
this  spiritual  note,  transmitted  to  the  men  who  came  after  him, 
and  finding  its  place  in  the  eclective  ideal  of  art,  that  the  work 
of  Perugino  has  its  chief  importance. 

So  at  last  we  come  to  the  stunmer  noon  of  the  Renaissance  in 
literature  and  art  The  widely  divergent  accomplishments  and 
ideak  of  individual  writers  and  artists  and  the  changing  life  of 
the  time  had  gradually  extended  the  g^amut  of  technic  and  the 
scope  of  art.  The  dawn  of  the  Renaissance  had  found  art  with 
a  restricted  language.  Its  noon  did  not  find  it  with  a  universal 
language,  it  has  not  yet  acquired  that,  but  with  one  that  could 
express  a  wide  range  of  the  emotions  of  humanity.  During  these 
three  centuries  three  streams  had  been  flowing  jp^^  ^rf,  mf(^''^^^^ 
Jifc.  classical  life,  andMX)ntemporary  life.  The  first  one  early 
bcg^  t9  diminish :  the  decline  of  the  second  Iv^pn  at  a  l^ifpr  time  r 

while  the  ^^jrf^r  ^^^  ^^^^  ^^  Till  that  in  finrthlyj  nn  intrrr?t  in  iH 
feat  is  tiuman,  flowed  on  with  ever  increasing  force.  All  three 
fertilized  the  soil  for  the  wonderful  iiarvest  of  the  high  Renais- 
sance. 


CHAPTER  VII 


OHAP. 

vn 

1160-1316 


Xedleral 
8elftnc« 


TH£  REVIVAL  OF  SCIENCE 

I.  Science  in  the  Middle  Ages. 

Z  Thirteenth-Century  Scientists. 

3.  The  Relation  of  the  Revival  of  Science  to  the  Revival  of  Lettciii 

4.  The  Revival  of  Research. 

5.  The  Revival  of  Invention. 

6.  Results  of  the  Revival  of  Science. 

THE  intellectual  strength  of  th^Jliddle  Ages  did  not  lie  fa 
scicmilR'knowleage  and  achievement^  but  in  a  y^'v^^  Tllktr*^ 
ening  of  the  spiritual  imagination.  The  scientific  learning  ci 
the  time,  far  trom  being  a  well-ordered  system  of  knowledge,  was 
merely  a  compilation  of  detached  and  ill-comprehended  frag- 
ments. The  medieval  man  had  little  ability  to  look  things  squarely 
in  the  face ;  he  had  no  clear-eyed  perception  of  the  visible  world. 
It  was  not  his  practice  to  deal  in  an  objective  way  with  the  fads 
of  the  actual  world  about  him.  AH  things  were  veiled  with  a 
mist  of  subjectivit}'.  The  things  that  he  saw  were  treated  as 
symbols,  and  the  things  that  he  heard  were  tmderstood  as  alle- 
gories. "  Supra-sensible  things,"  said  Chrysostom,  "  are  minis- 
tered to  man  by  sensible  things."  The  speculative  life  was  held 
to  be  vastly  more  important  than  the  practical  life.  The  world 
was  but  a  house  of  probation ;  wherein,  then,  lay  the  wisdom  of 
earthly  knowledge?  So  the  medieval  man  devoted  himself  to  the 
study  of  philosophy.  But  his  philosophy  was  defective  and  mis- 
leading. It  suffered  from  the  dictation  of  the  Church.  It  was 
not  a  free  inquiry  into  the  constitution  of  the  world  of  nature 
and  the  world  of  men.  It  was  not  an  unhindered  attempt  to  con- 
ceive of  the  universe  as  a  rational  entity.    Instead  it  was  merely 

ar^  effort  to  put  the  theologv  of  the  tin^e  itytp  a  logjpal  4rxTn%^  ♦^ 


MTOve  that  the  teaching  of  Ithe  r:htirfjT_was3 

univer^ai_anc^  <seli-cr^sistent  ti^h5^jr^^^  To  reinforce 

tfielunassailable  authority  of  the  medieval  Church  the  scholars  of 
the  time  invoked  the  infallible  authority  of  medieval  philosophy. 
So  medieval  philosophy  was  no  more  and  no  less  than  an  en- 
deavor to  give  a  scientific  statement  of  medieval  theology.  An- 
other thing  that  acted  as  an  obstacle  to  the  progress  of  science 
in  the  Middle  Ages  and  deprived  men  still  further  of  the  use  of 


THE  REVIVAL  OF  SCIENCE  125 

flwr  own  eyes  was  a  slavish  devotion  to  Aristotle.^   Not  all  of     ^'^f  ' 

Aristotle's  works  have  come  down  to  us,  and  some  of  those  that      

wc  possess  have  been  recovered  from  the  cataclysm  of  the  bar-  ^^••"^•^^ 
harian  invasions  only  in  an  imperfect  form.    They  may  be  divided 
into  four  groups,  according  as  they  deal  with  logic,  metaphysics 
and  natural  science,  ethics,  and  art    Up  to  the  thirteenth  century 
Aristotle  was  known  to  Christendom  only  through  some  of  his 
logical  writings,  a  part  of  the  Organon  and  the  Categories. 
But  the  Greek  philosopher's  works  can  be  understood  only  when 
studied  in  their  entirety,  and  the  fragments  which  the  medieval 
scholars  possessed  are  precisely  the  ones  that  have  most  need 
of  the  others  in  order  rightly  to  be  apprehended.    Two  other 
things  added  to  the  misrepresentation  of  Aristotle.    The  few 
txx)ks  of  the  philosopher  possessed  by  the  medieval  scholars  had 
come  to  western  Europe  by  way  of  Alexandria  where  they  had 
been  cok>red  with  the  Neo-Platonic  thought,  and  a  number  of 
bodes  not  written  by  Aristotle  were  ascribed  to  him.    The  real 
Aristotle  was  almost  completely  obscured  until  the  thirteenth 
centnry.     Medieval  man  knew  him  only  as  a  logician,  and  even 
in  that  respect  they  knew  him  only  imperfectly.    Thus  deceived 
by  the  infallible  Doctor  they  wandered  still  further  from  the 
path  of  scientific  thought  than  they  had  been  sent  by  their  per- 
?erted  idea  of  the  aim  and  the  scope  of  philosophy.    Logic  was 
the  key  delivered  into  their  hands  by  Aristotle,  and  with  it  all 
the  doors  of  knowledge  should  be  opened.    By  the  aid  of  logic 
alooe  should  all  truth  be  revealed.    It  is  easy  to  see  how  this 
belief  retarded  scientific  progress.    With  this  magic  key  in  one's 
hand,  what  need  could  there  be  to  interrogate  nature?    What 
need  of  careful  and  extensive  observation?    What  need  of  induc- 
tion?   Alas  I  it  was  long  before  the  futility  of  logic  apart  from 
(^Kervatkm  dawned  upon  the  consciousness  of  men. 

By  the  middle  of  the  thirteenth  century  much  of  the  missing  ^^^"^ 
work  of  Aristode  had  been  restored.    The  additional  thought  of 
the  Greek  philosopher  came  into  western  Europe,  in  a  circuitous, 
way,  from  the  Mohammedan  schools  in  Spain.    The  acquaintance!  Th« 
of  the  Mohammedans  with  Greek  philosophy  dates  as  far  back  as|22|[J^^ 
the  eighth  century  when  they  penetrated  into  Persia.    Some  of 
their  translations  of  Aristotle  into  Arabic,  made  for  the  most 
part  in  die  ninth  century  by  Persians  who  had  embraced  the  Nes- 
torian  Uxm  of  Christianity,  were  from  the  Syriac  versions  and 
others  from  the  original  Greek.    It  was  an  impure  form  of  the 
Aristotelian  philosophy  which  they  obtained,  and  it  was  further 
adulterated  by  its  passage  through  the  schools  of  Alexandria, 
that  great  melting  and  mixing  pot  of  oriental  and  occidental 


126 


THE  RENAISSANCE 


1160-1816 


TlMTbir- 
tMBth- 
mbHut 
Fom-Ban- 

BMTfOf  Um 

BrrlTalof 


thought  Still,  with  all  this,  the  Mohammedans  in  Spain  had 
much  of  Aristotle's  philosophy  to  give  that  Latin  Christendom 
had  not  hitherto  possessed.  It  was  gladly  accepted  as  pure  gold, 
and  the  scholar  with  vfhom  the  gift  is  chiefly  associated  is  Averroe^ 
(1126-98)  who  became  acknowledged  as  the  Aristotelian  inter- 
pretcr  far  excellence  2nd  was  known  as  the  "  Great  Commen- 
tator."  with  this  new  guide  the  Europeans  could  proceed  to 
something  like  a  systematic  and  positive  study  of  the  world  in 
which  they  lived.  Later  on,  when  the  menace  of  the  Turkish 
invasion  grew  more  threatening,  scholars  from  the  Byzantine 
Empire  brought  the  writings  of  Aristotle  to  Italy  in  the  original 
Greek  texts.  Then  the  syllogism  was  dethroned  and  investiga- 
tion set  up  in  its  place.  This  substitution  of  experiment  and 
observation,  however  imperfectly  it  was  applied,  for  the  a  priori 
methods  of  scholasticism  constituted  one  of  the  most  potent  of 
all  the  revivals  of  the  Renaissance.  In  every  stage  of  culture  the 
physical  and  the  psychical  faculties  of  man  are  subtly  co-ordinated. 
Bodily  activity  affects  thought,  and  thought  determines  action. 
So  the  mere  dealing  with  external  realities  assisted  in  the  mental 
task  of  understanding  and  interpreting  them.  The  days  of  the 
solitary  thinker,  immured  within  his  cell,  dealing  with  signs  and 
symbols,  were  numbered.  Confidence  in  the  value  of  experience 
steadily  increased,  and  confidence  increased  in  man's  ability  to 
interpret  that  experience.  This  confidence  in  the  mind  of  man 
was  at  once  the  seed  and  the  fruit  of  the  Renaissance.  Without 
it  all  the  vast  change  in  the  life  of  man  that  is  the  distinguishing 
characteristic  of  that  era  would  have  been  impossible. 

Among  the  thirteenth-century  fore-runners  of  the  revival  of 
science  three  names  stand  out  above  all  the  others.  The  first 
is  that  of  Albertus  Magnus  fi  193-1280 |p  a  Dominican  friar,  who 
became  convinced  by  the  study  of  Aristotle  and  by  his  own  inves- 
tigations that  a  science  of  nature^was  p^Sfr^^^.  "The  visible 
world,"  he  said,"^'  was  madeToFTnan's  sake  in  order  that  man 
might  arrive  at  the  knowledge  of  God  through  observation  of  it." 
So  despite  the  hindrances  of  the  time  he  began  to  search  like  any 
modem  scientist  with  the  instruments  of  analysis  and  synthesis 
into  the  secrets  of  nature.  He  catalogued  the  trees  and  plants 
known  in  his  time,  and  he  noted  the  influence  of  the  physical 
environment  upon  human,  animal  and  vegetable  life.  "  All  that 
is  here  set  down,"  he  wrote  in  regard  to  his  work,  "  is  the  result 
of  my  own  experience,  or  has  been  borrowed  from  authors  whom 
we  know  to  have  written  what  their  personal  experience  has  con- 
firmed ;  for  in  these  matters  experience  alone  can  be  of  certainty." 


THE  REVIVAL  OF  SCIENCE  127 

Tbe  seoood  of  these  intellectual  pioneers  was  Roger  Bacon  ( 1214-     ^'^^' 

94),  a  far-sighted  genius,  one  of  the  most  powerful  minds  re-      

corded  in  history,  who  made  many  important  discoveries,  and  to  ^^•^^•^* 
whose  credit  must  be  placed  a  number  of  brilliant  anticipatory 
guesses  of  modem  science.  Greater,  however,  than  any  of  his 
discoveries,  and  more  important  than  all  of  them  combined,  was 
the  scientific  method  that  he  employed.  He  devoted  his  life  to  the 
reformation  of  the  existing  methods  of  scientific  thought.  The 
science  of  the  Middle  Ages  descended  from  the  highest  concept, 
that  of  pure  being,  down  to  individual  things.  It  set  its  seal  of 
disapproval  upon  the  method  of  proceeding  from  the  particular 
units  of  a  class  upwards.  In  other  words  it  declared  the  inductive 
method  to  be  reprobate.  For  its  own  part  it  dealt  only  with  a 
universe  evolved  from  its  own  inner  consciousness.  If  it  dealt 
at  all  with  the  causal  relation  of  earthly  things  it  did  so  only  in 
so  far  as  that  relation  lent  itself  to  the  support  of  the  a  priori 
theories  of  the  time.  "  Secular  science  intoxicates,  but  not  with 
charity,"  said  Bernard  of  Clairvaux :  "  it  obstructs,  but  does  not 
fortify."  Quite  opposite  was  the  opinion  of  Bacon.  He  warned 
his  fcdlowmen  against  servile  subscription  to  the  tradition  of  au- 
thority, declaring  that  it  confined  thought  in  an  ever  identical  cir-^ 
de.  "  We  must  not  give  our  adhesion  to  everything  we  hear  and  I 
aD  we  read,"  he  said ;  "  on  the  contrary,  it  is  our  duty  to  examine 
with  the  most  careful  scrutiny  the  opinions  of  our  predecessors 
in  order  to  add  to  them  what  is  lacking  in  them  and  to  correct 
what  is  false  and  erroneous,  though  with  all  modesty  and  dis-l 
cretion.  For  the  truth  is  ever  growing  by  God's  grace.  It  is  \ 
trae  that  a  man  never  reaches  perfection  or  an  absolute  certitude, 
but  he  is  ever  perfecting  himself ;  that  is  why  it  is  necessary  not 
to  follow  the  ancients  blindly,  for  if  they  could  come  to  life 
again  they  would  themselves  correct  what  they  have  said  and 
would  change  their  mind  on  many  things.  In  like  manner  the 
learned  men  of  to-day  are  ignorant  of  things  the  veriest  school- 
boy will  know  some  day."  To  the  writer  of  these  words  morcL 
than  to  any  other  one  man  is  the  modem  world  indebted  for  the 
perfection  of  the  experimental  method  which  has  been  so  power- 
ful a  means  of  extending  its  mental  horizon.  The  third  of  these 
forerunners  of  modem  science  was  Ravmond  Lull  (1235-1315), 
a  philosopher  half -Mohammedan  ana  bai^-Chnstian,  theologian 
and  naturalist,  missionary  and  troubadour,  the  acutest  intellect  of 
the  Spanish  countries  in  the  Middle  Ages,  whose  aim  it  was  to 
devise  a  system,  an  ars  magna,  for  the  purpose  of  ascertaining  all 
truth  by  means  of  l(^cal  analysis.    His  teachings  gradually  inter- 


138  THE  RENAISSANCE 


rtAoHM- 


ested  his  followers  in  the  observation  of  reality  and  in  convincing 
them  of  the  importance  of  a  systematic  study  of  the  world  of 
"»»•*»•  nature. 

..—This  preliminary  revival  of  science  was  at  once  the  cause  and 

the  effect  of  the  revival  of  letters.  It  received  a  great  impetus, 
as  we  have  seen,  from  the  restoration  of  the  writings  of  Aristotle 
It  quickened  men's  perception  of  facts,  and  it  helped  to  renew 
tiJjN?^  ^^^  connection  between  words  and  things  which  scholasticism  had 
idMiM  to  done  away  with.  It  interested  men  in  observation  rather  than  in 
concepts.  It  taught  them  to  proceed  from  individual  things  to 
abstraction,  from  example  to  application.  Naturally  they  be* 
came  curious  to  know  more  of  that  ancient  world  from  which 
the  intervening  centuries  separated  them.  So  they  looked  about 
them  with  eagerness  for  further  writings  of  those  far-off  Gredcs, 
and  the  more  they  read  the  more  were  Aey  impelled  to  their  work 
of  research  and  invention.  By  his  reading  of  Latin  authors 
Petrarch  was  helped  to  obtain  a  firm  gp'asp  upon  the  fundamental 
principles  of  science.  Such  was  the  inter-relation  of  the  revival 
of  science  and  the  revival  of  letters.  Men  read  the  ancient 
authors,  learned  to  see  with  their  eyes  and  to  imitate  their  observa- 
tions and  experiments.  Then  by  their  own  work  in  observation, 
testing  and  correcting  they  arrived  at  independent  and  addi- 
tional scientific  achievements.  Thus  did  they  take  up  the  threads 
of  scientific  investigation  where  long  ago  they  had  fallen  from 
the  hands  of  the  ancients.  In  medicine  they  went  back  to  Hip- 
pocrates and  Galen,  in  botany  to  Theophrastus,  Dioscorides  and 
Pliny,  in  zoology  to  Aristotle,  in  mathematics  to  Euclid,  Era- 
tosthenes and  Hipparchus,  in  physics  to  Archimedes,  Vitruvius 
and  Heron,  in  astronomy  to  the  Pythagoreans,  in  jurisprudence 
to  the  Corpus  Juris,  and  in  politics  to  Plato  as  well  as  to  Aris- 
totle. A^  t^ie  preat  gri^fjfir^Jnv|^fiptnr^  pf  tht  rras  of_^*^ 
Renaissance  and  thePfotestant  Revolution  lit  t^^^'*'  ^nf^^i^g  r>n 
the  altar  ofthe  ancients.^  Each  of  the  various  revivals  of  the 
tune  contnEufed^lo  tRe  success  of  the  others,  for  each,  in  addi- 
tion to  its  own  definite  contributions  to  knowledge,  aided  in  the 
production  of  an  atmosphere  that  was  favorable  to  the  new 
thought.  So  was  the  narrow  horizon  of  men  pushed  back;  so 
was  self-confidence  restored  to  the  reason  of  humanity. 
Tk«BtTi-  The  revival  of  research  was  witnessed  in  many  lines  of  human 
Im^^  activity.  In  philosophy  the  thought  of  Plato,  Aristotle,  Socrates 
raioMpbj  and  other  Greek  philosophers  and  the  works  of  Latin  philoso- 
JJJi"**"  phers  were  recovered.  As  a  result  the  ancient  systems  were  ex- 
tended and  a  new  philosophy,  of  which  we  are  to  see  something 
in  our  last  chapter,  was  bom.    In  the  field  of  history  we  b^n 


THE  REVIVAL  OF  SCIENCE  139 

listmcdy  to  discern  the  spirit  of  scientific  criticism  in  the  writings     ^"^f' 

»f  Petiarch,  and  it  is  found  as  the  controlling  force  in  the  work      

it  JgOrcnzQ  Vall^.  Indeed,  Valla,  who  was  one  of  the  greatest  ^•••****^ 
listorians  of  the  entire  era,  has  been  described  by  some  writers 
IS  the  fonnder  of  historical  criticism.  He  proved  the  Donation 
if  ConstanHne  to  be  a  forgery.  With  keen  insight  he  made  a 
oitical  examination  of  the  writings  of  Livy,  Aristotle,  and  the 
\TcopSLgitt;  he  described  Moses  and  the  authors  of  the  four 
gospels  as  being  simply  historians;  he  denied  that  the  apostles 
were  the  authors  of  the  so-called  Apostles'  Creed ;  in  his  Notes 
(m  the  New  Testament  he  pointed  out  the  corrupt  state  of  the 
Vulgate  in  comparison  with  the  earlier  Greek  texts ;  and  he  hegain 
an  examination  of  the  scriptural  writings  for  the  purpose  of 
foraiulating  the  standards  of  textual  criticism.  It  is  difficult  to 
realize  how  much  elementary  work  had  to  be  done  by  the  critical 
writers  of  the  early  Renaissance.  For  one  thing,  the  correct 
spelling  of  Latin  had  to  be  determined  again,  and  the  use  of  the 
(fiphthoi^,  a  troublesome  question,  decided.  Many  scholars 
were  en^ged  in  such  work.  It  was  their  endeavor  to  settle  dis- 
puted points  by  appealing  to  the  evidence  of  old  manuscripts, 
corns,  and  inscriptions,  by  scientific  investigation  and  comparison. 
But  in  Y^lhif  to  whom  the  modem  world  is  so  greatly  indebted, 
we  see,  more  clearly  than  in  any  one  else,  that  the  writers  nf  thp 

no  ni<>anQ  givffn  over  to  a  m<*ry  b1i>f1  af1min^t^>!i  f^f 

nn   fVi#»  rftpfrury  fViA  prlnr^plA^  ^f   priti'lrictrji 
wtij^^    thiy    atig|rgftted    W<Tft    gfifi"    ^^HH^d    ?ff't*^fft 


The  medieval  universities  recognized  mathematics  as  a  standard 
study,  but  the  subject  appears  to  have  been  kept  in  a  very  sub- 
ordinate position  by  the  favorite  studies  of  logic,  philosophy,  and 
thedogy.  The  knowledge  of  the  Arabic  notation  had  become 
ee&eral  throughout  Europe,  but  it  was  not  the  custom  to  redcon 
trambers  with  pen  or  pencil.  Instead,  Qountgim^jyith  which  com-" 
paratively  complex  calculations  could  be  madfe,  were  employed. 
The  only  books  on  arithmetic  that  had  been  left  by  the  ancients 
were  those  of  Euclid,  and  they  were  neglected  in  the  Middle 
Ages.  So  arithmetic  was  regarded  merely  as  an  aid  in  carrying 
OQ  the  affairs  of  daily  life  and  not  at  all  as  a  deductive  science. 
Only  such  rare  geniuses  as  Leonardo  of  Pisa,  Jord^nus  of  ^^r- 
ony,  and  Ro^r  Bacon,  in  the  beginning  of  the  thirteenth  cen- 
lUiy,  i-ose  to  a  higher  level ;  but,  because  they  were  too  far  in 
advance  of  their  time  they  did  not  exercise  a  widespread  influ- 
ence  upon  their  contemporaries.  Still  from  this  time  onward  a 
dow  evolution  of  arithmetic  may  be  perceived.    Geometry  was 


im 


{ 


130 


THE  RENAISSANCE 


^P^'     in  much  the  same  condition.    All  through  the  medieival  ccntmiei 
only  the  propositions  of  Euclid  were  given ;  the  proofs,  by  a  ni- 

uoo-ieos   guiar  error,  being  suppressed.    Theoretical  geometry,  then,  tad 
in  reality  no  existence.    Practical  geometry,  however,  was  tBed 
with  great  skill  by  the  arcmtect^  Of  the  tfane,  and  it  was  aka 
employed  bv  the  surveyort^    Bgf flfe  the  opening  of  the  thirteenth 
century  Mohammedan  mathematics  had  begun  to  penetrate  inlD 
western  Europe.    Part  of  the  mathematical  knowledge  of  the 
Moslems  was  derived  from  the  Greeks  and  part  from  Hindoo 
sources.    With  this  aid  they  had  acquired  an  excellent  command 
of  arithmetic,  algebra,  geometry  and  trigonometry,  though  k 
cannot  be  said  that  they  extended  the  bounds  of  mathematiciS 
science.    It  was  principally  from  Spain  that  their  mathematicSr 
like  their  philosophy,  filtered  into  western  Europe.    But  Greek 
mathematics,  like  Greek  philosophy,  was  brought  direct  to  Italy 
later  on  when  Byzantine  scholars  began  to  flock  to  the  peninsula 
to  escape  the  on-coming  Turk ;  and  by  the  middle  of  the  fifteenth 
century  the  principal  results  of  the  ancient  Greek  studies  were 
accessible  to  western  students.    Then  the  discovery  of  printJng 
madcJhe  dissemination  of  the  fathered  and  combined  knowledge 
j^aratively  easy  matter^   The  next  century  and  a  hal^  wit- 
nessed notable  developments  in  syncopated  algebra  and  trigo- 
nometry and  symbolic  algebra,  and  it  saw  the  beginning  of  the 
science  of  dynamics.    Among  the  most  important  mathematicians 
of  these  years  were  Cardinal  Nicholas  of  Cusa  (laoi-di),  who 
opened  up  new  paths  in  mathematics  and  physics,  and  who  in 
astronomy  prepared  the  way  for  the  great  discoveries;  Regio- 
montanus  (1436-76),  the  greatest  mathematician  of  hts  time; 
T^nn^rim  da  Vhii;rTiAC2~igiQ^.  whose  suggestions  in  mathe- 
matics were  of  greater  value  than  his  accomplishments ;  Niccolo 
Tarta^^lia    (1500-57),  who  contributed  more  than   any   othS^ 
scholar  ofTiis  generation  to  the  development  of  algebra ;  Girolamo 
rarrfan  fi';oi--76).  a  gambler  and  perhaps  a  murderer/'whose 
genius  was  allied  to  madness,  but  who,  in  his  Ars  Magna,  gave 
to  the  world  the  best  text^book  on  algebra  that  had  thus  far  been 
published;  and  F^nrysrn^  Vieta^  (i 540-1603),  who  wrote  the 
first  book  on  symbolical  algebra. 

With  the  ^f;y<*lnpt^^t  of  mathematics  that  had  taken  place 

during  the  fourteenth  and  fifteenth  centuries  it  was  possible  to 

rnri^H  \q  n<>w  discoveries  in  astronoiQy>    And  .asUonooijLJi!^ 

#>1p<^  by  the  pursuit  of  astrology^  It  was  necessary  for  the 

ArtNAomy  astrologers  to  determine  the  position  of  the  heavenly  bodies  as 
they  were  at  the  hour  of  the  birth  of  the  person  whose  career  was 
to  be  foretold.    In  order  to  do  this  correctly  it  was  necessary  to 


TkAEtvi- 
Til  of  B*- 

in 


THE  REVIVAL  OF  SCIENCE  131 


employ  the  same  scientific  calculation  that  is  required  in  astron- 
omy.   The  practice  of  astrology  was  carried  on  in  both  Greek 
and  Latin  Christendom  all  through  the  Middle  Ages  and  it  re- 
sulted in  an  increase  of  astronomical  knowledge  and  a  develop- 
ment of  astronomical  processes.    To  this  were  added  the  achieve- 
ments of  the  Mohammedans.    Then,  about  the  middle  of  the 
thirteenth  century,  an  Englishman,  John  nf  Holywooj.  better 
known  as  Sacrobosco,  summed  up  his  Treatise  <>»  t^^  Sspher^ 
aU  the  geometrical  knpwledg^  n^^rpco^iy  for  th^  study  of  as- 
^^S^amu    Yet  despite  the  fact  that  the  western  Europeans  were 
now  equipped  with  far  better  apparatus  for  the  development  of 
astronomy  than  any  previous  people  had  been  a  pause  of  fully 
a  century  occurred  in  the  progress  of  the  science.    Then  two 
Germans,  George  of  Peuerbach  (1423-61),  and  Regiomontanus, 
owing  not  a  little  to  the  inspiration  of  Nicholas  of  Cusa,  inaugu- 
rated another  period  of   development    The   prevailing  astro- 
nomical theory,  laid  down  fourteen  hundred  years  before  by 
Ptolemy,  averred  that  the  earth  is  stationary  and  that  the  apparent 
movements  of  the  planets  and  the  sun  and  the  stars  around  it  are 
actual  movements.    Six  centuries  before  the  opening  of  the 
Christian  era  Pythagoras  had  dimly  suggested  that  the  earth  and 
the  planets  might  rotate  about  a  central  sun ;  and  three  hundred 
years  later  Aristarchus  had  advanced   the  same  theory   with 
greater  precision.    In  the  fifth  century  of  our  own  era  it  made 
a  furtive  appearance  in  the  writings  of  Martianus  Capella.    Then 
it  remained  concealed  for  a  thousand  years  until,  inaccurate  and 
mcomplete,  it  came  to  light  again  in  the  writings  of  Nicholas  of 
Cusa.    Almost  a  century  later  Nicholas  Copernicus  (1473-1543), 
the  first  great  fotmder  of  modem  astronomy,  a  simple  scholar 
who  lived  in  Poland  far  out  on  the  frontier  of  civilization,  gave 
^  thg  wQ^lfj  n  (^jjsttnr^  §fatement  of  the  theory  that  the  farth 
turns  upon  its  own  axis  and  ^\^j  together  with  j^^  p^anPtQ,  tp^ 
YPI^^  arnntiH  the  cnn     Each  of  the  prcvious  Statements  of  the 
theory  had  been  a  simple  hypothesis  given  with  more  or  less 
plausibility.    The  claim  of  Copernicus  to  be  the  real  discoverer 
of  the  theory  that  bears  his  name  rests  upon  the  fact  that  he 
was  not  content  to  advance  it  as  a  mere  statement  but  that  he 
supported  it  with  a  strict  train  of  reasoning.    The  new  theory 
(fi^laced  the  earth  from  its  central  position  in  the  universe,  and 
contradicted  many  statements  in  the  scriptural  writings.    The 
patient  scholar  well  knew  that  the  result  of  his  long  and  lonely 
researches  would  arouse  a  storm  of  opposition,  so  he  delayed 
the  publication  of  his  discoveries  until  he  was  an  old  man. 
When  be  lay  paralyzed  upon  his  death-bed  he  intrusted  the  publi- 


U60'164t 


TSa  THE  RENAISSANCE 


<'^^'     cation  of  his  great  work,  De  revoluHonibus  orbium  coelestiium, 

to  Rheticus,  one  of  his  pupib.    Rheticus  rashly  intrusted  the 

'••^•^  final  care  of  the  printing  to  Andreas  Osiander,  a  Protestant 
theologian  of  Nuremberg,  who  slipped  in  an  anonymous  preface 
in  which  he  stated  that  it  was  not  the  intention  of  G>peniicus  to 
state  the  theory  as  a  fact  but  merely  to  suggest  it  as  a  hypothesis. 
The  deception  succeeded.  Only  seventy  years  later,  when  the 
theory  was  boldly  announced  as  a  fact  by  Galileo  and  supported 
by  the  revelations  of  his  telescope,  did  the  papal  authorities  pro- 
ceed against  it.  Galileo  (ig&}.-i6^)  was  an  Italian  scientist 
whose  chief  work  was  that  of  a  pioneer  in  mechanics  and  ej 
daily  in  dynamics.  He  was  also  an  astronomer,  and  in  iT 
virtually  inventing  the  instrument,  he  constructed  a  telescope 
that  had  the  power  of  magnifying  thirty-two  times.  With  the 
discoveries  he  made,  which  included  the  satellites  of  Jupiter,  he 
confirmed  the  theory  of  Copernicus.  Alarmed  for  the  credit  of 
the  Bible,  whose  statements  relating  to  matters  of  science  were 
universally  accepted,  the  Inquisition  declared  the  system  he  up- 
held to  be  false  and  threatened  the  scientist  with  the  rack;  and 
the  Congregation  of  the  Index  forbade  the  reading  of  any  book 
that  advocated  it.  The  "  starry  Galileo  "  may  be  r^arded  as  one 
of  the  chief  workers  in  the  revival  of  science  because  he  did 
much  to  remove  the  obstacle  of  medieval  Aristotelianism  from 
the  path  of  progress.  In  his  own  day  Aristotle  was  a  fearless 
investigator  who  strove  to  inform  himself  of  the  facts  of  the 
subjects  which  he  studied  and  to  base  all  his  conclusions  and 
principles  upon  the  ascertained  facts.  In  the  field  of  politics 
there  was  an  abundant  supply  of  facts  at  his  disposal,  his  pro- 
cedure was  scientific,  and  so  his  conclusions  are  of  great  value 
even  to-day.  But  in  the  field  of  natural  science  the  supply  of 
facts  was  far  from  being  ample,  and  observation,  as  we  practise 
it,  was  unknown  to  him.  He  was  unable  to  distinguish  between 
fact  and  fable.  When,  therefore,  his  writings  that  deal  with 
natural  science  were  regarded  as  a  bible  by  the  men  of  the  Mid- 
dle Ages,  when  it  was  believed  that  all  information  regarding  the 
world  of  nature  was  to  be  found  in  them,  they  became  a  bar  to 
progress.  It  was  Galileo's  great  work  to  point  men  awav  from 
cast-irOlT^ristotei^nism  to  the  world  of  nature  itself. 
This  revolt  against  the  authority  of  the  past  paved  the  way"  for 
the  expanding  science  of  the  future. 

One  cannot  say  that  anything  like  a  science  of  physics  existed 
in  the  Middle  Ages.  Some  facts  were  retained  from  the  days 
of  Greece  and  Rome  and  others  were  restored  by  the  Mohamme- 
dans.   But,  at  the  best,  the  laws  and  the  facts  of  nature  that 


THE  REVIVAL  OF  SCIENCE  133 


were  known  to  the  ancients  were  comparatively    few.    Sim-     ohap. 

pie  instruments  for  the  measurement  of  time,  such  as  water-      

docb  and  sun-dials,  the  Greeks  had.    They  knew  the  law  of  the  ^••^^•*« 
reflection  of  light,  the  law  of  the  lever,  and  certain  of  the  laws 
of  sound  and  hydrostatics.    The  Romans  seem  not  to  have  made 
any  advance  upon  the  knowledge  of  the  Greeks  in  physics ;  and 
the  interest  of  the  Mohammedans  was  confined  very  largely  to 
optics.    Medieval  Christianity  had  checked  the  development  of  TteB^vt- 
the  physical  sciences  for  more  than  fifteen  hundred  years.    It  Jjj^"^ 
had  produced  a  soil  in  which  it  was  impossible  for  the  seeds  of  piuj^m 
science  to  grow.    Instead  of  questioning  nature  for  her  facts 
in  order  to  discover  the  laws  which  those  facts  reveal  it  was  the 
practice  to  summon  nature  solely  for  the  purpose  of  supporting 
theology.    And  instead  of  going  directly  to  nature  men  went  to 
Aristotle.    Science,  then,  if  such  it  may  be  called,  was  studied 
in  the  library  and  not  in  the  laboratory.    Jlio  prinnpul  phynirnl  ^ 
problem  discussed  in  the  Middle  Ages  was  that  of  matter,  of  the 
ition  oi  natural  t)odies.    'Ihe  discussion  was  earned  down 
into  the  kenaissance  period  by  such  thinkers  as  Albertus  Magnus, 
Roger  Bacon  and  Nicholas  of  Cusa,  but  for  the  most  part  it  was 
purely  academic.    The  real  contributions  to  physics  consisted  of 
work  like  that  of  Galileo,  to  whom  we  are  practically  indebted 
for  the  establishment  of  the  science  of  dynamics.    By  observing 
the  oscillations  of  a  swinging  lamp  in  the  cathedral  of  Pisa  he 
discovered  the  isochronism  of  the  pendultmi;  and,  in  opposition 
to  the  teaching  of  Aristotle,  he  demonstrated  that  the  rate  of 
descent  of  falling  bodies  is  not  proportional  to  their  weight.    He 
also  made  discoveries  in  the  laws  of  projectiles,  and  did  much  to 
anticipate  the  laws  of  motion  as  eventually  demonstrated  by 
Newton. 

■Chemistry  was  bom  of  alchemy,  the  pseudo-science  that  sought 
to  transform  base  metals  into  gold  and  silver  and  to  prolong  tub^ti- 
human  life  indefinitely.    It  was  but  a  scanty  knowledge  of  ?jji^' 
chemistry  that  the  Middle  Ages  inherited  from  antiquity.    And  oumittey 
because  of  the  fact  that  throughout  the  period  chemistry,  like 
every  other  branch  of  science,  was  dominated  by  traditional  belief, 
very  little  was  added  to  the  store  until  the  time  of  Roger  Bacon. 
That  alert  and  indefatigable  investigator  discoverecHnany  clieni- 
cals  and,  what  was  stQl  more  important,  many  chemical  laws. 
But,    while    doubting    whether   transmutation    had    ever   been 
achieved,  he  believed  in  its  possibility.    Gradually,  however,  men 
b^ian  to  nq^lect  the  formulas  couched  in  meaningless  gibberish 
and  ihe  magician's  wand  of  the  ''  black  art,"  and  then  alchemy 
began  to  change  into  iatro-chemistry.    The  first  great  scholar 


134 


THE  RENAISSANCE 


ORAF. 


1878-1541 


Th«Bol- 
▼alof  Be- 

EoSlOfy 
andBoi- 


who  taught  that  the  aim  of  chemistry  is  not  the  production  of  the 
philosopher's  stone  was  PaQcdsus  (1493-1541)9  a  Swiss  savant 
of  rare  originality,  who  definitely  connected  chemistry  with 
pham^cy.  The  mutual  mter-action  oi  cnemistry  and  medicine, 
resulting  in  the  enrichment  of  each  of  them,  is  the  princq>al 
characteristic  of  the  science  throughout  the  period  in  its  develop- 
ment that  ended  with  the  middle  of  the  seventeenth  century. 

The  same  fundamental  defect  that  had  hindered  the  progress 
of  the  exact  and  the  physical  sciences  in  the  Middle  Ages,  the 
dependence  upon  the  traditions  of  antiquity  and  the  consequent 
failure  to  observe  phenomena  carefully  and  systematically,  oper- 
ated to  prevent  the  development  of  the  natural  sciences.  But 
gradually  the  fabulous  lore  of  the  medieval  "  Bestiaries "  was 
supplanted  by  the  knowledge  that  the  stimulated  curiosity  of  men 
had  brought  to  light.  With  the  dawn  of  the  Renaissance  men 
awoke  to  a  realization  of  the  beauty  of  the  world  in  which  thqr 
lived.  This  drew  people  to  nature.  They  began  to  study  not 
only  her  physical  laws  but  also  her  forms  and  her  works  in  plant 
and  animal  life.  The  zoological  works  of  Aristotle  were  restored 
and  his  method  of  observation  was  noted.  Physicians  especially 
devoted  themselves  to  these  new  studies.  Chief  of  them  was 
Conrad  Gesner  (i'%i6-6^^.  a  distinguished  scholar  who  issued 
editions  of  Greek  authors  and  wrote  an  important  History  of 
Anitnab.  Interest  in  animals  became  widespread.  Menageries 
were  kept  by  nobles  and  rich  burghers,  and  the  breeding  of  horses 
for  the  perpetuation  and  increase  of  desired  characteristics  was 
undertaken  in  a  systematic  manner.  Hand  in  hand  with  the  new 
interest  in  animals  went  a  new  interest  in  plants.    BgtanicaLg^fr 

one  being  founded  at  Padua  in  1525  and  another  at  Pisa  in  1544. 
The  works  of  Albertus  Magnus  contain  remarks  on  the  organic 
structure  and  physiolc^  of  plants  that  could  have  been  obtained 
only  by  a  careful  examination.  Gesner  did  considerable  work  in 
botany.  He  was  the  first  to  devise  a  methodical  system  of  classi- 
fication based  on  the  fructifying  organs.  Among  other  botanists 
of  the  sixteenth  century  were  Jero^^f  ^^Jf  (149&-1554),  whose 
Neu  Kraeuierbuch  was  so  popular  that  it  ran  through  ten  suc- 
cessive editions ;  Lionel  Fuchs  (TCpi-^V  whQ  with  keen  obser- 
vation described  some  four  hundred  plants]  and  Valerius  Cordu^ 
(1515-44),  whose  botanical  explorations  were  carried  on  in  many 
parts  of  Europe.  Thesejdd^herbalisjt.T  wrrr  intrrntrd  in  plnnti 
chieflv  for  their  meHirinal  virtneg^  but  their  discoveries  led  to  a 
more  purely  scientific  interest  A  banning  was  also  made  in 
the  science  of  mineralogy.    Chemistry  deals  with  the  constitutents 


THE  REVIVAL  OF  SCIENCE 


135 


vn 


;hool  '«•'• 


of  a  bodjr  and  with  its  properties.    There  was  needed  a  science 

to  deal  with  the  external  characteristics  of  things.    It  was  this 

office  that  was  undertaken  by  mineralogy.    The  father  of  the  ^*^*-**''' 

new  science  was  George  Apicol^  (i4Q4?~nf'|'|)^  who  in  1530 

issaed  the  tr^^ti^^Di^  r^  ftf^taUita. 

The  ancients  had  possessed  only  a  slight  knowledge  of  anatomy. 
They  held  the  dead  body  as  being  especially  sacred,  and  so  the 
cadaver  was  examined  but  rarely.  The  Greeks  made  some  n«B«fi- 
progress  in  the  science  of  anatomy ;  and  at  the  AlpjcanHriai 
Hko^yfiftU  was  publicly  practised  for  the  fifst  tjmg.  Then  the 
darkness  of  the  medieval  centuries  intervened  and  it  was  not 
until  Mohammedan  knowledge  and  skill  penetrated  into  western ' 

Elffope,   through    Sp^ir    '^'"    |iiim'|iyally   ihrnug^   the   school    at 

Salerno,  that  tnere  came  a  revival  of  the  science.  At  the  medical 
school  of  MoQtpellier  the  cadavers  of  criminals  were  regularly 
dissected;  in  1308  the  senate  of  Yenice  provided  that  each  year 
a  hniTKni  l^y  shnnlH  he  examined ;  early  in  the  same  century 
Mundinus.  at  the  University  of  Bologna,  publicly  dissected  sev- 
eral  bodies;  and  dissection_w5^S  prarTlc#>H  a^  PragiiP;"tr(;)m  tKe 
ycnr  foundation  of  th^  TTntvprQity  in  tj^R  But  nowhere  was 
there  made  a  careful  and  systematic  studv  of  the  structure  of 
the  body._  All  that  was  done  was  to  open  the  great  cavities  and 
len  examine  the  viscera  in  a  superficial  manner.  Great  re- 
liance was  placed  upon  the  Greek  authorities,  Galen  and  Hippoc- 
rates, and  upon  the  Mohammedan  commentators.  First  of  mod- 
em  men  to  insist  that  the  stn^^ty^^  "^  "^^"  ghonlH  be  learned  from 
a  systematic  examination  of  the  human  V^Hy  ttistpaH  of  by  de- 
pending  upon  authority  was  Andreas  Vesalius  (i^ia.-6a,).  of 
Brussels.  In  1543,  in  his  De  J^utM^i  i^grpor^Jahrira^  he  gave 
to  the  world  the  first  careful  description  of  the  body  based  upon 
actual  observation.  Many  errors  of  the  old  authorities  were  cor- 
rected, and  students  were  continually  urged  to  test  every  state- 
ment by  going  to  the  ultimate  source  of  information,  the  body 
itself.  By  thus  substituting  the  method  of  interrogatjop  p^^^^r^ 
for  the  medievaf  dependence  upon  authority  he  founde^^  in  a 
time  when  the  path  o^  scientific  progress  was  beset  with  every 
form  of  superstition  and  hampered  with  crass  credulity,  the 
ron(ifm  science  of  anatgmy^  He  proved  the  fallacy  of  the  belief 
in  the  one  "incorruptible,  incombustible  bone,  the  necessary 
nucleus  of  the  resurrection  of  the  body.'*  With  this  work  and 
that  of  his  students  and  followers  there  gradually  disappeared 
the  old  superstitions  about  the  body;  and  dissection  came  to  be 
regarded  as  a  necessary  and  desirable  means  of  obtaining  knowl- 
edge of  the  structure  of  the  body  and  its  functions.    Other  in* 


136  THE  RENAISSANCE 


Mid8iir< 
g«rj 


Qg^'     vestigators  who  contributed  to  the  development  of  anatomy  were 

M^yhael  Servetus  (iS0Q-i5S5),  who  discovered  the  lesser  drcu* 

"^••^•^^  lation  of  the  blood  between  the  heart  and  the  lungs;  Efiptac^^o 
fi';20?-74)T  ^  papal  physician^  who  described  the  Eustachian_ 
lube  and  th<^  FiiR|^^Viian  valye^  who  is  the  first  histologbt  of  whom 
we  have  any  record,  and  who  shares  with  Vesalius  the  honor  of 
founding  the  science  of  anatomy;  Fallopio  (i523?-62)9  who 
taught  anatomy  at  Ferrara,  Pisa,  and  Padua,  and  whose  name 
was  given  to  the  tube  he  discovered;  Fabrizio  (i 537-1619),  who 
discovered  and  described  the  valvular  folds  in  all  the  veins  of  the 
extremities;  and  W^]1i^in  f^nrv^y  ^n;78-i6|;]7))>  who  demon-* 
stcated  the  general  circulati^"  of  ^^^  ^^Og^ 
The  knowledge  of  the  medical  practice  of  the  Greeks  had 
nsB«Ti-  become  lost  to  a  large  extent  in  the  period  of  the  barbarian 
Siwiii^  invasions.  All  through  the  Middle  Ages  medicine  was  nearly 
as  dogmatic  as  theology.  What  need  of  chemical  preparations 
when  relics  were  at  hand?  Here  and  there,  however,  in  defi- 
ance of  the  edicts  of  the  Qitu'ch  and  in  the  face  of  the  supersti- 
tion of  the  time,  was  to  be  found  a  layman  or  an  ecclesiastic  who 
based  his  practice  upon  study  rather  than  upon  tradition.  Then 
the  Mohammedan  physicians,  whose  knowledge  had  come  down 
to  diem  frUiu  llie  Greeks,  ifiid  who  were  held  in  high  repute, 
exerted  a  great  influence.  From  Spain  and  from  Salerno  they 
introduced  new  preparations  into  the  European  materia  medica 
and  made  known  the  first  elements  of  pharmaceutical  chemistry. 
So  at  the  end  of  the  Middle  Ages  some  of  the  European  physi- 
cians made  valuable  observations,  studied  cases  and  wrote  his- 
tories of  them,  and  taught  at  the  bed-side.  Among  the  things 
they  accomplished  were  the  segregation  of  erysipelas  and  the  pre- 
vention of  its  spread,  and  the  partial  c^ontrol  of  the  spreadj)f 
leprosy.  The  revival  of  learning  enabled  them  to  study  medi- 
cine from  Hippocrates  and  Galen.  Thus  gradually,  along  with 
the  increase  in  knowledge  of  the  organs  of  the  body  and  their 
functions,  there  was  developed  the  science  of  medicine.  The 
diseases  of  the  different  organs  were  studied  and  remedies  based 
upon  experiments,  and  to  which  chemistry  contributed,  were 
prescribed.  Surgery,  which  is  differentiated  from  medicine  by 
its  treatment  of  disease  conditions  with  mechanical  methods 
rather  than  by  the  administration  of  medicines,  underwent  a  like 
development,  ^pffat^fi"^  Wfir^  p^rfnrtriA/l  (vn_ various  p^rta^of 
the  jody,  wine  wasused  as  an  antiseptic,  and  two  or  three  forms 
of  anaesthetic  wereemployec 

So  did  there  come  about  a  gradual  revival  of  research.    Very 
early  the  Middle  Ages  disprized  the  method  of  observation  and 


THE  REVIVAL  OF  SCIENCE  137 


vn 


mducdon.    **  It  is  not  ignorance  that  makes  us  think  lightly  of 
sdence  in  general/'  said  Eusebius,  the  most  learned  man  of  the 
day,  about  the  opening  of  the  fourth  century,  "but  contempt  "^'^^^w 
for  useless  labor,  while  we  turn  our  souls  to  better  things/' 
^What  need  was  there  to  keep  trimmed  and  replenished  th<^Jana. 
scitoCC  when  in  the  heavens  there  shone  the  sun..jof 


theolc^?    llie  revival  of  research  was  one  of  the  most  im-  zapoiw 


portant  phases  of  the  Renaissance  and  one  of  the  greatest  serv-  ^^^. 
ices  ever  conferred  upon  mankind.    In  all  its  different  fields  it  TaiofB*- 
was  essentially  the  same.    Of  course  it  varied  somewhat  in  its  ■••»•** 
superficial  aspects  of  the  differing  conditions  necessitated  by  the 
differing  subject-matter  of  the  several  fields;  but  in  every  line 
of  investigation  the  fundamental  process  of  observation,  experi- 
mentation, and  induction,  and  the  guiding  spirit,  were  essentially 
the  same.    Like  any  other  revival  of  the  era,  and  like  all  progress 
that  we  witness  to-day,  the  revival  of  research  was  a  normal 
sequence  of  the  revival  of  individuality.  '^ 

Side  by  side  with  the  revival  of  research  went  a  renewal  of  timb*^ 
invention,  the  first  notable  instance  of  which  contributed  to  the  J^21p?iii 
development  of  navigation,  to  the  ability  of  men  to  direct  the  vaTifa- 
coursc  of  vessels  and  to  ascertain  their  positions.  First  in  point  **•"* 
of  importance  was  the  invention  of  the  rompas*^  Instances  have 
been  cited  o^  the  use  in  China  of  a  needle  rubbed  with  a  lode-^ 
stone  to  give  it  the  power  of  polar  direction  as  far  back  as  the 
second  century  of  the  Christian  era;  but  the  first  mention  of  it 
in  Europe  has  been  traced  to  AlpyanHpr  ^^f  Jsfpr^Vham.  about  iioo. 
^4  ^  PMyflt*  dp  Prrrvini,  nhrnt  T?"f^  It  seems  to  have  been  in 
general  use  in  Europe  at  that  time,  for  both  of  these  writers 
speak  of  the  *^  ugly  black  stone  "  not  as  the  guarded  secret  of  a 
few  scholars,  but  as  a  common  possession  of  seamen.  So  it  was 
probably  employed  by  the  Genoese  explorers  when,  in  the  last 
quarter  of  the  thirteenth  century,  they  made  their  first  explora- 
tions in  the  Atlantic.  The  magnetic  needle  was  made  more  use- 
ful by  connecting  it  with  a  compass-card.  Thus  mariners  were 
provided  with  an  efficient  portable  guide,  and,  as  far  as  simple 
steering  was  concerned,  they  were  rendered  independent  of  the 
heavenly  bodies  and  emancipated  from  the  coasts.  This  made 
possible  a  momentous  revolution  in  geogpraphical  knowledge.  As 
early  as  the  eleventh  century  the  astrolabe^  an  instrument  in- 
vented by  the  Greeks  and  used  chiefly  to  ascertain  the  time  of  day, 
was  borrowed  from  the  Mohammedans.  It  enabled  seamen  ap- 
proximately to  determine  positions.  Regiomontanus  improved  it, 
but  since  then  it  has  been  superseded  by  more  perfect  instru- 
ments.   The  quadrant,  an  ancient  instrument  for  measuring  aiti- 


138 


THE  RENAISSANCE 


OSAP. 

vn 

1800-1600 


▼alof  In- 
Trattonin 
tli«  Field 
•f  War 


tudesy  indispensable  in  astronomy,  surv^ing  and  gunnery,  was 
improved ;  and  a  similar  instrument,  the  sextant,  useful  to  navi- 
gators because  it  enables  them  to  measure  angles  between  distant 
objects,  was  invented.  Then  with  the  aid  of  these  and  otfier 
instruments  the  science  of  navigation  was  gradually  developed 
and  a  g^eat  impetus  was  given  to  exploration  and  commerce. 
By  the  end  of  the  thirteenth  century  the  use  of  the  compass,  the 
banning  of  scientific  surveying,  and  the  ascertaining  of  posi- 
tions by  astronomical  calculation  had  produced  a  marked  advance 
in  the  mapping  of  coast  lines.  Reliable  maps  were  an  indispen- 
sable aid  to  seafarers,  and  sg  the  improvement  in  cartography 
is  an  important  feature  in  the  prosecution  uf  expluiailOn  and  The 
expansion  of  commerce  as  well  as  in  the  perfecting  of  the  science 
of  navigation.  The  scientific  charting  of  coasts  may  be  said  to 
begin  with  the  "handy-maps,"  the  poriolani,  of  the  Mediter- 
ranean, the  earliest  specimen  of  which  that  has  come  down 
to  us  is  the  Carte  Pisane  that  dates  back  to  the  opening  of 
the  fourteenth  century.  As  a  result  of  these  inventions  mar- 
iners came  to  have  a  working  knowledge  of  oceanic  conditions 
and  the  science  of  navigation  witnessed  a  continued  develop- 
ment. 

Invention  produced  an  equally  great  revolution  in  the  art  of 
war.  Qunpowder  may  have  been  known  to  Bartholdus  Schwartz, 
for  it  was^ mentioned  in~i220  in  his  writings.  Forty-seven  years 
later  Roger  Bacon,  who  perhaps  had  learned  of  its  use  in  Spain, 
described  it  after  a  careful  examination  of  several  forms.  He 
was  certain  that  men  would  eventually  learn  to  control  it  and 
that  then  many  things  could  be  accomplished  that  previously  had 
been  impossible.  The  means  of  controlling  explosions  was  pro- 
vided by  the  invention  of  cannon.  At  first  mortars  and  cannon 
were  made  of  brass  and  threw  stone  projectiles.  After  a  while 
they  were  put  on  wheels  and  iron  projectiles  were  employed. 
By  the  end  of  the  fourteenth  century  they  were  used  extensively 
over  Europe.  Ii^  i'^7^  the  g^i^  thkt  \^  fired  t>y  powder^  begyi 
to  displace  the  crossbow  2X}(\  the  l^nprhow^  which  for  several 
centuries  had  been  the  chief  weapons  oT  infantry.  The  first 
guns  were  very  cumbersome,  but  gfradually  they  were  made  some- 
what lighter.  The  method  of  igniting  the  powder  remained 
very  crude  for  a  long  time,  and  as  a  consequence  the  bow  and 
arrow  still  figured  in  war  in  Cromwell's  time.  As  a  sequence 
of  these  inventions  both  tactics,  the  handling  of  military  forcesj 
and  strat^y,  the  directing  of  the  larger  movements  of  a  war, 
were  changed  and  developed.  They  came  to  be  something  of 
a  science  as  well  as  an  art ;  ^stematic  observations  of  the  clashi^ 


THE  REVIVAL  OF  SCIENCE  139 


of  armies  were  made  and  books  were  written  upon  military     ^^^* 

manceuTers.  

Invention  also  came  to  the  aid  of  book-making.    Before  the  i*^*-^*^ 
opening  of  the  tenth  century  the  use  nf  papyj-yq^  th<>  writing 
material  made  from  the  reed  of  that  name  grown  in  the  delta 
of  the  Nile,  was  generally  abandoned,  and,  although  instances 
of  its  later  use  may  be  found,  parchment  came  to  be  the  ma-  znTwitioB 
tcrial  commonly  employed.     But  the  cost  of  parchment  was  a  SJ^J' 
serious  problem  which  even  the  use  of  palimpsests  failed  to 
solve.    So  when  a  new,  cheap,  and  suitable  writing  material 
made  its  appearance  it  was  seized  upon  with  avidity.    Paper 
was  invented  at  a  remote  time  in  eastern  Asia.     Its  manufacture 
became  known  to  the  Mohammedan  world  after  the  capture  of 
Samarkand  in  704,  where  the  conquerors  became  familiar  with 
its  merits.    By  the  middle  of  the  thirteenth  century  jtwas  used 
to  a  considerable  extent  in  the  Byzantine  empire;  an3"]Ljygas 
Brst  manufactured  in  western  Europe  by  the  Mohammedans  in 
Spain  and  n^  -^i^^ilv.^  Cotton  was  the  raw  material  used  in  the 
Mediterranean  coimtries,  but  when  the  industry  crept  northward 
woolen  rags  were  employed  and  then,  in  the  first  years  of  the 
fourteenth  century,  linen.    The  making  of  books  in  the  scrip- 
ioria  of  the  medieval  monasteries  was  a  slow  and  laborious 
process.     Every  volume  had  to  be  transcribed  anew.    The  cost, 
therefore,  was  very  high;  and  there  were  many  more  oppor- 
tunities for  mistakes  to  occur  than  there  are  in  the  making  of  a 
book  to-day.    These  disadvantages  were  not  overcome  when 
the    universities    became    great    book-making    establishments. 
Books  were  still  so  costly,  being  five  times  as  expensive  as  they 
were  after  the  invention  of  printing,  that  in  public  places  they 
were  secured  with  chains.    Between  the  writing  of  books  and 
the  printing  of  them  with  movable  type  there  was  an  intervening 
process.    Books  were  printed  from  engraved  blocks.    An  entire 
page  was  engraved  on  a  single  block.    Most  of  these  blocks  were 
devoted  to  pictures  with  a  few  explanatory  words ;  but  here  and 
there  an  entire  page  of  text  was  engraved  on  a  block.    At  first 
all  the  blocks  were  of  hard  wood,  but  later  on  copper  ones  were 
used.    These  block-books,  that  were  printed  only  on  one  side 
of  the  page,  seem  to  have  had  their  origin  in  the  Netherlands; 
and  perhaps  Laurence  Koster  (i37o?-i44o)  of  Haarlem,  who 
has  been  credited  by  some  writers  with  the  invention  of  movable 
type,  was  an  engraver  of  these  printing  blocks.    The  invention 
of  printing  with  movable  type  was  a  gradual  process.    It  re- 
sulted from  a  long  series  of  experiments  carried  on  by  various 
craftsmen  in  different  places.    The  principal  merits  of  Johannes 


I40  THE  RENAISSANCE 


0B4F. 


1870-1«OO 


Gutenbeiy  (i^oo?-68?)  of  M^itijgj  who  in  1450  produced  a 
practical  printing-press,  seem  to  have  been  his  ability  to  pn>- 
duce  a  complete  book  with  the  new  process,  to  teach  others  to 
do  so,  and  to  improve  the  mechanism  of  the  press  so  as  to  mak 
possible  the  printing  of  larger  sheets.  Gutenberg,  then,  was  oot 
the  first  printer,  for  books  were  printed  from  engraved  blodcs 
before  his  time.  Nor  was  he  the  first  printer  of  books  from 
movable  type,  for  the  Chinese  employed  separate  type  four  cen- 
turies before  his  printing  press  was  set  up  in  Mainz.  But  he. 
wactViA  fi|-cf  Fiir/>pM||  fn  make  practiq^l  thp  pr?9ff^^  9^  prilTt^ 
with  ^justable  tvoe.  The  first  book  that  was  issued  from  his 
new  press  was  a  Latin  version  of  the  Bible  that  was  printed 
somewhere  between  1454  and  1456,  a  copy  of  which  in  the  year 
191 1  was  sold  for  fifty  thousand  dollars,  by  far  the  highest  price 
ever  commanded  by  a  single  book.  The  city  of  Mainz  in  which 
the  modem  art  of  printing  was  inaugurated  was  not  a  university 
town,  but  was  the  most  important  commercial  center  of  the  mid- 
dle Rhine  district ;  and  from  the  beginning  the  new  art  was  in 
the  hands  not  of  scholars  but  of  craftsmen.  So  in  Germany 
the  choice  of  the  books  to  be  printed  was  determined  very  largdy 
by  the  interests  of  the  reading  public.  The  reverse  was  true 
in  France  where  the  first  printers  were  connected  with  the  Uni- 
versity of  Paris.  The  new  art  quickly  spread  to  other  places. 
In  1462  Mainz  was  captured  and  plundered  by  the  soldiers  of 
Archbishop  Adolph  of  Nassau,  and  the  printers  fled  to  other 
towns.  Strasburg,  Cologne,  Zurich,  Augsburg,  Ulm,  Nurem- 
berg, Leipzig,  Frankfort,  and  especially  Basel,  where  the  larger 
works  of  Erasmus  were  printed  by  Froben,  all  became  centers 
of  the  new  industry.  In  1464  German  printers  set  up  the  first 
Italian  printing-press  in  the  Benedictine  monastery  of  Subiaco; 
and  six  years  later  German  craftsmen  b^;an  the  work  of  print- 
ing in  Paris.  Th^  introduction  of  prit^^ipg  into  England  was 
due  more  than  to  any  one  else  to  William  Cajpton  whose  long 
residence  in  Bruges  had  made  him  acquainted  with  the  produc- 
tion of  books  on  the  continent,  and  who  from  his  press  at  West- 
minster issued  ninety-eight  works,  principally  romances  trans- 
lated by  himself  from  the  French.  Nearly  all  the  great 
publishers,  such  as  Aldus  of  Venice,  Froben  of  Basel,  Estienne 
of  Paris,  and  Caxton  of  London,  as  well  as  many  of  the  less 
important  ones,  carried  on  their  work  not  merely  with  a  view 
to  pecuniary  gain  but  from  a  real  love  of  truth  and  learning. 
All  of  them  made  sacrifices  for  the  perfecting  of  their  art  and 
the  production  and  distribution  of  the  books  they  loved. 
The  application  of  research  resulted  in  inventions  in  still 


THE  REVIVAL  OF  SCIENCE  141 


otfier  fields  —  in  optics  and  in  the  measurement  of  time.    Mir-     ^^5^- 

lors  of  polished  bronze  were  in  common  use  among  the  Egyp-      

tians,  Gredcs  and  Romans.  The  Greeks  had  also  mirrors  of  i^*-**®* 
pdisliied  silver,  and  the  Romans  of  polished  obsidian.  Mirrors 
of  artificial  glass,  marking  a  great  improvement  upon  their  pred-  XiiTMitioB 
ecessors,  were  first  made  in  Venice  about  the  opening  of  the  ]S52*' 
foarteenth  century,  and  in  the  next  century  their  manufacture 
became  a  r^ular  industry.  Roger  Bacot^  disc^yrrffl  miny  nf 
ih^  pniPfir^^  Q^  concave  and  convex  lenses.  At  first  they  were 
made  of  gum  or  crystalline  stones,  but' in  the  early  seventeenth 
century  they  were  made  of  artificial  glass.  Their  power  to 
magnify  minute  and  distant  objects  was  of  incalculable  aid  in 
the  revival  of  science.  Roger  Bacon  has  also  been  credited 
with  the  invention  of  spectacles,  with  having  evolved  the  idea  of 
using  concave  glasses  for  far-sighted  eyes  and  convex  for  near- 
sighted ones;  but  some  writers  attribute  the  invention  to  Ales- 
sandro  di  Spina,  a  Florentine  monk.  Bacon  invented  t^fi  tfiip- 
soDpc^but  it  did  not  come  into  practical  use  until  the  opening 
of  the  seventeenth  century  when  it  was  used  by  Galileo.  After 
that  it  was  employed  in  many  lines,  in  navigation,  surveying  and 
astronomy.  Roger  Bacon  and  others  used  simple  miVrnRmpiv^j 
b^t_^ft  first  to  construct  a  compound  microscope,  which  allows 
a  far  closer  and  more  careful  focus»  w??  ^a/^iiariac  Janssen^  a 
yectacle-maker  of  MiddlebuTgr^in  Holland.  Among  the  pre- 
cursors of  the  modem  clock  were  the  sun-dial,  the  water-clock, 
and  the  hour-glass.  The  invention  of  the  true  clock  is  an  un- 
certain matter.  Perhaps  the  first  of  which  we  have  record  is 
the  one  sent  by  the  Sultan  of  Eg3rpt  to  Frederick  II  in  1232.  A 
great  clock  was  made  in  1326  for  St.  Albans,  a  town  near  Lon- 
don. In  1379  a  clock  was  set  up  for  Charles  V  of  France.  The 
law  of  the  pendulum,  which  was  discovered  by  Galileo,  was  prob- 
ably applied  to  clocks  about  the  middle  of  the  seventeenth  cen- 
tuiy.  The  invention  early  in  the  sixteenth  century  of  a  spiral 
spring  to  take  the  place  of  a  weight  to  drive  the  wheel-train 
produced  a  portable  time-piece ;  and  although  these  first  watches 
were  heavy,  large,  and  cumbersome  in  comparison  with  those 
of  to-day  they  were  useful  for  ascertaining  the  difference  of 
longitude  between  two  places  and  for  many  other  purposes.       - 

The  revival  of  the  spirit  and  the  process  of  research  and  the  timSo- 
application  of  the  knowledge  thus  obtained  and  the  method  of  ^[J^ 
experimentation  to  the  daily  affairs  of  life  had  the  most  mo-  th«B«. 
mentous  results  to  society.  It  was  at  once  the  result  and  the  ^^ 
cause  of  that  irrepressible  curiosity  that  forever  inquires  into 
the  constitution  of  the  universe,  seeking  to  learn  its  laws  and 


142  THE  RENAISSANCE 


vn 

1276-1600 


to  acquire  control  of  its  forces.  The  scientific  method  is  a 
stiff  and  formal  process;  and  it  is  fitted  to  deal  only  wilii 
ntmiber  and  with  measurement,  which  implies  number.  It  ii 
powerless  to  demonstrate  any  proposition  in  which  the  emotiooi 
are  directly  concerned.  We  are  coming  to  see  that  all  that 
science  can  do  is  to  afford  us  an  orderly  way  of  looking  at 
things,  a  convenient  way  of  arranging  phenomena,  and  that  it 
is  incapable  of  giving  us  knowledge  or  truth  in  the  philosophical 
signification  of  the  words.  Too  long  have  we  set  up  scientific 
truth  as  the  type  of  all  truth.  Too  long  have  we  ignored  the 
imagination  as  a  means  of  ascertaining  truth.  In  our  concern 
to  be  rid  of  a  dictatorial  theological  ortiiodoxy  we  have  allowed 
an  almost  equally  dictatorial  and  intolerant  scientific  orthodoxy 
to  take  its  place.  But  nevertheless  the  recovery  and  develop- 
ment of  the  scientific  method  has  been  one  of  the  most  potent 
of  all  the  forces  making  for  the  emancipation  of  man.  And 
just  as  the  spirit  and  method  of  research  are  greater  than  any 
of  their  concrete  results,  so,  too,  the  spirit  of  invention  and 
machinery  that  was  restored  to  man  and  developed  in  the  era 
of  the  Renaissance  is  of  greater  value  than  any  of  the  actual 
inventions.  The  sense  of  machinery,  like  the  exclusive  claims 
of  science,  has  its  danger.  It  has  caused  us  to  lose  something 
of  the  sense  of  personality.  In  our  age  of  machinery  we  are  all 
too  prone  to  regard  a  man  exclusively  engaged  in,  say,  making 
pin-points  as  a  machine  and  not  as  a  human  being.  But  most 
undoubtedly  the  sense  of  machinery,  the  inclination  to  inven- 
tion, has  performed  a  service  past  all  calculation  in  helping  man- 
kind along  the  road  of  progress.  And  the  immediate  results  of 
the  concrete  inventions  can  by  no  means  be  n^lected.  They 
made  possible  an  age  of  exploration  and  a  vast  expansion  and 
change  of  commerce.  They  leveled  the  walls  of  castles  and 
rendered  of  little  avail  the  baronial  keeps  that  hitherto  had  been 
impregnable.  They  put  power  into  the  hands  of  the  middle 
classes  by  providing  them  with  artillery  and  thus  abolished  feud- 
alism; and  they  gave  to  civilized  peoples  a  greater  power  over 
savage  and  barbaric  races.  By  making  literature  cheaper  and 
more  accessible  they  scattered  everywhere  the  seeds  of  the  new 
thought.  ''I  do  not  think  I  am  far  out,''  said  Lorenzo  de' 
Medici,  "  when  I  say  that  a  century  hence  the  peasant  will  be 
able  to  purchase  the  volumes  that  are  now  within  the  resources 
only  of  the  prince.  As  waters  cover  the  sea,  so  I  believe  will 
literature  cover  Europe  from  end  to  end."  They  created  pub- 
lic opinion  and  thus  introduced  a  new  and  potent  factor  into  all 
the  affairs  of  life.    So  it  was  that  the  revival  of  science  revealed 


THE  REVIVAL  OF  SQENCE  143 

the  mvalidity  of  the  old  method  of  thought  and  provided  one  in  ^^y^' 

its  place  which,  though  far  from  being  sufficient  in  itself  to  give      

to  men  knowledge  of  the  truth  of  things,  was  yet  an  incalculable  ^^^^^^ 
advance  upon  the  one  it  displaced. 


r  1 


-■ 


CHAPTER  VIII 


THE  REVIVAL  OF  CX)NSCIENCE 


vzn 

8S-«8 


I>tllllitiOB 

of  "Oon- 
■ci«iiGe" 


Wh7tli« 

IndiTidnal 

Oontcienoe 

Wm  Be- 

plaoadbj 

Zmpllelt 

TaLth 


I.  Conscience  in  the  Middle  Ages. 

3.  The  Critics. 

3.  The  Ecclesiastical  Reformers. 

4.  The  Biblical  Reformers. 

5.  The  Mystical  Reformers. 

THE  revival  of  conscience  was  tli<>  ^g|  r^f  all  tt^y  ^*^^\ 
bloom.  Conscience  and  religion,  with  which  it  is  insep- 
arabljrSSSSciated,  are  always  the  last  things  to  be  changed  in  an 
age  of  new  birth,  for  only  as  new  generations,  nourished  tipoii 
new  thought,  come  into  power  can  they  be  altered.  Th^  take 
hold  of  what  is  most  sacred  and  permanent  in  human  life.  Thqr 
are  the  most  vital  of  all  the  concerns  of  man.  The  questions  oi 
conscience  and  religion  are  practically  one  and  the  same.  They 
determine  the  conduct  of  life,  and  so  they  are  of  permanent  and 
fundamental  importance  to  history. 

The  word  "  conscience,"  derived  from  the  Latin  conscieniia, 
means  a  combined  knowledge,  a  knowledge  of  some  matter  ob« 
tained  by  the  consensus  oi  ones  faculti^  In  popular  usage  h 
nieaili^  llie  p6wei,  or  tne  iacuity,  with  which  one,  when  con- 
fronted by  two  alternatives,  decides  between  right  and  wroi^. 

In  the  first  generation  that  followed  the  death  of  its  founder, 
Christianity  had  for  its  basis  the  simple  and  fundamental  ethical 
precepts  of  the  Sermon  on  the  Mount.  It  was  possible  for  ever> 
one,  under  that  condition,  even  for  the  unlettered  Syrian  peas- 
ants who  formed  the  first  Christian  community,  to  decide  few 
himself  all  questions  of  right  and  wrong  and  thus  to  direct  him- 
self in  the  new  way  of  life.  And  that,  a  new  and  a  better  daflj 
life,  was  all  that  Christianity  was  in  those  early  years.  Bui 
as  the  years  went  on,  as  Christianity  gradually  won  its  way  intc 
the  sophisticated  and  subtle  civilization  of  the  Greeks,  the  em- 
phasis of  the  new  teaching  was  changed  from  conduct  to  creed. 
It  was  the  Greek  world  with  its  great  cities,  not  the  simple  coun- 
tryside of  Galilee,  that  gave  to  the  dominant  Christianity  of  the 
subsequent  centuries  the  body  of  doctrine  upon  which  it  has 
placed  its  chief  emphasis.    That  doctrine,  which  by  gradual 

144 


THE  REVIVAL  OF  CONSCIENCE  145 


aocratkm  grew  to  be  of  great  proportion,  soon  came  to  be  beyond 
the  knowledge  of  the  laity,  and  in  many  points  it  became  so 
sobde  that  it  proved  to  be  beyond  their  understanding.  An  •••**^ 
authoritative  external  custodianship  and  interpretation  were, 
therefore,  fdt  to  be  necessary.  Thereafter  the  individual  was 
no  loQger  free  to  determine  for  himself  what  things  are  neces- 
sary for  salvation,  nor  was  he  free  to  interpret  according  to  his 
own  reascm  the  creeds  that  were  declared  by  the  Church  to  be 
essential.  So,  from  the  age  of  Constantine^  when  the  first  great 
council  of  the  Church  performed  its  task  ofdeciding  what  creeds 
were  to  be  deemed  essential  and  how  they  were  to  be  formulated, 
and  when  for  the  first  time  the  arm  of  the  State  enforced  the 
decisions  of  the  Church,  to  the  age  of  Abelard.  when  a  great 
effort  was  made  to  enfranchise  the  human  minci,  the  individ}ial 
OMyciencc  suflFered  a  strange  eclipse.  In  those  intervening  cen- 
toies  even  the  very  word  "  conscience,"  in  the  sense  now  cur- 
rent, virtually  disappeared  from  the  life  of  men.  The  individual 
coosdence  was  replaced  by  implicit  faith  in  the  external  author- 
ity of  the  Church.  The  notion  that  within  one's  self  is  to  be 
found  a  trustworthy  criterion  of  truth,  of  right,  of  goodness,  was 
discredited  and  foiigotten.  It  came  to  be  held  that  the  highest 
doty  of  man  is  to  accept  blindly  the  guidance  of  the  Church ;  that, 
as  the  heavens  are  above  the  earth,  so  the  thoughts  of  God  are 
h^;her  than  those  of  men  and  need  not,  indeed,  seem  reasonable 
to  man  in  order  to  be  authoritative  and  true. 

The  doctrine  of  implicit  faith  it  as  old,  at  least,  as  Gregory  of 
Nazianzus  (325?-90?),  who  admonished  those  desiring  baptism 
(0  accept  inq>licitly  the  orthodox  Christian  dogmas  of  that  time 
and  to  trust  to  him  for  their  defense.     ^!l  imp*""^!  ^'^'^^^  ^f  l8f   Th« !>§▼•& 
which  made  it  a  civic  duty  upon  the  part  of  all  the  inhabitants  2»doo-^ 
of  the  Empire  to  acknowledge  the  orthodox  doctrine  of  the  Trin-  triiM  of 
ity,  whether  or  no  they  could  understand  it,  lent  the  sanction  of  pj^^ 
the  State  to  this  doctrine  of  implicit  faith.    The  doctrine  grew 
apace.    Axigustine  (354-^30)  boldly  declared  that  he  believed  in 
many  articles  only  upon  the  authority  of  the  Church,  that,  indeed, 
it  was  only  upon  the  authority  of  the  Church  that  he  believed 
the  Goq>d  itself.    Thus  the  Church  acquired  an  immense  im- 
portance.   She  was  present  in  every  act  of  faith.    Faith  sa^jk 
from  the  level  of  reason  to  that  of  niere  obedience..    Every  diffi- 
tull  UUguia  was  rel^iated  to  tiie  background  as  far  as  the  indi- 
vidual conscience  was  concerned.    Inner  conviction  gave  way  to 
external  authority.    It  is  true  that  Augustine's  doctrine  of  faith 
is  amoi^  the  most  obscure  of  his  dicta,  but  in  his  De  Utilitate 
Crtdendi,  one  of  the  most  carefully  written  of  all  this  ardent 


146  THE  RENAISSANCE 


9^^'     writer's  works,  the  statement  Quod  inteUigimus  igitur,  debemus 

rationi,  quod  credimus  auctoritati,  quod  opinamur  errori  distinctly 

•••"*"•  excludes  any  individual  experience  of  faith.  Strong  support  for 
the  doctrine  of  implicit  faith  was  given  by  the  utterances  of 
Pseudo-Dionysius  the  Areopagite,  who  probably  flourished  in 
either  the  fourth  or  the  fifth  century  and  whose  writings  exercised 
an  enormous  influence  upon  medieval  thought.  Grtgqry  the 
Great  (540?-6o4)  lent  the  pontifical  sanction  to  the  doctrine. 
Anselm  (1033-1109),  one  of  the  great  teachers  of  the  Church, 
declared  the  dogmas  of  the  Church  to  be  identical  with  divine 
revelation.  His  maxim  credo,  ut  intelligam,  non  qtuero  inteUi- 
gere,  ut  credam  signifies  the  complete  subordination  of  the  rea- 
son, of  the  individual  conscience,  to  external  authority.  ItjDB- 
j[uires  faith,  and  nothing  but  faith,  whether  rational  grounds  can 
be  iUUULLd  iuf  lliat  taiih  or  not.' 

The  fircf  tiq[p|>1e  pppnsitinn  fn  thft  Hnrfrin^  of  implicit   faith 

^was  made  by  the  eP7?npntly  rri^ji^;^!  minH  nf  Py^er  Abelard  f  107Q- 

1142),  who,  in  his  Introductio  ad  Theologiam,  contended  that  the 

OppofitioB  Christian  should  be  ready  to  give  an  account  of  the  hope  and  the 

J^J^^yj,      faith  that  are  in  him.     M^  ro^^ired  th^^  not  only  should  the  mere 


of  zapiieit  wording  of  the  articles  of  faith  be  grasped,  but  that  there  should 
also  be  a  certain  knowledge,  even  though  it  be  only  o^  an  approx- 
imate character,  of  the  grounds  of _  the  dogmas  to  be  believed,. 
Faith  may  be  above  the  reason,  he  admitted,  but  it  should  never 
'  e  contrary  to  reason.    Qnly  so  is  it  possible  to  accept  f a?»h>  f f^**- 

^that  which  jg  rnntraty  tnypgj^ffn  rannn^  proceed  from^Goj.      He 

did  not  discard  authority.  Reason  and  authority,  in  his  thought, 
mutually  supplement  each  other.  But  realizing  that  implicit  faith, 
unintelligent  and  mechanical  faith,  that  makes  no  effort  to  under- 
stand and  then  to  test  its  accepted  dogmas.  Imperils  the  freedom 
of  inquiry  and  the  pursuit  of  knowledge,  he  was  its  sworn  foe. 
Abelard,  in  the  first  half  of  the  twelfth  century,  stood  alone  in 
his  advocacy  of  the  desirability  and  the  necessity  of  the  exercise 
of  the  individual  conscience.  For  a  long  time  his  voice  was  that 
of  one  crying  in  the  wilderness.  Yet  it  was  not  possible  that  his 
thought  regarding  the  function  and  the  reliability  of  the  con- 
science, of  the  Intimacy  of  the  exercise  of  the  reason,  in  matters 
of  daily  conduct  and  religious  belief  should  fail  to  affect  his  con- 
temporaries. The  sharp  discussions,  so  deeply  colored  with  bit- 
terness, even  with  malice,  that  were  provoked  by  his  teachings 
and  writings  were  followed  by  modified  forms  of  the  doctrine 
of  implicit  faith. 

Victor  of  %-  Hugo  (1996-1141)  said  that  faith  may  proceed 
from  knowledge  or  from  affectus,  2l  desire  to  believe.    The  lat- 


THE  REVIVAL  OF  CONSCIENCE  147 

ter  ktnd  he  declared  to  be  the  more  praiseworthy.    But  he  ad-     ^"SfSS' 
fflitted  that  a  c^tain  amount  of  ImowledeemusLalways  be  boui 


np  witfi  faith/o^erwise  faith  would  lack  any  directive  power,  ^i*^^*** 
Lvch    BWtBtrd   of    Clairvaux    (lopi-iigj),   the   greatest   ex- 
ponent of  the  ideal  of  medieval  monasticism  in  the  period  of  its 
highest  development  and  chief  of  the  many  foes  of  Abelard  and  B^giiiniiiffi 
his  rationalism,  admitted  the  desirability  of  an  infusion  of  knowl-  Ji^o?*" 
edge  into  faith.    'By  the  time  of  William  ot  Auxerre  ( r*-i2i5)   ooaidwee 
dli>lhlCt  piog'iess  had  been  made  in  the  revival  of  the  individual 
conscience.    It  is  sufficient  for  the  simple  lajrmen,  William  con- 
tended, if  they  believe  certain  articles  explicitly,  upon  the  basis 
of  reason,  and  others  implicidy,  upon  the  word  of  their  pastors ; 
but  the  pastors  themselves  are  obliged  to  believe  all  articles  ex- 
plicitly, for  they  are  bound  to  give  an  account  of  the  faith  that 
is  in  them. 

But  the  advocates  of  implicit  faith  abated  nothing  of  their 
claims;  indeed.  Innocent  III  (1161-1216)  greatly  extended  its 
scope  and  exalted  its  value.    According  to  him,  should  man 
implicitly  believe  an  erroneous  doctrine  he  is  not  guilty  of  heresy,  nttiitanm 
but,  on  the  contrary,  wins  and  retains  merit  merely  because  he  ^^ 
believes  that  the  Church  believes  as  he  does.    William  of  Au-  eaiMof 
vergne  (?-i249),  bishop  of  Paris,  insisted  that  there  are  certain  J^^* 
articles  of  faith  which  all  men  must  believe.    The  learned  must,^ 
by  special  acts  of  faith,  believe  each  single  article  by  itself  tot 
be  true ;  whereas  the  simple  la3mian  must  believe  them  collectively  I 
for  the  sole  reason  that  the  learned  hold  them  to  be  true.    Inno-  ) 
cent  IV  (1243-54)  held  that  the  only  articles  necessary  for  the 
unlettered  laity,  if  not  for  all  the  laity,  to  believe  explicitly  are 
the  existence  of  God  and  the  rewarding  of  men  according  to 
their  works.    All  other  articles  of  faith,  he  declared,  may  be 
believed  implicitly.    The  lower  clergy,  he  added,  because  of  their 
lack  of  opportunity  for  study,  need  believe  no  more  articles 
explicitly  than  it  is  necessary  for  the  simple  laity  so  to  believe. 
The  scholastic  theologians  of  the  thirteenth  century  lent  their 
ingenious  logic  to  the  discussion  of  the  doctrine  of  implicit  faith. 
Albertus  Magnus  (i  193-1280)  insisted  upon  its  necessity,  for 
Otherwise,  he  declared,  men  would  not  be  bound  to  believe  what 
they  can  in  no  wise  understand.    If  I  am  uncertain  whether  a 
new  doctrine  of  the  faith  that  is  laid  before  me  is  true,  he  said, 
I  go  to  the  man  who  knows,  the  priest,  and  I  believe  or  do 
not  believe  in  accordance  with  his  judgment.    Finally  Thomas 
Aquinas   (i228?-74),  the  Universal  Doctor,  the  very  incarna- 
tion of  Scholasticism,  whose  influence  upon  the  theology  of  the 
Church  has  been  rivaled  only  by  that  of  Augustine,  gave  the 


148 


THE  RENAISSANCE 


1148-1600 


Th«  Influx 

tnoeof 

▲btfard 


support  of  his  great  name  to  the  doctrine  of  implicit  faith. 
divided  science  into  two  sections.  The  first  section  consist 
all  the  mundane  sciences ;  the  second  is  made  up  of  the  rev< 
Christian  science.  Man  arrives  at  the  truth  ccmtained  in 
former  by  means  of  his  tmderstanding ;  but  the  truth  of  the  1 
is  beyond  the  grasp  of  the  understanding  and  is  made  kno^ 
man  only  by  divine  revelation.  The  revelation  contained  ii 
Scriptures  is  often  difficult  to  discern;  long  study  and  r 
practice  are  required  to  disentangle  it  from  its  context.  I 
have  neither  the  time  nor  the  ability  to  do  this.  Implicit 
upon  the  part  of  many,  therefore,  is  necessary. 

Ahrhriil  was  condemned  by  two  cotmcils  of  the  Church 
truth  crushed  to  earth  shall  rise  again.    His  refusal  to  re 
things  as  being  merely  symbols  or  emblems  of  something 
his  insistence  upon  the  right  and  the  ability,  aye,  even  more 
dutVj  of  th^  individual  to  look  all  things  in  the  face,  fact 
^aciem  omma  intuetur,  is  a  method  that  couia  not  be  hidden 
the  world.    It  was  pursued  by  antique  thought ;  it  is  the  me 
used  by  the  thought  of  the  modem  world.    Abdard  was  no 
first  one  to  apply  reason  to  theology  and  to  religion,  but  he 
movement  and  life  to  the  method.    Thus  he  became  a  most 
portant  precursor  of  the  modem  spirit,  and  a  powerful  f; 
in  the  revival  of  conscience.    "  Along  jthe  streets  and  in 


Thtlnflv- 
•noeof 
Frederlo 
XX  and 
▲Ttrroei 


squares  of  Paris,"  writes  Bemard  of  Qairvaux,  "  people  dij 
about  the  faith,  about  Mary's  motherhood  of  the  Child,  i 
the  sacrament  of  the  altar,  and  about  the  incomparable  my 
of  the  Trinity."  Few  teachers  have  ever  held  such  sway  a; 
Abelard.  Thousands  of  students  flocked  from  all  countri< 
hear  him.  They  learned  his  method,  they  adopted  it  as 
own,  and  then  they  scattered  it  in  every  part  of  Europe ;  an< 
a  strange  and  matchless  instance  of  the  irony  of  fate,  his  me 
was  subsequently  adopted  by  the  Church  herself. 

It  was  not  only  Abelard's  teachings  that  pollenized  Et 
with  the  new  thought.  Far  in  the  south,  at  the  court  of  I 
eric  II,  there  was  evoked,  as  we  have  seen,  a  premature  Re 
sance.  That  lonely  figure  among  the  sovereigns  of  the  age, 
still  remains  sometfiing  of  an  enigma,  desired  to  secularize  i 
as  well  as  knowledge,  by  giving  to  it  reason  as  its  sole  and 
tain  guide.  Still  another  source  of  fructification  was  the  the 
n£  A^^"'9g£f  the  philosopher  par  excellence  for  that  period  o 
Middle  Ages,  who  proved  by  the  Koran  itself  that  God  req 
into  the  truflLbv  means  of  tiie  reason  and  that  only 


m 


the  basis'  of  rationalism  can  religion  be  seciifelv  founded. 


^d.  is  hfi 


THE  REVIVAL  OF  CONSCIENCE 


149 


^^^^^^^^^^^  ^vcrroes  were  read  ^jth  aviH^ty  by  thotisands 
who  wefe  groping  their  way  towards  intellecttial  and  religious 
cnfniiichisement  and  they  were  a  factor  of  decided  importance  •^^i*** 
in  die  attunment  of  that  end.  But  it  was  not  only  the  work 
of  tfiese  tiiree  men,  Abelard,  Frederic  II,  and  Averroes,  that 
helped  men  to  win  their  intellectual  and  spiritual  independence. 
An  those  forces  that  were  potent  in  the  revival  of  the  individual, 
to  which  we  have  already  paid  attention,  and  the  revived  individ- 
uality itself,  conduced  to  the  same  end.  Thus  gradually  did  men 
reach  the  belief  that  the  igdiyydual  cQny^ienci*,^!]^  pQ^nsenaus  nf 

ilties.  is  in  itself  a  sure  and  certai|i,jyide  in  the 

[at  the  reason,  directing  and  con- 


I   .f;ffnHiirt  nf  daily  life,  an< 

troDing  the  emotions,  can  be  safely  trusted  to  answer  the  eternal 
questions  as  fully  as  they  can  be  answered  in  the  present  finite 
life. 

It  would  be  altogether  unfair  to  the  Middle  Ages  to  suppose 
them  to  have  been  a  series  of  centuries  profoundly  satisfied  with 
their  moral  condition  and  altogether  ignorant  of  their  weaknesses  timdu* 
and  their  shortcomings.    Such  was  far   from  being  the  case.  SoS*'*^ 
Though  the  individual  conscience  was  in  abeyance,  the  Scriptures  of  tht 
and  the  teachings  of  the  Church,  both  of  which  were  accepted  J^^th 
by  the  implicit  faith  of  Christendom,  ^ye  literal  directions  for  xmmano- 
the  nwral  ywi^tirf  of  (J^jlv  life.     Discontent  with  th,^  pTrJ^t?'"^^  **^ 
of  fhe  Qmy^h  was  l^y  t^^  m#>arig  /^nt^f  nA/1  ^Q  ^l^ifi  y?^P 

\\  intervened  heti^^CT  Ahelar^  and  th{^  outbreak  of  the  Prot- 

The  life  of  the  Middle  Ages  was  one  in- 


ity 


cessant  struggle  for  reform.  The  ethical  injunctions  of  the  New 
Testament  and  the  ascetic  lives  of  numerous  eminent  churchmen 
were  the  inspiration  of  many  efforts  to  recall  the  Church  from 
her  political  and  economic  activity,  from  the  things  that  she  had 
inherited  from  Caesar,  from  curialism  and  imperialism,  to  the 
things  she  had  inherited  from  Christ,  to  the  work  of  inculcating 
faith,  hope,  and  charity.  But  the  Middle  Ages  had  run  their 
course.  They  had  given  place  to  a  new  order  of  things,  to  a 
new  attitude  towards  life,  that  we  call  the  Renaissance.  The 
principles  out  of  which  their  greatness  and  their  vitality  had  icome 
had  passed,  or  were  passing,  into  the  limbo  of  outworn  concept 
tions.  Their  social  framework  was  falling  to  pieces.  The  Re- 
*"iw^"ffl  h^^  b"^ght  W^*^^  it  a  new  basis  for  morality,  aye,  ev? 
<Lncw  foundation  for  religion.  The  IndivMnSTconscience  was^ 
^  hr  tilt  fMiHiT  tn  "]9"^^'^ ;  ^^  reason,  directing  the  aspirations  J\^  /^ 
of  the  heart,  was  to  supplant  implicit  faith.  ^^^^ 

No  gain  in  the  history  of  humanity,  however,  is  an  unmixed     hAJ^^ 
gani.    To  a  considerable  extent  the  Renaissance  was  also  a  re-    ^  ^C^M 

^)OuV-tJ^ 


/iiA^ 


ISO  THE  RENAISSANCE 


<^^^*     birth  of  pagan  sensuality.    Some  of  its  devotees  drew  from  their 

study  of  the  classic  authors  excuse  for  a  careless  life  of  selfish 

1800-iftOO  gj^gg  untrammeled  and  untroubled  by  any  thought  of  a  future 
world.  The  unbridled  passions  of  others  moved  in  strange  or* 
bits  and  gave  to  the  life  of  the  time  a  deadly  iridescence.  Yet 
the  revival  of  the  individual  conscience  had  produced  a  greater 
sensitiveness  in  distinguishing  between  right  and  wrong.  It  was 
this  revival  of  conscience  that  in  a  large  measure  directed  progress 
and  impelled  humanity  upon  its  way.  The  paganism  of  the 
Renaissance  was  only  an  ephemeral  thing.  Complete  indiffe^ 
ence  to  the  destiny  of  the  soul  and  serene  content  with  the  pres- 
ent and  the  external  was  possible  only  in  the  childhood  of  hu- 
manity. So  conscience  asserted  itself.  Its  influence  was  fdt  in 
obscure  and  subterranean  ways  at  first,  but  eventually  it  found  » 

voice. 

conscience  found  expression  in  ncga- 
re  criticism^  a  thing  thai  is  far  easier  fflUli  the  fumistung  of 
positive  schemes  for  reform.  It  was  merely  a  symptom  of  the 
time.  Yet  it  was  not  without  its  value,  for  it  kept  men  in  a 
ferment  and  led  to  constructive  thought.  From  the  beginning  of 
the  thirteenth  century  to  the  end  of  the  fifteenth  there  were 
TtMOitft-  frequent  public  criticisms,  .ol  ^the-Xliuixh,  bantering  scorn  and 
^^  vehement  invective,  directed  against  the  decline  in  morality  of 

the  monastic  life,  the  accumulation  of  riches  by  secular  and 
regular  clergy,  the  deplorable  scandals  resulting  from  the  require- 
ment of  clerical  celibacy,  the  corruptions  of  the  papal  curia  and 
its  financial  exactions.  These  criticisms  were  no  longer  inspired 
by  the  evident  falling  away  from  the  standard  of  life  enjoined 
in  the  New  Testament,  in  the  teachings  of  the  Church,  and  ex- 
emplified by  the  lives  of  many  ecclesiastics.  They  were,  instead, 
due  rather  to  the  promptings  of  the  individual  conscience,  to  the 
failure  to  maintain  a  standard  of  life  that  the  reason  declared 
to  be  desirable  and  necessary.  Among  the  first  of  the  critics 
were  the  Goliards,  the  wandering  students,  many  of  wTiom,  in 
the  earlier  years,  had  listened  with  eagerness  to  Abelard,  who 
sang  their  songs  from  one  end  of  Europe  to  the  other.  The  best 
of  these  songs  were  probably  written  in  the  seventy-five  years 
between  1150  and  1225.  The  greed  and  lewdness  of  the  monks 
and  friars  and  the  ignorance  of  the  secular  clergy  furnish  the 
subject-matter  of  many  of  these  light-hearted  songs  that  have  so 
little  in  common  with  medievalism,  that  are  so  essentially  human- 
istic and  modem  in  their  spirit,  ifhd  that  must  have  mingled 
so  strangely  with  the  warning  of  the  vesper-bell.  jJante,  the 
irst  of  the  individual  critics  whom  we  shall  notice,  had  an  exalted 


THE  REVIVAL  OF  CONSCIENCE 


cooccption  of  the  autonomy  of  the  human  reason.    The  r^sop, 

^  ^^t  Li  thr  rhiftf  nnhility  of  min :  from  it  he  derives  his      HH 

itial  qualification;  by  it  he  is  differentiated  from  the  ani-    i«oo.i50C 
jQgUjRrho  live  merely  by  the  senses.    To  live  wJt^VUt  MV^g  *^^    -      ^  ^ 
'"WB  Iff  tfl  h^  "^^^     It  is  sovereign  for  all  the  actions  of  the  JA^"'^'^ 
will,  "  such  as  the  good  or  evil  we  do  to  others,  courage  in  battle     yvXy  hV 
or  flight,  chastity  or  debauchery."    So  it  is  the  rule  of  manners,  t^ 

the  Sving  law  to  which  all  the  works  of  life  are  subject.  Dante 
lived  with  the  evidences  of  the  Franciscan  reform  round  about 
him,  but,  aside  from  any  external  suggestion,  his  own  conscience 
was  a  most  sensitive  one  and  it  induced  him  to  dream  of  a  re^ 


geiieratioin  nf  »*^^  r^r^^'^^r^y  f  ■■  ■  ■  ;ii  •»■  With  passionate  invec- 
tive he  scourged  popes  and  priests,  but  he  never  attacked  Papacy 
and  priesthood.  P*f  vnir^  wflf'  ^^wiy?  tb^t  ^^  9  frirnri  D^ 
1  spite  the  fact  that  its  rhetorical  exaggeration  is  palpably  evi- 
(knt  no  fiercer  satire  of  the  papal  court  exists  than  is  to  be 
found  in  Petrarch'«s  EpistoLr  .nnp  t\fi^[n.  And  in  other  of  his 
writings  the  father  of  humanism  laid  bare  the  corruption  and 
degeneracy  that  existed  at  Avignon.  But  like  Dante  he  was 
a  loyal  son  of  the  Church  bent  upon  serving  her  by  effecting  her 
reform.  Boccaccio*s  Decameron  is  full  of  contemptuous  scorn 
of  monks  and  mms.  His  criticism,  published  in  a  popular  form, 
was  far  more  widely  read  than  that  of  Dante.  But  the  vices 
of  the  Church  that  roused  Dante  to  austere  rage  and  moved 
Rg^yi^figh  tn  i-gyyitful  melancholy  merely  incited  the  author  of 
the  novelle  to  comic  raillery.  OiaU££r  depicted  the  shortcomings 
of  the  clergy.  In  the  Pardoner  he  has  described  a  priest  who 
preaches  merely  for  money  and  who  has  no  concern  with  the 
cure  of  souls.  Passionate  dentmciation  and  mocking  sarcasm 
were  the  weapons  of  the  critics  of  the  Church  up  to  the  day 

of  ^/^"HOT  YaP^  ^^^  ^^^^  ^"^  ^^^^  ^^^  ^  ^^^  deadlier  effect. 
His  fearless  and  scientific  criticism_swept  away  the  basis  of  the 
temporal  power  ot  tne  i^aoacv.  exposed  inaccqn^f jfg  ^n  the  Vul- 
gate and  aroused  doubts  as  to  the  authenticity  of  the  Apostles' 
Creed.  It  was  the  beginning  of  modem  biblical  criticism.  He 
had  to  work  very  largely  by  himself,  for  dialectics  held,  as  still 
they  do  to-day,  more  men  than  research.  After  his  time  there 
was  little  left  that  could  not  be  submitted  to  the  test  of  criticism. 
Each  critic  of  the  Church  gave  to  his  charges  the  color  of  his 
own  personality.  Passionate  invective,  regretful  reproach,  sor- 
rowful supplication,  or  mocking  levity,  forms  the  spirit  of  their 
complaints.  All  combined  tft  agitate  the  minds  of  men  and  to 
arouse  a  realization  of  the  need  of  reform.  s 


152 


THE  RENAISSANCE 


108i-18«6 


Ytelfo- 


dM8utidti.  Monastkism  was  the  highest  ideal  of  life  in  the  Mid- 
dle Ages.  It  meant  the  complete  denial  of  the  present  world  as 
far  as  that  was  possible,  the  absolute  submission  of  the  txxfy 
to  the  souL  The  devil,  the  world,  and  the  flesh  were  all  ten^- 
tions  to  betray  the  soul  of  man  to  its  perdition.  Each  was  to 
be  shunned  and  avoided.  The  single  object  of  life  was  the  sal- 
vation of  the  soul,  and  anything  that  detracted  from  this  aim 
was  to  be  put  aside.  It  is  a  lofty  as  well  as  a  narrow  ideal  of 
life,  and  it  is  so  far  beyond  the  possibility  of  attainment  by  the 
large  majority  of  mankind  that  attempts  to  reach  it  must  needs 
involve  many  failures.  Many  who  flocked  into  the  cloisters 
brought  with  them  the  world  and  its  cares.  So  the  places  dedi- 
cated to  the  spirit  became  noisy  with  ambition,  and  monastidsa 
became  enfeebled  and  then  corrupt  by  lack  of  zeal.  The  story 
of  every  monastic  order  is  the  same.  First  there  is  a  period  of 
unremitting  and  unsparing  effort  to  attain  the  lofty  ideal  of  the 
life  contemplative.  Then  there  is  a  period  of  gradual  dedim 
in  which  formality  and  convention  replace  the  spontaneous  and 
sincere  strivings  of  the  spirit,  ending  at  last  in  corruption. 
Finally  there  is  a  period  of  revival,  a  return  bom  of  contrition 
and  repentance  to  the  ideal  of  the  founder  of  the  order.  Ir 
1540  Cardinal  Guiddiccioni  acknowledged  this  to  be  the  stor> 
of  the  monastic  orders  when  he  said:  **\j[  thr  htginnjnc  fll^ 
ordpTs  arg  iii}\  ni  fervor^  but  they  rel?7j;  ^n  ^''^^J  and  whm  thfiy 
*"  '  [arm  they  do  to  the  Church  is  greater  tfia^  tfa^ 

good  they  did  her  In  the  be£rinnini 
le 


lenedictine  Order,  the  mother  and  exemplar  of  all  the 
other  monastic  orders,  fell  into  decay  repeatedly.  And  just  as 
periodically  reformers  appeared  within  its  ranks  to  lead  it  back 
to  its  original  purity.  But  such  periodical  reforms  did  not  sat- 
isfy the  most  ardent  of  those  who  embraced  the  monastic  ideal. 
For  them  the  wise  and  moderate  rule  of  St.  Benedict  was  toe 
mild.  So  austere  orders  were  established.  The  Carthusians, 
founded  in  1084,  practised  severe  mortification  of  the  body, 
They  were  imitated  by  the  Cistercians  (1098)  and  excelled  by 
the  Trappists  (1140).  Among  the  other  austere  orders  were 
the  Carmelites  ( 1 208 ) ,  the  Celestins  ( 1 27 1 ) ,  the  OHvetans 
(1313),  and  the  Jesuates  (1355). 

There  were  also  reforms  among  the  secular  as  well  as  the  r^- 
ular  clergy,  "^fany  ^f  the  seailar  c\tTf^  livrfl  rT?d^^  rule*;  fgr 
the^ regulation  of  th^'^y  d^i'ly  1iv^«^  They  were  thffgfor^  knpyn 
as^anons.  Augustine  is  said  to  have  been  the  first  to  put  secu- 
lar  priests  under  such  canonical  regulations.  No  definite  rule 
can  be  ascribed  to  him,  but  an  order  of  canons  grew  up  thai 


Btfonni 
Among 
the  Been- 
UrOtorgy 


THE  REVIVAL  OF  CONSCIENCE  153 


bore  his  name.    Canons  were  generally  to  be  found  in  the  cities 
at  large  churches  and  cathedrals  where  a  number  of  priests  were 
required  to  perform  the  services  of  the  church  for  the  laity.  *i*®*iwo 
Among  the  orders  of  canons  were  the  Canons  Regular  of  Pr6- 
m^ptr^  JTian^^  Canons  of  the  Holy  Cross  (I2i4),^rj»nnng  7^ 
jt.  MarfcJ[i24i),  ancLi^anons  Of  St^SaviflL  (1408). 

The  two  great  ordersof  llie  meHdiauit  friars  had  their  rise 
in  efforts  to  bring  about  reform  within  the  Church.  It  was  a 
new  ideal  that  St  Francis  held,  one  that  was  humanitarian  in  its  Bcfom 
essence.  The  monks  had  withdrawn  themselves  from  the  world  SufiSLn 
and  sought  only  the  safety  of  their  own  souls.  His  begging 
friars  should  go  forth  into  the  world  and  have  for  their  work 
the  care  of  the  souls  of  the  laity.    Without  j^grrvp  thry  gavf 

fellow-mfip.  What  the  monks  had 
themselves  the  friars  diffused  among  the  laity.  Into 
the  groveling  and  distressful  slums  of  the  time  they  went  carry- 
ing their  message  of  the  brotherhood  of  man,  helping  in  every 
way  they  could  the  poor  and  the  leprous.  Their  marvelous  suc- 
cess was  due  to  the  fact  that  they  answered  the  deepest  aspira- 
tions of  the  people  of  the  time.  They  made  religion  a  function 
of  life  instead  of  keeping  it,  like  monasticism,  constantly  at  vari- 
ance with  life.  Not  since  Christ  has  any  one  else  inflamed  the 
human  heart  and  fired  the  imagination  to  so  great  a  degree  as 
St  Francis.  And  yet  within  a  century  after  the  founding  of 
tEeTnmascan  order  it  became  a  disgrace.  The  mendicant  friars 
DO  longer  wandered  through  the  world  heedless  of  the  morrow 
and  seeking  to  do  whatever  good  presented  itself.  The  enchant- 
ing idyll  ended  in  the  old  sad  failure.  Like  the  Benedictines  and 
others  before  them  the  Franciscans  became  idle  and  corrupt. 
Then  came  efforts  at  reform.  The  Spiritual  Franciscans  at- 
tempted to  return  to  the  simplicity  of  the  Poverello,  but  they 
were  unsuccessful.  Dominic  gave  a  wise  and  very  moderate  rule 
to  his  followers,  full  of  a  sympathetic  understanding  of  human- 
ity. It  was  his  idea  to  help  the  cause  of  reform  by  persuading 
the  heretics  of  the  time  that  they  were  wrong.  But  this  second 
order  of  mendicant  friars  also  became  enriched  and  fell  away 
from  the  ideals  of  its  founder.  The  Dominicans^ became  the 
chief  supporters  of  scholasticism  in  the  universities  and,  later  on, 
the  managers  of  the  Inquisition. 

Neither  of  these  orders  of  mendicant  friars  had  their  origin 
in  the  Church,  which  was  engrossed  almost  completely  in  its 
workDy  activities.  They  were  a  result  of  the  new  democratic 
culture  and  piety  that  had  come  into  existence  with  the  growth  of 
the  towns.    But  the  Church  prudently  made  use  of  them.    She 


IS4 


THE  RENAISSANCE 


lS85-149t 


used  them  to  satisfy  the  constantly  increasing  religious  needs  of 
the  towns  which  both  the  secular  and  monastic  clergy  found 
themselves  unable  to  meet.  And  the  friars  succeeded  for  t 
time  in  satisfying  the  longing  of  the  towns  for  spiritual  nourish- 
ment. The  extraordinary  privil^es  conferred  upon  them  marb 
the  last  important  attempt  of  the  papacy  previous  to  the  Prot- 
estant Revolution  to  recover  something  of  the  moral  and  re- 
ligious authority  which  it  had  lost  in  acquiring  by  worldly  means 
its  tremendous  juristic  and  political  power. 

Among  the  most  important  of  the  individual  monastic  reform- 
ers in  the  fourteenth  century,  a  time  of  luxurious  corruption, 
hideous  crime,  and  moral  laxity,  were  Vincent  Ferrer  (1357- 
1419),  Bernardino  of  Siena  (1380-1444),  John  of  Capistrano 
(138&-1456)  and  Savonarola  (1452-98).  Yjmr^^  FfiiTfT  V?" 
a  Spanish  Dgminican  who  for  more  than  twenty  years  dfr 
votea  liimself  to  tfin-eformation  of  morals  within  thfi^.Qu2rdi 

and  to  the  conversion  of  the  Waldenses. 

was  a  Franciscan  whg  ^"  ^^«  yf\u^V\  bfflSiiH^  kt^nly  aware  of  th< 
|nra1i^  Qj  th<>  Ttaljan  fnwf]g  Walkii^  bareioot  throughoui 
Italy  and  preaching  to  the  crowds  that  everywhere  flocked  t( 
hear  him,  he  boldly  denounced  the  corruption  of  the  time  an< 
strove  to  bring  back  the  Franciscan  order  to  its  former  purity 
By  fervent  enthusiasm  and  the  magic  of  his  eloquence,  which  ii 
all  parts  of  the  peninsula  kindled  among  the  masses  a  transien 
flame  of  reform,  he  became  the  chief  promoter  of  the  religiou 
revival  of  the  fourteenth  century  and  the  acknowledged  exempla; 
of  all  friars  who  engaged  in  preaching.  Most  important  amon| 
the  many  followers  of  Bernardino  was  John  of  (^pistrano 
who  was  commissioned  by  the  pope  to  preach  in  Germany,  wher< 
enormous  crowds  thronged  to  listen  to  his  exhortations.    Sa 

vnnarQla  wfls  p  Pfttninirap  frj^y  who^  from  the  day  that  he  flec 

totJieconvent  to  the  day  that  his  body  was  given  to  the  flames 
was  consumed  with  a  single  conviction.  He  was  filled  with  2 
burning  zeal  for  moral  reform.  He  desired  no  change  of  doc 
trine.  All  his  life  hcsdung  to  the  tea^^i'^fp  ijf  thfi  Cbnrgb  witi 
the  most  unwavering  conviction.  The  reform  of  "^^nilfi  y°  *** 
sole  mission.  His  temperament  was  not  suited  to  the  ways  o; 
patient  conversion ;  but  he  made  himself  a  force  in  the  genera 
awakening  of  cities  and  principalities  by  his  terrible  power  o: 
denunciation,  his  fiery  apocalyptic  warnings,  his  passionate  ap 
peals,  and  his  pathetic  entreaties.  Eventually,  as  we  shall  see  ii 
a  chapter  soon  to  follow,  he  was  drawn  into  ecclesiastical  anc 
political  reforms  and  killed  by  the  intricate  and  insignificant  pol 
itics  of  the  Italian  principalities.    The  reforms  instituted  by  al 


THE  REVIVAL  OF  CONSCIENCE  155 

of  &ese  revivalists  had  the  same  inherent  defect.    They  appealed     ^5^' 

fmly  ^^  tb^  imintinns-    They  gave  rise  to  no  stream  of  new      

thought.  They  were  vehement  and  spasmodic  outbursts,  not  dis-  i***-***' 
passionate  and  sustained  movements  that  had  their  origin  in  in- 
tdlectoal  conviction.  When  the  potent  personality  of  the  re- 
vivalist was  no  longer  present  his  influence  gradually  diminished 
until  it  vanished  altogether.  And  so  these  revivals  were  only 
transient  in  their  results. 

All  through  the  Middle  Ages  monasticism,  as  we  have  seen, 
provided  the  chief  means  for  reformation  within  the  Church,  but 
all  the  monastic  reforms  were  unsatisfying,  save  as  they  taught 
men  forever  how  mightier  than  policy  is  purpose.  We  have  BMottfof 
seen  that  every  monastic  order  goes  through  the  same  round  of  BMtieiL 
fervent  zeal,  g^dual  relaxation,  corruption,  and  another  out-  'onw 
burst  of  reform.  Such  is  the  inevitable  consequence  of  the  at- 
tempt to  attain  so  unworldly  and  difficult  an  ideal  of  perfection. 
The  bow  too  tightly  strung  inevitably  snaps  asunder.  Then,  too, 
a  monastic  order,  like  any  other  institution,  grows  out  of  the 
needs  of  the  life  of  the  time.  And  as  life  is  dynamic,  as  its 
needs  change  with  the  changing  centuries,  the  institution  is  out- 
grown. It  no  longer  corresponds  to  the  need  of  the  time,  it  no 
longer  is  the  result  of  spontaneous  action.  It  has  become  fixed 
and  formal.  The  developing  forces  of  life  no  longer  supply  it 
with  vitality,  but  instead  are  engaged  in  its  dissolution. 

Several  of  the  popes  endeavored  to  institute  reforms.  The 
Avignonese  captivity  and  the  protracted  schism  had  lessened  the 
power  and  the  prestige  of  the  Papacy,  and  since  then  the  activ- 
ity of  the  curia  had  become  more  than  ever  juristic,  financial  and 
political,  and  less  moral  and  religious,  so  that  at  the  end  of  the  papaiBi 
fifteenth  century  the  character  of  the  Papacy  was  predominantly  '•»■•" 
that  of  a  worldly  institution.  Something  of  this  was  perhaps 
dimly  perceived  by  Martin  V  (1417-31),  Eugene  IV  (1431-47), 
Nicholas  V  (1447-55),  Calixtus  III  (1455-58),  Pius  II  (1458- 
64),  and  Paul  II  (1464-71).  The  reaction  against  the  paganism 
of  the  humanists  b^an  with  Calixtus  and  was  continued  by  Pius 
and  Paul.  These  reforming  efforts  of  the  Papacy  were  purely 
personal.  They  were  ineffective  because  they  were  not  directed 
to  the  root  of  the  evil.  The  pontiffs  were  too  largely  dependent 
upon  the  members  of  the  curia.  The  Papacy  had  become  essen- 
tially a  worldly  institution,  and  until  the  spirit  of  the  time  im- 
peratively demanded  its  reform  it  was  impossible  for  any  pontiff 
who  was  not  also  a  great  statesman  to  effect  any  substantial 
reform.  The  circumstances  of  the  time  would  have  made  re- 
(onn  difficult  even  for  another  Hildebrand;  so  the  efforts  of 


IS6 


THE  RENAISSANCE 


1409.1617 


dUtr 


OoDflmtr 
Baformm 


these  papal  reformers  of  far  less  power  ended  in  failure.  Thqr 
availed  nothing  to  make  new  the  heart  of  Christendom.  The 
spiritual  significance  of  the  Papacy  steadily  declined.  Its  fiscal 
oppressions  increased.  Nepotism  was  practised  in  the  most  un- 
blushing way.  And  in  the  person  of  Leo  X  paganism  seemed 
to  have  installed  itself  upon  the  papal  throne. 

The  attempts  of  members  of  the  Church  to  bring  about  a 
reformation  of  the  institution  in  root  and  branch  assumed  anothet 
form  toward  the  end  of  the  fourteenth  century  when  the  ag< 
of  the  reforming  councils  b^[an.  The  theory  of  the  condliai 
reformers  is  well  expressed  in  the  famous  decree  of  the  Couu 
cil  of  Constance:  ''A  general  council  has  its  power  imme 
diately  from  Christ,  and  every  one  of  every  rank,  even  the  pop< 
himsdf ,  is  bound  to  obey  it  in  matters  pertaining  to  the  artidei 
of  faith,  to  the  extirpation  of  heresy,  and  to  the  reformation  o\ 
the  Church  in  head  and  members."  The  conciliar  movement  hac 
its  birth  in  France,  and  found  in  Pierre  d'Ailly  and  Jean  Gerson 
two  eminent  French  ecclesiastics,  its  most  able  advocates.  Bu 
the  theory  that  a  general  council  is  above  the  pope  found  vig- 
orous opposition  from  the  Papacy  of  multifarious  activity  and 
worldly  power  that  the  Middle  Ages  had  produced.  So  a  strug- 
gle ensued. 

Something  of  the  activity  of  the  councils  of  the  fifteenth  cen- 
tury we  have  already  seen.  We  have  here  to  regard  them  'from 
a  somewhat  different  point  of  view.  The  first  of  the  refom: 
councils  was  convened  at  Pisa  in  1409.  It  was  summoned  by  the 
Collie  of  Cardinals  and  met  under  the  protection  of  Charles  V 
of  France.  It  was  widely  representative,  and  it  had  for  its  chiel 
purpose  the  ending  of  the  schism.  It  deposed  the  rival  popes 
and  in  their  place  elected  Alexander  V.  As  neither  of  the  de- 
posed pontiffs  acknowledged  the  action  of  the  council  a  triple 
papacy  resulted.  The  work  of  the  council  in  effecting  a  reform 
of  morals  was  insignificant.  A  second  council  was  held  at  Con- 
stance (1414-18).  The  ending  of  the  triple  papacy  was  the 
chief  task  that  confronted  it;  but  it  also  debated  questions  of 
morals  and  questions  of  faith.  Its  efforts  in  the  first  direction 
resulted  in  the  unity  of  the  papacy.  The  reformation  of  morals 
was  largely  lost  sight  of  by  the  conflicting  elements  of  which 
the  council  was  composed.  The  revival  of  synods,  the  summon- 
ing of  general  councils  at  stated  intervals,  the  reorganization  of 
the  Collie  of  Cardinals,  the  reform  of  papal  taxation,  the  re- 
form of  ecclesiastical  law  courts,  the  control  of  papal  grants, 
dispensations  and  indulgences,  and  the  morality  and  zeal  of  the 
clergy,  all  failed  to  receive  settlement  at  the  hands  of  the  coun- 


THE  REVIVAL  OF  CONSCIENCE  157 

dL    A  few  inconsequential  decrees  were  the  only  result  of  the     ^'Sm' 

efforts  of  the  council  to  effect  reform  within  the  Church.    This      

failure  was  due  in  part  to  the  opposition  to  the  conciliar  theory,  i***-i*i7 
in  part  to  the  conflicting  interests  of  the  members  of  the  cotmdl, 
and  in  part  to  the  organization  of  the  members  who  were  ar- 
ranged in  nations  and  who  thus  felt  the  full  force  of  political 
antagonism.    The  attempt  of  the  council  to  secure  unity  of  faith 
resulted  in  the  burning  of  John  Hus  and  Jerome  of  Prague. 
Twelve  years  later  practically  the  same  tasks,  with  the  exception 
of  the  dimination  of  superfluous  popes,  confronted  the  Council 
of   Basd   (1431-49).    Again  divergent  national  interests  pre- 
vented unity  of  action.    Again  the  Papacy  successfully  opposed 
itself  to  the  council.    The  council  came  to  an  end  without  hav- 
ix^  accomplished  the  expected  reforms.    The  tide  of  the  con- 
ciliar movement  was  fast  ebbing.    In  vain  it  had  spent  its  force 
against  the  rock  of  the  Papacy.    The  last  council  of  the  Renais- 
sance period  was  the  Fifth  Lateran  Cotmcil  (1512-17),  which 
received  its  name  from  the  church  of  St.  John  Lateran  in  Rome. 
It  wzs  made  up  exclusively  of  Italian  prelates ;  and  in  that  time 
of  national  spirit,  commercial  expansion,  and  secular  thought, 
it  commanded  little  attention.    There  were  earnest  men  in  the 
Church,  and  many  members  of  the  council  had  a  deep  sense  of 
the  necessity  of  reform;  but  the  council  bears  witness  to  the 
hopdessness  of  the  conciliar  cause.    The  Pragmatic  Sanction  of 
France,  which  was  a  recognition  of  the  claims  of  the  conciliar 
reformers,  was  revoked  at  the  dictation  of  the  triumphant  Papacy. 
Thus  the  last  vestige  of  the  conciliar  movement  for  reform  dis- 
appeared. 

The  condliar  movement  which  had  begun  with  so  confident  a 
hope  of  success  failed  in  the  course  of  fifty  years.  Its  slight 
victories  were  nullified  with  apparent  ease.  The  general  dis- 
couragement was  wdl  expressed  by  the  abbot  Jacob  of  Junter- 
burg:  **  I  can  scarcdy  bdieve  that  an  improvement  of  the  rwiiwof 
Church  can  be  brought  about ;  for  first  the  papal  curia  must  be  SJmSSS?' 
reformed ;  and  how  difiicult  that  is  the  present  course  of  events 
shows.  There  is  no  nation  which  so  vehemently  opposes  the 
reform  of  the  Church  as  the  Italian."  The  earnest  supporters 
of  the  conciliar  idea  were  too  few  in  number.  They  were  mem- 
bers of  the  upper  classes  only,  and  the  people  were  not  behind 
them.  The  relative  power  of  pope  and  council  was  for  the 
masses  a  purely  academic  question.  The  one  concrete  thing  that 
appealed  to  the  people  and  increased  their  wrath  and  contempt 
was  the  shamdess  worldly  conduct  of  the  Church,  the  avarice 
and  the  immorality  of  the  dergy.    The  vested  interests  of  the 


158 


THE  RENAISSANCE 


1170*1489 


totut&n 


ThtWal- 


Papacy  at  which  the  movement  was  aimed  were  too 
entrenched.  So  the  movement  failed.  The  worldly  interests 
entanglements  of  the  curia  increased.  The  moral  laxity  at  M 
cler|;y^became  ever  more  grievous,  and  the  spiritual  needs  of  thi 
?:ommon  people  ever  more  n^lected. 

The  ecclesiastical  reformers  —  monks,  friars,  popes,  and  cot- 
ciliar  theorists  —  had  all  failed  to  effect  any  permanent  reform 
within  the  Church.    We  come  now  to  another  group  of  meo, 
the  biblical  reformers.    The  doctrines  of  the  Church  had  grown 
by  accretion  through  many  centuries.    So  vast  a  body  of  thougfal 
exceeded  the  capacity  of  some  of  the  members  of  the  ChuidL 
It  appeared  to  them  to  be  superfluous,  and  burdensome.    It  dis* 
turbed  them  with  an  incomplete  sense  of  belief  or  with  a  distinGt 
sense   of   disbelief.    And   the   contrast   between    the   materiil 
Church,  with  all  its  vast  possessions  and  its  worldly  activity,  and 
the  simplicity  of  Christianity  in  apostolic  times,  the  simple  m- 
temal  religion  of  Christ,  was  so  striking  that  reactions  against 
medieval  Catholicism  were  inevitable.    So  here  and  there  a  grwf 
of  men  limited  the  body  of  religious  doctrine,  lessened  the  range 
of  religious  interest,  sought  to  intensify  truth  within  that  nsigt, 
and  opposed  themselves  to  the  accumulation  of  worldly  wealtk 
They  endeavored  to  state  the  fundamental  truth  of  religion  in 
its  simplest  form.    This  phenomenon  was  not  confined  to  tiic 
eve  of  the  Protestant  Revolution.    Scarcely  had  society  hegpxi 
to  settle  down  after  the  barbarian  invasion  when  such  sects 
sprang  up  on  all  sides.    And  although  they  suffered  persecution 
such  reactions  characterized  every  one  of  the  medieval  centuries* 
for  they  were  natural  reactions  arising  out  of  a  need  that  other- 
wise would  have  remained  unsatisfied.    As  a  rule  these  groups 
of  simple  believers  flourished  in  those  parts  of  Europe  where 
centrifugal  forces  were  most  potent.    They  were  not  only  dis- 
satisfied with  the  doctrines  of  the  Church  because  of  their  bulk 
and  difficulty,  and  with  the  greed,  selfishness,  and  immorality  of 
the  clergy,  but  they  were  also  filled  with  social  discontent.    They 
indulged  in  dreams  of  social  as  well  as  religious  reconstruction. 
So  they  were  deemed  to  be  perilous  by  the  state  as  well  as  by  the 
Church.    All  of  them  attempted  to  restore  the  simple  brother- 
hood of  apostolic  times  and  to  live  according  to  the  social  doc- 
trine of  the  Galilean. 

One  of  the  most  important  of  these  groups  of  reformers  were 
the  Waldenses,  a  sect  which  originated,  somewhere  about  1170, 
in  the  two  streams  of  the  peasants  of  the  valleys  of  the  western 
Alps  and  the  Poor  Men  of  Lyons  who  were  the  followers  of 
Peter  Waldo.    They  translated  the  Bible  into  their  daily  tongt^ 


THE  REVIVAL  OF  CONSCIENCE  159 


and,  discarding  all  allegorical  interpretation,  accepted  only  its     ^^m' 

literal  meaning.    They  dispensed  with  the  priesthood  as  unneces-      

sary.  Every  believer  in  Christ  they  held  to  be  as  much  a  priest  i^^^i*'* 
as  any  other.  The  apostles  were  laymen,  they  said,  and  so  were 
the  first  disciples  of  Christ.  Then  why  should  not  every  good 
layman  in  subsequent  times  be  a  priest?  So  all  of  them  were 
admitted  to  preach,  without  distinction  of  age,  or  rank,  or  sex. 
The  only  sacraments  they  retained  were  baptism  and  commtmion, 
and  these  could  be  administered  by  any  one.  They  rejected  also 
ail  other  external  and  extraneous  aids  such  as  indulgences  and 
the  adoration  of  saints.  But  despite  the  fact  that  the  Waldenses 
increased  with  great  rapidity  and  spread  from  Aragon  to  Bo- 
hemia they  did  not  succeed  in  making  any  great  and  permanent 
impression  upon  the  religious  life  of  the  time.  Europe  was  not 
yet  ready  for  their  ideas.  And  they  were  poor  and  lowly  men, 
unable  to  influence  leaders  in  Churclf  or  State. 

Essentially  similar  to  the  principles  of  the  Waldenses  were 
those  held  by  John  Wiclif  (1320-84),  a  master  of  Balliol  Coll^;e 
at  Oxford,  a  royal  ambassador,  and  later  a  popular  preacher. 
He,  too,  insisted  upon  the  priesthood  of  every  Christian,  and 
thus  put  himself  into  direct  opposition  to  the  claims  of  the  Joim 
clergy ;  and  he,  too,  with  bold  logic  held  the  seven  sacraments  to  ^*«"' 
be  tmnecessary.  In  short  he  attacked  the  entire  system  of  the 
Church  and  insisted  upon  the  sufficiency  of  divine  grace  and 
individual  faith  as  did  the  reformers  of  the  sixteenth  century. 
Everywhere  along  the  roads  of  England,  in  churchyards  and 
market-places,  could  be  seen  the  "pore  preestis**  of  Wiclif 
preaching  to  crowds  of  the  common  people.  And,  with  the  aid 
of  two  friends,  Wiclif  translated  the  Bible  into  English  and 
placed  it  in  the  hands  of  the  common  people.  It  could  be  under- 
stood, he  said,  by  any  one  who  led  a  religious  life  and  sought 
for  truth  in  a  humble  spirit.  But  hostile  forces  rallied  to  the 
defeat  of  the  new  movement.  The  rising  of  the  peasants  under 
Wat  Tyler  and  Jack  Straw  had  filled  the  barons  and  the  burghers 
with  fear.  Wiclif 's  movement  was  regarded  as  dangerous,  arid 
so  it  was  put  down. 

The  teaching  of  Wicliff  failed  to  produce  a  lasting  impression 
in  England;  but  in  the  person  of  John  Hus  (1369-1413)  it  had 
a  potent  influence  in  the  distant  country  of  Bohemia.  Richard  joiuibw 
II  of  England  had  married  Anne  of  Bohemia  and  the  Bohemian 
students,  among  whom  was  Jerome  of  Prague,  who  followed  her 
to  England,  were  instrumental  in  bringing  Wiclif 's  writings  to  the 
attention  of  Hus.  But  important  as  was  the  influence  of  Wiclif 
upon  Hus  it  would  be  a  mistake  to  regard  the  Bohemian  reformer 


i6o 


THE  RENAISSANCE 


2170-1489 


maor 

Biblieal 

ScforaMra 


as  no  more  than  a  copyist  of  the  English  preacher.  Their  doc* 
trines  were  similar,  but  they  had  used  the  same  sources  and  were 
inspired  by  the  same  writers.  And,  moreover,  Hus  was  the  heii 
of  a  long  series  of  Bohemian  reformers.  Matthew  of  Janow  had 
already  asserted  that  only  by  a  revolution  could  the  Church  be 
brought  back  to  the  primitive  simplicity  and  purity  of  the  first 
years  of  Christianity.  In  Bohemia  the  clergy  were  as  corrupt 
as  elsewhere;  and  there,  too,  a  brigand  baronage  oppressed  the 
people.  The  deep  religious  feeling  that  was  roused  to  active  life 
by  the  passionate  preaching  of  Hus  had  long  been  stirring.  The 
torch  that  lit  the  funeral  pyre  of  Hus  at  Constance  was  the  signal 
for  a  long  and  terrible  war  in  Bohemia.  But,  at  last,  war  and 
weariness  broke  the  spirit  of  the  reformers  and  crushed  their 
reformation. 

In  addition  to  these  two  great  biblical  reformers  there  were 
several  minor  ones  of  whose  writings  the  great  reformers  of  the 
sixteenth  century  knew  very  little,  although  they  contained  im- 
plicitly and  explicitly  the  doctrines  of  the  Protestant  Revolution. 
John  of  Goch  (1400-75)  asserted  that  the  Bible  is  the  only  nec- 
essary guide  of  life,  and  that  the  Church  in  her  teaching  is  sub- 
ject to  error.  "  Only  the  Bible,"  he  said,  "  has  an  irrefragable 
authority.  The' writings  of  the  fathers  of  the  Church  are  of 
value  merely  in  so  far  as  they  are  in  conformity  with  the  sacred, 
books."  He  held  that  the  New  Testament  is  a  law  of  internal 
sentiment  It  secures  the  salvation  of  man  by  uniting  him  to 
God  with  the  bond  of  love.  He  was  a  recluse  by  temperament, 
so  his  doctrines  did  not  gain  a  wide  audience  in  his  lifetime,  and 
they  were  not  published  until  the  sixteenth  century.  John  of 
Wesd  (i4io?-8i),  who  after  teaching  in  the  University  of  Er* 
furt  became  a  popular  preacher  at  Mainz  and  at  Worms,  boldly 
discarded  the  authority  of  the  Church.  Incited  by  the  abuses  of 
the  time  to  denounce  indulgences  he  eventually  declared  the  Bible 
to  be  the  only  true  religious  guide.  **  We  must  believe  nothing," 
he  said,  "  except  that  which  is  in  the  Bible.  Christ  commanded 
his  disciples  to  preach  the  gospel.  He  did  not  tell  them  to  intro- 
duce new  laws."  And  in  his  attack  upon  indulgences  he  was 
more  radical  than  Luther  in  his  celebrated  theses,  for  he  not  only 
denounced  their  abuses  but  denied  their  principle.  "  The  grace 
of  God,"  he  said,  "raises  the  sinner  from  his  fall.  There  is, 
therefore,  no  reason  for  the  mediation  of  the  Church.  Every- 
thing passes  between  man  and  God."  Only  two  of  his  books 
have  come  down  to  us.  One  was  published  in  the  sixteenth  cen- 
tury and  the  other  in  the  eighteenth.  Wessel  Gansvoort  (1420?- 
89),  a  wandering  humanbt,  also  rejected  the  tradition  of  the 


THE  REVIVAL  OF  CONSCIENCE  i6i 


Church  and  recurred  to  the  Bible  as  the  sole  basis  of  authority,     ^^f^- 

He  hdd  that  faith  in  Christ,  finding  its  vent  in  devotion  to  the      

cause  of  one's  fellow-men,  is  sufficient  to  ensure  salvation.  The  **7*"***« 
true  unity  of  Christendom,  he  held,  is  not  to  be  found  in  the 
external  authority  of  the  Church,  but  in  the  uniting  of  all  Chris- 
tians to  Christ  by  "one  faith,  one  hope,  and  one  charity.  It 
matters  little  who  are  the  chiefs  under  whom  they  live,  whether 
they  be  one  or  many.  The  unity  of  the  Church  under  the  pope 
is  a  mere  accident.  It  is  not  the  pope  who  is  the  bond  of  union, 
but  the  Holy  Spirit."  He  was  the  boldest  of  all  the  forerunners 
of  the  Revolution.  He  denied  the  real  presence  of  the  body 
and  blood  of  Christ  in  the  wafer  and  the  wine  of  the  Eucharist, 
admitting  only  a  sacramental  presence.  In  this  respect  his  posi- 
tion was  exactly  that  of  Zwingli,  the  leader  of  the  Swiss  revolt 
from  Rome.  It  was  not  until  more  than  a  generation  after  his 
death  that  the  first  of  his  books  to  be  printed  came  from  the 
printii^  press. 

All  of  the  biblical  reformers  ostensibly  remained  within  the 
Church.  Yet  their  fundamental  thesis  of  the  sole  authority  of 
the  Bible  is  essentially  antagonistic  to  the  claims  of  the  Church. 
None  of  them  secured  a  wide  following ;  and  it  is  not  known  that 
Luther  derived  any  of  his  ideas  from  their  teachings.  So  they 
cannot  be  r^;arded  as  direct  contributors  to  the  revolutionary 
xnovement.  They  must  rather  be  considered  as  intimations  of 
the  profound  unrest  that  was  stirring  Germany  in  the  fifteenth 
century.  

Still  another  group  of  men  who  attempted  to  effect  reform 
xvithin  the  pale  of  the  Church  were  the  mystics.     Mysticism  is  a 
term  not  easy  to  define.    It  is  not  an  articulate  system  of  doc- 
trine or  philosophy.    It  is  an  attitude  towards  life,  a  mode  of 
thought,  an  atmosphere.    It  is  the  result  of  temperament  rather  Myitiein 
than  of  intellect.    It  cannot  be  demonstrated  by  logic ;  neither  is 
there  any  logic  that  can  disprove  it.    The  basic  conviction  of 
mysticism  is  that  tmder  all  the  diversity  of  outward  things  there 
is  unity  at  the  center.    All  things  that  surround  and  confront 
XLS  are  merely  manifestations  of  the  divine  life  that  constitutes 
the  center  of  existence.    Visible  and  prehensible  things  are  but 
ephemeral  phenomena.    The  divine  life  that  is  present  in  them 
alone  possesses  immortality.    Dwelling  in  the  heart  of  man  is 
a  spark  of  the  divine  life,  and  only  through  this  part  of  his  na- 
ture can  man  know  God«    The  aim  of  the  mystic  is  to  attain  to 
union  with  the  One,  the  divine.    So  he  ignores  the  fleeting  phe- 
nomena of  life  as  such  and  concentrates  all  his  faculties  upon  the 
spark  of  the  divine  that  glows  within  him  and  upon  God  with 


i62  THE  RENAISSANCE 


whom  he  desires  union.  Only  like  can  comprehend  like.  Fo 
the  contemplation  of  spiritual  things  there  is  required  a  facult 
iioo-iftoo  ^j^^  jg  j^gif  essentially  spiritual.  Such  a  faculty  the  individua 
possesses  in  his  soul.  The  soul  is  his  spiritual  eye  by  which  h 
may  g^dually  come  to  see  God.  The  soul  is  to  be  trusted  f  o 
the  discernment  of  spiritual  truth  just  as  implicitly  as  the  organ 
of  sensation  are  trusted  to  perceive  material  fact  This  spiritua 
insight  is  an  emotional  state  of  being.  It  is  not  a  mental  process 
The  ccmsciousness  of  physical  existence  must  gradually  be  less 
ened,  and  then  by  d^rees  the  consciousness  of  spiritual  exist 
ence  will  take  its  place.  So  eventually  shall  the  mystic  be  carrie< 
into  a  complete  fusion  with  the  divine  life  that  lies  at  the  hear 
of  the  universe,  so  shall  he  soar  to  those  transcendental  height 
where  all  distinction  between  creator  and  created  is  abolished 
But  absorption  in  the  Eternal  Word  is  not  the  sole  aim  of  th< 
mystic  of  the  western  world.  His  mysticism  is  not  incompatible 
with  the  practical  life.  His  outlook  upon  the  facts  of  earthl} 
life  is  not  less  clear  because  he  sees  beyond  them.  The  greet 
earth  on  which  he  lives  and  his  human  nature  are  not  devoic 
of  meaning  and  are  not  without  their  uses.  The  world  is  nol 
to  be  n^lected.  It  is  a  road  upon  which  one  walks  to  God 
The  duties  of  daily  life  are  purgative  and  they  teach  the  prin- 
ciples of  measure  and  discipline  which  are  divine  characteristics 
The  mystic  is  never  to  be  idle.  His  time  is  to  be  spent  in  prayer, 
or  meditation,  or  in  work  for  the  conunon  good. 

"  Not  alone,  not  alone  would  I  go  to  my  rest  in  the  heart  of  my 
love: 
Were  I  tranced  in  the  innermost  beauty,  the  flame  of  its  tender- 
est  breath, 
I  would  still  hear  the  cry  of  the  fallen  recalling  me  back  from 
above, 
To  go  down  to  the  side  of  the  people  who  weep  in  the  shadow 
of  death." 

It  is  only  in  the  hours  of  silent  contemplation  that  the  mystic 
becomes  lost  in  lonely  ecstasy,  in  the  seemingly  actual  presence 
of  divinity.  Mysticism,  like  so  many  other  types  and  phases  of 
religion,  had  its  cradle  in  the  Orient.  But  in  the  East  mysticism 
led  to  inactivity,  to  quietism,  to  Nirvana.  It  was  seldcxn  revo- 
lutionary. It  indulged  its  bold  speculations  under  the  cloak  of 
convention.  In  the  West  mysticism  has  generally  been  associated 
with  reform  and  sometimes  even  with  revolt  All  of  the  great 
mystics  of  the  West  have  been  men  of  energy  and  influence. 


THE  REVIVAL  OF  CONSCIENCE 


163 


Mysticism  is  not  confined  to  any  particular  creed.  It  finds  its 
followers  among  Catholics  and  Protestants  and  among  men  of 
every  race.  It  breaks  down  all  social  barriers.  It  lives  in  a 
region  far  above  the  clash  of  creeds  and  the  diversities  of  racial 
characteristics.  It  is  because  of  this  that  the  books  of  the  mys- 
tics have  always  made  so  wide  an  appeal,  that  they  have  brought 
to  members  of  every  sect  comfort  and  consolation.  But  mys- 
ticism, being  bom  of  temperament,  needs  a  special  condition  for 
its  propagation.  It  is  a  seed  that  will  not  grow  in  alien  soil. 
The  words  of  a  mystic  fall  meaningless  upon  the  ears  of  a  man 
who  is  not  fitted  by  temperament  to  apprehend  them.  The  pro- 
portion of  men  thus  fitted  has  never  been  very  large.  So  it  is 
impossible  for  mysticism  to  produce  a  great  religious  movement. 
Its  voice  is  resonant  only  in  the  chambers  of  its  own  dwelling. 
Yet  in  the  fourteenth  century  it  was  a  powerful  though  in- 
tangible force. 

Mysticism  did  not  flourish  in  France,  the  country  that  con- 
tributed most  to  the  development  of  scholasticism,  as  it  did  in 
Germany  and  in  the  Low  Countries.  The  French  genius  is  not 
given  to  mysticism.  It  requires  concrete  doctrines,  lucidly  and 
l(^cally  defined  and  systematically  articulated.  Yet  France,  like 
every  other  country,  has  produced  mystics.  Foremost  among 
the  French  mystics  was  Bernard  of  Clairvaux  (1091-1153), 
who  was  believed  to  have  accomplished  the  mystical  "  flight  of 
the  alone  to  the  Alone/'  to  have  seen  God  in  mystic  ecstasy  face 
to  face.  His  activities  were  by  no  means  confined  to  the  cloister. 
He  realized  keenly  the  corruption  of  the  Church  and  did  all  that 
he  could  for  its  correction.  He  boldly  pointed  out  to  Eugene  III 
the  abuses  of  the  papal  curia,  and  he  was  a  constant  and  power- 
ful advocate  of  a  better  daily  life.  Hugo  of  St.  Victor  ( 1097- 
1141)  was  a  Saxon  who  went  to  Paris  and  there  developed  a  new 
theory  of  spiritual  reality  that  was  a  distinct  addition  to  the 
thought  of  mysticism.  A  life  of  faith,  he  said,  in  the  living 
'world  is  the  indispensable  precursor  of  an  eternity  of  contem- 
plation. No  individual  may  reach  perfection  without  having 
dcme  his  part  in  making  the  world  better.  Richard  of  St.  Victor 
(?-ii73),  a  Scotchman  who  was  attracted  to  France,  also  con- 
tributed to  mystic  thought  and  was  active  in  promoting  the  prac- 
tical, ethical  side  of  life.  "  Let  him  who  thirsts  to  see  God," 
he  said,  "make  his  own  spirit  bright."  Jean  Gerson  (1363- 
1429)  was  the  last  of  a  group  of  French  thinkers  who  tried  to 
cciiid>ine  scholasticism  and  mysticism.  By  his  participation  in 
the  Council  of  Constance  he  became  one  of  the  most  notable 
figures  in  Europe.    Yet  he  was  essentially  a  mystic  rather  than 


1100-1500 


Th* 


MUrrtlM 


l64 


THE  RENAISSANCE 


OHAP. 


1100-1600 


Of  Flofa 


BrtxUft- 

inffCkNi- 

pel" 


an  ecclesiastical  politician.  Realizing  the  relation  of  the  life 
contemplative  to  the  life  active  he  wrote  and  preached  in  his 
mother  tongue,  emphasizing  the  simple  facts  of  primitive  Chris- 
tianity, and  in  later  years  he  devoted  himself  to  the  education  of 
children.  But  after  all  his  scholasticism  made  his  mysticism  an 
arid  and  a  formal  thing. 

Joachim  of  Flora  (ii32?-i202)  may  be  r^;arded  as  the  first 
important  personage  in  Italian  mysticism.    He  was  bom  in  Cala- 
bria, a  province  in  which  there  were  numerous  Greek  monasteries 
of  the  Order  of  St.  Basil,  which  formed  a  sort  of  connecting 
link  between  the  Greek  and  the  Latin  Churches,  inasmuch  as 
they  acknowledged  obedience  to  the  Roman  pontiff  while  at  the 
same  time  they  used  in  their  services  the  Greek  language  and 
liturgy.    Courtier,  crusader,  Cistercian,  and  hermit  in  turn,  he 
founded  a  new  monastic  order,  whose  strict  rules  were  perhaps 
derived  from  those  of  the  Basilian  monks,  and  he  became  the- 
principal  initiator  of  the  stream  of  mystic  and  communistic 
thought  in  which  dissatisfaction  with  the  practical  workings  of 
the  Church  expressed  itself  in  the  twelfth  and  thirteenth  cen- 
turies.   Yet  Joachim  was  not  a  thinker  of  the  highest  type.    His 
importance  is  somewhat  fortuitous.    His  writings  were  caught  on 
the  crest  of  the  great  Franciscan  wave,  and  then,  carried  far  and 
wide,  they  were  probably  changed  (the  revolutionary  doctrines 
which  they  suggested  being  given  more  explicit  statement)  and 
they  certainly  gave  rise  to  a  movement  of  greater  scope  than 
any  that  he  anticipated. 

Three  of  Joachim  of  Flora's  books  were  put  together  and  to 
them  was  added  an  introduction  usually  ascribed  to  Gerard  of 
Borgo  San  Donnino.  Then  somewhere  about  1254  the  book, 
under  the  title  of  The  Everlasting  Gospel,  made  a  great  sen- 
sation by  its  presentation  to  the  public  in  Paris.  It  was  radical 
in  its  teachings,  and  it  was  cherished  by  the  Spiritual  Francis- 
cans as  being  scarcely  less  important  than  the  Bible.  It  held 
that  there  were  three  ages  of  the  world.  The  age  of  the  Father, 
a  wintry  time  of  fear  and  trial  in  which  men  were  slaves,  a 
time  of  nettles,  a  time  represented  by  the  Old  Testament,  il- 
luminated by  the  stars,  had  passed  away.  The  age  of  the  Son, 
the  springtime  of  wisdom  and  action,  in  which  men  were  free- 
men, a  time  of  roses,  a  time  represented  by  the  New  Testament, 
illuminated  by  the  moon,  was  rapidly  coming  to  an  end.  In  six 
years  the  age  of  the  Holy  Ghost,  the  full  summer,  a  time  of  love 
and  contemplation,  in  which  men  were  to  be  friends,  a  time  of 
lilies,  a  time  represented  by  The  Everlasting  Gospel,  illumi- 
nated by  the  sun,  was  to  begin.    Monastic  clergy,  rather  than  the 


THE  REVIVAL  OF  CONSCIENCE  165 

hierarchy,  devoted  to  the  welfare  of  the  people,  were  to  be  the     <^^- 

ohief  religious  guides  of  the  new  age.    Poverty  and  love  were      

t:o  replace  wealth  and  arrogance  in  the  Church.  Men  were  to  i^o-xwo 
be  so  trustful  of  each  other  that  all  property  was  to  be  held  in 
ooiimioa  The  laity  received  the  book  with  great  applause  and 
eageiiy  devoured  it,  for  its  indictment  of  the  corruption  of  the 
Oiurch  coincided  with  the  popular  conviction.  Soon  the  name 
of  The  Everlasting  Gospel  broadened  from  that  of  a  book 
into  that  of  a  doctrine.  It  was  too  revolutionary  to  remain  long 
^^^ithout  the  disapprobation  of  the  Church.  In  1255  the  book, 
or  at  any  rate  the  introduction,  was  formally  condemned  because 
of  heresies  it  was  allied  to  contain. 

No  other  group  of  men  so  immediately  and  so  eagerly  wel- 
comed  The  Everlasting  Gospel  as  did  the  Spiritual  Francis- 
cans.    Very  soon  after  its  institution  the  Franciscan  Order  began 
to  acquire  property  and  to  show  signs  of  moral  laxity.    Grad-  ThtflFixti. 
ually  two  parties  were  formed  within  the  Order  —  the  Spiritual-  Jj^jj*" 
ists  and  the  Conventuals.    The  former  wished  the  rule  of  St. 
Francis  to  be  observed  literally;  the  latter  by  ingenious  inter- 
pretations evaded  the  prohibition  to  acquire  property.    Bitter 
enmity  existed  between  the  two  parties.    The  Conventuals  were 
quick  to  seize  the  opportunity  offered  by  the  connection  of  the 
Spirituals  with  the  revolutionary  teachings  of  The  Everlasting 
Gospel.    They  succeeded  in  securing  the  removal  of  John  of 
Parma,  a  member  of  the  Spiritual  party,  from  the  generalate  of 
the  order.    A  schism  in  the  order  was  prevented  only  by  the 
wisd(»n  and  the  commanding  personality  of  Bonaventura,  the 
succeeding  general,  who  was  committed  to  neither  party.    But 
dissension  continued;  the  Spirituals  still  denounced  the  engross- 
ment of  the  Church  in  worldly  affairs  and  continued  to  insist 
upon  the  literal  acceptance  of  the  Franciscan  rule.    Some  of  them 
went  to  great  extremes  and  the  Church  persecuted  them. 

Still  another  sect  arose  within  the  Franciscan  order,  the  Frati- 
celli,  the  little  brothers  of  the  life  of  poverty.  They  were  mod- 
erate Spirituals  who,  nevertheless,  held  that  the  popes  who  had  Th«7Snai» 
favored  the  Conventuals  and  sanctioned  their  possession  of  prop-  •**"* 
erty  had  condemned  the  life  of  Christ  and  were  unlawful  popes. 
Poverty,  they  said,  was  the  law  of  Christ,  and  therefore  when  the 
Church  acquired  property  it  became  the  synagogue  of  the  devil. 
The  assertion  that  neither  Christ  nor  the  apostles  had  held  prop- 
erty was  made  a  test  for  heresy  by  the  Papacy,  and  many  of  the 
Fraticelli  who  persisted  in  the  assertion  were  burned  at  the  stake. 
In  turn  the  "little  brothers"  pointed  to  the  idleness  and  the 
immorality  of  the  clergy,  and  declared  the  whole  Church  to  be 


i66 


THE  RENAISSANCE 


OHAP. 


1100.1500 


IligiirfJll 
and  ZH>1- 
olno 


8t.0ath- 

arlna  of 

SitlUI 


heretic.  They  carried  their  proselytizing  activity  into  various 
lands,  but  at  last  they  succumbed  to  persecutions  and  the  sect 
became  extinct. 

According  to  The  Everlasting  Gospel  the  year  1260  was  to 
witness  the  b^^ning  of  the  age  of  the  Holy  Ghost.  Emotional 
excitement  increased  as  the  appointed  time  drew  near.  Process 
sions  of  flagellants  scourging  their  naked  bodies  filled  the  high- 
ways of  Italy.  Among  those  touched  with  the  contagion  of  peni- 
tence and  reform  was  Gerard  Sagarelli  (  ?-i30o)y  an  uneducated 
youth  of  Parma,  of  lowly  birth.  He  imitated  the  dress  of  apos- 
tolic times  as  represented  in  the  mosaics  and  frescoes  of  the 
churches,  and  he  gathered  about  him  a  body  of  rustics  who  pro- 
fessed to  practise  the  simple  life  of  the  apostles.  Later  on  their 
ranks  were  augmented  by  members  of  other  classes.  Eventually 
the  new  Order  of  the  Apostolic  Brethren  was  proscribed  and 
Sagarelli  was  burned  by  the  Inquisition.  The  widespread  re- 
ligious unrest  of  the  time,  the  profound  discontent  with  the 
moral  condition  of  the  world,  increased  the  membership  of  the 
Apostolic  Order,  despite  the  persecution  that  it  suflEered.  A 
new  leader  was  found  in  Dolcino  (?-i307),  a  man  of  intellect 
and  some  learning,  who  with  1400  followers  fled  to  the  Alps 
and  there  for  several  years  with  great  skill  and  bravery,  suc- 
ceeded in  escaping  the  clutches  of  the  Inquisition. 

Italy  was  at  this  time  the  "  hostelry  of  sorrow.''  The  popes 
were  absent  in  Avignon.  The  peninsula  was  in  a  state  of  an- 
archy. The  immorality  of  all  classes  was  constantly  increasing. 
The  spirit  of  worldliness  had  taken  complete  possession  of  the 
Church.  Not  the  least  among  the  mystic  revivalists  who  at- 
tempted to  reform  this  state  of  affairs,  and  among  the  most 
practical  of  them,  were  two  women.  The  first,  St.  Bridget 
(1304-73),  was  a  Swedish  princess  who  founded  in  Italy  a 
new  order  of  nuns  that  had  for  its  ideal  the  combining  of  the 
life  contemplative,  as  exemplified  in  the  life  of  Mary,  with  the 
life  active,  as  represented  by  the  life  of  Martha.  She  protested 
against  the  deplorable  state  of  the  clergy  and  endeavored  to 
secure  the  return  of  the  papacy  to  Rome.  The  second,  St. 
Catharine  of  Siena  (1347-80),  daughter  of  a  dyer,  is  a  luminous 
figure  in  the  somber  picture  of  the  time.  She  led  a  remarkable 
life  of  contemplation,  filled  with  an  intense  and  passionate  de- 
sire for  personal  communion  with  Christ,  and  at  the  same  time 
in  her  extraordinary  public  activity  she  displayed  unusual 
worldly  wisdom  and  sagacity.  In  impa3sioned  utterance  she 
urged  the  abandonment  of  Avignon,  strove  to  heal  the  wounds 
of  Italy,  and  to  unite  the  European  nations  against  the  Turk. 


THE  REVIVAL  OF  CONSCIENCE  167 

In  penetrating  accents  she  pleaded  for  the  redress  of  the  moral     <>^^- 

evils  of  the  time,  that  were  so  gross,  so  open,  and  so  avowed.      

She  made  herself  the  leading  statesman  of  Italy  in  the  four-  iw^^iwo 
teenth  century,  but  she  was  happiest  in  her  narrow  cell  that 
for  her  was  often  "  filled  with  the  fragrance  of  the  lilies  of  Para- 
dise and  sweet  with  its  ineffable  melodies."  w- 

Mysticism  found  in  Germany  a  soil  well  fitted  to  receive  its 
seed.  It  became  the  most  important  feature  of  the  spiritual 
life  of  that  country  in  the  fourteenth  century.  In  the  German 
genius  there  is  a  strange  intermingling  of  materialism  and  senti- 
ment, of  crude  and  violent  desires  and  tender  and  intimate  re- 
ligion, that  often-times  assumes  the  form  of  mysticism.  Be- 
cause of  his  philosophical  genius  Meister  Eckhart  (?-i328), 
the  greatest  of  all  speculative  mystics,  may  be  considered  as  the 
founder  of  German  mysticism,  though  before  his  time  Mech- 
lild  of  Magdeburg,  who  also  worked  for  the  reformation  of  the 
Church,  made  an  exposition  of  mysticism  and  pointed  out  its 
relation  to  the  social  problems  of  the  time.  Not  much  is  known 
of  his  life.  He  became  a  Dominican  friar  and  taught  with  dis- 
tinction in  the  University  of  Paris.  Then  he  became  an  official 
of  his  order  in  Saxony  and  in  Bohemia  and  a  teacher  of  theology 
at  Cologne.  He  died  in  the  midst  of  the  proceedings  of  the 
Inquisition  against  him  for  heresy.  Despite  the  fact  that  his 
philosophy  logically  leads  to  withdrawal  from  the  world,  the 
modem  spirit  induced  him  to  take  an  active  part  in  the  life  of 
the  time.  When  he  preached  to  the  German  people  in  their  own 
tongue  he  often  dwelt  upon  the  operation  of  the  spirit  of  God 
through  a  life  devoted  to  the  common  welfare.  His  writings 
contain  frequent  expressions  of  dissatisfaction  with  the  immor- 
ality of  the  time;  and  he  rejected  external  ceremonies  and 
observances  as  unnecessary  and  emphasized  the  virtues  of  hu- 
mility and  love. 

All  the  mystics  who  followed  Eckhart  were  primarily  con- 
cerned with  an  active,  helpful  life.  Not  one  of  them  added  any- 
thing of  importance  to  mysticism  as  a  speculative  system.  Their 
mysticism  was  known,  as  every  religion  is  best  known,  by  its 
fruits.  The  vivid  Life  of  Heinrich  von  Berg  (1295?-!  365),  guoand 
better  known  as  Suso,  written  with  a  keen  sense  of  reality,  re-  *•"*•' 
veals  a  mystic  who,  though  much  occupied  with  the  phantasma- 
goria superinduced  by  mental  concentration  and  bodily  anguish, 
was  not  concerned  with  the  spiritual  image  of  eternity  to  the 
complete  exclusion  of  the  daily  life  of  earth.  This  autobiogra- 
phy, full  of  poetic  fervor,  shows  that  its  author  greatly  desired  a 
reformation  of  the  world  about  him.    He  accepted  the  monastic 


i68 


THE  RENAISSANCE 


1100-1000 


Ifuiifefta- 
Uoiuiof 


M^ffttdiift 


life  as  the  highest  life,  though  many  years  of  his  career  were  de- 
voted to  active  usef  tilness.  The  real  successor  of  Eckhart  was 
John  Tauler  (i300?-6i),  a  mystic  less  neurotic  than  Suso»  a 
preacher  of  robust  eloquence,  a  thinker  as  well  as  a  preacher, 
who  devoted  his  life  to  active  work,  and  who  deemed  evetything 
and  every  person  to  be  a  medium  through  which  God  could  be 
heard  and  seen.  No  priest  is  necessary,  he  said,  to  bring  the 
individual  soul  into  relationship  with  God.  The  sacraments  are 
not  essential  to  salvation.  He  insisted  upon  the  necessity  of  a 
practical  religious  life.  ''  No  one,"  he  said,  "  may  leave  off 
doing  good  works." 

German  mysticism  effected  several  important  practical  mani- 
festations of  itself.  The  first  of  these  was  the  formation  of  a 
secret  organization  of  men  and  women,  initiated  probably  by  the 
mysterious  person  known  as  the  Friend  of  God  in  the  Oberland, 
who  has  been  held  by  some  writers,  though  seemingly  incorrectly 
so,  to  have  been  Nicholas  of  Basel.  The  members  of  this  secret 
fellowship  were  not  very  numerous,  for  only  individuals  having 
affinity  for  its  mysticism  were  chosen,  but  though  their  chief 
scene  of  action  was  the  region  of  the  upper  Rhine,  they  were  to 
be  found  scattered  as  far  to  the  east  and  south  as  Hungary  and 
Genoa.  It  was  the  purpose  of  the  association  to  develop  the 
spiritual  life  of  its  members.  They  endeavored  to  avoid  the  at- 
tention of  the  Inquisition  and  in  consequence  of  their  secrecy  an 
air  of  mystery  still  surrounds  them.  A  second  practical  outcome 
of  German  mysticism  was  the  association  of  the  Brethren  of  the 
Free  Spirit,  whose  members  first  appeared  in  the  Rhine  country 
and  were  afterwards  found  in  other  parts  of  Germany  and  in 
France  and  Switzerland.  Little  is  known  of  their  creed,  aside 
from  the  reports  of  their  trials  as  heretics,  but  they  were  prob- 
ably steeped  in  pantheism,  and  many  of  their  weaker  members 
became  addicted  to  gross  forms  of  immorality.  One  result  of 
their  teaching  was  to  render  the  individual  independent  of  the 
priesthood.  They  carried  on  a  propaganda  by  publishing  books 
and  pamphlets  in  the  vernacular.  Still  another  practical  result 
of  German  mysticism  is  the  Buchlein  von  deutscher  Theoto* 
gie,  written  at  Frankfurt  in  the  fourteenth  century  by  a  priest 
whose  name  has  been  forgotten.  The  unknown  author  was 
probably  a  solitary  thinker  who  cared  little  for  fame,  but  his 
book  is  one  that  will  live.  Luther  discovered  it  and  in  1516 
published  it  for  the  first  time.  He  tells  us  that  next  to  the  Bible 
and  the  writings  of  Augustine  no  other  book  wielded  so 
great  an  influence  upon  him.  It  is  a  book  through  which  flow 
the  deep  currents  of  humanity  and  one  that  speaks  with  the  Ian- 


THE  REVIVAL  OF  CONSCIENCE  169 

TC  of  the  heart.    It  inculcates  a  semi-mystical  doctrine  that     ^S^' 

^ery  little  to  do  with  the  Church,  with  its  authority,  its  creeds,      . 

5  discipUne.     It  aims  to  make  a  practical  application  of  the  ^^^^^^^ 

ic  speculations,  to  make  them  a  living  f prce  for  good  in  the 

life  of  the  world. 

'sticism  flourished  in  England.    No  race  has  shown  a  richer 

3f  mysticism  and  a  more  profound  sense  of  the  mystery  of 

lan  the  Knglish.    Amid  all  the  materialism  of  the  nineteenth  ru 

ry   no    other  race  produced  such  a  wonderful  group  of  ^' 

Stic  pK>ets.    But  the  English  mystics  as  a  rule  have  dealt 

with  the  theoretical  side  of  mysticism.     Instead  they  have 

ssentially  practical  lives.    They  have  instructed  youth  as 

ers  in  the  schools,  and  as  parish  priests  they  have  ministered 

5  daily  needs  of  the  common  people.    Richard  Rolle  (1290?- 

)    disapproved  of  the  hair-splitting  of  the  scholastics  and 

^  of  the  conventional  views  of  religion  of  his  time.    He  ex- 

1    the   contemplative  life,  but  he  endeavored  by  practical 

IS  to  instil  into  the  mass  of  the  people  an  active  religious 

L      He  wrote  a  number  of  treatises,  all  of  them  devoted  to 

-living,  and  most  of  them  intended  for  the  common  people. 

ter  Hilton  (  ?-i396),  a  follower  of  Rolle,  was  "  a  ful  devoute 

"  -who  like  his  master  wrote  freely  in  English  for  the  reli- 

s  edification  of  his  countrymen. 

ysticism  found  a  fruitful  soil  in  the  Low  Countries.    It  was 

e  that  the  semi-religious  bodies  of  the  Beghards  and  the 

nines  arose,  associations  of  men  and  women  who  desired  to  tim 

a  religious  and  communal  life  without  being  irrevocably  SSro^ 
oved  from  the  world  by  the  vows  of  monasticism.    There  «•• 
e  many  motives  that  impelled  men  and  especially  women  to 
I  a  life  at  that  time  —  political  disturbances,  economic  want, 

the  prevalent  immorality  of  the  time.  The  loss  of  vast 
ibers  of  the  male  population  by  the  Crusades  left  many 
nen  without  protectors.    This  was  an  immediate  incentive  to 

formation  of  the  Beguine  associations.  Similar  organiza- 
is  of  men,  the  Beghards,  were  formed  at  a  later  time.  They 
d  by  the  labor  of  their  hands,  and  in  their  spare  time  they 
oted  themselves  to  deeds  of  charity.  They  increased  with 
at  rapidity  because  they  answered  the  needs  of  the  time  and 
•e  supported  by  influential  and  powerful  patrons.  Eventually 
jr  fell  away  from  their  ideals  and  became  idle  and  corrupt. 
n  of  Ruysbrook  (i  293-1 381)  was  a  Flemish  mystic  who 
nded  an  abbey  in  the  forest  of  Soignies  and  lived  there  dur- 

the  remainder  of  his  days.  He  divided  life  into  the  active 
,  which  every  man  must  live  well  in  order  to  be  saved,  and 


170 


THE  RENAISSANCE 


1100-1600 


ThomMA 
Kimpia 


the  inner  life  of  contemplative  love,  to  which  men  may  attain 
only  by  the  practice  of  the  virtues  and  the  grace  of  God.  He 
realized  the  value  of  good  works,  but  he  also  insisted  upon  the 
danger  of  exaggerating  their  importance.  "  To  place  chief  em- 
phasis upon  good  works/'  he  said,  ''  is  to  take  the  surface  for 
the  essence.  It  is  n^lecting  the  truth  for  the  form.  Man  must 
be  brought  back  to  the  internal  life  in  order  to  be  brought  nearer 
to  God."  In  his  denunciation  of  the  immorality  of  the  time  he 
spared  neither  pope,  nor  prelates,  nor  monks,  nor  laity.  Gerard 
Groote  (1340-84)  was  a  man  of  wealth  and  intellect  who  after 
studying  in  the  University  of  Paris  led  a  life  of  cultured  ease 
as  a  church  lawyer  until  a  friend  who  had  become  a  Carthusian 
monk  summoned  him  to  a  religious  life.  Then  the  seed  of 
mysticism  within  him  germinated.  He  renounced  his  many 
offices,  took  holy  orders,  became  an  itinerant  preacher,  and  en- 
tered upon  a  new  way  of  life.  He  met  with  great  success  as  a 
reformer  of  the  clergy,  an  educator  of  the  young,  and  the 
founder  of  a  semi-monastic  society.  Attracted  by  the  personality 
of  Groote  there  gathered  about  the  eloquent  preacher  a  group 
of  friends,  and  eventually  this  group,  under  the  direction  of 
Groote  and  his  friend  Florentius  Radewyn,  was  permanently 
organized  into  a  society,  under  the  Augustinian  rule  that  con- 
duced to  physical  health  and  intellectual  activity,  with  the  name 
of  the  Brothers  and  Sisters  of  the  Common  Life.  The  members 
of  the  two  branches  of  the  new  order  did  not  immure  themselves 
in  the  seclusion  of  the  cloister.  They  lived  under  a  common  roof, 
observed  the  rules  of  poverty,  chastity,  and  obedience,  but  they 
were  not  bound  by  the  irrevocable  vows.  They  could,  therefore, 
return  to  the  ordinary  life  of  the  world  whenever  they  desired. 
Unlike  the  monks  they  did  not  depend  for  support  upon  endow- 
ments and  unlike  the  friars  they  did  not  depend  upon  alms.  In- 
stead they  lived  by  their  own  work.  They  believed  that  purity 
of  life  and  the  education  of  youth  are  the  prime  requisites  for 
the  salvation  of  society.  So  they  devoted  themselves  to  good 
works  and  in  particular  to  the  cause  of  popular  educa'tion.  Their 
teaching  was  as  practical,  as  liberal,  and  as  enlightened,  as  the 
educational  knowledge  of  the  time  permitted,  and  their  lives  were 
characterized  by  a  sincere  and  simple  piety  that  is  still  vocal  in 
the  pages  of  The  Imitation  of  Christ, 

The  new  order  grew  so  rapidly  that  within  thirty  years  it  had 
thirty-seven  convents  for  men  and  eight  for  women.  Among  its 
convents  was  that  of  St.  Agnes  near  Zwolle.  There  it  was  thai 
Thomas  d  Kempis  (1380-1471),  who  had  already  acquired  the 
two  accomplishments  of  singing  and  writing,  that  gave  him 


THE  REVIVAL  OF  CONSCIENCE  171 


tlonof 
ObriH 


SO  much  pleasure,  in  a  school  having  an  intimate  relation  with 
the  convent  of  the  brotherhood  at  Deventer,  went  to  live  when 
he  was  a  boy  of  nineteen,  and  there  it  was  that  he  passed  almost  ^^^••^•^ 
the  whole  of  his  long  and  quiet  life.  Thomas  was  an  exquisite 
penman.  All  his  heart  and  soul  he  put  into  his  work,  for  he 
believed  that  the  hands  of  the  transcriber  of  books,  the  fountains 
of  eternal  life,  are  indeed  blessed.  He  was  glad  to  relinquish 
the  various  offices  that  he  held  and  to  get  back  to  the  quiet  and 
peaceful  round  of  copying  books,  writing  his  brief  treatises, 
instructing  the  novices,  and  solitary  meditation  in  the  little  cell 
that  was  so  dear  to  him.  Political  disorder,  spiritual  unrest,  and 
the  visitations  of  the  plague  all  failed  to  move  him  either  to 
indignation  or  to  despair.  Beyond  the  clamor  of  the  busy  world, 
undisturbed  by  the  thoughts  and  the  deeds  of  awakening  Europe, 
the  serene  days  of  his  cloistral  life  flowed  on  year  after  year 
like  a  placid  stream.  There  in  the  convent  by  the  green  hill  he 
walked  through  life  with  the  air  of  a  pilgrim  to  whom  the  world 
is  but  a  road.  And  there  it  was  that  he  wrote  The  Imitation  of 
Christ,  a  book  that  has  been  translated  into  every  civilized  tongue 
and  more  than  three  thousand  editions  of  which  are  known  to  TiMimiu 
exist,  a  book  that  continues  as  a  living  force  to-day.  Men  of 
the  most  diverse  personalities  have  loved  it  —  Luther  and 
Lamartine,  Doctor  Johnson  and  Baron  Leibnitz.  What  is  the 
cause  of  such  long-continued  and  widespread  favor?  It  is  the 
purity,  the  peace,  and  the  simplicity  of  the  life  for  which  it 
pleads,  the  incomparable  beauty  and  the  unstudied  dignity  of 
its  utterance,  and  the  depth  and  the  sincerity  of  its  spiritual 
emotion.  It  has  its  limitations.  Its  horizon  is  bounded  by  the 
convent  walls.  It  regards  the  actual  world  as  the  "  land  of  the 
shadow  of  death."  It  is  a  defense  of  the  recluse  and  his  ideal 
of  life.  It  holds  that  man  can  reach  the  infinite  by  mere  nega- 
tbn  of  the  finite.  It  ignores  the  virtues  of  family  and  social 
life  in  the  outer  and  the  common  world  of  men.  It  is  indifferent 
to  the  interests  of  the  mass  of  humanity.  It  accepts  a  life  of 
solitude  and  resignation  as  though  it  were  the  whole  of  spiritual- 
ity instead  of  bearing  as  it  does  something  of  the  same  relation 
to  the  entire  life  of  the  outer  world  that  scupltured  marble  bears 
to  breathing  flesh.  Rightly  understood  Christianity  is  a  religion 
of  self-regard  in  the  highest  and  noblest  sense,  not  self-annihila- 
tion nor  even  self-abn^^tion.  Yet  all  men  are  not  alike.  Life 
is  various.  There  is  need  in  the  sum  total  of  society  for  every 
Icind  of  excellence,  and  the  life  of  contemplation  lends  something 
to  the  ideals  of  humanity.  Not  long  after  the  death  of  Thomas 
i  Kempis  a  bitter  dispute  as  to  the  authorship  of  the  Imitation 


172  THE  RENAISSANCE 


1100-1500 


broke  out.  Jean  Gerson,  chancellor  of  the  University  of  Paris 
is  the  principal  claimant  put  forward  by  those  who  have  denied 
the  claims  of  the  recluse  of  the  convent  of  St  Agnes.  Bui 
the  general  consensus  of  scholarship  confirms  Thomas  as  th< 
author. 

The  papal  curia  and  the  great  prdates  of  the  hierarchy  hac 
long  been  preoccupied  with  temporal  afiFairs.  The  visible  Qiurd 
was  busy  with  its  vast  political,  juristic,  economic,  and  financia 
activities  to  the  n^lect  of  its  spiritual  functions.  To  do  awa) 
with  corruption  in  the  lives  of  the  clergy  and  laity,  and  to  brinj 
the  Church  to  a  recognition  of  the  paramount  importance  of  hei 
^mS^  spiritual  mission  was  the  work  of  all  the  reformers  who  re 
oooMiflDoe  mained  within  her  fold.  The  monks  turned  their  backs  upon  th< 
world.  The  friars  called  men  to  repentance.  A  few  popes  en- 
deavored in  a  feeble  way  to  improve  the  papal  administration 
The  conciliar  reformers  strove  to  secure  the  recognition  of  theii 
theory  which  was  to  be  the  basis  of  further  procedure.  The 
biblical  reformers,  who  endeavored  to  recall  the  simplicity  oi 
apostolic  times,  were  much  more  radical  than  the  great  sects  oi 
the  Protestant  Revolution.  They  passed  far  beyond  the  timid 
reforms  of  Luther  and  the  other  leaders  of  his  time.  That  h 
why  they  failed.  They  were  too  advanced,  too  revolutionary. 
In  order  to  succeed  a  revolution  must  accept  the  present  while 
effecting  its  gradual  transformation.  Christianity,  which  wa^ 
itself  a  revolution,  had  accepted  the  past  Only  thus  can  progress 
be  effected.  And,  again,  the  Biblical  reformers  failed  because 
the  only  program  they  had  to  offer  was  an  absolute  return  to  the 
past.  In  their  single  desire  to  recall  primitive  Christianity  thej 
took  no  account  of  the  progress  of  civilization,  of  the  interests 
and  the  needs  of  modem  times.  They  looked  backwards,  nol 
forwards.  A  revolution  in  order  to  be  successful  must  not  only 
connect  the  past  with  the  present,  but  it  must  be  essentially  a 
forward  movement.  '^^^|][;^**^Yiitiri*i  ^''"fftlt  thfi  g"p^^"i^  ^^  **y- 
terpal  works  save  only  as  ^hey  are  fjirec^tft^^  Hy  ^  gpintn^l  ^n^ 

Andjthey  onphasized  the  independenca-ol-tbe  individual  in  sa- 
curing  his  own  salvation.  Although  their  point  of  yieWj  emlyaC' 
in^liTiF  did  the  liberty  of  the  individual,,  (fid  not  accord  with  the 
iron  unity  which  the  Church  sought  to  impose  upon  Christendom, 
all  Ihe  iiiy sties  remained  within  the  bosom  of  the  Church.  Yet 
their  consideration  of  religion  as  an  internal  sentiment  unites 
them  in  a  fundamental  way  to  the  leaders  of  the  Protestant  Revo- 
lution. Mysticism  is  a  powerful  solvent  of  all  external  authority. 
That  is  why  the  mystics  were  brushed  aside  so  rudely  in  the  Prot- 
estant Revolution.    The  leaders  of  revolt  who  were  bent  upon 


THE  REVIVAL  OF  CONSCIENCE  173 

stihsdttitiiig  a  new  authority  for  the  one  they  displaced  were  dis-     *Sm* 

tnistful  of  them.    *'  I  despise  such  men/'  said  Luther,  "  they  care      

for  nothing  but  spirit."    Yet  mysticism  was  a  potent  factor  in      ^'^ 
making  possible  the  success  of  the  religious  revolution ;  and  in  the 
time  of  the  Catholic  Reformation  it  enjoyed  a  restoration  and  a 
new  growth. 

None  of  these  movements  was  able  to  effect  a  general  reforma- 
tion ;  nor  did  all  combined  succeed.  Yet  not  one  of  them  was  in 
vain.  Th^  were  all  mingled  in  the  great  stream  that  was  slowly 
gathering  force  and  would  soon  burst  into  a  flood.  Each  must  MUMom 
be  counted  as  a  definite  and  permanent  factor  in  bringing  to  pass  ^^^J*" 
the  Protestant  Revolution.  They  went  to  form  the  general  con-  to.tii* 
science,  the  universal  recognition  of  the  need  of  reform.  If  the  2t«iitttra 
Revolution  had  found  no  echo,  no  response,  in  the  general  con- 
science of  the  time  it  would  have  been  unsuccessful.  The  great 
movement  of  reform  met  with  success  precisely  because  men's 
minds  were  prepared  for  it  and  were  expecting  it.  Every  accu- 
sation that  Luther  made  and  every  reform  that  he  suggested 
had  resounded  through  Christendom  long  before  the  opening  of 
the  sixteenth  century.  The  successful  leaders  of  revolt  were 
not  a  handful  of  men  who,  solely  by  their  personal  power,  in- 
dticed  the  people  to  follow  them  dXong  a  new  way.  Long  before 
their  time  the  soil  was  prepared  for  the  seed.  Long  ago  the 
conscience  of  men,  rehabilitated  by  the  development  of  individu- 
ality, had  become  dissatisfied  with  the  external  activity  of  the 
papal  curia,  and  had  come  to  regard  an  interior  religion  as  of 
paramount  importance.  Only  thus  can  the  rapid  progress  of  the 
Protestant  Revolution  in  all  classes  of  society  be  explained.  The 
time  was  ripe  for  revolt,  and  if  the  Saxon  friar  had  not  precipi- 
tated it  some  one  else  would  undoubtedly  have  taken  his  place. 

There  was  still  another  class  of  reformers  —  the  htmianistic 
reformers.  Of  them  we  shall  see  more  in  a  later  chapter.  Tkewiadr 
Everywhere  the  intellectual  revival  was  breathing  new  life  into  2L 
the  channels  of  European  thought.  The  new  attitude  towards 
life  had  made  its  way  over  the  Alps.  The  winds  of  freedom 
were  blowing.  The  prosperous  life  of  the  towns  was  prepared 
and  eager  to  receive  the  new  ideal.  The  burghers  had  found 
places  for  themselves  in  the  professions.  They  were  able  to 
read  and  to  write  and  to  think  for  themselves.  Commerce,  indus- 
try, and  material  enterprise  of  every  kind  were  in  their  hands. 
The  printing  press  was  distributing  innumerable  pamphlets  and 
books.  Humanism  north  of  the  Alps  was  unlike  that  of  Italy. 
It  was  content  with  no  unfruitful  skepticism.  It  was,  as  we 
shall  see  later  on,  destined  to  help  the  people  to  effect  a  reforma- 


174  THE  RENAISSANCE 


1600 


tion  for  themselves,  to  turn  the  tremendous  force  of  secular 
culture  into  the  channel  of  religious  reconstruction. 

In  the  time  of  the  Protestant  Revolution  several  spiritual  re- 
formers, not  the  well-known  leaders  but  obscure  prophets,  whom 
we  are  to  deal  with  in  a  later  chapter,  drew  together  all  the 
tentative,  inquiring  and  struggling  movements  for  reform,  put 
an  end  to  the  dualism  which  the  Church  had  established  between 
the  claims  of  the  present  world  and  those  of  the  future  life,  and 
made  religion  an  inner  possession,  the  product  of  personality, 
and  the  inspiration  of  the  finest  powers  of  the  individual. 


1200^0 


CHAPTER  IX 

THE  AGE  OF  DISCOVERY 

I.  Discovery  and  its  Motives, 

a.  Its  Medieval  Hindrances. 

3.  The  Influence  of  the  Crusades. 

4.  The  Italian,  Portuguese,  and  Spanish  Discoverers. 

5.  Results  of  the  Discoveries. 

r\ISCOVERY  was  the  one  activity  of  the  various  revivals  crap,  xx 
^  oi  the  time  most  open  to  the  common  man.  But  not  even 
discovery  is  universal.-— It-bay-  had  itS  periods  df  disprizal  when 
explorers  failed  to  get  a  hearing  and  were  left  to  eat  their 
hearts  out  in  poverty  and  n^lect.  It  has  had  its  great  ages 
when  discoverers  were  endowed  and  when  learning  and  invention 
contributed  to  their  success.    Such  an  age  was  the  Renaissance. 

Discovery  has  many  motives.  Q^QOsity,  not  so  scientific  and  Mouvei 
disinterested  as  the  spirit  that  animates  our  men  of  science  to-day,  •*  ^>*««o^* 
impelled  the  men  of  the  Renaissance  to  explore  the  rich  and 
splendid  East.  Europeans  went  forth  over  unknown  lands  and 
perilous  seas  and  came  back  with  wonderful  knowledge  and  still 
more  wonderful  fables.  With  stimulating  imagination  they  told 
their  stories  of  the  magnificent  and  highly  civilized  Orient,  of 
its  infinite  store  of  gold,  and  pearls,  and  spices.  Geographical 
inquisitiveness  grew  upon  that  which  fed  it,  and  vast  dreams  of 
Wealth  seemed  certain  of  fulfilment,  (^ntnmerrg;  fgH^^pH  ViarH 
upon  the  heels  of  curiosity  and  became  one  of  the  most  powerful 
oFall  the  motives  oi  discovery.  For  the  new  luxuries,  many  of 
which  by  this  time  were  passing  over  into  necessities,  Europe  was 
dependent  upon  Asia.  Still  later  imperial  ideas  as  well  as 
dreams  of  gain  were  a  stimulus  to  exploration.  And  then,  potent 
from  first  to  last,  incentive  o^  daring  and  romantic  deeds,  result- 
ing in  astonishing  triumphs  and  pathetic  failures,  was  the  reli- 
gious motive,  the  crusading  passion  whose  fires,  long  burning  low, 
flamed  as  high  as  ever  in  the  heart  of  Columbus.  ^^ 

When  the  destroying  Turk  blocked  the  inter-continental  land  icMitn) 
routes  men  b^;an  to  seek  new  ways  to  the  East.    The  only  new  ^[Jjj; 
routes  were  water-ways.    But  in  the  Middle  Ages  there  were 
many  hindrances  to  maritime  discovery.    Caravans  that  crept 

175 


176  THE  RENAISSANCE 

^^^^^•'^  along  the  known  and  noted  tracks,  river  navigation,  and  coast 
1800-60  sailing,  were  the  only  means  of  travel  at  that  time.  The  Atlantic 
as  it  appeared  to  medieval  sailors  was  a  Sea  of  Darkness,  a  terri- 
fying place  on  which  to  adventure.  In  mist  and  fog,  with  neither 
sum  nor  stars  to  guide,  how  could  they  keep  their  way?  And 
then  they  were  likely  to  meet  not  only  with  tempests  and  other 
common  perils  but  with  the  Kraken,  or  the  Sirens,  or  the  dreaded 
Bishop  of  the  Seas  with  his  glowing  miter.  The  revival  of 
science  and  invention  removed  many  of  thgse  hindf^nc^.  New 
shapes  of  keel  and  prow  were  invented  thatmade  wind  and  wave 
teninbutory  to  navigation.  The  compass  and  the  rudder,  were 
lade  serviceable.  Then  came  the  quadrat  and  the  astrolabe 
iat  made  possible  something  like  systematic  ocean  navigation. 
The  Crusad^g.  themselves  an  expression  of  a  spirit  of  expan- 
sion, exercised  a  most  powerful  influence  upon  discovery.  They 
failed  to  accomplish  their  immediate  objects,  and  ended  in  mili- 
tary disaster.  But  they  pnip^^  ngf  pathQ  nf  fntiiri*  conquest 
To  the  new-bom  nations  of  the  West,  they  suggested  lines  of 
XntiMBM  practical  religious  missionary  efforts,  and  they  greatly  enlaiged 
2jj^jj^i^  the  sphere  of  commercial  enterprise.  They  stimulated  pilgrhn- 
age,  trade,  travel,  and  missionary  activity.  Pilgrim  travel  was 
the  first  manifestation  of  medieval  expansion,  and  for  a  lot^ 
time  it  was  the  most  vital  and  typical  outlet  of  the  expansive 
activity  of  Christendom.  But  gradually  with  the  pilgrims  went 
other  wayfarers,  travelers,  merchants,  and  missionaries.  The 
spirit  of  mercantile  enterprise  became  ever  stronger.  During 
the  Crusades  the  commerce  between  the  Orient  and  the  Occident 
grew  to  vast  proportions.  The  merchants  did  not  stoa  at  the 
Syrian  sites  that  were  the  destination  of  the  pilgrims,  but  they 
crept  on  from  the  Mediterranean  to  the  Yellow  Sea.  Back  from 
the  East  in  heavily  laden  caravels  and  caravans  they  brought 
silk,  ivory,  perfume,  spices,  and  gems.  The  imagination  of 
Europe  was  inflamed  with  stories  of  the  riches  and  the  wonders 
of  the  far-off  East,  which  to  every  adventurous  spirit  became  a 
veritable  El  Dorado.  To  the  merchant  was  added  t^^  missionarv. 
Envoys  from  Rome  made  their  way  over  the  plains  of  central 
Asia  to  the  court  of  the  Great  Khan  in  the  effort  to  win  to 
Christianity  the  wild  Mongols  whose  conquests  were  bringing 
them  ever  nearer  to  Europe.  Their  arduous  journeys  failed  of 
their  purpose,  but  over  their  lives  there  rests  the  halo  of  romance, 
and  in  ttieir  footsteps  followed  others  who  found  new  ways 
across  the  continent.  One  of  the  most  alluring  of  the  travelers* 
tales  was  that  of  "  Prester  John."  The  Nestorians,  an  heretical 
Christian  sect  of  the  fifth  century,  found  a  footing  in  Persia 


THE  AGE  OF  DISCOVERY  177 


and  afterwards  succeeded  in  establishing  themselves  among  the  cnup.  xx 
Tartars.    They  had  converted  a  powerful  Khan,  so  the  medi-    imo-m 
eval  story  ran,  who  had  become  a  priest.    Soon  the  fame  of  this 
priest  and  potentate  spread  all  over  Europe  under  the  name  of 
Presbyter  or  "  Prester  "  John.    It  was  said  that  he  had  broken 
the  power  of  Islam  in  central  Asia  and  that  his  Empire  extended 
into  Africa.    In  the  twelfth  century  the  papacy  made  several 
attempts  to  communicate  with  the  mythical  Prester  John  which 
resuked  only  in  the  further  extension  of  geographical  knowledge. 
The  Mongol  tide  that  was  rolling  towards  Europe  in  the  thir- 
teenth century  and  threatening  to  sweep  Islam  out  of  its  way 
attracted  the  attention  of  all  Christendcnn.    A  cotmcil  held  at 
Lyons  in  1245  sent  two  papal  emissaries  to  the  Mongol  Khan. 
One  took  the  northern  route  through  Poland  and  Russia,  while 
the  other  went  through  Asia  Minor  and  Armenia.    The  diplomat 
who  took  the  northern  way  was  John  jg  pianp  C^aipmi,  a  Fran- 
ciscan friar,  who  delivered  his  letters  to  the  Khan  and,  in  1247, 
returned  td^yons  after  a  journey  "oT  sixieen*  WfiSlhs  in  the 
heart  of  Asia.    It  is  with  his  journey  that  formal  intercourse 
between  Ae  Mongol  power  and   western  Christendom  b^an. 
Another  Franciscan  friar  who  went  on  a  diplomatic  mission  to 
Mongolia  was  William  de  Rubruquis,    He  went  with  Louis  IX 
to  the  Holy  Land  and  was  sent  by  his  master  with  letters  to  the 
Khan.     His  journey  was  one  of  tiie  most  important  ever  accom- 
plished by  a  west-European  previous  to  the  era  of  the  great 
discoveries.    Like  all  the  other  embassies  that  had  for  their  pur- 
pose the  winning  of  western  Asia  by  means  of  a  Mongol  alliance, 
the  mission  of  Rubruquis  failed  to  achieve  its  object.    But  the 
narratives  of  Carpini  and  Rubruquis  added  immensely  to  the 
geographical  knowledge  of  the  Europeans. 

From  the  Italian  Carpini  and  the  Fleming  Rubruquis  the 
western  world  learned  something  of  the  far  richer  countries  that 
lay  beyond  the  land  actually  explored  by  these  travelers,  the  Tii*F«toi 
plains  of  central  Asia.  They  learned  of  China  and  the  Indies, 
and  of  far  Cathay.  To  these  distant  lands,  the  Ultima  Thule, 
there  penetrated  three  Venetian  merchants,  Nicolo,  Maffeo  and 
Marco  Polo.  Nicolo  and  Maffeo  were  brothers.  Marco  was 
the  son  of  Nicolo.  The  two  brothers  made  a  journey  to  the  Far 
East  in  1260-69;  and  all  three  of  them  went  to  China  on  the 
second  and  more  important  journey.  Leaving  home  in  1271  they 
traversed  the  whole  length  of  Asia  by  land,  skirted  most  of  its 
soutfiem  coasts  by  sea,  and  re-appeared  at  Venice  in  1295. 
Marco  was  the  historian  of  the  travels,  and  it  is  to  his  book  that 
Europe  owes  its  first  real  survey  of  the  Asiatic  continent  as  a 


tjs 


THE  RENAISSANCE 


Baglimlnf 
of  the 
SMurchfor 
a  Wftfetr 

SOQtttO 
ttk«BMl 


whole.  The  contributions  of  the  Polos  to  geographical  knowl- 
tdgt  completely  eclipsed  those  of  all  otiier  prerious  travelers. 
They  indnded  the  first  extensive  and  reliable  account  of  the 
riches  and  the  splendors  of  Indo-China,  the  Indian  archipelago, 
and  Qiina;  and  they  included,  too,  the  first  actual  information 
about  j9f9JCL  So  picturesque  was  the  accoont,  so  attractive  the 
story,  so  marvelous  were  the  facts  disclosed,  that  thousands  read 
k  with  unabated  interest  for  generations  afterwards.  Columbus 
tdk  us  that  he  found  it  an  absorbing  narrative.  It  aroused  in 
many  a  breast  the  desire  to  follow  in  the  stq>s  of  the  men  whose 
joomeyti^  it  recounted. 

With  the  death  of  Tamerlane,  the  Tartar  omqueror,  in  1405, 
there  vanished  all  hope  of  the  establishment  of  a  government  in 
central  Asia  sufficiently  powerf  id  and  enlightened  to  maintain 
order  and  encourage  commerce;  and  all  hope  of  a  European- 
NCcM^golian  alliance  that  should  drive  back  the  forces  of  Islam. 
AU  tfie  attempts  of  Europe  to  continue  and  extend  commerdal 
relations  with  the  Far  East  by  the  overland  routes  ended  in  de- 
feat   But  the  journeys  of  her  missionaries,   diplomats   and 
traders  were  by  no  means  fruitless.    They  had  given  her  a 
more  definite  knowledge  of  the  lands  to  which  she  would  win 
her  way,  a  fuller  realization  of  the  enormous  value  of  free  and 
easy  access  to  the  wealth  that  in  part  now  lay  revealed,  and  a 
more  accurate  understanding  of  the  encircling  ocean  that  washed 
the  shores  of  every  continent,  of  the  possibilities  of  a  maritime 
route  from  the  west  to  the  east    They  had  also  added  to  the 
legends  of  the  fabled  Christian  principalities  that  continued  to 
exist  beyond  the  Islamic  barrier  in  Asia  and  in  Africa,  and  thus, 
in  the  subsequent  attempts  that  were  made  by  the  western  Chris- 
tians to  find  their  isolated  religious  allies  in  the  east  and  south 
and  to  unite  with  them  in  the  attempt  to  restore  to  Christendom 
the  holy  places  of  their  relipon,  they  furnished  another  incentive 
to  discovery.    These  various  motives,  separately  and  in  combi- 
nation, sent  the  men  of  Latin  Christendom  exploring  the  water- 
ways that  at  last  brought  them  to  the  land  of  their  hearts'  desire. 
We  see,  then,  that  the  door  which  the  Crusades  had  opened 
to  western  enterprise  was  closed  almost  at  once.    On  the  long 
lines  of  communication  between  Italy  and  India  there  was  en- 
camped in  the  plains  of  central  Asia  a  horde  of  armed  nomads 
and  between  these  nomadic  tribes  and  the  Mediterranean  were 
the  hostile  forces  of  Islam,  and  from  neither  of  them  could  be 
expected  encouragement  or  even  permission  of  inter-continental 
commerce  carried  on  by  Europeans.    The  Mediterrane<to  Sea 
had  therefore  become  a  cul  de  jot.    Yet  the  teeming  milH.or*s  of 


\ 


THE  AGE  OF  DISCOVERY  179 


Europe  seemed  never  more  restless.    That  fabulous  world  of  ohap.  xx 
the  Orient  they  must  needs  reach.    It  was  more  than  another    ww 
century  before  they  actually  did  reach  the  Far  East,  but  mean- 
while they  dreamed  of  it,  filled  it  with  all  manner  of  charms  and 
riches,  and  built  there  now  an  El  Dorado  and  now  an  Utopia. 
Careers  opened  out  to  every  adventurous  soul.    To  men  at  the 
bottom  of  society  there  was  swtmg  wide  a  door  of  hope  sealed 
heretofore  save  to  the  wealthy  and  the  fortunate.    The  Genoese 
were  the  first  of  the  modem  seamen  to  try  their  fortunes  as  dis- 
coverers in  the  Atlantic.    It  was  they  who  invented  the  carradgp 
the  first  vessel  capable  of  making  a  long  voyage  of  several  months 
far  out  at  sea.    In  these  new  vessels  they  explored  the  western 
coast  of  Africa.    We  do  not  know  a  great  deal  of  the  discoveries 
of  these  Genoese  seamen.    It  seems  reasonably  probable  that  as 
early  as  1275  one  of  their  fleets  rediscovered  the  Canaries,  which, 
slightly  known  by  the  Phoenicians,  Greeks  and  Romans,  had  al- 
most if  not  completely  disappeared  from  the  knowledge  of  the 
medieval  world.    If  this  first  voyage  actually  took  place  its 
purpose  has  been  forgotten.    Another  expedition  in  1291  that 
reached  the  Canaries  had  for  its  definite  aim  the  endeavor  to 
open  up  commercial  relations  with  India  by  a  maritime  way.    It 
was  the  first  distinct  attempt  to  solve  the  great  problem  that  was 
to  perplex  Europe  for  the  next  two  hundred  years.    It  seems 
quite  likely  that  it  was  Italian  seamen  who  before  1351  added 
the  Madeira  Islands  and  the  eastern  members  of  the  Azorean 
group  to  the  knowledge  of  Europeans.    About  1345  the  remain- 
der of  the  Azores,  with  the  exception  of  the  Formigas,  were 
discovered.    Thus  European  exploration  had  got  halfway  to 
America. 

Portug^  continued  the  work  of  discovery.    Under  John  I 
(13^5^1433)  ^  policy  of  expansion  beyond  the  sea  was  adopted. 
The  occupation  of  Ceuta  in  1415,  the  first  of  the  over-sea  con- 
quests, greatly  aided  the  Portuguese  in  gaining  a  command  of 
the  Atlantic.    The  greatest  name  in  the  early  period  of  African   n*  Baiiy 
exploration  is  that  of  Prince  Henry,  a  younger  son  of  John.  Jjj*- 
Under  his  direction  Portuguese  fleets  sailed  ever  farther  to  the  SAiiora 
south  searching  for  the  end  of  the  continent  where  it  would  be 
possible  to  turn  the  flank  of  the  Mohammedan  power.    He  took 
up  the  work  in  a  time  of  depression  when  western  Europe  was 
inactive  because  of  failure  and  exhaustion.    He  had  convictions 
of  his  own  and  the  courage  of  them.    He  consecrated  a  long  and 
noble  life  to  the  work  of  circumnavigating  Africa.    It  is  with 
him  that  the  new  nations  began  to  take  part  in  that  over-sea 
acttvity,  those  commercial,  colonial  and  missionary  enterprises. 


i8o 


THE  RENAISSANCE 


lSS6.Ut7 


Port«- 
Sallorf 


which  hitherto  had  been  carried  on  only  by  volunteer  adventurers 
or  the  city  republics  of  Venice  and  Genoa.  Under  his  impulse 
the  flag  of  Portugal  was  carried  ever  farther  and  farther  south- 
wards until  in  1445  ^^  coast  of  Guinea  was  reached.  His  last 
years  were  devoted  to  the  discovery  of  the  remaining  members 
of  the  Azorean  archipelago  and  to  the  colonization  of  its  princi- 
pal islands.  He  carried  on  his  work  in  the  reigns  of  his  father, 
John  I,  his  elder  brother  Edward,  and  his  nephew,  Alfonso  V, 
the  son  of  Edward.  Negro  slaves  were  purchased  in  Africa  and 
sold  in  all  parts  of  Portugal,  and  gold  and  ivory  were  brought 
home ;  but  Prince  Henry  was  essentially  a  crusader.  He  died  in 
1460.  Under  Alfonso  V,  named  the  ''  African/'  exploration  was 
continued.  In  1482^  after  the  entire  coast  of  Guinea  had  been 
surveyed,  the  mouth  of  the  Congo  was  discovered.  Gradually  a 
vast  continent  extending  far  below  the  equator  was  revealed. 
Finally  in  i486  Bartolomeo  Diaz  (1445?-!  500)  roumkiLthe 
Cape  of  Good  Hope  and  reached  Algoa  Bay.  The  long  voyage 
was  llie^tfio^  remarkable  one,  unless  we  accept  as  true  that  of 
Leif  Ericson,  that  had  yet  been  made.  The  announcement  that 
at  last  Africa  had  been  rounded  arrested  the  attention  of  Europe 
and  was  an  incentive  to  further  exploration.  The  maritime  route 
to  India  was  at  last  demonstrated. 

It  was  Vasco  da  Gama  (1469?-!  524),  perhaps  the  greatest 
sailor  the  world  has  known,  who  succeeded  in  throwing  wide 
open  the  sea-gates  to  the  East.  He  was  a  true  type  of  the  age 
of  maritime  adventurer,  a  man  of  iron  will,  inexorable  temper, 
patient,  dauntless,  and  unswerving  in  his  aim.  In  1497  he  sailed 
round  the  Cape,  crossed  the  Indian  Ocean,  and,  in  the  following 
year,  ten  months  and  twelve  days  after  leaving  Lisbon,  reached 
Calicut  on  the  west  coast  of  India.  The  town  was  a  great  center 
of  Oriental  trade.  To  it  each  year  there  came  from  the  various 
Chinese  ports  a  large  trading  fleet,  while  other  ships  brought  to 
it  the  products  of  Indo-China  and  the  spice  islands.  From  it 
Mohammedan  merchants  carried  their  wares  up  the  Red  Sea  and 
on  to  Alexandria,  and  up  the  Persian  Gulf  and  overland  to 
Europe.  There  were  tolls  and  tariffs  to  pay  on  these  routes  that 
increased  the  cost  of  the  merchandise  to  Europe  four-fold.  So 
an  enormous  profit  was  waiting  for  the  merchants  who  could 
avoid  these  exactions  by  carrying  the  products  of  the  East  all 
the  way  by  water  to  Europe.  Vasco  da  Gama  was  something 
of  a  crusader.  On  his  first  voyage  he  had  sunk  Mohammedan 
dhows  with  gusto.  But  there  were  many  of  them  left,  and  their 
masters  disliked  to  see  so  profitable  a  trade  as  that  between  the 
East  and  Europe  slip  out  of  their  hands.    The  Moslem  sailors 


THE  AGE  OF  DISCOVERY  i8i 

wtTt  therefore  hostile  to  the  Christian  seamen.     So  in  1500  when  ^^^^^'  g 
Pedro  Alvarez  Cabral  sailed  in  charge  of  another  expedition  to  i407-i584 
India  his  ships  were  equipped  with  artillery.    On  his  way  he 
lost  sight  of  one  of  his  vessels  and  while  looking  for  it  acciden- 
tally discovered  the  Brazilian  coast.    Portuguese  fleets  followed 
each  other  in  quick  succession  and  the  founding  of  an  empire 
over  the  seas  was  begun.    Goa  was  chosen  as  the  capital  of  the 
new  dominion.    The  town  was  captured  in  1510  by  Alfonso  de 
Albuquerque  (I4S3?-I5I5),  who  then  continued  the  work  of 
conquest.    He  captured  the  seaport  of  Malacca,  the  most  westerly 
emporium  of  the  Far-Eastern  trade,  cleared  the  Indian  Ocean 
almost  completely  of  Mohammedan  vessels,  seized  the  port  of 
Ormuz  near  the  entrance  to  the  Persian  Gulf,  and  was  making 
preparations  for  an  attack  upon  Aden  when  news  came  from 
Portugal  of  his  removal,  instigated  by  personal  enemies  at  the 
court,  from  the  position  he  held  as  commander  of  the  Portuguese 
forces.     Shortly  afterwards  he  died.    Albuquerque  was  equally 
great  as  a  naval  commander  and  as  an  administrator  of  empire. 
He  dreamed  of  far-reaching  conquest,  and  his  dreams  were  al- 
ways based  upon  a  mastery  of  detail.    Each  one  of  his  naval 
attacks  was  directed  to  a  definite  and  essential  strategical  ad- 
vantage.    In  the  six  crowded  years  that  he  spent  in  the  East  he 
acquired  for  Portugal  possessions  of  extraordinary  value  and 
laid  down  wise  rules  for  commercial  development.    He  had  a 
rare  power  of  dealing  sympathetically  with  the  strange  peoples 
and  the  strange  faiths  he  met  in  India.     In  him  the  Portuguese 
character  rose  to  its  greatest  height  and  when  he  died  the  power 
of  his  country  hegsin  gradually  to  decline. 

While  the  Portuguese  were  making  their  way  down  the  western 
coast  of  Africa  it  occurred  to  other  seamen  that  there  was  prob- 
ably a  shorter  and  a  less  dangerous  way  across  the  seas  to  India. 
This  was  the  thought  of  Christopher  Columbus  (i446?-iso6), 
who  succeeded  in  discovering  the  West  Indies.  Columbus  was 
probably  bom  in  Genoa.  He  had  been  in  the  service  of  Prince  timSpui. 
Henry.  He  knew  the  Mediterranean  by  heart,  had  been  to  the  ^^  "•"**' 
Gold  Coast,  and  had  gone  to  England  and  perhaps  to  Iceland. 
It  is  said  to  have  been  a  letter  from  Paolo  Toscanelli,  an  old 
astronomer  and  mapmaker  of  Florence,  that,  about  1474,  con- 
firmed him  in  his  belief  that  the  shortest  way  to  the  Indies  lay 
over  the  Atlantic  For  eighteen  years  he  endeavored  in  vain  to 
persuade  first  one  monarch  and  then  another,  the  magistrates 
of  Genoa  and  the  signoria  of  Venice,  to  equip  him  with  the  ships 
and  men  necessary  for  the  discovery  of  the  western  way  to  the 
Orient    But  the  years  of  delay  were  full  of  experience,  for  it 


I&2  THE  RENAISSANCE 

^'^iJP.  2Z  ^as  in  the  interval  of  waiting  that  he  went  as  far  south  as  the 
U98-i69a  Gold  Coast  and  at  least  as  far  north  as  England.  At  last,  on 
August  3,  1492,  a  little  fleet  of  three  caravels,  the  Santa  Maria, 
the  Pinta,  and  the  Nina,  set  sail  from  Palos  for  Japan.  It  was 
manned  by  a  motley  and  ill-favored  crew  made  up  largely  of  the 
sctmi  of  the  Mediterranean  ports.  In  spite  of  the  murmurs,  the 
curses  and  the  groans  of  these  men,  whose  hearts  were  filled  with 
fear  of  the  Green  Sea  of  Gloom,  Coltmibus  continued  his  way. 
At  last  at  two  o'clock  on  the  morning  of  October  12,  a  sailor 
on  board  the  Pinta  sighted  land  about  six  miles  away,  a  coral 
strand  glittering  white  in  the  moonlight.  It  was  one  of  the 
Bahama  Islands,  probably  San  Salvador.  Across  the  wintry 
ocean  the  Nina,  a  little  half-decked  boat,  crept  back  through  a 
violent  storm  to  take  the  news  to  Spain.  But  the  first  tidixigs 
that  Coltunbus  took  back  with  him  apparently  created  little  ex- 
citement in  the  Spanish  peninsula  and  still  less  throughout  Eu- 
rope. The  men  who  took  part  in  the  next  voyages  that  were 
made  across  the  Atlantic  in  the  next  decade  were  all  personal  ac- 
quaintances of  Columbus.  The  momentous  journey  did  not  im- 
mediately inspire  a  wide  circle  of  followers.  In  1493  Columbus 
made  a  second  voyage  in  which  he  discovered  Jamaica,  a  third 
in  1498  in  which  he  went  to  the  mouths  of  the  Orinoco,  and  a 
final  one  in  1502  in  which  he  penetrated  into  the  Caribbean  Sea. 
His  joumeyings  were  now  ended.  No  dreams  had  come  true 
of  cargoes  of  gold  and  silver  and  pearls  with  which  armies  were 
to  be  raised  to  drive  the  Turk  from  Europe  and  set  free  the  Holy 
Sepulcher.  Aged  by  hardships  and  broken  by  cruel  neglect  and 
poignant  disappointment  the  daring  sailor  died  in  1506  at  Val« 
ladolid.  Two  decades  after  the  death  of  Columbus  the  barrier 
of  the  new  continent  was  rounded  and  the  world  was  circum- 
navigated for  the  first  time.  The  voyage  of  Ferdinand  Magellan 
(1480?-!  521)  whose  expedition  left  Spain  in  1519  and  returned 
to  that  country  in  1522  is  one  of  the  greatest  ever  recorded.  In 
comparison  with  his  long  journey  of  fourteen  thousand  leagues 
the  voyage  of  Gdumbus,  despite  its  far  greater  popular  fame, 
seems  to  dwindle  almost  to  a  brief  pleasure  trip.  Magellan  did 
not  live  to  complete  the  great  journey  himself,  but  was  killed  in 
the  Philippine  Islands.  Columbus  discovered  a  new  earth;  half 
a  century  later  Copernicus  was  to  reveal  a  new  heaven.  Truly 
the  horizons  of  men  were  expanding.  But  to  the  day  of  his 
death  the  Italian  sailor  was  unaware  that  he  had  planted  the  Cas- 
tilian  banner  on  a  new  continent  and  thought  that  he  had  reached 
the  shores  of  the  mythical  and  opulent  empire  of  far  Cathay. 
"''The  great  discoveries  had  important  commercial  results.    The 


THE  AGE  OF  DISCOVERY  183 

caravan  gave  place  to  the  caravel.  (The  center  of  commerciah  og^^«  pc 
gravity  was  shifted  from  the  Mediterranean  to  the  Atlantic  J  isoo-issa 
Venice  and  Genoa  lost  most  of  their  remaining  trade  and  newl 
ports  on  the  shores  of  the  Atlantic,  Lisbon  and  Antwerp,  that 
formerly  were  mere  outposts  of  trade  became  the  great  places 
of  conomercial  activity.    The  English  Channel,  the  North  Sea 
and  the  Baltic  Sea  wrested  from  the  Mediterranean  its  former 
proud  position.    Intercourse  with  the  Orient  and  with  the  new 
continent  of  America  became  comparatively  easy  and  cheap.    So 
commerce  not  only  changed  its  direction  and  passed  from  the  g^^^^ 
hands  of  the  Latins  into  those  of  the  Teutons  but  also  vastly  thmpu- 
increased  in  quantity.    This  increase  of  commerce  resulted  in  the  ******•• 
formation  of  great  commercial  companies  whose  purposes  were 
to  reduce  the  cost  of  buying  and  transportation  and  then  to  con- 
trol the  selling  of  their  goods  and  wares.    These  combinations 
became  monopolies.    Then  prices  increased  and  in  some  cases 
doubled.    But  it  was  not  only  the  formation  of  monopolies  that 
had  brought  about  the  rise  of  prices.    Wars  and  the  increase  of 
the  precious  metals  from  the  German  and  Hungarian  mines  and, 
later  on,  from  those  of  America,  had  much  to  do  with  it.    Yet 
the  economic  changes  wrought  by  the  geographical  discoveries 
were  developed  only  imperfectly  in  the  fifteenth  century  and  by 
no  means  to  the  fuU  in  the  century  of  religious  revolution. 

The  social  results  of  the  discoveries  were,  eventually,  even 
more  important.    They  did  much  to  make  men  look  forward 
to  new  ages  as  well  as  into  new  lands  and  displaced  the  engross- 
ing devotion  to  antiquity.    Sir  Thomas  More  was  inspired  by  the  socuas*- 
discovery  of  America  to  write  his  Utopia.    It  is  scarcely  possible  ^^Sl 
for  us  to-day  to  realize  the  powerful  effect  upon  the  imagination 
of  the  men  of  the  sixteenth  century  which  the  sudden  discovery 
of  a  new  continent  must  have  had.    Imagination  always  out- 
strips man's  knowledge  and  understanding;  his  emotions  always 
carry  him  far  beyond  the  narrow  reach  of  his  intelligence.    What 
things  were  not  possible  in  that  new-won  world?    Did  not  one 
adventurer  go  there  to  seek  even  for  the  fountain  of  perpetual 
youth?    The  finding  of  America  did  much  to  widen  the  intel- 
lectual as  well  as  the  physical  horizon.    It  gave  breadth  of  inter- 
est and  far-reaching  vision  to  Montaigne,  and  from  him  these 
things  passed  to  his  spiritual  heirs  among  whom  was  Shakespeare. 
The  discoveries,  as  we  have  seen,  did  much  to  accelerate  the  ri 
of  capitalism,  to  interest  man  in  commerce  and  industry  far  more, 
than  he  had  been  in  the  Middle  Ages  when  ag^culture  was  almos 
his  sole  concern,  and  it  did  much  to  cause  the  development  o 
city  life.    The  rise  of  capitalism  and  of  city  life  caused  a  vas 


i84 


THE  RENAISSANCE 


GBAB.TX 
1800-1688 


FoUtteftl 
Hmilti  flf 

tlM  Dia- 

COTtflM 


Soiiiltf  of 
the  IM»- 
eoTerlM 


social  dislocation.  Men  engaged  in  new  lines  of  activity,  nar 
forms  of  political  organization  found  favor,  and  new  sodal  as 
well  as  economic  values  came  to  the  surface. 

The  discoveries  were  fraught  with  important  pditical  results. 
Portugal  acquired  one  empire  in  the  East  and  Spain  another  in 
the  West.  The  medieval  empire  became  more  obsolete  than  ever. 
It  was  the  new  nations  that  inherited  the  distant  lands  that  had 
recently  swtun  into  the  ken  of  men.  From  the  cotmtries  she 
conquered,  Spain  took  more  than  five  thousand  million  dollars' 
worth  of  gold  and  silver.  But  she  did  not  use  this  enormous 
treasure  wisely.  A  great  part  of  it  was  employed  in  the  effort 
to  extinguish  heresy  and  to  repress  thought.  Most  of  it  filtered 
through  Spain  like  a  sieve,  leaving  that  cotmtry  worse  than  it 
had  been  before,  and  changing  the  purchasing  power  of  money 
throughout  Europe.  The  piratical  expeditions  of  Spain  to  Amer- 
ica followed  closely  upon  the  conclusion  of  the  long  wars  against 
the  Moors.  Most  of  the  men  engaged  in  these  prolonged  mili- 
tary enterprises  came  to  have  nothing  but  contempt  for  the  ordi- 
nary occupations  of  life.  When  the  wars  were  over  they  lived 
as  parasites  upon  society.  Their  long  continued  military  activity 
eventually  exhausted  Spain  and  Portugal.  Holland  and  France 
and  England  became  the  great  colonial  powers  and  reaped  the 
advantages  of  discovery.  Eventually  out  of  geographical  expan- 
sion there  arose  democracy,  or  at  least  a  greater  approximation 
to  democracy. 

Finally  the  geographical  discoveries  helped  to  inaugurate  great 
religious  changes.  All  through  the  Middle  Ages,  upon  the  sure 
basis  of  the  Bible,  the  only  terra  finna,  the  only  habitable  part 
of  the  earth,  was  the  top  side  of  the  globe  with  Jerusalem  as  its 
center;  so,  virtually,  the  earth  was  a  disk  floating  in  the  atmos- 
phere, surrounded  by  circling  sun,  moon,  and  stars.  Suddenly 
the  whole  medieval  conception  of  the  cosmos  was  shattered  by 
the  discovery  of  new  lands  on  the  other,  the  under,  side  of  the 
world  that  were  the  homes  of  strange  peoples.  Man  came  at 
last  to  know  by  actual  experience  the  earth  beneath  his  feet, 
something  of  the  habitable  lands  on  the  other  side  of  the  globe, 
something  of  the  dimensions  of  our  planet,  and  something  of  its 
relative  position  in  our  solar  system  and  in  the  universe.  The 
earth  was  no  longer  habitable  only  on  one  side,  it  was  no  longer 
stationary,  it  was  no  longer  the  center  of  things ;  and  man,  the 
most  important  of  its  inhabitants,  was  therefore  no  longer  the 
cynosure  of  all  the  myriad  eyes  of  the  heavens.  Instead,  it 
dwindled  to  the  **  least  of  little  stars."  It  was  merely  a  sphere 
revolving  in  its  appointed  orbit  about  our  sun  as  do  the  other 


THE  AGE  OF  DISCOVERY  185 

pbnds  of  tiie  same  solar  system.  The  disillusiomnent  was  a  OBiUP^ 
salutaxy  one.  Slowly,  very  slowly,  for  all  such  changes  are  ex-  itoo-ms 
ceedipgly  gradual,  the  old  narrow  conception  of  the  universe 
together  with  beliefs  for  which  it  served  as  a  basis  hegam  to  lose 
their  grip  and  to  give  way  to  faiths  with  a  wider  scale  that 
permit  more  freely  the  development  of  man's  spiritual  nature  in 
many  different  ways.  In  a  less  direct  way,  too,  the  discoveries 
had  an  important  religious  result.  The  increase  of  urban  popu- 
lation and  the  development  of  city  life  gave  rise  to  a  secular 
calttire  which  although  it  did  not  displace  the  once  absolute 
dominion  of  the  ecclesiastical  culture  at  least  disputed  it  and 
loosened  it  at  many  points. 


THE  PROTESTANT  REVOLUTION 


THE  PROTESTANT  REVOLUTION 


CHAPTER  X 


POLITICAL  AFFAIRS  AT  THE  OPENING  OF  THE  PROTESTANT  REVO- 
LUTION 

1.  Louis  of  France  and  Charles  of  Burgundy. 

2.  Maximilian  of  Austria  and  the  Burgundian  Heritage. 

3.  The  Building  of  Spain. 

4.  The  Papacy  as  an  Italian  Power. 

5.  Charles  VlII  and  the  French  Invasion  of  Italy. 

Louis  Xn  and  Italy. 
The  League  of  Cambray 
The  Holy  League 
The  Imperial  Election. 

JN  our  study  of  the  political  affairs  of  Europe  during  the  era  of  0^^^ 
the  Renaissance  we  left  France  with  all  her  territory  recovered    i46i-88 
except  Calais.    The  task  that  now  confronted  her  was  that  of 
''0n'inl*^'^^'"0  ^^^  ^"P'^^TTj   and  of  centralizing  power  in  the  oomoiUd*. 
hands  of  the  king,  a  task  skilfully  pursued  by  the  crafty Jjauia.  ^^Jj 
JiLJjj6i^3)f  who  found  himself  greatly  aided  by  the  estab-  inttonin 
lishment  of  a  permanent  f^^^^n?""y  ff"^  ^  D^"^nnfnt  ipmaf 
tax  for  its  support  that  nad  been  effected  in  1439  by  his  predeces- 
sor.   The  **  League  of  the  Public  Good,"  an  effort,  under  a  mis- 
leading name,  on  the  part  of  the  great  feudal  nobles  and  the 
princes  of  the  blood  to  check  the  policy  of  centralization,  failed 
to  accomplish  its  purpose.    Theintri^es  of  Lq^^s^  against  his 

Bu^undy  .eyenty^llyj:?sultedj^ 

of  that  countiy^^  Hurgun^y  was  a  complex  collection  of  princi- 
palitiesluiilteil -tmly  by  virtue  of  the  fact  that  they  were  ruled 
by  the  same  prince.  Parts  of  it  were  held  by  its  duke  as  fiefs 
of  France  and  the  other  parts  were  held  as  fiefs  of  the  Empire. 
Under  Duke  Philip  the  Good  (1419-67)  these  loosely  related 
territories  had  been  greatly  increased  and  the  dukedom  had  be- 
come more  than  ever  a  thorn  in  the  side  of  France.  To  his 
son  Charles  the  Bold  (1467-77)  there  was  left  the  ambition  of 
changing  the  duchy  into  a  kingdom;  but  in  a  war  with  the 
Swiss  he  met  an  untimely  death.  The  only  child  left  by 
Charles  was  his  daughter  Mary.  Louis  quickly  jejafd  a  con- 
siderable part  of  the  Burgundian  territories^  and  was  prevented 

~  i8g 


190 


THE  PROTESTANT  REVOLUTION 


OHAP.  Z 


1461-88 


DtolBU- 
grattonlB 


from  seizing  more  only  by  the  marriage  of  Mary  to  Maximilian, 
son  of  the  Emperor  Frederick  III.  \jnn\^!i  myHe  nt^]|fir  terrttn^ 
gains  including  Anjou,  Maine,  Bar.  anH  Pr^vgjyi>,  In  t^f 
Work  of  centralization,  which  he  push^  forward,  viyocouslv.  he 
receivedhjs  greatest  aid  from  the  legists  whose  stucty  of  the 
Roman  law"  TSdlTcciistomed  thiein  to  a  supreme  centirS  authority. 
FromTEis  Sody  61  Tawyers^tBe  noRfew  de  la  robe^  the  king  chose 
his  mo§L  JlllasQaJteL^cniinnl^  ;  and  ..irom  iti  at  a  later  time,  were 
to  come  the  king's  chiejL  tniniRtPra  It  was  this  bkxiy  also  that 
furnished  the  Parlemeot  of  Paris  with  its  effective  membership. 
The  Parlement  was  becoming  increasingly  powerfuL  The 
5^1  at yg-HpTipral  ^  after  its  meeting  in  1506,  did  not  assemble  again 
for  half  a  century,  and  the  provincial  parlements  had  the  right 
to  deal  only  with  provincial  affairs.  So  the  Parlement  of  Paris 
became  the  one  standing  body,  resembling  a  national  institution, 
that  shared  power  with  the  king.  It  was  primarily  a  judicial 
body,  but  it  acquired  something  of  a  legislative  character  from 
the  fact  that  it  obtained  the  right  of  requiring  the  royal  decrees  to 
be  entered  upon  its  raster  in  order  for  them  to  become  valid. 
It  is  true  that  this  right  did  not  amount  to  an  absolute  veto,  be- 
cause the  king  could  hold  a  lit  de  justice,  that  is,  he  could  be 
present  in  person  and  compel  the  registration  of  an  obnoxious 
decree.  But  the  refusal  to  register  a  decree  required  the  king 
to  notice  the  wishes  of  the  parlement,  and  was  at  least  a  sus- 
pensory veto.  In  the  lower  courts,  too,  by  replacing  feudal 
judges,  the  l^sts  made  themselves  felt  in  the  life  of  France. 

The  royal  army^  th^  f^y^l  taxation,  ^"^  ^^f  I'^Y"^  /-/^tirfc  mfl/^^ 
the  king  by  far  the  most  powerful  prir^f;^  jn  fh*^  /v^itnt ry^  in  whom 
the  people  saw  their  natural  defender,  "  a  visible  image  of  God 
upon  earth,"  and  coupled  with  the  sentiment  of  nationality  they 
made  of  France  one  of  the  most  powerful  of  the  new  nations. 
In  strong  contrast  to  the  process  of  consolidation  and  cen^ 
tralization  in  France  was  the  tendency  to  disintegration  in  the 
empire.  But  when  Maximilian  I  (T4Q3-.T(^Tf^jram<*  to  the  im- 
perial  throne  the  men  who  loved  Germany  nbped  f6r  fetter 
JhiAgS.  He  was  a  gifted  prince,  this  "last  ill  Uie  knights,'* 
whose  gracious  personality  and  versatile  powers  aroused  in  the 
hearts  of  his  subjects  expectation  of  the  fulfilment  of  the 
dreams  of  reform.  Few  were  the  events  and  movements  of  his 
time  upon  which  he  did  not  leave,  more  or  less  distinctly,  the 
impress  of  his  individuality,  but  he  lacked  pe^-fjffYfr'"'"^  '^"^  4r,^. 
sig^t;  and,  by  devoting  most  of  his  energy  to  the  extj 
the  boundaries  of  t^p  <^"^pirf]  iinfl  thyg?  pf  tin  li  in  11  f  TTiii  1 
mrg,  rather  than  to  the  work  of  consolidating  the  territories  it 


THE  OPENING  OF  THE  PROTESTANT  REVOLUTION      191 

already  possessed  and  of  remedying  their  grievances,  he  disap-   ohap^x 
pointed  those  who  had  placed  their  trust  in  him.    Throughout  his  i469-i6i6 
rcigny  despite  his  bungling  attempts  at  constitutional  reform,  and 
his  somewhat  more  successful  effort  to  lift  the  Empire  out  of  its 
military  helplessness,  all  the  particularistic  forces  continued  to 
seek  their  own  advancement  to  the  detriment  of  the  common  union* 

The  building  up  of  Spain,  it  will  be  remembered,  had  been  Tteuy* 
hastened  by  the  marriage  of  Tsal^^lU  apH  F^rHmanH  Much  had  J^2J2f 
to  be  done  at  first  to  put  their  respective  countries  in  order. 
Castile,  ravaged  by  frequent  wars  between  its  nobles  who  were 
practically  independent,  was  a  lawless  kingdom.  Aragon  was 
far  less  anarchic.  But  in  both  countries  there  was  much  to  do 
before  an  effective  central  government  could  be  said  to  exist. 
The  self-reliant  character  of  Isabella,  her  courage  and  decision, 
enabled  her  to  cope  successfully  with  the  difficulties  that  con- 
fronted her.  To  the  same  qualities  of  courage  and  steadfast 
c]etermination  as  those  which  gave  a  masculine  element  to  the 
crharacter  of  his  wife,  Ferdinand  united  foresight,  caution,  and 
^  cunning  in  diplomacy  that  enabled  him  to  circumvent  his 
x-ivals.    To  him  prnhahly  mofe  than  to  Isabella  is  due  the  restora* 

t"ion  9f  nrrj^r  in  C  !aj;t|]f .  f hi>  renrpa nidation  of  its  institutions  and 

^he  centralization  of  its  administration;  and  to  his  incessant 
activity  in  every  line  of  government  must  be  attributed  the 
foundation  of  that  absolute  monarchy  to  which  his  descendants 
succeeded.    A    vigorous    renewal   of   the   crusade   against   the 
^oors  resulted  in  1492  in  the  capture  of  Granada,  whose  capit- 
ulation was  r^«,ved  by  Gonsalvo  de  Cordova,  "El  principe  de  ^^ 
los  caballero^S^^pron  Cqpitano/' ..  Thixs- was  the"  long  and  its-  uBJc) 
perate  warfaj^^^^gpwicf  '\\\^  i"fi^^l  ended  and  the  crescent  ban-  ^^ 
ished  from  the  west.    And  when  in  151^,  eleven  years  after  the 
<ieath  of  Isabella,  that  part  of   Navarre  lying  south   of  the 
Pyrenees  was  incorporated  with  the  crown  of  Castile  the  whole 
of  the  peninsula  with  the  exception  of  Portugal,  was_uni^jun- 
der  6fle  mien    The  Spanish  conquests  beyond  the  sea,  too,  went 
on  at  an  amazing  rate.    It  was  only  the  beginning  of  this  vast 
trans-oceanic  empire  that  came  in  Ferdinand's  time ;  but  he  it  was 
who,  in  the  face  of  great  difficulties,  raised  Spain  from  feudal 
obscurity  to  the  foremost  place  among  the  new  nations.    The 
most  effective  force  in  the  work  of  centralization  was  the^Santa^ 
Hennandad.  a  general  association  which,   for  the  purpose  of 
ensuring  the  public  peace  and  protecting  private  rights,  main- 
tained a  mounted  military  police  in  every  part  of  the  kingdom 
and  made  the  royal  authority   supreme  throughout  the  land 
Italy  we  left  a  land  of  warring  communes  and  despotisms?^ 


192  THE  PROTESTANT  REVOLUTION 

^^^^^'^    We  return  to  witness  it  made  the  battle-f;round  on  which  were 
U7M608   fought  out  the  rival  claims  and  ambitions  of  France  and  Ger^ 
many.    But  to  what  may  be  regarded  as  a  new  political  power* 
in  the  peninsula  we  must  first  pay  attenticm.    More  engrossed  in. 
Tb«PB.       political  affairs  than  ever  before,  its  high  office  and  its  lofty 
JJg^**    aims  shamelessly  rel^[ated  to  the  background,  the  papacy  under 
Powtr        Sixtus^IV  (1471--84)  sank  to  the  level  of  the  contending  princi- 
palities  that  surrounded  it  by  becoming  one  of  them.    Yet  it  was 
only  after  some  years  of  experience  and  a  careful  survey  of  the 
situation  that  Sixtus  embarked  upon  his  secular  policy.    All 
about  him  were  the  rival  divisions  of  the  peninsula,  seething 
with  intrigue  and  struggling  for  ascendancy.    The  Church  had 
but  a  slight  hold  upon  the  affections  of  men.    To  rely  upon 
popular  support  seemed  unsafe.    Each  of  the  European  powers 
was  bent  upon  its  own  aggrandizement    To  depend  upon  any 
one  of  them  was  evidently  to  court  disaster.    Was  it  not  neces- 
sary, then,  Sixtus  asked  himself,  directly  to  strengthen  the  posi- 
tion of  the  papacy  in  a  worldly  way?    In  carrying  out  the  pro- 
gram which  he  adopted  of  vigorous  secular  activity   Sixtus 
needed  first  of  all  assistants  in  whom  he  could  place  the  utmost 
confidence;  so,  making  of  nepotism  a  political  principle,  he 
placed  his  relatives  in  the  most  responsible  positions.    But  his 
energy  was  spent  in  vain.    The  wars  against  Florence  and  Fer- 
rara  failed  to  carry  him  any  nearer  to  his  goal,  while  the  ag- 
grandizement of  his  family,  hji  rnmrli^ity  in  ?  g^l^<>^^  fgr  the 
aggacQJiiafjpi^  Qf  T  nr^^TTT  ?*^iii  ffl"?fiin^  ^^*  Medicir^is  unmis- 
faTrahly  wyrlHly  ^hp^^^^^**!  his  actuatiou  by  the  meanest  motives, 
and  his  failure  to  pay  anv  attention  to  the  omnipresent  comip- 
tion  of  the  _aigg,  rifhmrd  tho  Prtpni^y  ntill  ^"rthpr  in  ^^<*  ^yf^  of 
^'TTufope^    The  pontificate  of  Innocent  VIII  (1484-92)  was  but 
an  interval  of  indolent  and  aimless  drifting  in  which  the  gen- 
eral immorality  of  the  time  became  more  pronounced  than  ever. 
The  policy  of  political  activity  inaugurated  by  Sixtus  was  con- 
tinued by  Alexander  VI  (1492-1503),  a  handsome  and  sensual 
man,  who  while  still  a  cardinal  had  made  his  Catalonian  kins- 
men all-powerful  in  Rome.    The  Papacy  had  certainly  suffered 
a  great  change  since  the  days  of  Gregory  VII.    The  dramatic 
downfall    of    Boniface    VIII,    the    Avignonese    captivity,    the 
schism,  and  now  the  engrossment  of  the  papacy  in  its  secular 
/ole  of  an  Italian  principality,  were  the  chief  stages  in  its  descent. 
\The  defeat  of  the  conciliar  attempt  at  control  left  the  Papacy 
'more  absolute  than  ever  before  in  ecclesiastical  matters;  but  it 
was  not  with  religion  that  it  was  now  chiefly  concerned.     Its 
f  world-wide  financial  system  gave  it  the  appearance  of  being  a 


THE  OPENING  OF  THE  PROTESTANT  REVOLUTION   19^ 


trial  institution,  and  activity  in  diplomacy  

stamped  it  as  a  pffljtiml  pgwrr  Its  absorption  in  these  worl^Ix^*  ii88*M 
activities  prepared  the  way  for  the  religious  revolution. ;  Yet  it 
was  in  this  gloomiest  moment  in  the  history  of  the  Papacy  since 
the  evil  days  of  the  tenth  and  eleventh  centuries,  in  this  time  of 
knavery,  simony,  treason,  and  every  other  kind  of  corruption, 
that  a  final  attempt  was  made  to  reform  the  Church  from  within. 
A  prophet  arose  in  the  person  of  Savonarola.  But  first  we  must 
notice  the  French  invasion  of  Italy. 

When  Louis  XI  died  he  was  succeeded  by  his  son,  Charles 
VIIIJC1483-98),  a  lad  of  fourteen  whose  mind  was  filled  with 
the  legends  of  chivalry.  For  the  first  half  of  his  reign  his  older 
sister,  Anne  of  Beaujeu,  was  the  r^ent  of  France.  The  mar- 
riage of  the  young  king  to  Anne  of  Brittany  resulted  eventually  Tb«  rtm 
in  the  annexation  to  the  crown  of  that  last  of  the  great  feudatory  53!«  5*" 
States  of  France.  The  country  became  more  prosperous  than  XMjr 
^ver  before;  and  Charles,  after  becoming  free  from  the  restraint 
of  his  sister  Anne,  b^;an  to  look  to  the  fulfilment  of  his  dreams 
of  conquest  Spain  was  extending  its  boundaries  and  consoli- 
clating  its  power;  Maximilian  was  evidently  determined  to  con- 
vert the  theory  of  the  Empire  into  fact.  Why  should  France 
lag  behind?  Through  the  house  of  Anjou,  whose  rights  had 
descended  to  him,  Q:;^1fifi  hari  ^  ^i^^'t^  npftn  Nftpl^-*^?  w4  ^^^ 
ooiisin  am]  ]|ffp»hrriin  lawi  Tiniiii  Ptilrr  nf  Orlrnnij  hnrl  n  rlniiir 
^ixm  Milan.  So  in  i^Od,  after  making  substantial  concessions 
^it:o  luigland,  Germany,  and  Spain  in  order  to  have  a  free  hand, 
diaries  rn^o^  fht  Alp*'  with  the  purpose  of  conquering  Naples. 
The  itfvasion  was  like  the  pageant  of  a  summer  day.  On 
through  Asti  and  Piacenza  the  ill-equipped  and  motley  array 
'Vrent,  to  Florence,  Siena,  Rome,  and  Naples.  But  the  Euro- 
X^can  powers  were  not  pleased  with  this  easy  victory.  They 
Xdt  the  suddenly  acquired  preponderance  of  France  to  be  a 
^nenace  to  their  safety.    They  became  champions  of  the  idea  oi    .     qj^ 

^the  "balance  of  power.*'     A^  Venice^  t^^''?fprff>   ^r    Marrh    gr,  /U^^ 

^4Qj?»  diere  was  formed  a  league  betwefin^ermany,  Spain,  Milan,        ^, 
^^i»  rapg^<;y,  ^r\A  \Tt^\c^^  whose  real  purpose  was  to  experifiS*      i/l^ 
l^rcnch    from    Naples.    Charles    retreated   northward,   got   the       ^^ 
iDetter  of  a  clash  with  Milanese  and  Venetian  troops  at  Fomovo, 
Sn  spite  of  being  greatly  out-numbered,  and  evacuated  Italy.    All 
liis  Italian  conquests  melted  away  like  mist  in  the  summer  sun, 
smd  so  his  invasion  failed  to  effect  its  purpose.    But  it  had  an- 
other and  a  momentous  result.    It  took  its  ruffianly  soldiers  into 
the  p^nsnla.  disnlaved  to  them  the  glorv  of  Jjie,.llalian-.citicai. 

thptn  ffir  a  year  \x\  thr7n^°  ^^  ^^'^  P^^tinicconr^^^  o^^  l^^ti — 


194  THE  PROTESTANT  REVOLUTION 


sent  them  to  tell  thf  g^^t-y  /^^  »K^  n^^  riviliyatinp   %t%  »ti#>tr  nwr 

U8S-98  countrifis^  It  revealed  to  the  peoples  of  the  north  the  richness 
and  the  weakness  of  Italy.  It  pointed  the  way  to  future  in- 
vasions and  made  the  peninsula  the  arena  for  the  rivalries  oi 
the  new-bom  nations. 

Girolamo  Savonarola  (145^-^)  was  bom  at  Ferrara  when 
his  grandfather  was  an  eminent  court  physician  and  his  fathei 
a  spendthrift  courtier.  He  was  a  silent  and  sorrowful  youtl 
made  so  by  musing  upon  the  immorality  of  the  age.  When  h( 
was  twenty-three  years  of  age,  after  writing  a  farewell  letter  U 
"^  his  father  telling  him  that  "the  misery  of  the  world  and  th< 

iniquities  of  men  **  had  driven  him  to  take  the  step,  he  left  thi 
luxurious  corruption  of  Ferrara  and  fled  across  the  marsh} 
fields  to  Bologna  where  he  entered  the  Dominican  convent 
There  he  spent  the  next  seven  years  of  his  life.  Then  he  went  tc 
the  convent  of  San  Marco  in  Florence.  But  he  failed  to  impress 
the  Florentines  with  his  sermons,  so  he  became  a  wanderin{ 
preacher.  His  power  increased  and  he  was  recalled  to  Florence 
This  time  his  impetuous  eloquence  drew  great  crowds  to  heai 
him.    His  sermons  werp  alway?  prartlV"^     W*^h  ^^^ 

citming^rrlnr   that   fill^H    111^.0^111    h^   ^yinnt^^f/^    »1ip    cina    nf 

jyorld.  galled  men  to  repentance^  and  in^ynlgmn  and  prophetii 
stram  iie  spoke  of  an  impp^^in^visitationof  the  wrath  of  God 
The  vast  Duomo  was  too  small  to  hold  the  crowds  that  flocke( 
to  hear  him.  In  the  cold  and  darkness  of  the  winter  night 
people  got  up  and  waited  in  the  street  until  the  cathedral  door^ 
were  opened,  and  then  inside  they  waited  three  or  four  hour: 
more  until  they  saw  above  them  in  the  pulpit  the  gaunt  and  im 
perious  yet  benign  and  wistful  face  of  the  man  whose  pure  en 
thusiasm  and  impassioned  eloquence  held  their  hearts  in  thrall 
In  1492  Lorenzo  de'  Medici  died  and  was  succeeded  in  thi 
control  of  the  city  by  his  oldest  son  Piero  (1492-1503).  Twc 
years  later,  as  we  have  seen,  the  Frgich  invaded  Italy.    _*  Be 

Am  Ftor-    hold  the  SWOrd  has  descended,"  cried  Savonarola  fn  the  v^,^t  anr 

JJ^^^   pamc-sinckencrowd  that  huny  upon  his  words^  '*^e  scourge  ha« 

who  is  leading  on  t^f  <^^  i^rrw;AQ  "  Piero  surrendered  the  Floren- 
tine  fortresses  and  made  a  complete  submission  to  the  invader 
The  indignant  citizens  compelled  him  and  his  two  brothers  tc 
seek  safety  in  flight;  and  thus,  after  sixty  years,  Florence  hac 
regained  her  liberty.  Savonarola  then  became  an  important 
political  factor  and  disclosed  an  unguessed  statesmanship.  A 
plan  of  government,  to  a  large  extent  his  own  creation,  that  re- 
sembled somewhat  the  Venetian  oligarchy,  and  that  won  the 


THE  OPENING  OF  THE  PROTESTANT  REVOLUTION      195 


OSAP. 


warm  admiration  of  the  historian  Guicciardini,  was  adopted. 
But  in  its  actual  workings  the  new  regime  was  a  theocracy. 
For  a  time  Florence  forsook  her  gay  dances  and  all  her  pagan 
pageantry.  The  streets  that  once  had  echoed  to  the  ribald  songs 
of  Lorenzo  and  his  dissolute  companions  were  strangely  silent 
or  were  filled  with  religious  processions.  But  the  passage  of 
Savonarola  from  preaching  to  politics  was  a  perilous  step.  It 
was  not  for  long  that  the  Florentines  were  willing  to  submit  to 
such  strict  regulations.  Puritanism  found  an  uncongenial  soil 
in  a  city  where  for  so  long  paganism  had  prevailed.  The  innate 
character  of  the  people  could  not  be  so  readily  and  radically 
changed.  Thealien  character  of  the  r^rn^,  ^^^  ^^ynHpts:  of 
Savonarola,  TRT old  jealousies  of  Dominican^  ^nrl  FrnnririttMi-i, 
and  the  meraaicable  hatreds  of  the  ^a^'t^nns.  hrnngrVit  ahnnt  an 
ulevitiiible  recoil.  Alexander  VI  could  not  brook  the  opposition 
at  The  iriar  to  the  league  against  France,  so  in  1497  he  excom- 
municated him.  And  when  it  was  discovered  that  Savonarola 
was  endeavoring  to  bring  about  the  summoning  of  a  general 
council  to  inquire  into  the  conduct  of  the  pope  his  death  was 
determined.  Alexander  threatened  to  place  Florence  under  an 
interdict,  and  the  Florentines  feared  the  consequent  loss  of  trade. 
Over  the  details  of  Savonarola's  downfall  we  may  pass  briefly  — 
the  miserable  fiasco  of  the  ordeal  by  fire  which  was  none  of  his 
seeking,  and  which  his  supporters  were  ready  to  meet ;  the  awful 
scenes  in  the  torture  chamber  where  for  a  moment  his  strong  soul 
quailed  and  he  was  compelled  to  utter  an  agonized  denial  of  his 
divine  mission;  his  last  mass  in  the  chapel  of  the  Priors;  and 
the  last  scene  of  all  in  which  his  body  perished  in  the  flames. 
Savonarola  was  a  precursor  not  of  the  Protestant  Revolution  but 
of  the  Catholic  Reformation.  Those  kind  blue  eyes  of  his  looked 
not  so  much  into  the  future  as  into  the  past.  It  waf^  ^^°  ^^fam 
world  back  to  an  earlier  aye  in  which  tfie  ideak-Pf 


When  ^ifV"«^'l  (iiiQ8-it;iO  of  Orleans  succeeded  to  the 
French  throne  there  were  united  in  his  person  the  French  claims 
upon  Naples  and  Milan.    Immediately  he  b^;an  preparations  for 
a  second   invasion   of   Italy.    The  league   formed   at   Venice  5IJl^^ 
against  France  had  little  force.    Its  Italian  members  weiBTuspi-  in^mtiai 

er,  and  little  reliance  could  be  placed  upon  •'**^ 
Maximilian.    The  pope  desired  a  powerful  ally ;  and  Venice,  be- 
cause of  her  plans  of  territorial  expansion,  wished  for  the  down- 
fall of  Milan.    So  the  Venetian  league  dissolved;  the  foreigner 

was  conoiiered.^  Then  Louis  turned  his  attention  to  the  south. 


196  THE  PROTESTANT  REVOLUTION 


>    In  1500  a  secret  treaty  was  concluded  at  Granada  for  a  combined 

1498-1009  conquest  of  Naples  by  France  and  Aragon  and  a  division  of  the 
territory.  This  agreement  was  confirmed  by  the  p(^.  All  tiie 
interests  of  Alexander  VI,  who  occupied  the  papal  chair,  were 
selfish  and  secular.  ''  The  whole  thought  of  the  pope,"  said  a 
Venetian  ambassador  of  the  time, ''  is  to  make  his  children  great. 
He  cares  about  nothing  dse."  With  every  means  at  his  com- 
mand he  endeavored  to  advance  the  interests  of  his  family.  He 
was  led  to  put  his  children  into  important  places  by  his  passion- 
ate devotion  to  them,  by  the  fact  that  he  could  trust  no  one 
dse,  and  also  because  they  were  extremely  useful  as  pawns  in 
the  political  game  he  was  playing.  He  raised  his  nephew  Juan 
Borgia  to  the  cardinalate.  He  married  one  of  his  daughters,  the 
radiantly  beautiful  Lucrezia,  in  turn  to  three  important  princes. 
His  third  son,  the  handsome  and  iron-willed  Cesare,  whom  he 
chose  for  an  ecclesiastical  car^r,  was  made  bishop,  archbishop, 
and  cardinal,  and  given  an  enormous  number  of  benefices,  be- 
fore he  was  nineteen  years  old.  But  Cesare  was  interested  in 
secular  affairs,  and,  using  every  means  that  came  to  his  hand, 
conquest,  treachery,  simony,  and  extortion,  he  made  his  father 
the  first  pontiff  who  actually  ruled  the  unruly  papal  State. 
Alexander  died  in  1503,  probably  from  having  contracted  the 
fever  of  the  Campagna.  The  full  responsibility  for  having  in- 
vited the  second  French  invasion  cannot  be  laid  upon  him,  but 
with  him  must  rest  a  large  share  of  the  blame.  He  did  not  in- 
augurate the  secularization  of  the  Papacy,  but  he  did  much  to 
d^frade  it  still  further  to  the  level  of  the  surrounding  and 
self-seeking  Italian  principalities.  The  conquest  of  Naples  yas 
accomp^i'yhrrl  withmit  gfiriutig  diffiailtir,  -  But  the  provisions  of 
the  treaty  of  Granada  were  by  no  means  precise,  and  a  war 
broke  out  over  the  spoils  in  which  the  Spanish  troops  were  vic- 
torious. The  matter  ended  by  the  agreement  of  Louis  to  give 
his  Neapolitan  claim  as  a  dowry  to  his  sister's  daughter,  Ger- 
maine  of  Foix,  whom  Ferdinand,  in  1506,  Isabella  having  died 
two  years  previously,  took  for  his  second  wife.  Thus  did 
Naples  fall  into  the  pngspj^sipr^  of  ^pain^ 
^  No  such  nuptial  agreement,  however,  was  destined  to  ensure 
peace  to  the  unhappy  peninsula.  It  put  an  end  to  the  war  in 
the  south  only  to  permit  another  to  break  out  in  the  north. 
Venice  had  reached  the  height  of  its  power  and  splendor.  It 
is  true  that  the  Turks  had  robbed  her  of  some  of  her  possessions 
in  the  east  and  that  the  discovery  of  the  route  to  India  by  the 
Cape  of  Good  Hope  twenty-two  years  before  had  shifted  west- 
ward the  center  of  commerce  and  left  her  to  pursue  a  career 


THE  OPENING  OF  THE  PROTESTANT  REVOLUTION      ig 

of  contmuotis  decline  that  lasted  for  three  hundred  years.    But   ^^s^^^ 
this  loss  of  economic  importance  was  not  yet  apparent.    She    isos-ii 
ranked  as  one  of  the  great  powers  of  Europe.    Her  foes  looked 
with  greedy  eyes  upon  her  possessions  and  coveted  them  for 
themselves.    Chief  of  those  who  plotted  for  the  division  of  the  Tb« 
maritime  republic  was  the  martial  J^i^i^;p  -IT   (1503-13),  who,  SmSSiJ 
after  the  brief  pontificate  of  Pius  III  that  lasted  less  than  a 
month,  succeeded  the  infamous  Alexander,  and  who  was  deter- 
mined to  make  the  papal  State  the  strongest  political  power  in 
Italy.    The  others  were  Maximilian  of  Germanv.  Fer^inP"^  ^^ 
^Railli  ^^nii  nf  Fmnrr,  flu)  rtpnMir  nf  TTInrrnrr^  thr  fhilrr  nf 
Ferrara.  and  the  margnig  nf  Manfna     A  league  was  signed  be- 
tween some  of  the  conspirators  in  ^508  in  the  little  Flemish  towi^ 
of  Camttiay».and  by  the  others  later,  for  the  partition  of  the 
MtST'Serene  Republic.    Venice   was   defeated.    All   the  pos- 
sessk>ns  she  had  acquired  in  the  fifteenth  jcentufy  "^^^^  Y^^ 
Ami  peflUllMf  she  W61ild  have  tared  even  worse  had  not  her  foes 
fallen  to  quarreling  among  themselves.  <— 

The  warl&e  Julius  now  desired  to  expel  the  French  from 
Italy.  Possessed  of  Milan,  they  were  too  powerful  and  too  dan- 
gerous a  force  in  the  peninsula.  So  in  151 1  he  induf.Pf^  5^pain  The 
and  Venice  to  sign  thf  HHy  T  niynr  with  him  to  effect  that  end. 
A  month  later  the  compact  received  the  adherence  of  Henry 
VIII  of  England  who  had  plans  of  his  own  for  the  division  of 
France.  IilJcss.  than  a  year  the  French  were  driven  back  across 
the  Alps^^And  i'Wdinand  proceeaea  to  me  conquest  tor  him- 
self of  that  part  of  Navarre  that  lay  south  of  the  Pyrenees. 
The  confederates  then  restored  the  Medici  to  Florence,  which 
had  favored  the  French,  and  the  Sforza  to  Milan.  On  the 
death  of  the  pontefice  terribile,  Leo  X  (15 13-21),  second  son 
of  Lorenzo  de'  Medici,  b^^  his  splendid  but  scandalous  pon^ 
tificate  in  which  he  proved  a  most  magnificent  patron  of  the 
Renaissance  and  a  most  unworthy  Vicar  of  Christ.  He  con- 
tinued his  predecessor's  policy  of  hostility  to  France^  and  with 
Henry  of  Elngland,  Maximilian  I  of^  Germany,  and  Ferdinand  of 
-^"llli  ^^  ^tetied  Ihe  treaty  ot  jviechlm.  i';i'^^  for  the  partition  of 
that  country.  An  attempt  of  France  to  retake  Milan  with  the 
aid  of  the  Venetians  met  with  disaster  in  the  battle  of  Novara; 
and  in  the  "  Battle  of  the  Spurs  "  at  Guin^pite  the  French  suf- 
fered defeat  at  the  hands  of  the  English.  But  the  idea  of  the 
balance  of  power  made  some  of  the  confederates  hesitate  at 
the  further  disablement  of  France.  Dissensions,  therefore, 
Iroke  out  among  them.  Then  a  new  king,  Francis  I  (1515-47), 
came  to  the  French  throne,  a  youth  of  twenty  who  was  filled 


19S 


THE  PROTESTANT  REVOLUTION 


OHAP.  Z 


1011-26 


T1mH«w 
Bnptror 


with  the  desire  to  retrieve  the  military  disasters  of  his  country^ 
His  victory  at  Marignano,  1515,  regained  Milan.    In  the  fed— 
lowing  year  the  death  of  Ferdinand  of  Spain  brought  still  an- 
other new  figure  upon  the  scene  in  the  person  of  Charles,  whoser 
mother  was  Joanna,  daughter  of  Ferdinand  and  Isabella,  and 
whose  father  •  was  Philip,  son  of  Maximilian.    Philip  had  died 
in  1506,  and  since  then  (]har1#>,Q  t^aH  b^en  Arch>duke  of  Austria 

sixteen,  the  ruler  qf  Sp''**'!  t^^  Npthf^l^^^'^r  N^P^^-  Sicilv.  and 

P^y  ^^PiiP^^tng  Rpnninh  pirfifineitme  9rrr^°  ^^^  spa.  For 
Some  years  lie  had  lived  in  the  Netherlands  as  the  governor  of 
those  unruly  provinces,  and  there,  frequently  reminded  that 
France  had  taken  some  of  the  fairest  possessions  of  the  House  of 
Burgundy,  whose  heir  he  was,  he  had  come  to  regaird  his  western 
neighbor  as  his  hereditary  foe.  But  as  yet  he  was  in  no  posi- 
tion to  carry  on  war  with  France.  He  was  too  insecurely  estab- 
lished in  his  vast  and  scattered  possessions  and  he  lacked  money. 
So  at  Noyon,  in  1516,  he  concluded  a  peace  with  Francis.  Three 
years  later  his  other  grandfather,  the  Emperor  Maximilian  I, 
that  knight-errant  of  a  bygone  time,  died;  and  then  he  became 
ruler  of  the  Austrian  hereditary  lands.  A  new  emperor  had  to 
be  elected.  Three  candidates  offered  themselves  —  Henry  VIII 
of  England,  who  was  not  an  aggressive  contestant,  Francis  I  of 
France,  and  Charles  I  of  Spain.  The  last  was  chosen  and  be- 
cattle  Emperor  Charles  V. 

Charles  was  only  twenty  years  of  age  when  he  was  elected  to 
the  imperial  position.  He  larlfed  ^  *itr^"ff  r^yiinn^  The  traces 
of  the  unhappy  inheritance  Trom  his  mad  mother,  whose  tainted 
blood  wrought  so  marked  a  change  in  the  Hapsburg  stock,  could 
be  plainly  seen.  But  he  had  an  iron  will,  and  not  a  little  of  the 
unbending  pride  and  stiff  precision  that  proclaimed  him  to  be 
more  of  a  Spaniard  than  a  German.  In  intellect  he  was,  per- 
haps, inferior  to  either  of  the  two  men  who  had  contested  with 
him  for  the  imperial  crown ;  but  he  possessed  qualities  that  both 
of  them  lacked,  freedom  from  their  flagrant  immorality,  and  a 
stem  and  inflexible  sense  of  duty.  Nor  was  he  as  selfish  as 
they.  The  hope  that  he  cherished  in  his  heart  was  that  of  a 
restoration  "^of  the  meaievai  ^pir^  ^"^  ^^^  mi>f|^i^Y^i  church^ 
not  so  much  for  personal  aggrandizement  as  for  the  reason  that 
they  were  in  his  opinion  the  secular  and  the  spiritual  agencies  of 
God,  the  ultimate  organization  of  humanity,  the  final  smd  ef- 
fectual instruments  for  the  extinction  of  evil.  For  the  fulfilment 
of  this  ideal  he  employed  all  the  means  at  his  command,  every 
art  and  every  weapon  with  which  he  was  familiar.    But  this 


THE  OPENING  OF  THE  PROTESTANT  REVOLUTION   199 

silent,  seriousi  and  lonely  man,  the  last  heroic  figure  among  the    ^"^^'^ 
emperors,  was  doomed  to  spend  his  years  in  vain  endeavor  and       isit 
to  know  at  the  end  the  bitterness  of  a  double  defeat. 

Having  now  sketched  very  briefly  the  political  situation  at  the 
opening  of  the  sixteenth  century  we  are  to  turn  our  attention  to 
other  aspects  of  the  great  revolutionary  wave  that  was  sweep-  TteitiM 
ing  through  the  thought  and  the  life  of  the  time  and  transform-  J^SSi 
ing  the  medieval  into  the  modem  world.    The  Renaissance  was  tionatj 
one  aspect  of  that  movement,  and  the  Protestant  Revolution  an-  m&^^9t 
other.    The  political,  industrial,  social,  and  religious  conditions  *^w«i« 
of  the  Middle  Ages  were  all  giving  way  and  becoming  trans- 
formed into  conditions  that  more  nearly  resemble  those  of  our 
own   time.    Ecclesiastical   change,   then,   was   not   an   isolated  . 
phenomenon*    It  was  but  one  aspect  of  a  general  change.    All 
the  various  aspects,  or  lines,  of  this  general  change  were  inex- 
tricably interwoven  with  each  other.    So  it  would  be  both  diffi- 
cult and  inadvisable  to  attempt  to  separate  them,  to  study  one 
without  any  reference  to  the  others.    This  is  particularly  true  of 
the  Protestant  Revolution.    That  movement,  in  addition  to  be- 
ing merely  one  aspect  of  a  general  change,  was  by  no  means  ex- 
dusivdy    an    ecclesiastical    revolution.    The    Church    itself    at 
which  the  revolution  was  aimed  was  concerned  with  many  things 
in  addition  to  religious  matters.    It  was  a  potent  economic  factor 
in  the  life  of  the  time,  it  exercised  a  profound  influence  upon 
social  conditions,  and  it  dominated  the  intellectual  activity  of  men. 
In  each  one  of  these  phases  of  its  activity  it  met  with  opposition. 
Some  men  were  particularly  displeased  with  its  intellectual  con* 
straint,  and  others  with  its  dogmatic  requirements.    Luther  was^ 

esne^My  t^nnr^med  with  t^f  prti#-»iV#>c  oti/1  f|^e  ti^ar^jngrR  nf  thf> 

Cfinjch;  but,  nevertheless,  he  realized  that  the  financial  motive 
was  exceedingly  powerful,  for  he  invoked  it  in  his  first  appeal 
to  the  German  nation.  The  Protestant  Revolution,  then,  is  an 
elastic  term.  It  comprehends  many  motives,  it  was  a  nver 
fed  by  many  springs.  Yet,  after  all,  though  it  was  by  no  means 
an  exclusively  religious  movement,  religion  was  its  essential  con- 
cern, the  main  current  of  the  stream.  It  was  not  an  isolated 
movement  Other  phases  of  that  great  change,  of  which  it  was 
itself  but  a  single  phase,  those  phases  for  instance  that  we  call 
the  Renaissance,  continued  their  course  with  it  side  by  side. 
The  revival  of  literature,  art,  and  science,  the  development  of  in- 
vention, and  the  progress  of  geographical  discovery  were  all  go- 
ing on  simultaneously  with  the  several  ecclesiastical  revolts. 
Nor  was  it  a  sudden  movement.  All  through  the  Middle  Ages, 
as  we  have  seen  in  our  study  of  the  revival  of  conscience,  there 


THE  PROTESTANT  REVOLUTION 


^'^^^^  were  men  who  protested  against  the  unmorality  of  the  clerj 
1819  and  the  n^lect  of  their  spiritual  duties,  and  others  who  r 
jected  the  creeds  of  the  Church.  Something  we  have  seen  ( 
these  several  classes  of  critics  and  reformers.  We  have  delayc 
until  now  the  consideration  of  still  another  class  —  the  htunai 
istic  reformers. 


:n  ;:f 


CHAPTER  XI 

HUMANISM   AND   HERESY 

1.  The  Character  of  Transalpine  Humanism. 

2.  The  English  Humanists. 

3.  The  French  Humanists. 

4.  The  Spanish  Humanists. 

5.  The  German  Humanists. 

6.  Erasmus. 


r 


TTALIAy  humanism  devoted  itself  to  the  study  of  classical^  cpbap. 
^  JCCOfflft  ar^  imi'tT^fo/^  ^^ifirirn]  modes  ^?^thought  for  the  ^^^^ 
:>unx)ses  of  recaoturincr  and  develooinfi'  the  scienhnc  metnod  ol 


/ 


/purposes  of  recapturing  and  developing  the  scientinc  metno< 
'  r^Kc^rvQf  JQn  yi^-AS^^^I-jtn^Tit,  Q^  ^bt^lning  a  ttl6rg^complete  an^ 
accurate  knowledge  of  the  world  ofnature  and  of  men,  of  per- 
I  ?ecting  hterajy  styie,"^  and'^pf^increaoing  ■♦tfte'"l[ppreclation^_o^  ThtAimi 
'  biSuty.  All  of  these  tTiings  were  to  aid  in  the  development  andig^^JJ" 
enrichment  of  the  individual  life-i  They  were  to  help  the  in- 
dividual to  think,  to  act,  and  to  wil  for  himself,  in  opposition,  if 
need  be,  to  any  external  tradition,  authority,  or  precedent.  They 
were  to  help  him  to  love  the  world  as  his  home ;  to  regard  it  no 
longer  as  a  place  of  exile  to  be  despised  in  anticipation  of  a  life 
to  come,  but  daily  to  win  it  anew  by  means  of  the  recently 
aroused  personal  faculties.  They  were  not  intended  to  produce 
a  general  social  or  religious  regeneration.  Culture,  it  was  be- 
lieved, would  relieve  the  individual  from  the  pressure  of  ex- 
ternal authority,  would  result  in  intellectual  emancipation,  and 
would  thus  give  free  rein  to  the  pursuit  of  individual  inclinations 
and  desires.  The  Italian  humanists  were  the  standard-bearers 
of  a  new  ideal,  an  ideal  of  the  untrammeled  esthetic  personality 
whose  highest  Qualiti^  was  that  of  virti^,  the  power  to  will. 
Their  engroesment  with  the  achievement  of  this  ideal  of  esthetic 
personality,  complete  within  itself,  aXowed  them  to  relegate  re- 
ligion to  the  dim  realm  of  dreams.  AOnly  incidentally  and  very 
slightly  was  Italian  humanism  conceme<i  with  ethics  and  with  > 
religion.  It  was  inclined  to  resign  itseli  to  tne  Idei  6f  A  per- 
TTHTtfiit  division  of  human  society  into  two  classes,  the  educated 
and  the  uneducated.  For  the  former  there  was  to  be  freedom 
of  thought ;  for  the  latter  the  existing  traditions  and  conventions 
would  suffice. 


THE  PROTESTANT  REVOLUTION 


ORAP.  S 


1480-2660 


TlMASm* 
ofOlMd- 


/ 

\ 


Tb«Bffe«t 
•f  Traual- 


vponBe- 
lifloa 


On  the  other  hand,  the  humanism  of  the  graver  nations  of  th< 
north  was  occupied  from  the  first  with  social  regeneration.  I 
was  religious  in  its  y^<^"<"^,  not  merely  esthetic.  It  desired  th< 
development  of  individuality,  oi^  course,  but  chiefly  as  a  mean 
toward  social  improvement  in  the  broadest  sense  of  the  temi 
The  trans-Alpine  h^^'^an^gt?  "f"^''^  interested  in  the  welfare  o 

»ciety  at  large.  ( It  was  for  the  enlightenment  of  their  fellow 
men  tnat  they  studied,  translated,  and  wrote,  and  not  solely  fo 
the  perfection  of  the  individual. 

It  is  not  difficult  to  see  why  the  humanism  of  the  north,  differ 
Ihg  in  its  aims  as  widely  as  it  did  from  that  of  Italy,  exerted  s 
profound  an  influence  upon  religion,  while  the  humanism  o 
Italy  was  non-religious  in  its  temper.  The  Italian  humanist 
were  animated  with  the  ardor  of  research,  they  were  observant 
and  they  were  critically-minded.  They  had  won  mental  emand 
pation  for  themselves,  they  were  absorbed  in  the  attainment  o 
a  highly  developed  esthetic  personality,  and  they  were  satis 
fied.  From  the  banning  of  the  pontificate  of  Nicholas  V  to  th 
end  of  that  of  Leo  X  the  Papacy  was  a  foster-mother  of  the  neij 
humanism.  Popes  and  cardinals  were  htunanists  themselves 
The  mere  outward  conformity  to  the  requirements  of  the  Church 
that  was  the  sole  demand  made  upon  the  htmianists,  was  readil; 
granted.  Within  himself,  and  withm  the  various  groups  o 
humanists,  the  man  of  letters  found  a  safe  harbor  of  thought 
So  outward  affairs  were  allowed  to  go  as  they  would.  Th 
Italian  humanists  were  occupied  with  tilieir  studies.  ^They  wer 
but  little  concerned  with  ecclesiastical  abuses  and  theologies 
dogmas.  They  smiled  at  the  former,  and  if  the  latter  mo 
mentarily  arrested  their  attention  a  shrug  of  the  shoulders  wa 
the  only  response.  Italian  humanism  did  not  incite  to  socia 
agtion.  It  ended  with  the  mental  emancipation  and  the  estheti 
development  of  the  individual.  The  humanism  of  the, 
nations  was  cmicemed  from  the  bepnriing  wifh  thf;  |)fitf#>rm^>n 
oj  the  Jif e  of  the  tirne.  It  was  in  travail  with  the  deep  desire 
of  the  soul.  It  was  rooted  in  religion.  It  UT^red  firs^  pf  al 
to  eradicate  the  prevalent  ecclesiastical  abuses ;  anj'Jhenl  later  or 
it-staged' tti^  aileutTCTrtO  th^  dogmag  Of  the  Lhunch^nfTsbugh 
^n  ^^fxncfniA  ti/har  tf  4^m^j^\^i^2^  degenerate. rhristjanitv.    I 

therefore  led  to  heresy,  to  ecclesiastical  revolution.  The  Transal 
pine  humanists.  especialJv  the  Ciermans.  were  not  Qontent  J;a  re 
gard  culture  as  an  mdividual  possesslott."  More  and  more  the; 
became  social  reformers,  who  sought  to  effect  a  change  in  mora 

"affairs. 


and  ecclesiastical 
There  was,  of  course. 


nimity  of  thought  amonj 


HUMANISM  AND  HERESY 


203 


1450-1650 


Ac  hmnanists  in  the  north  upon  the  subject  of  religious  reform, 
was  no  cancelled  iiloviUneiiL  Among  the  nations,  in  each 
country  the  movement  was  sui  generis.  And  neither  was  there 
any  general  and^aefinite  agreement  among  the  individual  hn« 
manists  in  any  one  country.  As  time  went  on  some  of  them  be-  xndiTidn- 
came  identified  with  sects  that  separated  from  the  Mother  ffS^^S 
Oiurch;  others,  j'p^iigjpg  ^f^  ^^^^prtnft  "^^  flnrtri^^^'j  ^i"rig^^ 
.^e  ^aith  of  their  childhood;  ^hilp  rHII  ^thfffS  b**^^"^^  clf<>ptir«^ 
^^d  TJelg  aioof  irom  either  camp.  But  all  of  them,  in  one  way 
-^r  another,  were  devoted  to  the  .cause  of  reform.  As  citizens 
they  welcomed  a  reform  of  morals;  and  as  scholars  they  wel- 
comed an  increased  freedom  of  thought,  an  extension  of  the 
principle  of  free  inquiry.  When,  later  on,  it  was  seen  that  within 
the  various  new  ecclesiastical  folds  there  was  no  more,  or  even 
less,  freedom  for  individual  thought  than  there  had  been  in  the 
ioT3  Of  Lathohcisin  many  oi  the  humanists  turned  t^yir  ^^^«^ 
upon  tlie  iel6uiieiBfTEraSnus,  for  instance,  regarded  Luther  as 
athnBlCUiy  Of  l&ldlectual  progress,  and  Rabelais  held  Calvin  to  be 
a  bigot  Nevertheless  the  spread  of  humanism  made  for  the 
success  of  the  reformers,  for  the  triumph  of  heresy. 

One  should  not  be  surprised  at  the  seeming  boldness  of  many 
of  the  early  humanists.  There  was  no  such  sharp  distinction  in 
their  time  between  the  Church  and  the  heresies  as  later  on  there 
came  to  be  between  Catholicism  and  Protestantism.  Within  the 
Churdi  there  was  no  general  agreement  upon  its  teachings  until 
the  Council  of  Trent.  Men  of  widely  divergent  views  remained 
within  the  pale.  There  was  not  at  that  time  an  impelling  ne- 
cesshy  to  taice  sides  with  one  division  of  Christianity  or  another. 
This  explains  much  of  the  apparent  audacity  in  the  publishing  of 
heretical  views.  Many  of  the  early  humanists  would  have  re- 
pudiated the  charge  of  heresy.  They  were  averse  to  violent 
partiranship.  They  desired  to  be  neither  revolutionists  nor  in- 
novators, but  wished  simply  to  help  in  the  restoration  of  the 
primitive  Christianity  of  apostolic  times. 

The  comparative  history  of  humanism  affords  striking  evi- 
dence of  the  powerful  consciousness  which  the  spirit  of  national- 
ity had  attained,  for  in  every  country  the  movement  acquired  dis-  Aiguih 
tinguishing  characteristics.  English  h'lTTlP"^'*'"^  very  early  de- 
veloped a  practical  tendency.  It  became  interest**^  *"  »^f  n^^<-^ 
of  public  education,  and  was  applied  with  intelligence  to  the  work 
of  religious  re^onn.  Among  the  earliest  of  the  English  hu- 
manists was  William  Grocyn  (i446?~if>iQ)  who  studied  un- 
der Poliriano  and  Chalcondylas  in  Florence  and  taught 
at    Oxford.    The    physician    Thomas    Linacre    (1460?-! 524), 


204  THE  PROTESTANT  REVOLUTION 


^'"^^^^  highly  regarded  as  a  classical  scholar  by  his  contemporaries^  was 
1460-I6i0   another  of  the  Oxford  group  who  having  gone  to  Italy^  the  foun- 
tain-head of  humanism,  returned  to  their  native  land  to  spread 
the  new  learning.    A  third  member  of  the  little  band  of  Hdlen- 
ists  was  John  Colet  (i467?-i5i9),  the  founder  of  St.  PauTs 
School  iiTEondon.    It  is  in  him  that  English  htmianism  definitely 
assumed  its  essential  character.    He  was  much  more  of  an  in- 
novator than  most  of  his  contemporaries.    He  substituted  for  th^ 
medieval  and  allegorical  method  of  interpreting  the  Scrij 
that  of  ^^H«|Y""ng  by  critical  spi^y  fn  nhf9\n  the  literal  mearm^ 
ing  of  the  text.    Erasmus  ascribes  to  him  the  leadership  of  tb.^ 
little  group  oi  Oxford  scholars  at  the  opening  of  the  sixteenth 
century,  "  intent  on  high  designs,  a  thoughtful  band.*'    Out  or: 
his  own  fortune  he  expended  some  $200,000  of  the  money  oM 
our  time  for  the  establishment  and  maintenance  of  the  ne^i^ 
school  in  London.    He  did  much  to  call  attention  to  the  need 
of  church  reform,  speaking  with  passionate  sincerity  of   thcs 
purity  of  primitive  Christianity;  and  he  exerted  a  notable  in- 
fluence upon  the  work  of  education. 

The  radiant  figure  of  Sir  Thomas  More  ( 1478  ?-i 535),  him 
whose  genius  was  said  to  be  "  excellent  above  all  hfa  nationj**  is 
the  last  of  this  group  of  English  humanists  that  we  shall  stop 
sirTiiomM  to  notice.  Subtly  compounded  of  wit  and  gravity,  of  strength 
***"  and  tenderness,  of  cheerfulness  and  religious  fervor,  the  char- 
acter of  the  high-souled  chancellor  is  one  that  makes  an  unfail- 
ing appeal  to  men  of  every  place  and  time.  He  had  a  wide  and 
thorough  knowledge  of  Greek  and  Latin  literature;  and,^Jike^ 
Colet,  he  was  filled  with  an  ardent  desire  for  arefo^naticttL  of 
4ne  Church  from  within.  In  the  long  line  ot  pictures  of  an  ideal 
sf5l€*ot  society  that  begins  with  Plato's  Republic,  and  is  aug- 
mented from  time  to  time  by  the  vision  of  some  dreamer  of 
dreams,  his  Utopia  holds  an  honorable  place.  Through  the  thin 
veil  of  humor  one  may  read  an  indictment  of  the  social  condi- 
tions of  the  time,  of  poverty  that  is  undeserved,  of  riches  that 
are  idle  and  unmerited,  of  persecution  because  of  religious  faith, 
of  the  infliction  of  the  severest  penalty  of  the  law  for  minor 
crimes,  of  the  many  deplorable  evils  that  are  the  inevitable  ac- 
companiment and  aftermath  of  war,  and  of  many  another  glar- 
ing evil  that  filled  the  soul  of  More  with  "divine  discontent" 
And  there,  too,  one  may  read  the  suggestions,  some  of  them 
paradoxical,  others  merely  ingenious,  others  obviously  tentative, 
but  many  of  them  set  forth  in  all  sincerity,  that  were  to  serve  as 
lamps  to  g^ide  the  feet  of  men  toward  a  better  and  a  juster  or- 
ganization of  society.    The  marked  difiFerences  between  rural 


HUMANISM  AND  HERESY  205 

and  urban  life  were  to  be  lessened  as  much  as  possible,  towns  ohap^xi 
were  to  be  made  sanitary  and  inviting,  the  naW^^  plarpg  nf  the  1450-1560 
country  were  to  be  made  yrpen  and  shadv  with  trees:  monastji- 
rictn  waft  »n  >w>  ahnlUhed  i  no  one  was  to  be  idl^.  six  hours  each 
^y  was  to  h<>  the  mavtmnni  ^i^ff  dcvoted  to  manual  labor  so 
that  all  might  have  leisure  for  intellectual  progress;  religious 
tnlipr^tirwi  save  that  all  were  to  believe  in  the  existence  of  God 
and  the  immortality  of  the  soul,  was  to  be  practised.  The  book 
was  originally  written  in  Latin  and  addressed  to  the  educated 
class  of  Europe;  but  it  was  translated  into  English  and  other 
nK)dem  languages,  and  ^'^Jmt^"^*"  inflii#>t^fjfj^l  j^  the  stniggV  ^^^ 
social  refQnn  ^P  n<>ifnany.  Eveu  to-day  it  is  still  a  counsel  of 
progress. 

This  brief  treatment  of  English  humanism  would  be  incom- 
plete should  we  fail  to  note  the  influence  of  Erasmus,  with  whom  tiw  infln- 
we  shall  deal  at  some  length  later  on.    So  great  was  the  power  SJimin 
exerted  by  this  chief  protagonist  of  the  new  humanism  upon  the  inBmUad 
scholars  of  his  time,  and  indeed  upon  the  time  itself,  that  only  the 
influence  of  Voltaire  upon  the  eighteenth  century  can  be  com- 
pared to  it,  an  influence  far  mors  circumscribed  than  that  ex- 
erted by  the  little  Dutch  scholar.    Erasmus  went  to  England  in 
1499  when  he  was  thirty-three  years  of  age.    "  En^lano  pleases' 
me  as  no  other  land  has  vet  pleased  n]gJ'  he  wrote  to  one  of  his 
friends ;  "  the  climate  I  And  most  agreeable  and  healthful,  and  I 
have  come  upon  so  much  accurate  and  el^;ant  scholarship,  both 
Greek  and  Latin,  that  I  hardly  care  now  to  go  to  Italy,  except  for 
the  sake  of  seeing  the  country.'*    Endowed  with  *'  the  capacity 
for  friendship  which  is  a  mark  of  the  true  hiunanist "  he  made 
[riends  wherever  he  wenf;,  in  Oxford,  in  Cambridge,  and  in  LoUr 
don;  and  his  witty  and  satirical  attacks  upon  obscurantism,  his 
method  of  scientific  research,  and  his  advocacy  of  ecclesiastical 
reform,  won  aHh^|[-^|]fg  fn  t^<*  ratig#>  and  incited  imitation.       -- 

From  the  banning  French  humanism  allied  itself  with  heresy, 
due  perhaps  to  the  fact  that  combined  with  the  passionate  de- 
votion of  the  French  scholars  to  ideals  was  a  logical  impatience  Bariy 
of  compromise.    Among  the  Parisian  humanists  of  the  early  aJJJ^irtt 
sixteenth  century  was  ya/;gnpR  T^fAvr^^T/igg^-Tg^M  of  Staples. 
In  his  Commentary  on  the  Epistles  of  St,  Paul,  published  in  1512, 
Lefevre  distinctly  enunciated  the  doctrine  of   justification  by, 
^^h  ftlflBft  which,  as  we  shall  see,  was  the  f undament^J  tenet 
of    Lutheiamsm.    Guillaume    Bud6    (1467-1540),    the   leading 
French  BlUlUiiist  of  his  time,  though  not  the  leading  French 
writer,    was    concerned    primarily    with    secular    studies.    It 
was  he  who  wrestec^  ffnm  Tt^^ly  for  Fra^^y  t^<*  cW\rvy  »n  th#> 


2o6  THE  PROTESTANT  REVOLUTION 


^  first  place  in  the  yorld  of  scholarship.    In  Gredc  scholarship 

1460-1660  and  in  technical  knowledge  of  Latin  he  equaled  if  he  did  not 
surpass  Erasmus,  but  he  was  by  no  means  so  great  an  intellectaal 
force.    Guillaume  Briconnet  (1470-1533),  who  in  1516  became 

Bishop  of  Meanx.  wai;  a  hrnnan^s^  f^nd  a  Patnyf^  yf  prhnlarg.^    He 

withdrew  from  uneducated  ecclesiastics  the  privilege  of  preadi- 
ing  in  his  diocese  and  replaced  them  with  pupils  of  Lefevre. 
Nicolas  Berauld  (1473-1550)  was  an  ardent  student  of  the 
classical  literatures,  ranking  high  as  a  Gredc  scholar.  His  teach- 
ing interested  many  men,  especially  Admiral  Coligny  and  his  two 
brothers,  the  cardinal  and  the  general,  in  the  cause  of  ecclesiasti- 
cal reform.  EtifianfiJOobt  (i509?-46),  who  was  more  directly 
indebted  to  the  Italian  Renaissance  for  his  scholarship  and  lit- 
erary predilections  than  any  other  French  humanist  of  the  time, 
was  believed  by  most  of  his  contemporaries  to  be  a  materialist, 
if  not  actually  an  atheist,  but  his  writings  seem  to  warrant  the 
conclusion  that  he  was  a  sincere  believer  in  the  existence  of  a 
divine  creator  and  in  the  immortality  of  the  soul.  Yet  it  was  a 
vague  and  shifting  idea  of  immortality  that  he  had.  The  faith 
that  recommended  itself  to  him  was  one  of  "  duty  in  relation  to 
this  world  only,"  a  faith  troubled  very  little,  if  at  all,  with  the 
future,  holding  that  to  be  "a  matter  of  which  nothing  can  be 
certainly  known,  and  concerning  which  it  is  useless  to  speculate 
or  to  reason."  His  heretical  views  together  with  some  regrettable 
infringements  of  the  law  caused  him  to  be  put  'to  death.  De* 
spite  his  faults  of  head  and  of  heart  he  was  a  man  of  many  fine 
qualities,  of  no  inconsiderable  ability,  of  a  genuine  love  of  knowl« 
edge,  and  possessed  of  a  keen  desire  to  impart  it  to  his  fellow- 
men.  Jean  Bonaventure  Desperier^  (i5io?-44)  was  another 
writer  of  the  time  whose  books  were  colored  with  heretical 
thought.  He  seems  to  have  abandoned  Protestantism  because 
of  his  dislike  of  the  Calvinistic  doctrines  and  to  have  become  an 
avowed  skeptic. 

The  fame  of  all  these  French  writers  has  been  overshadowed 
by  that  of  Rabelais  rT^9g?-ft^c^^?^  in  whom  the  humanistic  spirit 
of  the  time  found  its  veritable  mcamation.  He,  too,  has  been 
charged  with  atheism,  but  it  is  impossible  to  doubt  that  he  be- 
lieved in  the  existence  of  a  beneficent  deity.  He  was  a  critic  of 
contemporary  sQcjpty  rather  than  a  reformer  i"  t^^t  hf  fii>#Hwa 
to  have  had  no  definite'  program  to  offer.  He  lacked  the  zeal  of 
the  reformer,  the  nanwflCSS  division,  the  concentration  of  in- 
terest, the  fanaticism,  if  you  will,  that  characterizes  such  a  moral 
leader  as  Savonarola.  Yet  in  a  general  way  he  indicated  the 
road  upon  which  he  thnn^h^  it  would  be 


HUMANISM  AND  HERESY 


207 


1 


z 


I 


% 


One  of  the  potest  satirists  of  all  timp,Jie  delighted  in  point-  ohaf^xx 

gg  out  the   follies  of   his   felln^-mfn   tn  ^nQ#>  yelfaye  ^e   was    1460-1660 

smcerely  oevoted.  He  was  impatient  of  tradition  and  of  many 
of  the  accepted  canons  of  conduct.  His  novels  of  Pantagruel 
and  Gargantua  are  among  the  most  vigorous  onslaughts  ever 
made  upon  pedantic  and  ostentatious  scholarship.  He  believed 
in  the  inherent  ^^oodness  of  hum;ip  ^pfurp^  as  contrasted  with  the 
erent  tendency  towards  evil  preached  by  so  many  of  the  re- 
formers. He  he\t^yf^{\  in  irt^t^i\qm  of  thouprht.  and  in  the  re^. 
liability  of  th<>  ^-pac^f^rn'ng  mtV/i  pf  Y^^Yi  ^'^  a  g^ide  in  faith  and 
conduct  His  views  brought  upon  him  the  charge  of  heresy,  and 
It  seems  not  improbable  that  the  charge  contributed  to  the 
vagabond  character  of  his  life.  He  believed  in  the  solidarity  of 
human  interests,  and  in  the  brotherfiood  ana  egufiitv  or  Tn<>p- 
n  the  activity  of  the  awakening  world  in  which  he  lived  he  was 
keenly  interested,  being  co>}remed  chiefly  witV^  gripnrp  which 
he  made  the  principal  pursuit  of  his  life.  Only  secondarily  was 
he  a  man  of  letters. 

It  was  not  only  at  Paris  that  humanism  flourished  in  France. 
It  foimd  Itself  well  received  in  quite  a  number  of  the  more  im- 
portant provincial  towns  —  at  Bordeaux,  Nismes,  Bourges,  Or- 
leans, Toulouse,  Montpellier,  and  especially  at  Lyons,  whose  lit-  in 
erary  activity  exceeded  that  of  the  capital.  Humanism  in  these 
places  did  npt  suffer  so  early  from  the  blighting  influence  of  the 
Sorbonne,  the  relic  of  a  bygone  age,  a  citadel  of  orthodoxy. 
Upon  the  French  men  of  letters  Erasmus  PYPr|gf1  a  pmnnnnreH 
influence.  I'ater  mi  humanissime  is  the  title  bestowed  by 
Rabelais  in  a  letter  avowing  his  indebtedness  to  the  writings  of 
the  great  humanist,    '^he^  jdga  of  a.  reform  of  the  Church  by 

and  by  the  eradication  ot  the  moral  abuses 


of  the  time,  which  was  urged  by  iirasmus,  was  widely  prevalent 
atmng  the  French  humanists.  But  already  before  the  time  of 
Rabelais's  literary  activity  ^"*"^*"isrp  '^  France  was  a  wanitjg^ 
force.  It  was  either  running  to  seed  in  the  pedantries  of  its 
devotees  or  its  activity  in  religious  matters  was  being  checked  by 
reactionary   forces.    The  f^^^gjftlii^  renaissance  in   France  had 


TlMZllflll> 
of 


come  from  above  not  from  below,  from  thp  rnlHiroH  fow  s^p^  not 
from  ^he  masses.  It  had  "flowers  everywhere  and  roots  no- 
where." The  sympathy  of  the  prelates  and  the  protection  of  the 
king,  the  two  supports  upon  which  it  relied,  gave  way  when,  un- 
der the  inspiration  of  Caraffa,  the  Church  in  every  country 
ceased  to  parley  with  the  rebel  leaders  of  reform,  when,  at  the 
dictation  of  logic,  she  closed  the  zna  media  realizing  it  to  be  the 
avenue  through  which  so  many  of  her  sons  were  escaping,  and 


2o8  THE  PROTESTANT  REVOLUTION 


0^^*  g  when  the  disaster  of  Pavia  fell  upon  Francis  and  threw  him  back 
iA6O-i06O   for  support  upon  the  enemies  of  religious  revolt. 

-  -In  the  long  reign  of  John  II  of  Castile,  which  extended  from 
1406  to  1454,  humanism  received  a  certain  encouragement  in  Aat 
cotmtry;  but  the  civil  tumults  which  increased  upon  the  death 
of  that  monarch  did  much  to  obliterate  its  traces.    Later  00 
Isabella  proved  to  be  an  effective  patron  of  leamini^.    So  the 
(lumanistic  movement  once  more  got  under  way  in  the  heart  of 
the  peninsula.    Chief  of  those  who  lent  their  fostering  care  to 
oardinai  %^he  new  learning  was  the  gfreat  Cardinal  Ximenes  ( I436?»IS17)' 
^^******  "  It   was   he   who   established   the  University   of   Alcala  wfa&i 
opened  its  doors  in  1508,  which  was  destined  to  surpass  its 
ancient  rival  the  University  of  Salamanca  and  to  become  the 
altna  mater  of  many  leaders  of  Spanish  learning.    Before  long 
large  numbers  of  students  flocked  to  the  new  school,  that  h^ 
came  famous  principally  for  its  philological  studies.    In  1514  it 
gave  to  the  world  the  first  Greek  text  of  the  New.  Testament 
ever  printed.    Six  years  later  this  was  fcSTowed  by  the  renowned 
Polyglot  Bible,  which  was  also  the  first  of  its  kind.    The  work 
on  this  famous  Bible  was  intrusted  by  Ximenes  to  a  number  of 
scholars,  converted  Jews,  a  Greek,  and  Spaniards,  who  pursued 
their  labors  under  his  direction.    Six  volumes,  published  at  the 
personal  expense  of  the  cardinal  at  a  total  cost  of  almost  $125,' 
000  of  our  money,  were  required  to  contain  the  text  and  note5« 
In  the  prol^;omena  Ximenes  gave  his  reasons  for  the  expend!-^ 
ture  of  so  much  time  and  money.    *'  No  translation,''  he  said 
"  can  fully  and  exactly  represent  tfie  sense  of  the  original  .  .  .  H 
is  necessary,  therefore  .  .  .  that  we  should  go  back  to  the  origic: 
of  the  sacred  writings."    For  a  century  and  a  half  this  Bible 
exerted  a  great  influence  upon  the  texts  of  the  New  Testament. 
The  editors  did  not  have  access  to  the  best  and  earliest  manu" 
scripts,  perhaps  none  older  than  the  ninth  century.    Their  work: 
was  surpassed  by  subsequent  recensions  of  the  biblical  texts ;  but 
they  will  always  retain  the  honor  of  having  produced  the  first 
polyglot  bible,  and  for  Catholicism  their  conservative  attitude 
set  the  standard  of  criticism. 

Foremost  of  the   Spanish  humanists  was  £lis..AatQQig_.d)L 
Nebrija  {idji2?-i^22).  who  after  spending  twenty  years  in  Itejy, 
other         returned  to  become  the  father  of  classical  learning  in  the  Spanish 
S!!^tf  peninsula.    He  had  a  wide  range  of  literary  interests;  and  he 

tured  at  various  places,  at  Seville,  Salamanca,  and  in  the  new 
University  of  Alcala.  Because  of  his  criticism  of  te;ctual_crror5 
in  the  Vulgate  he  was  prosecuted  by  the  Inquisition,  but,  thanks 
to  the  powerful  protection  of  Ximenes,  he  was  permitted  to  con* 


HUMANISM  AND  HERESY  209 


tinue  his  labors.  Among  the  first  masters  of  Castilian  prose  was  ««ha*2_^ 
Tuan  Valdfe  (moo?~iti).  one  of  the  earliest  of  Spanish  critics,  xmo-iwo 
judicial  in  temperament  and  gifted  with  keen  insight,  whose 
earliest  woric  The  Dialogue  of  Mercury  and  Charon  holds  up 
to  fidicnl^  abuses  in  both  church  and  state.  In  his  writings  the 
Lutheran  doctrine  of  justificaticHi  by  faitti  alone  was  mingled 
with  Spanish  mysticisin.  His  heresy  went  so  far  as  to  hold  that 
the  personal  yilightenment  which  is  said  to  come  as  the  result  of 
mystic  contempktion  is  of  far  greater  importance  than  the 
Bible, which  is  a  mere  primer  of  the  Christian  faitli.  Iuan..clii 
Vermra  (i402-mq7).  one  of  the  most  noted  of  the  Casitiiians 
for  learning  and  culture,  was  a  writer  of  el^^^nt  Latin  vorse,  and 
one  of  the  forerunners  of  historical  criticisQi.  He  was  in  the 
midst  of  preparing  a  complete  edition  of  the  works  of  Aristotle 
when  the  death  of  his  patron,  Ximenes,  put  a  stop  to  the  under- 
taking. Last  of  the  Spanish  humanists  whom  we  shall  note  was 
Luis  Vives  (i4Q2-ijv4o)  a  native  of  Valencia,  the  ijiost  influ? 
eotiaL^hoolmast  his  time,  who  passed  a  considerable  part 

of  his  active  life  in  England  and  in  the  Spanish  Netherlands. 
According  to  Erasmus,  who  was  his  teacher,  no  man  was  better 
fitted  than  th^  Doctor  MelMuus,  as  the  Oxford  students  loved  to 
call  him,  **  to  overwhelm  the  battalions  of  the  dialecticians." 

Upon  Spanish  humanism,  as  upon  that  of  other  lands,  Erasmus 
exerdsed  a  _great  influence.    He  was  admired  by  the  Emperor.  Th«  i&iii. 
Charles  Vj^and  Tie  came  to  be  the  model  of  all  who  aspired  to  SSl^, 
culture.    But  when  Charles  left  Spain  in  1529  the  friars  and  inOpaiB 
the  scholastics,  who  very  early  had  detected  the  germs  of  heresy 
in  the  freedom  of  speech  encouraged  by  the  circulation  of  the 
writings  of  Erasmus,  Were  to  exert  an  eflfective  opposition. 

Gradually  Spanish  humanism  sank  into  silence.    Bom  under 
an  ardent  sun,  endowed  with  passion  that  could  find  its  vent  only  TteOoi- 
in  attachment  to  a  real  object,  the  Spanish  people  were  uQ^t-  tJJJJ 
traded Jby  the  pale  abstractions  of  FlorentinejPlatonism.    They 
had,  too,  a  deeper  sense  of  sin  than  the  voluptuous  Italians,  who, 
often  incredulous,  became  scoflfers  only  too  readily.    Less  intoxi- 
cated with  beauty  for  its  own  sake,  they  gave  more  thought  to. 
morality,  and  their  scholarship  was  always  closely  coupled  with 
theological  thought.    Yet  despite  these  facts  a  humanism,  modi- 
fied to  suit  the  Spanish  temperament  and  predilections,  would 
doubtless  have  developed  and  exerted  a  great  influence  in  the 
life  of  the  nation  had  it  not  been  for  the  stem  repression  of 
the  Inquisiti^,,    Spanish  humanism  was  seemingly  stretching 
its  wmgs  for  a  bolder  flight  when  it  was  sharply  checked  and 
brought  to  a  pathetic  collapse  by  the  Inquisition,  the  institution 


210 


THE  PROTESTANT  REVOLUTION 


1450*1660 


dmrlsgHii- 
■wniiUlii 
Otrmaay 


whose  object  it  was  to  suppress  all  prq^nant  thought;  and  noC 
until  the  nineteenth  century  was  Spain  destined  to  witness  a 
resuscitation  of  the  passion  for  knowledge. 

The  first  of  the  German  humanists  with  whom  we  shall  deal 
are  those  scholars^  knights-errant  of  humanism  and  also  of 
heresy,  who  wandered  restlessly  from  place  to  place,  arousing  in- 
terest in  the  new  learning,  sowing  seeds  of  new  thought,  teaching 
youth  in  the  universities,  disputing  with  the  scholastics,  and  in 
their  pagan  self-indulgence  stamping  themselves  as  cousins  to 
the  Italian  humanists.  Peter  Luder  (i4is?-74?)  was  one  of  the 
earliest  of  these  itinerant  scholars.  After  studying  in  Italy  he 
became  a  lecturer  at  Heidelberg:  where  he  incurred  the  enmity  of 
the  orthodox  members  of  the  faculty ;  and  from  there  he  went, 
among  other  places,  to  Ulm,  Erfurt,  Leipzig,  and  Basel.  Cat^ 
rad  Celtes  (1459-1508),  after  studying  at  several  universities, 
became  a  wandering  scholar.  Out  of  his  meager  earnings  he 
contrived  to  save  enough  to  support  himself  for  six  months  in 
Italy.  There  he  studied  at  Ferrara,  Padua,  and  Rome.  Re- 
turning to  his  native  land  he  became  a  veritable  apostle  of  the 
new  thought.  Everywhere  he  strove  to  inculcate  the  spirit  of 
the  new  learning.  His  wanderings  extended  as  far  as  Poland 
and  Hungary  where  he  founded  humanistic  societies  like  Ae 
Italian  academies.  His  poems  are  tinged  with  paganism,  and 
his  teaching  made  for  independence  of  thought.  Last  oF  these 
roving  scholars  that  we  shall  notice  is  H^yir^t^p  yon  ^^**^  B^^l^ 
(1468-1534),  who  after  spending  five  years  in  Italy  lectured  in 
many  of  the  universities  and  towns  of  northern  and  central  Ger- 
many, speaking  not  only  of  the  Latin  classics  but  also  of  the  negj. 
lect  of  the  intelligent  study  of  the  Bible. 

In  the  first  years  of  the  fifteenth  century  Germany  had  seven 
universities  —  Prague  1348,  Vienna  1365,  Heidelberg  1386, 
Cologne  1388,  Erfurt  1392,  Leipzig  1409,  and  Rostodc  1409. 
And  far  away  at  Cracow  in  Poland  a  university  was  established 
in  1420.  Most  of  these  institutions  were  centers  of  the  old 
scholasticism,  which  though  waning  in  power  and  unable  to 
boast  of  any  leader  of  marked  ability  was  still  arrogant  in  temper 
and  militant  in  mood.  Theology  still  kept  its  place  as  the  study 
of  chief  importance,  and  to  it  all  other  studies  were  r^^arded  as 
preparatory  or  subordinate.  In  the  outer  world  the  study  of  arts 
and  of  letters  was  fast  assuming  a  threatening  importance;  but 
ready  to  come  to  the  support  of  the  theologians  was  the  Church, 
and  in  particular  the  powerful  mendicant  orders.  A  quarter  of 
a  century  passed  in  which  humanism  made  pronounced  headway, 
and  then,  Uxgely  due  to  its  impulse,  new  universities  were  estaV 


TlMHtfir 

tlM 


HUMANISM  AND  HERESY  211 


iishid — Grief swalde  1456,  Freiburg  1460,  Basel  1460,  Ingolstadt  o^^^e 
1472,  Trier  1472,  Tubingen  1477,  Mainz  1477,  Wittenberg  1502,  i460.i66c 
Frankfort-on-the-Oder  1506,  and  Marburg  1527.  Most  of  the 
Gennan  universities,  like  those  in  other  lands,  witnessed  fre^ 
quent  struggles  between  the  advocates  of  the  new  learning  and 
the  defenders  of  the  old.  The  preeminence  of  theology  and 
the  educational  methods  of  scholasticism  were  seriously  menaced. 
The  conservatives  with  their  backs  to  the  wall  were  fighting  for 
the  supremacy  which  for  so  long  a  time  they  had  enjoyed. 

One  of  the  most  important  cradles  of  humanism  north  of  the 
Alps  was  the  Rhine  countr}^  A  vigorous  intellectual  activity  Th«B]i«i. 
was  rife  in  those  provinces.  Schools  imbued  with  the  new  ideal  |||^jy^ 
of  education  were  to  be  found  in  many  places ;  and  so  important 
did  the  Rhindand  become  as  an  educational  center  that  students 
flocked  to  it  from  Scotland,  Scandinavia,  and  the  Slavic  lands. 
Rudolf  Agricola  1 1443-85 ) .  a  student  first  in  one  of  the  schools 
of  the  Brethren  of  the  Common  Life  and  then  for  ten  years  in 
Italy,  may  be  r^^arded  as  the  chief  restorer  of  Greek  in  Ger- 
many. After  he  went  to  teach  in  the  University  of  Heidelberg 
that  institution  became  a  center  of  humanism.  In  the  purity*bf 
his  life,  in  the  religious  inclination  of  his  temperament,  and  in 
the  serious  purpose  of  his  work  he  is  typical  of  the  social  hu- 
manists of  the  north  as  distinguished  from  the  individualists  of 
Italy.  Only  his  early  death  prevented  him  from  exercising  a 
far-reaching  influence  in  the  literary  and  religious  revivals  that 
were  going  on  hand  in  hand  in  Germany.  In  many  places  new 
schools  were  being  founded,  printing  presses  established,  classical 
writings  translated,  new  books  written  in  Latin  and  in  German, 
and  libraries  collected.  One  of  the  most  important  of  these 
schoo^was  that  founded  at  pgventfcr,  in  what  is  now  Holland,  in 
1481  by  Al«ander  H^us  (1433-^),  the  greatest.  German 
^ftarhrr  c^  h\fs  tiny^  ^TT;4f^^rHitiafpiy  after  his  death  there  was 
no  one  to  take  his  place  and  so  its  glory  declined.  Still  more 
important  was  the  school  at  Schlettsta^,  which  under  the  direc- 
tion of  JU>dwig  ^17^^gfflN'^^  ( '^-^19^)  >  became  the  point 
from  which  the  new  ideas  radiated  in  the  country  of  the  Upper 
Rhine.  Jgh^p  v^n  Dalbenjr  ( 1445-55  ?-i  504) ,  after  studying  in 
Italy,  was  made  Chancellor  of  the  University  of^HeideJb^  and 
Bishop  of  Worms  in  the  same  year.  He  strove  to  make  both 
towns  nurseries  of  the  new  culture.  Jacob  WimpheUng jC  1450- 
1528)  put  into  definite  literary  form  the  ideas  carried  out  in 
practise  by  H^us.  "  The  better  education  of  the  yoking,"  he 
wrote,  "is  the_ foundation  of  all  true  reform^^ecclesiastiair,  ra- 
tional, and"3o«nestic."    So  great  was  the  demand  for  his  writ^ 


212 


THE  PROTESTANT  REVOLUTION 


1460-1560 


a«niia» 
OltlaiM 

NQTMrlM 

of  Vtw 
Tboiight 


ings  that  up  to  1520  almost  twenty  thousand  copies  of  them  were 
sold.    To  die  end  this  "  Schoolmaster  of  Germany  "  hoped  for  t 
reformation  of  the^ChurcLfrom  withjp.    Still  another  humaniit 
who  dreamed  of  a  reformation  of  the  Church  by  itself  was  Sdbas- 
tian  Brant  (iAS2=J!i2i).    In  Basel,  where  he  lived  for  wmbj 
years,  humanism  was  fostered  by  the  new  university,  and  clas- 
sical and  other  texts  were  issued  by  three  printii^  presses.    He 
is  famous  chiefly  for  his  pungent  satire  TJff^hit  of  P(^(^  ^ 
story  of  a  ship  directed  by  fools  and  sent  to  sail  the  trooUed 
seas  of  life.    More  than  a  hundred  fools  embark,  among  tiwoi 
the  book-fool,  the  miser-fool,  the  fashion-fool,  and  the  fool  of 
useless  studies.    They  sail  past  the  land  of  idlers  until  Aej 
come  to  the  land  of  fools.    The  immorality  and  ignorance  of  At 
clergy  are  dealt  with  in  unmistakable  terms.    It  became  the  most 
famous  German  poem  of  the  time,  appealing  as  it  did  to  the 
widespread  discontent  with  the  condition  of  affairs,  and  it  found 
more  than  one  imitator.    One  of  the  most  important  of  the 
humanistic   reformers  who   remained  within  the  pale  of  the 
Church  was  GeUer  von  Kaiserb^  (1445-1510),  who  boldly  de- 
nounced the  prevalent  vices  and  exerted  every  effort  to  effect  a 
reform  in  discipline.    He  was  an  eloquent  preacher  and  was 
highly  esteemed  throughout  Germany.    Favorably  known   for 
the  wide  range  of  his  knowledge  was  Jphr)^  Tptfiemius  ( 1462- 
1 5 16),  abbot  of  the  Benedictine  monastery  of  SpanheSm.    But 
he  kept  close  within  his  convent  walls  and  so  f  afled  to  exert  a 
popular  influence. 

The  more  important  of  the  German  cities,  planted  along  the 
highways  of  the  world  and  subject  to  the  cosmopolitan  influ- 
ences that  are  afforded  by  frequent  intercommunication,  had 
long  been  strongholds  of  civil  liberty.  They  now  became 
nurseries  of  intellectual  freedom  and  religious  independence. 
When  men  found  others  sharing  their  thoughts  they  became  em- 
boldened to  speak  and  to  write.  They  felt  the  impulse  to  dare 
and  to  do.  It  is  iiLthe  townS|  the  humming  hives  of  humanity, 
rather  than  in  the  placid  country-side,  that  qew  thought  is  given, 
birth.  The  culture  from  which  the  new  ideals  of  life  were  given 
birth  was  essentially  urban  in  character.  It  grew  up  in  the 
towns  that  were  very  largely  outsid&Jfiudalisnu  It  ^^d  an  in- 
.  dustrial  and  a  commercial  basjs,  in  contradistinction  to  the  purely 
agranaii  basis  of  the  culture^f  the  Middle  Ages,  and  it  was  ^ 
first  bu^  little  concerned  with  religious  affaita^^  But  the  great 
widening  of  die  physical  horizon  and  the  unprecedented  ex- 
pansion of  trade  was  followed  by  a  time  of  intellectual  elevation. 
Gradually  the  medieval  consciousness  was  dissolved  and  a  new 


HUMANISM  AND  HERESY  213 


atmosphere  of  emotion  and  intellectual  tendencies  was  imated  ^^"^^^^  ° 
which  left  the  old  culture  and  its  principles  far  behind.  The  1450-1650 
strei^^  of  the  old  culture  had  lain  in  the  ascetic  ideal.  It  had 
borne  the  stamp  of  the  Qiurch.  The  strength  of  the  new  cul- 
tnre  lay  in  the  development  of  ^rthly  life.  It  bore  the  stamp  of 
me  laity.  In  this  processof  emaricTpafioh  from  the  ideals  of  the 
Age  of  Faith  the  Italian  cities  led  the  way.  In  time  the  move- 
ment spread  to  otfer  piar.es.    The  GermM  yities  attained  their 

the  four- 
tcenth  centun^^n  the  fifteenth_£f"»^<*x  owing  to  (Be'^arc- 

tivity  oi"^t*<^^^ni^"^^  ppnr^^i  tb^tr  j>olitical  powfii:,jaas^a-ji«a- 

nuy  foicfc^  But  they  continued  to  play  a  most  active  part  in  the 
history  of  civilization.  Within  their  walls  it  was  that  individ- 
uality was  revived,  that  man  fotmd  himself  free  to  think  and 
free  to  act  in  a  much  larger  measure  than  had  been  possible  for 
many  centuries.  In  the  truest  sense  of  the  phrase  the  towns  were 
the  nurseries  of  modem  life. 

Oxnmerdal  prosperity  had  brought  to  Augsburg  riches  and 
power.  It  was  the  center  of  German  finance,  for  it  was  the 
home-dty  of  the  great  family  of  the  Fuggers,  the  most  impor- 
tant of  an  the  new  capitalistic  associations.  Its  citizens  were 
intelligent,  and  devoted  to  their  fatherland.  They  were  con-  ooantd 
scious  of  the  fact  that  the  interests  of  the  papal  curia  did  not  ^«**nt« 
coincide  with  those  of  Germany.  They  were  aware  of  the  short- 
comings of  the  dei^.  With  the  educational  aims  and  methods 
of  the  scholastics  they  were  dissatisfied.  Even  the  Fuggers  were 
no  mere  worshipers  of  Mammon.  They  had  a  deep  realization 
of  the  cultural  and  social  mission  of  wealth.  There  was  in  the 
city,  as  elsewhere,  an  air  of  impending  change.  Chie£j:d[  Jhc 
Aiiggl^^irg  imm^njgi^Q^  WQ  Conrad  Peuting^  (1465-1547),  a 
learned  patrician,  friend  and  literary  coadjutor  of  the  Emperor 
Maximilian,  who  became  the  secretary  of  the  city.  He  had 
studied  with  Poliziano  in  Italy  and  when  he  returned  home  he 
became  active  as  a^jegtfiO  ^  ^  collector,  and  as  a  patron  of^ 
s^olars. 

^Nuyenaberg.  situated  in  the  center  of  the  Germanic  lands,  the 
German  wond  in  miniature,  was  another  of  these  civic  centers 
of  humanism,  the  most  import^t  of  them  all.  It  was  esteemed  pirk* 
as  **  the  brightest  jewel  of  the  empire."  The  ramifications  of  its  JSJ^J,^ 
trade  extended  throughout  the  known  world ;  and  so  many  and 
so  important  were  the  craftsmen,  the  artists,  and  the  men  of 
letters  who  lived  there  that  it  easily  held  its  position  as  the 
Florence  ^^  ^"Hi^^Yj  Most  important  of  its  devotees  of  hu- 
maniam  was  '^yillib^  pirkheimer   (1470-1530),  patrician  and 


214  THE  PROTESTANT  REVOLUTION 


OHAP.  n  gjj£QP»  friend  and  counselor  of  untold  numbers  of  scholars,  who 
iMO-iMo  ifliig^t"  ^^  "^m  lip  ^"  hin^^ejf  the  combined  culture  of  the  age. 
He  had  spent  a  number  of  years  in  Italy  in  happy  friendsUp 
with  distinguished  men  of  letters.  Despite  the  fact  that  there 
was  a  distinct  touch  of  paganism  in  his  character  he  was  sin- 
cerely interested  in  the  cause  ^^  ^^^^gtOf^°  *'ffnP"  But  the  <gc- 
trep^<*g  ^f  revolution  and  obscurantism  were  alike  distasteful  to 
him.  In  the  many-sided  activity  of  Alhriyht  Purer  (iA7i-- 
1528),  Germany's  greatest  artist  and  one  of  the  world's  gc^ 
paJT^teiy.  may  be  found  a  full  expression  of  the  new  life  that  was 
surging  in  his  native  land.  In  him  in  several  ways,  in  his  some- 
what g^oss  and  materialistic  pleasures  and  in  his  concern  with 
social  and  religious  matters,  the  German  Renaissance  was  in- 
carnate. In  the  record  of  his  journey  to  the  Netherlands  he 
denounced  "the  unchristian  Papacy  which  strives  against  the 
freedom  of  Christ,"  which  puts  upon  the  laity  such  "  heavy  bur- 
dens of  human  laws  for  which  we  are  robbed  of  the  price  of  our 
blood  and  sweat  that  it  may  be  expended  shamefully  by  idle, 
lascivious  people,  while  thirsty  and  sick  men  perish  of  hunger/' 
He  denounced,  too,  the  "blind  teaching  which  the  men,  whom 
they  call  the  Fathers,  have  invented  and  set  down  whereby  the 
precious  Word  is  in  many  places  falsely  explained,  or  not  set 
forth  at  all."  Yet  anxious  as  he  was  to  see  a  reformation  of  the 
evil  living  of  the  clergy,  the  curtailment  of  the  power  of  the 
papal  curia,  and  a  return  to  a  more  primitive  state  of  Chris- 
tianity, he  clung  to  the  creeds  and  the  conventions  of  the  old 
Church.  At  least  he  did  not  break  with  them  publicly.  In  this 
respect  he  was  like  many  another  humanist,  ^^IZIftH'*^  f^^  *'^fo*;g?* 

but  notrebellinn. 

VWy^early  in  the  German  Renaissance  the  Xhuxsssitf^-Jof 
nMBrfnri  Erfurt  became  distinguished  for  its  work  in  the  classical  lan- 
*""*****•  guages  and  literatures,  and  later  on  under  the  leadership  of 
M||fprni^<^  pistons  (i465?-iS34)  it  added  to  its  reputation. 
Round  this  teacher  there  gathered  a  notable  g^oup  of  scholars 
who  took  an  important  part  in  the  struggle  between  humanism 
and  medievalism.  More  remarkable  as  a  thinker  was  ^lutis, 
anus  Rufus  (1471-1526),  better  known  as  Mutian,  one  of  the 
most  attractive  of  all  the  German  humanists,  whose  learning, 
wide  and  ready  sympathy,  and  power  of  suggestion,  made  him 
the  center  of  a  group  of  scholars  stmnpriy  ^^nrt^^^ly^  Yf}f\\  l\ere^Y 
Among  his  followers  were  Solatia  (1484-1545),  Eoban  Hesa. 
(1488-1540),  Ulrich_yon_Huttfin,  with  whom  we  are  soon  to 
deal,  and  ^^tllfi  Rr^^"iif>  (1480?-! 540).  All  of  them  wert 
filled  with  an  ardent  devotion  to  the  new  learning  and  were  ac 


HUMANISM  AND  HERESY 


215 


tivdy  arrayed  against  the  lingering  scholasticism  that  was  still  ^^^^^'  ^ 
intrenched  in  many  places  and  that  could  rely  for  support  upon  imo-iuo 
all  the  power  of  the  papal  curia.  The  active  mind  of  .Mi^jan  was 
interested  in  all  the  grave  problems  of  the  time.  Yet  he  did  not 
give  his  thoughts  to  the  public  through  the  press ;  he  committed 
them  to  writing  Qnly  in  letters  to Jiis  friends.,^  With  the  theo- 
logical creeds  abouTwhich  so  many^battles  of  words  were  raging 
he,  together  with  so  many  others  of  the  humanists,  was  little 
concemeA  Quietly  he  lived  his  life,  collecting  books,  reading 
and  discussing  them,  a  gentle  scholar  **  who  loved  and  sought  the 
truth." 

In  our  stoiy  of  humanism  and  its  relation  to  heresy  in  Eng- 
land, France,  Spain,  and  Germany  only  a  few  of  the.  more  cele*- 
brated  scholars  have  been  mentioned.  It  would  be  a  mistake 
to  think  that  these  names  exhaust  the  list  of  humanists  in  those 
countries.  In  order  to  gain  an  adequate  idea  of  the  literary 
activity  of  those  cotmtries  one  should  realize  that  the  list  can  be 
extended  very  greatly.  Especially  is  this  true  of  France  and 
Germany.  Afflm^  ^^'^  ^pftV^  ^g*^id^P^  scholars  could  have  been^ 
found  i»  iynji  iiinMiUlwrrr  irnn^  in  tUoh<  miiijliifi  No  Ger- 
man  town/'  said  Irenicus,  "  is  so  far  removed  from  all  litera- 
ture that  it  cannot  point  to  its  learned  Greek  scholars,  to  say 
nothing  of  the  rest.  Who  could  count  them?"  Everywhere 
darkness  was  being  dispersed  and  the  stagnation  of  scholasticism 
disturbed.  It  must  be  noted  also  that  as  time  had  gone  on  the 
humanists  had  become  more  and  more  radical.  The  q]der  Ger-. 
niiin  hnmnniiit^  were  grave  scholars  deeply  desirous  of  helping 
in  the  general  intellectual  and  religious  development  of  their 
country.    But  while  they  earnestly  desired  a  reform  of  the  cur- 

^ounger  humanists  were_rnr^^  **^CfiLJ^;jconflict.  Like  their 
captain,  Ulricii  von  Hutten,  they  were  Hotspurs  oi  reform  if 
not  of  revolution. 

The  first  important  battle  between  the  humanists  and  the 
scholastics  took  place  upon  a  question  that  had  little  to  do  with 
the  things  over  which  tfie  two  camps  were  in  dispute.  JobcmiT-* 
Reuchlin  (1455-1522),  one  of  the  most  notable  personages  in  BMukita 
the  history  of  German  humanism,  was  deeply  interested  in  re- 
ligious matters.  He  became  a  student  of  Hebrew  and  wrote  the 
first  important  granunar  of  that  language^  iTii  pioneer  work 
in  scientific  philology  was  inevitably  bound  to  conflict  with  the 
unscientific  method  of  the  old  medievalists,  to  demolish  it,  and 
to  sweep  away  the  theological  ideas  that  were  based  upon  it 
He  bravely  pointed  to  errors  in  the  Vulgate,  the  Latin  transla* 


2l6 


THE  PROTESTANT  REVOLUTION 


OHAP.  XX 


tion  of  the  Bible  that  had  been  accepted  all  through  the  Middle 


Th«Ob- 

■ennuit" 


1460-1650  Ages ;  he  suggested  corrections,  and  he  dwelt  upon  the* 

of  going  back  to  the  ultimate  sources  of  information.  He  cast 
alffiTe  all  traditional  commeniaries  ana  endeavored  ^  ascertain 
the  literal  meaning  of  the  various  books  of  the  Bible  in  their 
original  language.  As  a  scholar  he  won  for  himself  a  European 
reputation.  But  his  principal  occupations  were  those  of  a  law- 
yer and  a  statesman,  and  not  those  of  a  man  of  letters.  As  old 
age  approached,  he  relinquished  diplcmiacy  for  study  and  re- 
tired into  the  country,  there  to  spend  his  remaining  years  quietly. 
It  was  then  that  the  storm  burst  about  him. 

The  scholastics  were  well  aware  of  the  impending  struggle. 
Instinctively  they  felt  that  the  scientific  method  of  the  humanists 
and  the  increasing  freedom  of  thought  were  fatal  to  their  posi- 
tion.   To  us  it  seems  a  hopeless  struggle;  medievalism  on  one 
side  and  modernism  on  the  other, —  darkness  and  light.    But 
to  its  defenders  obscurantism  by  no  means  appeared  a  forlorn 
cause.    It  was  a  daring  thing  to  deal  with  Hebrew  in  those  days. 
The  Jews  were  the  people  who  had  crucified  Christ    Were  not 
they  and  their  tongue  things  to  be  shunned  by  every  faithful 
Christian?    Was  there  not  good  reason  to  suspect  of  heresy 
any  one  who  devoted  himself  to  the  study  of  the  Jewish  language? 
In  accordance  with  an  imperial  order  Reuchlin  was  required  by 
the  Archbishop  of  Mainz  to  give  his  opinion  on  the  question 
whether  all  Hebrew  books  with  the  exception  of  the  Old  Testa^ 
ment  ought  to  be  taken  from  the  Jews  and  committed  to  the 
flames.     In  his  reply  Reuchlin  arranged  the  Jewish  books  in 
seven  divisions,  only  one  of  which,  he  said,  and  that  with  no  cer- 
tainty, deserved  the  fate  of  being  burned.    As  a  result  a  bitter 
controversy  developed,  first  between  Reuchlin  and  PfeflFerkom, 
a  converted  Jew,  and  then,  when  the  latter  was  seen  to  be  no 
match  for  the  scholar,  between  Reuchlin  and  Jacob  Hoogstraten, 
dean  of  the  Dominicans  at  Cologne  and  chief  inquisitor  in  that 
part  of  Germany.    The  course  of  the  controversy  was  followed 
with  breathless  interest  for  ten  years  by  all  educated  Germany. 
Despite  the  fact  that  the  question  in  dispute  was  only  slightly 
related  to  the  things  upon  which  the  two  hostile  forces  were 
divided  the  humanists  rightly  regarded  the  trial  of  Reuchlin  for 
heresy  as  an  attack  upon  themselves  and  their  principles.    On 
the  one  side  were  the  mendicant  orders,  especially  the  Domini- 
cans of  Cologne,  supported  by  the  Inquisition,  and  on  the  other 
were  the  younger  scholars  and  poets,  apostles  of  scientific  re- 
search and   freedom  of  thought.    Two  trials  in  Germany  did 
not  suffice  to  settle  the  case.    An  appeal  was  taken  to  Rpme^ 


HUMANISM  AND  HERESY  217 

Then  |ndjppgn^  was  gfiven  in  favor  of  Reuchlin.    But  L©o_3^  ^^^^^' " 
instead  of  confirming  the" sentence  of  the" commission  that  heard  iam-imo 
the  appeal,  imposed  gilenr<^  UP9"  ^^^  si^^*^>  with  the  practical 
effect  of  proTonging  the  struggle  indefinitely.    The  failure  to 
secure  the  condemnation  of  the  humanist  served  only  to  increase 
the  enmity  of  the  Dominicans. 

The  hostility  between  the  two  camps  gained  in  bitterness.  The 
publications  bom  of  the  fight  were  not  only  adorned  with  me  Let- 
learning  and  enlivened  with  wit,  but  were  also  disfigured  with  q^^^ 
licentiousness.  Yet  despite  the  depths  to  which  the  controversy  icmi 
sometimes  descended  there  was  revealed  more  and  more  clearly 
the  essential  differences  between  the  htunanists  and  the  medie- 
valists. Chief  of  these  literary  missiles  was  a  collection  of  let- 
ters called  [^^^tf'f  ^f  Oh.^ri^rf  Mfift^  the  first  series  of  which, 
containing  forty-one  letters,  appeared  in  1515.  The  writers  of 
these  epistles  are  supposed  to  be  members  of  the  clerical  party 
who  desire  to  receive  or  to  give  information  r^;arding  the 
Reuchlin  controversy  or  who  appeal  to  Gratius,  a  professor  at 
Cologne,  to  settle  points  that  were  in  dispute.  The  letters  were 
written  purposely  in  "  the  choicest  bad  Latin/'  and  were  signed 
with  fictitious  names,  some  of  which  are  absurd.  In  an  ap- 
parently unconscious  manner  they  disclosed  the  most  astonishing 
ignorance  and  asked  the  most  ridiculous  of  questions.  Piety 
and  pruriency,  pedantry  and  profound  ignorance,  go  hand  in 
hand  in  them;  gluttony  is  portrayed  in  the  broadest  farce,  and 
imnK>rality  with  boisterous  mirth.  Yet  so  true  was  this  satire 
upon  the  obscurantists  that  the  Letters  were  at  first  accepted  as 
genuine  and  serious.  A  second  series,  containing  seventy  letters, 
was  published  in  15 17.  The  Letters  appeared  without  the  names 
of  the  real  writers  and  their  authorship  has  always  been  a  matter 
of  dispute.  It  is  now  thought  that  Cp>tus  Rubianus_and,UlrictL 
von  Huttpi  were  the  principal  writere ;  but  it  is  ^gossibl?  that 
tnistg,  by  direct  contribution  or  by  suggestion,  aide? 
in  the  work  of  compilation.  Everywhere  the  letters  were  re- 
ceived with  shouts  of  laughter;  but  while  their  appearance  is  a 
dramatic  event  in  the  struggle  between  humanism  and  scholasti- 
cism their  importance  must  not  be  over-rated.  At  that  time 
actual  rebellion  against  the  Church  was  already  too  near  at  hand 
to  be  greatly  accelerated  or  retarded  by  such  a  pasquinade. 

rViipf  nf  the  tpiMta"t  huiP^"^'^^^  was  tJlrich  von  Hutten,  ( 1488- 
1523),  a  man  of  noble  birtik,  a  lover  of  literature,  a  rake,  a  mridi 
patriot,  and,  later  in  life,  the  most  fiery  of  reformers.    He  real-  Hntton 
ized  keenly  the  injury  that  Germany  had  suffered  from  the  finan- 
cial exactions  of  the  Papacy.    He  saw  his  country  divided  and 


2i8  THE  PROTESTANT  REVOLUTION 


<^g^^'  ^  distracted  with  internal  conflict;  and  the  rhi^f  ranc^  /^^  ^jg 
1460-1660  pditical  abasement  hi*  ^ttrthiitgd^  to  the  Roman  curia.  Deqnte 
the  fact  that  he  spent  the  greater  part  of  his  short  life  in  poverty 
and  in  disease  he  was  unremitting  in  his  attacks  upon  the  op- 
pressors of  his  fatherland.  He  had  been  to  Rome  and  the 
things  that  he  saw  there  furnished  material  for  his  pungent 
epigrams.  With  unsparing  banter  and  savage  satire  he  leaped 
into  the  fray  and  remained  a  foremost  combatant  until  he  died, 
alone  and  in  poverty,  still  young  in  years  but  worn  with  the 
arduous  fight.  More  than  any  other  man  he  gave  voice  to  the 
vague  but  deep-seated  resentment  of  Germany  against  the  Papacy 
for  its  long-continued  oppression.  "  We  are  fighting  for  a  com- 
mon freedom/'  he  wrote  to  Luther,  "to  liberate  an  oppressed 
Fatherland."  In  him  it  was  that  the  humanistic  culture  for  the 
first  time  lent  itself  definitely  to  the  aid  of  the  Protestant  Revo- 
lution. It  was  his  mission  to  declare  open  war  on  the  part  of 
the  new  culture  against  the  old. 

jicouraged  by  the  reaction  against  the  financial  exactions 
of  the  papal  curia  and  the  growing  sentiment  of  German  patriot- 
ism the  humanists  lent  themselves  more  and  more  to  the  cause 
of  revolt.  But  there  was  one,  the  greatest  of  them  all,  Erasmug^ 
(1466?-! 536),  who  rpf^QPf^  t(>  li^pH  his  name  to  one  camp  or  to 

iressed  himself  exclusively  to  ^e 


fh^  riftigj-  who  instead  addressed 
.emancipation  of  the  ipHivif|iia1.  "  I  seek  truth,"  he  said,  "  and 
find  It  at  tunes  m  Catholic  propositions,  and  at  times  in  those  of 
the  Protestants."    From  the  enlightenment  of  the  individual  he 

PYp^rtpH  tll^t  ^^^^'gimiS  f*ff  w^l  as  socjal  reform  ^niilH  t^Mt^ntix. 

ally  issuje.  Without  violence,  through  the  working  of  mind  upon 
mind,  the  new  culture  would  gradually  and  silently  change  the 
Church.  Under  its  benign  influence  superstition  would  disap* 
pear,  the  external  things  of  religious  practice,  such  as  fasts,  pil- 
grimages and  ascetic  penances,  would  be  relegated  to  the 
forgotten  past,  creeds  that  are  impossible  of  reconciliation  witli 
reason  would  vanish,  simplicity  would  be  restored  to  public  wor- 
ship, and  religion,  thus  born  anew,  would  become  essentially 
moral  and  practical.  The  JadlfilejevU  of  the  time  he  thought  was 
due  to  ipiorance,^  To  this  prince  oFletters  meri  in  all  parts  of 
EQrdpe  turned  for  guidance  in  the  journey  from  the  cloisters 
of  the  Middle  Ages  to  the  light  of  an  ampler  world.  His  work 
of  education  took  the  form  of  writing.  In  all  his  books,  even 
in  his  prefaces  and  his  notes  to  the  books  of  others  which  he 
edited,  one  finds,  mingled  with  genial  wit  and  with  penetrating 
satire  upon  conspicuous  follies,  the  same  appeal  for  truth,  tem- 
perate procedure,  and  for  tolerance.    His  writings,  therefore^ 


HUMANISM  AND  HERESY 


» 


_    > 


~f- 


>rk 


J 


\ 

I 

( 


possess  a  deq>  and  undying  human  significance  far  above  any  ^^ 
connection  they  may  have  had  with  the  controversies  of  their  U5i 
day. 

Among  the  more  remarkable  of  his  works  the  ^dag££^is  first 
in  point  of  time,  though  the  first  edition  of  the  book,  which  was  Th« 
published  in  1500,  was  only  the  germ  of  what  the  work  after-  ^^ 
wards  came  to  be.  In  its  final  form  it  is  a  collection  of  4,251 
r^rt^^  apH  Tjitin  pr^yprhQ  tViaf  arp  explained  and  enforced  with 
discursive  commentary.  AncienTTtterature  seems  to  have  been 
ransacked  for  the  adages  themselves  and  also  for  matter  for 
their  elucidation.  When  they  were  first  given  to  the  public 
they  were  devoured  with  gfreat  avidity. 

In  1 501  there  appeared  the  Enchiridion  Militis  Christiani,  the 

{  Dagger  of  the  Christian  Knight,  in  which  Erasmus  first  gave  to  Th« 
the  world  his  general  ideas  of  Christianity.  "  T  w^nte  the  pf|-  gjj^ 
chiridion"  he  said,  " to  remedy  the^ error  which  makes  religion  xnii 

cef^pnies  and  an  observance  prSfl2^|^J:s^^]wmle 
T^ygli^^pg  tni^  pietv.''  The  Church,  he  said,  neededf  greall^ 
to  be  purged  of  formalism.  Behind  her  ceremonies  there  is  a 
truth,  but  it  is  a  truth  only  too  easily  and  frequently  lost  to 
view.  "The  best  way  in  which  to  adore  the  saints,"  he  said, 
"  is  to  imitate  their  virtues.  The  saint  cares  more  for  this  kind 
of  reverence  than  for  a  hundred  candles  that  may  be  burned  be- 
fore his  shrine/'  It  is  a  little  book  of  practical  piety,  simply 
and  deeply  ethical,  intended  to  be  a  devotional  manual. 

A  book  that  added  very  greatly  to  the  author's  reputation  is 
Ihe  Praise  of  Folly ^  published  in  151 1,  and  based  upon  his  ex-  The; 

;  periences  in  Italy.  In  that  country,  as  elsewhere,  he  had  seen  •"* 
not  a  little  of  the  degenerate  condition  of  the  monastic  orders; 

[        but  more  particularly  in  Italy  he  had  come  into  contact  with  the 

>  new  paganism;  he  had  met  scholars  who  outwardly  conformed 
to  the  practices  of  the  Church  and  profited  by  its  endowments 
while  in  their  hearts  they  disbelieved  its  fundamental  doctrines. 
Everywhere  among  the  cultured  clergy  he  found  at  the  most  only 
an  eviscerated  Christianity;  and  the  flatteries  of  those  accom- 
plished Ciceronians  failed  to  overthrow  his  dissatisfaction  and 
his  disgust ;  for  Erasmus  was  a  Christian  as  well  as  a  humanist ; 
he  was  not  content  to  study  the  classics  for  their  own  sake;  he 
desired  to  devote  the  new  learning  to  the  cause  of  religious  re- 
form. The  book  was  illustrated  by  Holbein;  and  so  great  was 
the  demand  for  it  that  it  went  through  twenty-seven  large  edi- 
tions in  the  lifetime  of  the  author.  In  polished  and  easy-flow- 
ing phrases,  with  sparkling  wit  and  graceful  yet  caustic  satire. 
Folly  claims  with  ostentatious  pride  the  degenerate  monks,  the 


THE  PROTESTANT  REVOLUTION 


ORAP.  XX 
14M-1660 


TlMBlbU- 
ealStndlM 


TImOoI- 

loqniei 


Bnumui'i 
Solntton 
for  the 
Probloai 
oftheAfS 


narrow  theologians,  the  effete  scholastics,  bishops,  cardinab,  and 
popes,  as  her  offspring,  and  boasts  of  their  wonderful  deeds. 
The  things  that  were  amiss  in  the  State  were  not  spared.  Scorn 
id  upon  princes  as  well  as  upon  prelates  whose  deeds 
were  detrimental  to  tne  public  welfare.  All  these  darling  chil- 
dren of  Folly  are  sketched  with  an  unusual  power  of  humorous 
observation.  Europe  laughed  at  these  pictures  so  true  to  life, 
sketched  with  such  an  airy  grace,  and  bitten  in  with  such  a 
mordant  satire. 

In  1 516  Erasmus  gave  to  the  world  ^fj  ^i^'nti  r^f  fj^^  ynlgato-^ 
the  translation  of  the  Bible  into  Latin  by  St  Jerome,  which  had 
been  the  only  authorized  version  of  the  Scriptures  all  througii 
the  Middle  Ages,  and  also  his  edition  of  the  Greek  Testament 
In  those  days  there  were  not  so  many  early  manuscripts  of  the 
books  of  the  Bible  available  to  the  scholar  as  now,  and  the  gen- 
eral knowledge  of  the  value  of  such  manuscripts  and  the  ability 
to  use  them  were  not  so  great  as  at  present.  But  Erasmus  ex- 
amined all  the  manuscripts  he  could  find  and  gave  the  results 
of  his  study  to  the  world.  His  edition  of  the  Greek  Testament 
was  accompanied  by  a  new  translation  into  Latin  which  differed 
in  important  details  from  the  Vulgate;  and  there  were  notes  in 
which  misinterpretations  and  misconceptions  that  had  gathered 
about  certain  passages  in  the  Vulgate  were  exposed.  It  was  his 
aim  to  ascertain  as  exactly  as  possible  wKat  the  writers  of  the 
New  Testament  had  actuaUy  written.  This  edition  of  the  Greek 
Testament  is  one  of  the  most  important  services  rendered  by  the 
classical  revival  to  the  cause  of  religious  reform. 

Last  of  the  books  of  Erasmus  that  we  shall  notice  is  the 
Cnllnqui^^  that  appeared  in  1521.  In  it  are  exposed  once  more 
the  ecclesiastical  abuses  of  the  time,  the  idleness  and  immorality 
of  the  monks,  and  the  prevalent  superstitions.  YotjAhJ^-Jvaias^ 
agaipst  racli  vowQ  ^f  f;fill^ry ;  and  the  ^sickedness  of  war  is 
dwelt  upon.  The  author's  power  of  witty  and  satirical  expres- 
sion is  again  evident,  the  brilliant  raillery,  and  the  keen  and  un- 
sparing criticism.  The  book  is  written  in  Latin  with  all  the 
author's  graceful  and  fluent  command  of  that  language ;  and  like 
the  other  productions  of  his  pen  it  was  read  far  and  wide. 

We  have  seen  something  of  the  widespread  influence  of  Eras- 
mus. He  was  nyngrpiy.|p|^  throughout  Europe  as  the  ohjcf  mac 
of  letters  of  hi^  time.  Latin  was  then  the  universal  language 
of  educated  men,  and  so  the  writings  of  the  great  humanist  were 
read  wherever  European  civilization  had  found  a  footing.  One 
should  not  leave  unnoticed  the  intense  earnestness  of  the  great 
writer,  the  courageous  persistency  with  which  he  maintained  his 


HUMANISM  AND  HERESY  221 


position  outside  the  two  great  camps,  and  the  devotion  to  learn-  ohaf^xi 
ing  that  led  him  to  decline  many  offers  that  would  have  afforded  1450-1560 
him  a  life  of  greater  ease  but  of  less  opportunity  for  literary 
work.  But  what  of  Erasmus's  fundamental  idea  that  the  abuses 
of  Church  and  State  could  safely  be  left  to  melt  away  before 
the  slow  approach  of  the  new  culture,  as  an  iceberg  detached 
from  some  continent  of  the  north  melts  away  in  the  kindlier  cur- 
rents of  a  warmer  sea?  It  seems  a  delusion.  A  delusion  to 
which  a  scholar,  one  whose  intellectual  activity  and  the  realiza- 
tion of  whose  ideals  required  both  inner  and  outward  peace, 
might  be  expected  to  become  subject.  The  appalling  conditions 
of  the  time  demanded  more  immediate,  more  direct,  and  more 
drastic  action.  Too  long  had  ^f'^f^v^  ^^^"  HgloygrL  The  dam 
was  breaking.  Already  were  the  floods  let  loose.  Old  bounds 
and  old  landmarks  were  being  swept  away.  A  life  of  quiet 
contemplation  was  impossible  in  the  keen  air  of  that  time.  Col- 
lisions that  resulted  in  bloodshed  were  already  occurring.  It 
was  no  time  for  the  harmonious  perfecting  of  the  individual. 
The  moods  of  men,  even  of  scholars,  were  too  greatly  affected 
by  the  daily  vicissitudes  of  life.  Such  a  program  of  silent  ero- 
sion, of  die  gradual  leavening  of  the  inert  mass  of  society,  as 
that  desired  by  Erasmus  was  impossible.  The  humanistic  ideals 
of  individual  culture  vanished  in  a  time  of  inevitable  warfare. 
Indeed,  the  yni^nggr  ggperatinn  ni  humanjsts  of  whom  Ulrich 
von  Hutten  is  the  most  conspicuous  example,  were  themselves 
given  over  to  the  policy  of  aggrre<;<si<;>p^     The  first  two  decades  of 

le  sixteenth  century  clearly  revealed  the  irreconcilable  oppo- 
sition of  the  old  and  the  new  ways  of  looking  at  the  world. 
Compromise  between  humanism  and  scholasticism  was  impossi- 
ble.    It  was  rejected  with  contempt.    Revolution  was  at  hand. 

Humanism  furthered  the  religious  revolution;  but  it  would 
be   a    superficial   view   to   think   that   it   was   the   sole   cause. 
Humanism  and  heresy  were  alike  the  result  of  the  Renaissance.  BtimoBof 
They  mutually  aided  each  other,  it  is  true;  but  they  were  sep-  2i2utc 
arate  and   independent.    Each   was   born   of   that   momentous  «»•  Ex- 
change in  human  affairs  that  we  speak  of  as  the  rebirth  of  man    •'^"•^ 
and  of  which  the  essence  was  the  revival  of  the  individual. 
Each,    in   its   own   way,    so   its   devotees   thought,    was   what 
Machiavelli  called  a  *'  ritorno  al  segno,"  a  return  to  the  original 
source.    H^n^anism  wa«^  ^  ^"^^1^"  19  ^bp  classical  attitude  tD-\ 
wards  life,  to  a  concern^with  the  present  world,  to  an  ideal  of    \ 
the  development  oTl^e  individual  who  is  free  to  think  and  free     ) 
to  act_  The  religious  reformers  desired  a  return  to  the  condi-  "/ 
tions  of  apostolic  times  for  the  cleansing  and  rejuvenescence  of  ' 


222  THE  PROTESTANT  REVOLUTION 


0^^^'  3n  religion.  They  built  upon  the  foundation  of  belief  in  the  Bible 
1460-1560  and  in  that  alone.  Reason  was  the  guide  pi  the  htimanjgf <^ ;  h^ 
Jief  that  ^L.th§  reformer^.  The  most  essential  condition  for  the 
fulfilment  of  die  ideal  of  humanism,  the  perfection  of  the  indi- 
vidual, was  that  of  free  will.  But  free  will  was  denied  by  the 
reformers.  They  declared,  as  we  shall  see,  that  salvation  de- 
pended entirely  upon  the  gratuitous  grace  of  God.  Sooner  or 
later,  therefore,  there  was  bound  to  come  a  parting  of  the  ways. 
But  before  the  separation  the  humanists  lent  substantial  aid  to 
the  heretics.  And  still  to-day  humanism  is  unceasingly  prepar- 
ing the  way  for  "  the  golden  heresy  of  truth/' 


CHAPTER  XII 

THE  GERMAN   REVOLT  FROM   ROME 

1.  Martin  Luther. 

2.  The  Dispute  about  Indulgences. 

3.  Luther's  Break  with  Rome. 

4.  The  Diet  of  Worms. 

5.  The  Heretic  in  Hiding. 

6.  The  Open  Revolt 

IF  ever  there  was  an  accidental  reformer,  ever  a  man  who  had  obap. 
no  intention  of  turning  the  world  upside  down,  it  was  Mar-  ^° 
tin  Luther.  A  peasant's  son,  born  at  Eisleben,  on  November  10,  i*88-i60B 
1483,  a  little  village  far  removed  from  the  current  of  new  thought 
that  made  so  varied  the  activity  of  Augsburg  and  Nuremberg,  he 
had  no  share  in  the  belief  common  jto  jnany  o£  the  mystics  and  LntiMr'i 
"humanists  of  the^ung  that  the  blame  fon  the  deplorable  condi^  sojboo* 
tions^f  the  age  lay  with  the  leading  classes  in  wealth  acid  aur 
thority^and  that  7rom  the  common  folk  only  could  reform  be 
expected  to  come.  His  father  was  a  hard-headed,  practical 
burgher  who  cherished  the  ambition  that  his  son,  a  promising 
lad,  should  begin  where  he  himself  had  been  obliged  to  stop. 
So  when  Luther  was  fourteen  years  of  age  he  was  sent  to  school 
at  Magdeburg,  a  prosperous  Hansa  town,  where  he  remained 
for  a  year.  Then  he  went  to  Eisenach,  where  he  had  the  good 
fortune,  while  singing  in  the  streets  to  earn  his  way,  to  win  the 
favor  of  Frau  Cotta,  a  lady  of  gentle  birth,  who  took  him  to  live 
in  her  house.  In  his  eighteenth  year  he  was  sent  to  the  Uni- 
versity of  Erfurt.  Here,  too,  as  at  Magdeburg  and  Eisenach, 
his  father  insisted  that,  in  part  at  least,  he  should  earn  his  way. 
By  this  time  Luther  was  a  sturdy  lad,  fond  of  books,  though  not 
so  fond  of  them,  perhaps,  that  he  would  have  gone  forward 
without  his  father's  push.  He  was  fond  of  society,  too,  of 
music,  and  of  the  students'  festivities,  and  withal  soundly  moral 
and  pious.  Erfurt,  it  is  true,  was  a  center  of  humanism,  but 
with  its  brilliant  circle  of  scholars  Luther  seems  to  have  come 
into  contact  only  very  slightly. 

Against  the  wishes  of  his  father,  who  desired  Jbim  to  become 
a  lawyer,  Luther^.  io_.LSS>5^en.tereQ  the  Augustiniaii_  cpnvent.  at 
EHurt    What  induced  him  to  take  this  step?    Several  cx- 

223 


THE  PROTESTANT  REVOLUTION 


1506-08 


temal  reasons  have  been  given,  but  it  seems  certain  that  whether 
it  was  the  immediate  outcome  of  a  thunder-storm  or  the  deadi 
of  a  friend,  or  neither,  there  came,  as  a  result  of  a  profound 
impression  of  his  own  sinfulness,  a  resolution  to  set  himself  ri^ 
with  God.    There  was  nothing  unusual  in  this.    It  is  a  pcr- 

W]^_        fectly  normal  phenomenon  of  healthful  youth,  now  made  a  mat- 
ter of  common  knowledge  by  the  study  of  the  psychology  of 
religious  awakening.    Very  often  in  the  age  of  adolescence  a 
profound  change  comes  over  the  entire  personality.    The  life 
of  emotion  and  of  will  seeks  its  expression  in  activity.    Latent 
ideas,  of  which  hitherto  the  consciousness  has  had  but  a  dim 
apprehension,  assume  more  definite  significance  and  become  a 
controlling  factor  in  the  life  and  character  of  the  individual. 
It  is  at  this  time,  when  the  organism  is  strained  by  the  physio- 
logical readjustments  that  are  taking  place,  that  the  majority 
of  the  instantaneous  "  conversions  "  occur.    There  was  only  one 
way  at  that  time  in  which  one  could  hope  to  make  oneself  alto- 
getfier  acceptable  in  the  eyes  of  God  and  to  secure  the  boon  of 
inward  peace,  and  that  was  by  adopting  the  life  contemplative. 
A  boy  left  to  himself  and  beset  with  the  sense  of  sin,  especially 
if  the  monastery  door  was  left  open,  as  it  was  sure  to  be  to  a 
boy  of  promise,  would  be  very  likely  to  seek  the  shelter  of  the 
cloister.    So  Luther  took  the  vow  to  lead  an  ascetic  life.    He 
remembered  only  that  His  are  those  who  love  naught  else,  not 
even  the  joy  of  student  life,  or  power,  or  the  ambition  of  parents, 
so  well  as  His  will.    It  was  not  theology  that  led  him  to  take 
the  irrevocable  step.    Theology  in  itself  had  no  attraction  for 
him.     It  was  religion.     So  Luther  entered  the  convent  of  the 
Augustinian  friars,  a  preaching  order,  and  there  he  was  given 
the  humblest  duty,  that  of  begging.     He  had  no  theory  for  re- 
forming the  world.    He  had  simply  decided  to  try  the  accepted 
means  of  reforming  himself. 

In  1508  Luther  went  to  teach  at  the  University  of  Witten- 
berg, which  had  opened  its  doors  only  six  years  previously. 
About  three  years  later  he  set  out  for  Rome.  When  for  the 
first  time  he  saw  beneath  him  the  great  dome  of  the  city  and 
the  many  towers  he  fell  on  his  knees  exclaiming,  "  IJ^il,  holy 
Rome!    Thrice  holy  place  where  the  blood  of  the  martyrs  was 

The  vsiit  ^hedr"  1  here  had  been  much  to^^uThis  adtni.ration  on  his  way 
through  Italy.  The  fertile  soil,  the  genial  climate,  the  well- 
paved  streets,  the  spacious  architecture,  the  clean  and  orderly 
hospitals  and  foundling  asylums,  and  the  splendor  of  the  civic 
life.  But  soon  in  his  walks  from  the  Augustinian  convent  of 
Santa  Maria  del  Popolo  to  the  various  shrines  of  the  papal  city 


l«Bom« 


THE  GERMAN  REVOLT  FROM  ROME  225 

he  saw  many  things  that  filled  his  heart  with  dismay.  About 
the  pope,  Julius  II,  there  fluttered  a  throng  of  gay  and  thought- 
less courtiers.  Everywhere  he  saw  the  extravagant  expendi-  ^•••^^ 
ture  in  worldly  things  of  the  princes  of  the  Church,  and  noted 
the  general  laxity  of  life.  He  returned  to  Wittenberg  as  de- 
voted as  ever  to  the  Mother  Church;  but  as  time  gave  him 
opportunity  for  reflection  upon  the  things  he  had  heard  and  wit- 
nessed at  the  capital  of  Christendom,  as  the  city  pf  saints  grad- 
ually vanished,  there  stood  beforja  him  _Rpme  the  center  gf 
corruptiog!  bome"  months  after  he  returned  to  Wittenberg  he 
was  graduated  in  theology  and  became  a  somewhat  noted 
teacher,  and  a  far  more  famous  preacher.  In  common  wSh 
other  earnest  men  oFtfie  time  he  called  attention  to  the  prevalent 
ecclesiastical  evils,  one  of  the  principal  ones  of  which  was  the 

abuse  of  the  sale  of  indulgences.  - 

What  is  an  indulgence?  Every  sin,  so  the  Catholic  Church 
holds,  entails  two  consequences— £uilt  and  punishment.  Guilt  Th§ 
is  the  stain  upontEe  soul.  It  can  be  removed  only  by  genuine  SJ^** 
contritioyip  the  ac^  of  confessiog^  and  a  sincere  purpose  .to  ameSd 
his  ways  in  the  future,  on  the  part  of  the  sinner,  and  by  the 
absolution  given  by  the  priest  in  the  sacrament  of  confession. 
After  the  guilt  has  thus  been  removed  the  punishment  still  re- 
mains. ^iin^<^^mpnt  may  be  undergone  by  the  penitent  either 
in  thj§  world  orjn_2urgatory.  Only  when  every  stain,  all  guilt, 
is  washed  away  from  the  soul,  and  all  the  punishment  that  has 
been  incurred  has  been  fulfilled,  is  it  possible  to  enter  the  king- 
dom of  heaven.  When  Christ  underwent  the  sacrifice  of  the 
cross  more  merit  resulted  than  was  necessary  to  save  those  who 
had  lived  upon  earth  up  to  that  time.  This  superabundant  merits 
was  increased  by  that  which  resulted  from  the  life  of  Mary,  the 
mother  of  Christ,  and  it  is  still  further  and  constantly  augmented 
by  those  saints  whose  lives  have  been  such  as  to  enable  them  to 
earn  merit  more  than  sufficient  for  their  own  salvation.  This 
store  of  supererogatory  merit  is  in  the  keeping  of  the  Church. 

It  can  be  dispensed^bjr^ means, of  jnd"^gfflyestj^^  ^^  discretion 
of  Christ's  vicar  upon  earth,  the  Pope.  There  are  two  kinds 
of  indulgences,  partial  anf^  pl<^naty  A  partial  indulgence  is  a 
remission  of  a  part  of  the  penance  incurred  up  to  that  tune  by 
the  penitent  sinner;  and  a  plenary  indulgence  is  a  remission  of 
all  the  punishment  that  has  thus  far  been  incurred  by  the  con- 
trite oflFender.  Indulgences  were  granted  for  prayers,  pilgrim- 
ages, and  other  good  works,  and.  later  on,  for  money.  Such  is 
the  theory  of  indulgences,  a  theory  which  as  yet  has  not  been 
authoritatively  defined  by  the  Church. 


226 


THE  PROTESTANT  REVOLUTION 


1608.17 

T]M8al« 
of  Indiil- 

gUMM 


lAthcr'a 

Omtnl 

Dottiixm 


Like  many  another  theory  this  doctrine  of  indulgences  is 
capable  of  abuse  in  practice.    And  that  it  was  grossly  abused 
in  Luther's  time  there  is  no  doubt    So  many  frauds  of  all  kinds 
were  connected  with  the  sale  of  indulgences  that  an  outbreak 
against  them  was  inevitable.    Great  numbers  of  the  sellers  of 
pardons  were  like  the  one  described  for  us  so  vividly  by  Chau- 
cer,  intent  upon  personal  gain  rather  than  upon  the  cure  of 
souls.    Leo  X  needed  money  for  the  completion  of  the  great 
church  of  St.  Peter  at  Rome,  which  was  begun  in  1506.    So 
he  issued  a  plenary  indulgence,  the  price  of  which  was  to  vary 
from  twenty-five  golden  gulden  for  the  well-to-do  to  the  say- 
ing of  prayers  and  the  keeping  of  fasts  for  the  wretchedly  poor. 
For  the  purpose  of  the  sale  Germany  was  divided  intO-Jfarec 
f|i«;t^irtfi.  at  the  head  of  one  of  which  was  the  Archbi^op^ 
Mainz,  primate  of  Germany  and  arch-chancellor  ot  the  Em^t, 
^^suyouYh  of  some  twenty-six  years.    The  profits  of  the  sale  were 
to  be  equally  divided  between  the  pope  and  the  archbishop.    So 
it  is  quite  natural  that  the  latter  prelate  should  look  about  for  an 
effective  seller  of  pardons.    He  chose  John  Tetzel>  a  Dominican 
friar,  a  man  of  commanding  appearance,  with  a  sonorous  voice 
and  a  ready  tongue,  who,  like  those  ministers  and  laymen  to-day 
who  go  about  from  church  to  church  raising  debts,  had  gained 
a  reputation  as  a  preacher  of  indulgence^. 

It  was  the  consciousness  of  sin  that  had  driven  Luther  into 
the  convent.  There  he  sought,  by  the  time-honored  ascetic 
means,  by  the  zealous  performance  of  penances  and  good  works, 
to  obtain  the  inward  peace  for  which  he  longed  with  all  his 
soul.  But  the  sense  of  peace  which  he  craved  so  ardently  seemed 
ever  to  retreat  in  the  distance  before  him,  like  a  mirage  in  the 
desert,  till  at  last  he  came  upon  the  doctrine  of  justification  ^v 
faith  alone.  What  is  this  doctrine,  and  how  did  he  comt  upon 
it?  T^der  the  guidance  of  the  good  and  wise  Johaim  von 
Staupitz,  vicar  of  the  Augustinian  order  in  Germany,  Luther 
read  not  only  The  Imitation  of  Christ  but  also  the  writings  of 
St.  Augustine,  among  the  Fathers  of  the  Church,  and  those  of 
St.  Paul  in  the  New  Testament.  It  was  in  these  writings,  pari- 
ticularly  in  those  of  St.  Augustine,  that  he  became  aware  of  the 
doctrine  that  was  to  Seethe  startmg  point  of  Protestantisnu  The 
authority  of  St.  Augustine  was  all-powerful  during  the  Middle 
Ages.  Yet  it  was  in  his  name  that  Luther  rose  against  the 
medieval  .Church.  This  contradictory  influence  of  the  greatest 
of  the  Fathers  of  the  Church  is  to  be  explained  by  the  fact  that 
in  his  writings  there  are  two  points  of  view.  The  practical  aim 
of  his  teaching  is  humility,  the  entire  subordination  of  the  will 


THE  GERMAN  REVOLT  FROM  ROME  227 


of  the  indmdual  to  God.  In  the  Middle  Ages  the  Church  and 
God  were  inextricably  associated  in  the  minds  of  men.  The 
unquestioning  htunility  inculcated  by  St.  Augustine  ended,  there-  ^•^••*^ 
fore,  in  giving  to  the  Church  an  unlimited  sway  over  the  minds 
of  men.  But  among  his  theoretical  writings  is  to  be  found  the 
PaiilineiE5)iy '  that  salvatioh  comes  to  the  individual  as  a_ 

gratuitous  gif^Of  God,  that  whatpypf  j^an  may  HqJjp  ran  npv#>r 

himself  earn  eternal  IiiFe,  that^  that  is  necessary  in  order  to 
^in  adfniSion  mtoThe  kingdom  of  heaven  is  to  have  faith  in 
Christ  and  fiis  power  to  save^mw^     All  through  the  Middle 
AgesTTiowevef,  the  Church  recommended  certain  acts  such  as 
fasting,  pilgrimages,  the  giving  of  alms,  and  the  obtaining  of 
indulgences,  as  being  in  a  high  degree  meritorious,  as  being  very 
largely  efficacious  in  helping  to  effect  the  salvation  of  the  soul. 
The  two  doctrines  are  irreconcilable.    The  doctrine  of  justifica- 
tion by  faith  alone  leads,  in  the  end,  to  the  annihilation  of  man 
before  God.    "  Free  will,"  said  Luther,  "  is  a  fiction,  a  word 
that  has  no  reality  corresponding  to  it."    The  doctrine  of  salva- 
tion by  faith  and  works,  on  the  other  hand,  leads,  eventually,  to 
the  recognition  of  the  liberty  of  man  and  the  efficacy  of  his  own 
deeds.    But  it  did  not  lead  to  liberty  in  the  Middle  Ages  be- 
cause the  Church  claimed  the  right  to  determine  what  works  were 
necessary  to  salvation  and  also  the  right  to  control  them.    The 
Church  quickly  recognized  that  with  the  acceptancej)f  the  joe- . 
trme  of  justificationby.iaitll  alone,  which,  for  the  most  part,  had 
remained  dormant,  an  esoteric  dogma,  throughout  the  medieval 
period,  hfit^  entire  sacramental  system  would  be  rendered  gn- 
necessary.    it  was  mcompatibJe  with  her  claim  to  loose  and  to 
md.    It  would  make  men  independent  of  her  aid  and  her 
direction.    It  left  them  slaves  before  God,  it  is  true ;  but  it  made 
them  free  before  men.    So  she  opposed  it  in  the  most  uncom- 
promising manner.    Thus  arose  the  great  question  of  salvation 
that  preoccupied  the  minds  of  thinking  men  in  the  sixteenth 
century.    How  shall  a  man  be  saved?    The  Catholics  answered:  .  v 
fcy  faith  and^workj.    The  Protestanfa  replied :  by  faith  alone.   \  \ 
In  any  judgment  that  may  be  passed  tipon  either" or  upon  Bbtfi 
of  these  two  positions  it  must  be  remembered  that  all  through 
the  Nfiddle  Ages  the  performance  of  meritorious  works,  pre- 
scribed exclusively  by  the  Church,  had  usurped  so  dominant  a 
place  as  very  largely  to  exclude  the  element  of  personal  faith; 
and  that  in  die  period  of  the  great  Revolution  the  opposing  doc- 
trine proved  a  most  effective  weapon  with  which  to  combat  that 
usurpation. 
Luther,  as  we  have  seen,  sought  in  vain  through  the  perform- 


2a6 


THE  PROTESTANT  REVOLUTION 


1608-17 


How  did 
IiQtlitr 
008M  by 
Ids  Doe- 
tdno? 


OBAF,     ance  of  ascetic  works  to  gain  the  inward  peace,  the  sense  of 
being  acceptable  in  the  eyes  of  God,  that  he  desired  so  ardently. 
The  sense  of  alienation  was  still  strong  upon  him.    The  con- 
sciousness of  communion,  that  other  of  the  two  poles  between 
which  religion  oscillates,  was  as  yet  far  from  his  possession. 
But  the  very  sense  of  want  that  he  felt,  the  feeling  of  dissatis- 
faction, lies  near  to  the  heart  of  religion.    It  is  a  recognition  of 
one's  weakness  of  unfitness  and  the  desire  to  harmonize  one's 
life  with  the  unchanging  laws  of  the  tmiverse.    Perhaps  he  came 
to  the  belief  that  the  one  thing  needful  was  to  have  faith  in 
the  atoning  sacrifice  of  Christ  as  a  result  of  his  own  ^iritual 
struggles  and  mental  anguish,  and  was  merely  confirmed  in  it 
by  the  writings  of  St.  Augustine  and  by  the  Commentary  of 
Lefevre^  the  French  humanist,  on  the  Pauline  Epistles.    But, 
by  whatever  road  he  had  traveled,  that  was  the  goal  at  which 
he  had  arrived.    Before  him  stood  the  appealing  figure  of  Christ 
with  the  promise  of  reconciliation  with  the  Father  upon  the  one 
condition   of   absolute   faith.    His    faith  reached  out   for   the 
promise  and  all  was  consummated.    There  was  no  more  to  be 
done;  salvation  was  assured.    Such  was  Luther's  discovery  or 
resuscitation  of  t^f  A^y^*'^^'"'^"  H/v>»rit^#>  rxf  j^stip^aj 
alone.    He  did  not  carry  it  to  its  logical  conclusion,  for  his 
not  essentially  a  logical  mind.    He  did  not  sweep  away  in  itsj 
entirety  the  sacramental  system  which  it  renders  unnecessary.! 
Instead,  later  on,  he  effected  a  compromise,  as  all  such  natures 
do,  and  reduced  th<"  Rari^pf^p^<t  fy^m  s^ypn  tn  three.    He  foundj 
peace  in  the  new  conception.    The  ^^agdgSS  ?"tTflSP^^'^"i  ^^m 
pursuing  sense  nf  <i^'n,  came  ^^  ^"  **"^   ^^^  had  found  the  way  J 
or  salvation.    And  like  the  boy  that  he  still  was  he  set  himself 
with  all  his  heart  to  tell  others  of  it.    He  did  not  realize  as  yet 
that  his  teaching  would  be  contradictory  to  the  position  of  the 
Church.     He  did  not  dream  of  dividing  the  seamless  robe  of 
Christ.    He  was  not  by  nature  a  theologian,  and  he  never  made 
a  thorough  study  of  the  theology  of  the  time.    The  one  thing  of 
which  he  was  definitely  convinced  was  that  things  had  been  made 
too  complex,  and  that  he  had  found  a  way  to  simplify  them. 

Suddenly  there  appeared  upon  the  horizon  the  figure  of  John 
Tetzel,  the  preacher  of  indulgences.  Stories  of  his  unscrupulous 
methods  had  preceded  him,  and  doubtless  they  had  not  grown 

Tho  Nino,  pale  with  travel.  The  Elector  of  Saxony  declined  to  admit  him 
to  his  territory,  and  the  bishop  did  not  approve  of  him.  Out  of 
loyalty  to  his  superiors,  and  to  his  own  general  line  of  thought, 

^^tifcy   Luther  decided  to  protest  against  the  abuses  connected  with  in- 
'^^4-ieto*dulgences.    He  had  not  as  yet  arrived  at  his  final  position  of  the 

1  "-^'f^' 


TbOMl 


THE  GERMAN  REVOLT  FROM  ROME  229 


complete  dispensability  of  works,  and  so  he  did  not  deny  the     ^'3^* 

usefulness    of    indulgences    when    properly    conducted.    There      

would  be  a  great  gathering  on  the  feast  of  All  Saints  at  Witten-  ^^•••i^ 
herg,  when  the  thousands  of  relics  acctunulated  by  the  elector 
would  be  solemnly  exposed  in  the  castle  church.  Why  not 
seize  the  opportunity  of  a  public  discussion  of  the  matter?  So 
on  the  preceding  day,  October  31,  15 17,  after  the  fashion  of  his 
time,  he  nailed  to  the  door  of  the  church  a  crude  and  evidently 
not  well-digested  set  of  theses,  which  seem  to  have  been  already 
printed,  set  forth  in  Latin,  and  sent  a  copy  of  them  to  the  Arch- 
bishop of  Mainz,  who  forwarded  them  to  the  pope.  It  does  not 
appear  that  any  one  accepted  the  challenge  to  discuss  the  theses; 
but,  translated  into  German  and  circulated  in  printed  form,  they 
aroused  a  surprising  amount  of  pc^tdar  interest.  Scores  of  men, 
in  a  far  more  effective  way,  throughout  many  years  had  pro- 
tested against  the  abuses  of  indulgences.  Why,  then,  did  Lu- 
ther's theses  create  such  a  stir?  The  reason  why  popular  excite- 
ment was  so  quickly  generated  was  that  the  fuel  was  ready  for 
the  flame.    The  leader  for  whom  Germany  had  Ipng  been  wait« 

idolgences  were  an  accepted  item  of  papal  revenue.  Leo  X 
a  member  of  the  Medicean  family  of  bankers.  He  was  not 
"^disposed  to  curtail  the  income  of  the  curia  by  restricting  the 
sale  of  indulgences.  In  15 18  he  summoned  Luther  to  Rome. 
tut  the  Saxon  preacher  desired  to  be  allowed  to  defend  himself 
in  Germany,  and,  with  the  aid  of  his  protector,  Frederick  the  ThePa- 
fWise  of  Saxony,  such  an  arrangement  was  made.  A  meeting  SiL^JL^ 
tnok  pH^ce  at  Augsburg  |>etw^nLuthei^affd  the  papaT  legate, 
ardinal  Cajetan,  a  Dominican  JEriar.  Cajetan  demaa4^-.U0- 
rnn ji(j^yyu^^  f^r^n^ftnn  Luther  asked  for  a  properly  conducted 
trial.  When  it  was  evident  that  no  agreement  was  possible 
Luther  left  the  town  secretly,  at  night-time,  and  returned  to 
♦  Wittenberg.  The  next  event  of  importance  was  the  disputation 
(^^j^Xfiipsig,  which  took  place  in  the  following  year,  and  in  which 
i£ck,  Carlstadt,  and  Luther  were  engaged.  Eck,  the  learned 
Vice-chancellor  of  tngolstadt^  was  a  bom  disputant,  greatly  skilled 
in  all  the  niceties  of  the  scholastics.  Andrew  Bodenstein, 
usually  called  Carlstadt,  was  a  teacher  in  the  University  of  Wit- 
tenberg. The  debate  was  not  confined  to  the  subject  of  indul- 
gences, but  included  many  other  points.  The  religious  views 
with  which  Luther's  brain  was  seething  were  by  no  means  clearly 
defined  and  well  formulated  at  this  time.  They  had  yet  to  be 
"  beaten  out  on  the  anvil  of  disputation."  In  the  course  of  the 
discussion  Eck  succeeded  in  extracting  from  Luther  the  asser- 


230 


THE  PROTESTANT  REVOLUTION 


1518-20 


Lnther'f 
DeflAnoe: 
the  Books 

AllAtlM 

Bonllrt 


tion  that  general  councils  of  the  Church  are  subject  to  error  and 
that  they  have  fallen  into  error  in  the  past    With  this  dedan- 
tion  the  breach,  as  Eck  at  once  perceived,  became  irreparable. 
The  Church  holds  herself  to  be  ever  one  and  the  same  guardian 
of  divine  truth ;  that  at  every  time  she  possesses  the  faith  in  all 
its  fullness ;  and  that  its  principles  are  only  **  defined/'  that  is, 
fixed  intelligibly,  as  often  as  necessity  arises.    The  net  results  of 
the  disputation  were  that  Luther  obtained  a  clearer  understand- 
ing of  his  own  views  which  up  to  this  time  had  been  slowly 
fermenting,  that  the  belief  that  his  own  views  accorded  with  the 
position  of  the  Church  was  revealed  as  a  delusion,  and  that  two 
distinct  parties  began  to  form  themselves  in  Germany.    "The 
die  is  cast,"  said  Luther,  '*  I  despise  the  fury  and  favor  oC 
Rome;  I  will  never  be  reconciled  to  them  nor  commune  witl^ 
them."    On  June  15,  1520,  the  bull  Exsurtje  Domine  was  issued.^ 
It  condemned  forty-one  articles  taken  from  the  works  of  Luther,^ 
ordered  all  his  books  to  be  burned,  fc>rbade_him.tO-Pl^£h»  and 
comnmnded   him^   under. fain  JTf  „f!:j!^mnr""^^^fi>",   »»   *'*"^t?*^ 
within  si^y-d^:jL 

'  Before  the  appearance  of  the  bull  in  Germany,  Luther  knew 
that  proceedings  were  being  instituted  against  him  at  Rome, 
and  probably  he  expected  that  adverse  action  would  be  taken. 
But  he  must  have  been  encouraged  to  face  the  issue  by^the  knowl- 
edge that  the  g^eat  bulk  of  public  opinion  favored  religious  re- 
form, and  that  the  determination  of  the  Germans  to  resist  the 
exactions  of  the  papal  curia  was  constantly  increasing.  Before 
he  learned  of  the  issue  of  the  bull  against  him  he  put  forth  the 
first  of  his  great  publications.  To  the  Christian  Nobility  ,oiJbe 
German  Nation,  The  book  is  an  arraignment  of  the  entire 
hierarchical  structure,  and  a  stirring  appeal  to  his  countrymen  to 
put  an  end  to  the  wrongs  from  which  Germany  had  suffered  so 
long.  Luther  denied  the  distinction  between  the  clergy  and  jhe 
laity  .^  Every  Christian  man,  he  said,  is  a  priest.  He  dgniedthe 
claim  of  the  Church  to  the  exclusive  right  to  interpret  the  Bjbl^. 
Interpretation,  he  said,  is  the  right  of  every  individual  who  has 
accepted  the  Christian  faith.  He  denied  the  claim  of  the  poge 
to  the  sole  right  to  convoke  a  general  council.^  Such  a  right,  he 
said,  rests  witFTtHe"  Church  at  large.  Here,  in  brief,  were  the 
main  lines  of  the  religious  system  that  he  afterwards  advocated. 
And  in  simple  and  fervid  words,  with  directness  and  with  ear- 
nestness, he  pointed  out  the  abuses  and  the  oppression  under 
which  Germany  had  suffered  so  long,  and  indicated  a  definite 
line  of  reform.  He  spoke  as  a  prophet,  with  all  the  burden  of 
his  country  stirring  his  heart  to  passionate  indignation,  and  as  a 


THE  GERMAN  REVOLT  FROM  ROME  231 

practical  guide  who  saw  a  way  to  better  things.    It  was  the     ^^^y* 
trumpet  blast  of  the  Ecclesiastical  Revolution.  

Soon  after  Luther  knew  the  contents  of  the  bull  against  him  *•*•■•• 
he  issued  a  second  pamphlet,  Ok  th^  Rgpylonl^h  rnpti^fity  ^f 
fhf  Churth^  intended  primarily  for  theologians  and  scholars. 
He  had  been  greatly  encouraged  by  the  popular  support  he 
had  received  in  all  quarters.  The  hour  for  revolt  had  come  at 
last,  and  Luther,  made  so  by  his  intensity  and  simplicity,  was 
the  man  for  the  hour.  He j\va«t  a  hnm  paH-y  If^^frj  seeing  only 
one  side  of  the  question,  seeing  it  simply  and  strongly,  and 
possessing  the  ability  to  present  his  ideas  in  a  way  that  all  who 
heard  could  understand.  In  this  second  blow  that  he  struck  at 
the  papal  system  he  accepted  some  of  the  logical  consequences  ol 
Ris  doctrine  of  justification  by  faith  alone.  All  things  that  st^d 
in  the  wav  of  the  direct  relation  of  man  to  Christ  should  be  dis- 
carded. So  he  abolished  the  sacraments  with  the  exception  ot 
three  —  baptism,  penance,  and  communion.  And  the  Church^ . 
he  again  insisted,  does  not  consist  of  the  clergy  superimposed 
upon  the  laity,  but  is  made  up  of  all  bfli^y[y}g  rViri'ct^,Qc 

The  last  of  the  three  g^eat  books  that  Luther  issued  in  1520 
is  the  little  tractate  On  the  Freedom  nf  a  Chri^jaf^  Man.  In 
a  direct  and  simple  way  it  deals  With  fKe^  daily  life  of  the  Cht?s- 
tian  man.  It  develops  still  further  the  individualism  whicfi^ls 
the  outcome  of  his  basic  doctrine  of  justification ;  and  it  rounded 
out  the  publication  of  his  views.    Tn  thf  first  QJ  thesp  thr_ff_ 

books   he  st^ke  as  a    ctatpgtnan,    i|]   ^Vip   ^^t;}r}(\   as  a  thenlogjan- 

fflvl  ^n  >'^^^^rf1  aff  a  map.  The  books  are  stamped  with  all  the 
zharacteristics  of  his  future  utterances.  They  have  the  same 
Sery  language  and  unrestrained  passion,  the  same  ardent  and  im- 
?etuous  spirit,  and  the  same  striking  contrasts  between  the  gross 
ind  the  sublime.  In  fhese  three  hoi>|fft  the  Lutheran  revolt  was 
mmistakably  declared;  for  in  them  he  disowned  t^^  ** r|i^rarter 
ifijjelehiliR  *>  9f  the  pri^^  and  djy^rded  t^f  ni(?di^Val  l^^v^""^ 

^f^jl^e  sarramentR  and  ^^"'^  ^rt^^f^A  a  c/^tii'cm  hcyond  repair.^ 
[jEilvin,  with  all  his  subtlety,  merely  completed  the  separation. 
For  some  time  bonfires  had  been  made  of  Luther's  books,  in 
iccordance  with  the  papal  command,  but  there  had  been  fre- 
quent and  unmistakable  expressions  of  hostility  on  the  part  of 
:he  people  to  the  papal  authority.  Encouraged  by  such  evidences 
>f  pc^ular  support  Luther  decided  to  retaliate  in  a  similar  man- 
ler.  So  on  the  morning  of  December  10,  I520j.m  the  prpseaor^ 
>f_n[jronroiinK>  ^f  stndf^nt*?  and  tnwnsf5>.1kx  he  .CQnuni^<^  to.  the 
flnnip^  thl^  rff mt  ^"IS  and  a  rnllfftinn  nf  thr  rannn  law  It  was 
1  bold  and  dramatic  event,  and  it  won  the  applause  not  only  of 


232 


THE  PROTESTANT  REVOLUTION 


OBAP. 


1081 


TlM  Dtol 
of  Wonns 

ADA  It! 

(Inefttoiia 


bffortllit 
DM 


the  assembled  students  but  of  the  greater  part  of  Germany* 
When  Luther  lit  the  fire  that  burned  the  pope's  decrees  he  lit 
another  fire,  the  fire  of  revolution,  for  which  the  materials  were 
already  at  hand. 

-^  The  first  diet  of  the  reign  of  Charles  V  was  held  at  Wonas, 
January  to  May,  1521.  There  were  many  difficult  QuestioQ&JxL 
be  settled,  the  most  important  of  them  being  (1^  the  sucg^^^pn 

to  theTiereditAry  Hnmininr^gi  tyi  t|if  TTpngi^  ni  TTipcktirg  in  Q;^ 

many,  (2)  the  settlement  of  the  form  of  government  of  the 
Emmre,  (3)  tEe  warjyith  France,  and  (4)  the  course  of  action 
toTe^taken  w5Ii  re^arfTln^T .nthe n  This  last  probl^  was  by 
no  means  the  most  important  in  the  eyes  of  the  authorities ;  it  was 
regarded  by  them  merely  as  a  troublesome  incident;  yet  it  was 
destined  to  prove  the  gravest  and  most  difficult  of  all.  Charles 
solved  the  first  problem  bv  retaining  thf  NpttiPrlflfrHg  anH  Fmm;>h- 
Comte  and  relinquishing  to  h^*^  hrnth<>r  F#>rHinanH  all  tH^  1^#irt4^- 
tary  Austrian  lands  and  t^c  ^laimg  l;^p^fl_TT^,|^gary  anH  Rnhgni 
The 
tion 


question  oJ  theTmperial  government  was  met  by  the  restor%" 
of  the  ReichsregJmenL  tneTx>uncii  nf  ffriianfiyi  an  imtitii 


tion  vifbirh  linfl  frrn  in  -gTTstrnrr  ♦nrinc  two  years  of  i5;oo-02, 
whjrh  had  thr  jnitiat^v^  jj?  arranging  foreign  alliances  and  ad- 
judicating  feudal  q^^gtio^^  wKirh  had  admanistrativepower  in 
ttif  Absence  oi  the  Emperor  and  which,  at  other  tunes,  acted  as 
itr.    Among  the  conditions  of  tlie  electicm  of  Charles 


had  been  a  pledge  for  the  establishment  of  a  central  government 
The  Council  of  Regency  was  a  compromise  between  the  demands 
of  the  nobles  and  those  of  the  Emperor.  The  Reichskammer- 
gericht,  the  Supreme  Law  Court,  was  remodeled.  Three  mem- 
bers were  nominated  by  the  Emperor,  two  more  were  to  repre- 
sent the  Hapsburg  dominions,  and  the  others  were  to  be  elected 
by  the  seven  electors  and  the  six  circles.  The  members  were  to 
be  paid  by  the  Empire  so  as  to  guard  against  their  dependence 
upon  the  Emperor.  The  war  with  France  had  already  broken 
out  and  Charles  was  most  anxious  to  piFosecuTe  il  vigorolisly,'* 
but  the  Diet  provided  for  only  4,000  cavalry  and  20,000  infantry. 
The  t)iet  summoned  Lutheflto"  appear  before  it;  and  so  un- 
mistakable were  the  signs  of  approval  showered  upon  him  by  the 
people  that  his  journey  from  Wittenberg  to  Worms  was  a  tri- 
umphal procession  and  his  entrance  into  the  city  was  like  that 
of  a  conqueror.  On  April  16  the  Emperor,  a  youth  of  twenty- 
one  years,  utterly  unfitted  to  deal  with  the  momentous  problem 
before  him,  and  the  heretic  friar  confronted  each  other,  at  the 
end  of  an  April  afternoon,  in  the  great  hall  where  the  Diet  met. 
In  the  presence  of  Charles,  the  great _princes  of  the  realm,  and 


THE  GERMAN  REVOLT  FROM  ROME 


the  reoreseq^tiY<^  ^^  ^^^  ^^^  ^*tif^,  liiither  acknowledged  tbg       

atffhnrship  pf  hji  hnokt;  but  in  answer  to  the  question  of  his      — 
Rrithdrawal  of  them  he  asked  time  for  consideration.    He  was      ^'^ 
granted  twenty-four  hours.    In  the  interval  much  encourage- 
ment was  given  him,  and  on  the  following  day,  in  a  highly 
dramatic  scene,  he  bgively  refused  to  rffflnf  any  n4  Viic  »#>orfi, 

ings.  Then  in  the  midst  of  tumult  he  made  his  way  from  the 
liaU.  A  few  days  later,  at  the  JCon^Hltind  ^^  ^^^  ^"'PH'ff^,  ^t 
Quitted  Worqg  before  he  knew  what  the  action  of  the  Diet  would 
be.  Upon  the  day  following  Luther's  refusal  to  recant,  Charles 
expressed  hb  determination  to  stake  all  his  dominions,  his 
friends,  his  life,  and  his  soul,  upon  the  extinction  of  the  Lutheran 
heresy.  On  May  26  an  edict  was  issued  against  Luther^  proscrib- 
ing him  as  a  heretic,  forbidding  men  to  give  him  food  or  shelter, 
commanding  them  to  deliver  him  to  the  imperial  officers,  and 
ordering  his  books  to  be  burned.  Thus  Luther  was  placed  un- 
der the  ban  of  the  imperial  authority  as  well  as  that  of  the 
Church.  But  no  decree  issued  against  the  person  of  the  Saxon 
friar  could  bring  the  religious  question  to  a  conclusion,  neither 
was  it  to  be  ended  by  the  burning  of  his  books.  In  him  all  the 
burdens  and  aspirations  of  Germany  received  expression.  But 
they  would  have  found  another  voice  had  the  fate  of  a  martyr 
befallen  him.  The  Revolution  had  gone  too  far  to  be  ended  with 
the  death  of  a  single  man.  It  had  gone  so  far,  indeed,  as  to 
render  the  execution  of  the  Edict  of  Worms  impossible.  But 
Charles  left  Germany  deeming  himself  to  have  met  with  suc- 
cess. He  believed  he  had  checked  the  encroachment  of  oli- 
garchy, engaged  the  support  of  Germany  against  his  foreign  foe, 
and  scotched  the  snake  of  heresy.  He  was  destined  not  to  re- 
turn to  the  fatherland  for  nine  years.  In  the  meantime  the  re- 
ligious revolution  was  to  continue  with  ever  increasing  mo- 
mentum. *^ 

On  his  way  home,  while  riding  through  a  wood,  Luther  was 
seized  by  some  men  and  carried  by  devious  ways  to  the  castle  of 
the  Wartburg,  one  of  the  residences  of  the  Elector  of  Saxony,  Lnthtr 
whose  emissaries  the  abductors  were.  There  "Junker  Georg"  ^Hiai 
began  his  great  work  of  translating  the  Bible  for  the  German 
people.  A  ntimber  of  translations  of  the  Bible  and  parts  of  the 
Bible  into  German  were  made  before  the  Protestant  Revolution, 
but  they  were  based  upon  the  Vulgate  and  thus  perpetuated 
opinions  which  the  reformers  declined  to  accept.  Luther  en- 
deavored to  base  his  translation  upon  the  most  recent  results  of 
Gredc  and  Hebrew  scholarship.  But  the  great  success  of  his 
translation  was  due  to  its  literary  form  rather  than  to  its  scholar- 


234  THE  PROTESTANT  REVOLUTION 


1521-88 


^^5^*  ship.  He  grieved  because  of  his  lack  of  classical  scholarship,  yet 
it  may  be  said  that,  with  his  power  of  direct  appeal  to  the  im- 
agination and  passions  of  men,  h^^pr<*a|;<>H  the  Carman  1angriia£r<>. 

Of  course  the  g^eat  development  of  German  is  not  due  entirely  to 
him.  Other  men  have  contributed  to  the  work.  But  his  was 
the  river  that  determined  the  route  to  the  sea.  It  is  no  detrac- 
tion that  it  was  swelled  by  tributary  streams  along  the  way. 
The  first  edition  of  his  translation  of  the  New  Testament  was 
issued  in  September,  1522;  and  his  translation  of  the  entire 
Bible  was  finished  in  1534.  Meanwhile,  here  and  there,  in  a  few 
places,  Luther's  books  were  burned;  but  his  supporters  did  not 
decrease  in  numbers,  nor  was  any  rigorous  prosecution  of  them 
attempted.  The  Edict  of  Worms  was  a  dead  letter. 
'^  While  Luther  was  hidden  in  the  Wartburg  the  social  and  re- 
ligious ferment  at  Wittenberg  did  not  cease.  Scholars,  ani- 
mated by  varying  motives,  continued  to  flock  there;  and  the 
University  and  the  town  declined  to  acknowledge  either  the 
papal  bull  or  the  imperial  edict.  Chief  among  the  teachers 
there  were  Philip  Mf^^"<'hthon^  (1497-1560)  and  Carlstadt 
(i48o?~i54i).    More  than  any  one  else  it  was  Melanchthon 


^^gg  who   infused   the.  humanistic   element    intQ   the   revolutionary 

mnverri^T^t  jt]  n^rpiaoy  Previous  to  his  contact  with  Luther  he 
was  interested  chiefly  in  the  restoration  of  classical  science  and 
the  recovery  in  its  unadulterated  form  of  the  ancient  philosophy. 
Later  on  he  gave  himself  to  the  service  of  religious  reform. 
He  was  not  one  of  the  militant  figures  of  the  movement,  and 
he  never  ceased  to  regret  the  quiet  and  peaceful  life  of  the  stu- 
dent. He  had  come  to  Wittenberg  as  a  teacher  of  Greek,  and  it 
was  due  in  part  to  his  reading  of  the  New  Testament  and  in 
part  to  the  dominating  personality  of  Luther  that  he  lent  himself 
to  the  cause  of  revolt.  Carlstadt  was  ambitious  to  be  regarded 
as  the  leader  of  the  new  movement  during  the  absence  of  Luther. 
He  was  a  man  of  considerable  learning,  a  mystic,  and  a  radical. 
His  mysticism  led  him  to  place  but  slight  value  upon  all  ex- 
ternal observances  and  rites.  He  accepted  the  Zwinglian  doc- 
trine that  in  the  sacrament  of  communion  the  elements  of  bread 
and  wine  are  merely  emblems,  he  desired  the  abolition  of  the 
wnrshjp  of  the  Hn<^t_jn  the  mas^^  he  advocated  the  coriipuTsory 
marriage  of  secglar  pnests,  and  he  denouncedjhe  instilufioh  oF 
monasticism.  These  teachings  resulTed  in  a  riot  against  the 
mass  at  "Wittenberg.  The  radical  movement  was  accelerated  by 
the  coming  to  the  University  town  of  a  number  of  so-called 
*'j>rophets"  from  Zwickau,  a  town  in  southern  Saxony,  near 
Bohemia,  among  whom  were  Nicholaus  Storch,  Thomas  Miinzer, 


THE  GERMAN  REVOLT  FROM  ROME  235 

and  Marcus  Stubner.    They  relied  exclusively  upon  the  direct     ^^3^?* 

inspiration  of  the  Holy  Spirit.    To  them  the  Bible  and  the      

Qiurch  were  alike  unnecessary.  Historians  have  sought  to  iden-  i***"^ 
tify  them  with  the  Anabaptists,  but  more  recent  scholarship 
seems  to  reject  any  such  connection.  At  Wittenberg  they  allied 
themselves  with  rafktaHf  ^^j  \\U  fyrnnp  and  increased  the  radi- 
cal nature  of  his  propaganda.  They  advocated  the  distribution 
of  the  property  of  ecclesiastical  corporations  among  the  poorj 
and  declared,  because  oi  the  direct  guidance  of  God7  aUJniStitu»« 

tinn?^  of  learning  to  h<»  iinn^(-pgQa^^ 

In  January  1522,  a  new  Pope,  Adrian  VI,  a  man  already  sixty- 
three  years  of  age,  ascended  the  chair  of  St.  Peter.  He  was  a  Th«w«w 
native  of  Utrecht  and  had  been  the  tutor  of  Charles  V.  He  was  ^^'^ 
a  cold,  austere,  and  simple  man,  sincerely  devoted  to  the  cause  of 
moral  reform  and  to  the  disengaging  of  the  Papacy  from  the 
secular  aims  to  which  it  had  been  committed  for  so  long.  He  had 
no  conception  of  the  Renaissance  movement,  and  no  sympathy 
for  the  art  and  learning  of  which  his  immediate  predecessor  was 
so  willing  a  patron.  Unfortunately  the  circumstances  of  the 
time  did  not  permit  him  to  undertake  separately  the  work  of  re- 
forming the  Church.  It  was  not  an  easy  matter  to  get  rid  of 
the  political  entanglements  of  the  Papacy.  Questions  that  could 
not  be  brushed  aside  required  his  attention.  Despite  his  un- 
willingness he  was  drawn  into  the  quarrel  between  France  and 
Germany.  So  his  brief  pontificate  of  twenty  months  came  to  a 
pathetic  close  with  little  progress  made  in  the  reform  that  he 
cherished  as  his  chief  aim. 

In  his  retreat  Ijither.  had  learned  of  the  pioccfidings  ^-4he 
radicals  at  Wittenbeiy  and  was  gready.  diSEleasecL  So,  regard- 
less  of  the  ban  of  the  Empire  and  the  instructions  of  the  Elector,  Lnth«r'B 
he  left  the  Wartburg  and  arrived  in  Wittenberg  on  March  6,  ■•*"* 
1522.  For  eight  successive  days  he  preached  to  the  people  and 
succeeded  in  winning  them  from  the  support  of  the  radical 
leaders.  Soon  Carlstadt,  Mtinzer,  and  Stubner  left  to  carry  on 
their  work  in  other  places,  and  Luther  continued  to  live  in  the 
Augustinian  convent.  No  action  was  taken  against  him  by  the 
imperial  authorities. 

When  Charles,  at  the  close  of  the  Diet  of  Worms,  believing 
that  he  had  put  things  in  order,  had  gone  off  to  the  Netherlands, 
he  had  really  left  Germany  in  a  dangerous  condition.  For  one  timOoI- 
thing,  there  were  many  classes  that  had  no  voice  in  the  affairs  of  ^J^^ 
government  and  their  dissatisfaction  rapidly  increased  and  be- 
gan to  take  definite  form.  The  peasantry,  as  we  shall  see  in  our 
next  chapter,  were  seething  with  discontent.    The  burghers  were 


236 


THE  PROTESTANT  REVOLUTION 


OSAP. 


1621-88 


The  Coan- 
cUof 
Regency 
BeiiUtei 


ill  at  ease.  And  the  Ritterschaf  t,  the  knights,  were  on  the  verge 
of  insurrection.  These  parasitic  military  adventurers  had  been 
called  into  existence  by  the  innumerable  feudal  wars  that  had 
continued  for  so  long  a  period  in  the  absence  of  any  effective 
central  government.  When  those  wars  gradually  grew  less  fre- 
quent the  knights  were  left  to  prey  upon  their  peasants  and  upon 
society  at  large.  Whatever  reason  for  their  existence  there  may 
have  been  in  the  past  had  vanished  with  the  approach  of  mod- 
em life.  They  lacked  "the  blessing  of  a  great  task."  Th^ 
looked  back  upon  a  proud  past  They  had  once  embodied  the 
warlike  strength  of  the  nation,  and  they  had  been  its  chief  class, 
politically,  socially,  and  in  literature.  Their  period  of  brilliance 
had  gone  by.  Yet  they  were  puffed  up  with  a  boundless  pride ; 
they  clung  to  their  old  ideals,  endeavored  to  preserve  the  old  con- 
ditions, claimed  a  position  of  precedence  in  politics  and  society; 
and  struggled  passionately  against  the  new  economic  conditions 
and  the  modernized  conceptions  of  state  and  law  that  were  grad-| 
ually  making  their  way  in  western  Europe.  Few  of  them 
adapted  themselves  to  the  changed  environment;  and  others. 
sunk  in  poverty,  resorted  to  robbery  upon  the  highway.  Some 
of  these  knights  became  mercenary  soldiers,  finding  in  the  na- 
tional wars  of  the  time  a  restoration,  in  an  altered  form,  of  their 
former  occupation.  But  from  the  fall  of  the  Hohenstaufen 
dynasty  to  the  reign  of  Maximilian  the  Empire  had  hardly  waged 
a  single  war  worthy  of  the  name.  Consequently  those  knights 
who  had  depended  upon  the  Empire  had  lacked  the  opportunity 
for  a  legitimate  exercise  of  their  military  calling.  And  in  the 
wars  of  Maximilian  so  little  glory  was  to  be  won  under  his 
banners  that  it  is  not  improbable  that  many  knights  disdained 
the  imperial  service.  Thus  there  was  developed  in  them  all  the 
evil  qualities  of  the  unemployed  soldier.  The  warlike  force 
that  fermented  in  them  discharged  itself  in  guerilla  warfare  with 
each  other,  or  with  the  secular  and  ecclesiastical  princes,  or  in  the 
wild  life  of  the  bandit  Most  conspicuous  of  this  class  was 
Franz  von  Sickingen,  one  of  the  most  prominent  of  Luther's 
supporters,  who  soon  after  Charles  had  left  Germany  made  a 
raid  upon  _the_Archbishop  of  Trier.  The  ^ttack^resulted  in  thq^ 
defeaTand  death  ol  Sickingen  and  in  the^jlsappearaocfi^of  the 
kni^its  _agan  independent  and  effective  force.  Jn  the  political 
alfairs  ofGennany. 

In  the  absence  of  the  Emperor  the  Council  of  Regency  at- 
tempted to  control  the  affairs  of  the  country.  ~  Biif  it  had  neither 
men  nor  money,  and  it^  proved  aUogether,  ineffectual.  It  failed 
to  check  the  aggressive  movement  of  Von  SickingeiTand  it  failed 


THE  GERMAN  REVOLT  FROM  ROME  237 


to  check  the  retaliatory  measures  of  the  princes  who  had  com-     Q^^' 

bined  for  the  relief  of  Trier  and  the  ending  of  the  power  of  the      

knights.  The  towns  were  hostile  to  its  economic  policy,  the  *•**-•* 
princes  opposed  it  because  it  interfered  with  their  individual  in- 
dependence, and  Ferdinand,  who  was  its  president,  believed  that 
its  enfeeblement  would  enhance  his  own  power.  The  majority 
of  its  members  viewed  with  displeasure  the  swelling  tide  of 
Lutheran  opinion,  but  they  were  too  precariously  situated  to 
undertake  repressive  measures.  So  when  Pope  Adrian  urged 
the  enforcement  of  the  Edict  of  Worms  they  referred  the  mat- 
ter to  the  Diet.  — V  W"/^" 

The  Diet  met  at  Nuremberg,  from  November,  1522  to  March<  ^ 
1523.  A  locality  more  fa  vocable,  ta  the  Lutheran  cause  could 
sicarcdy  have  been  chosen.  The  town  was  enthusiastic  and  un- 
abashed in  its  support  of  the  heretical  friar.  The  majority  of  TiwDut 
the  members  of  the  Diet  belonged  to  the  orthodox  party,  but  S^"*^ 
with  a  few  exceptions  they  were  not  inclined  to  a  policy  of  active 
suppression.  To  the  Diet  the  lay  estates  submitted  one  hundred 
Gravamina,  recounting  the  more  important  of  the  papal  abuses 
from  which  Germany  had  suffered.  The  outcQiDe  of  the  meet- 
ing was  that  word  was  sent  to  Adrian  that  any  attempt  to  en- 
force the  edict  would  result  in  civil  war,  that  the  existence  of 
evils  in  the  Church  had  been  admitted  by  the  Pope  himself,  and 
that  the  be§t_£cmfidy-iQ]Llhe  situation  was  the  stunmoning  of  a_ 
council  m  which  laymen  as  wdl  as  ecclesiastics  should  be  per- 
mitted to  discuss  the  grievance  It  cannot  be  said  that  either 
the  list  of  grievances  presented  by  the  lay  estates  or  the  com- 
munication of  the  Diet  to  the  Pope  can  be  taken  as  an  expression 
of  support  of  the  Lutheran  cause;  but  the  delay  that  ensued  con- 
tributed in  no  snfiall  d^ree  to  the  success  of  the  movement.  It 
is  clear  that  the  religious  revolt  had  now  acquired  a  political 
aspect,  that  it  had  secured  recognition  as  a  national  problem 
whose  solution  could  be  found  only  in  the  reform  of  the  condi- 
tions that  had  called  it  into  existence. 

For  the  time  being,  then,  the  revolt  was  allowed  to  spread. 
Luther  himself  was  the  feeblest  of  organizers,  but  the  Lutheran  Bprg^oi 
revest  answered  to  the  needs  of  the  time.  It  had  already  found  ^•^w 
a  fruitful  soil  in  the  cities.  The  city  age  in  the  development  of 
German  civilization  was  at  hand.  It  was  making  culture  more 
democratic,  and  it  was  creating  new  needs,  new  tendencies  and 
new  aims.  The  culture  of  the  Middle  Ages,  represented  by  the 
dergy  and  to  a  lesser  extent  by  the  nobility,  was  passing  away. 
The  development  of  city  life  was  causing  the  upheaval  of  social 
strata  that  hitherto  had  been  intellectually  dormant.     Far-reach- 


108S-24 


238  THE  PROTESTANT  REVOLUTION 

^'^^^  ing  dislocations  were  taking  place.  The  age  of  feudalism  had 
permitted  the  Papacy  to  build  up,  by  violent  means  when  neces- 
sary, its  vast  juristic  and  political  power.  The  age  of  capitalism 
and  the  new  democratic  culture  was  to  witness  the  retaliation. 
And  together  with  the  proletariat  of  the  towns,  in  the  sharing  of 
the  new  social  ideals,  there  must  be  associated  the  peasants. 
Political  tliought  had  brought  to  the  surf ayce  the  doctrine  of  the 
-*K?Y^r^igP<y  ^^  ^b^  p^p^**;  and  from  the  bosom  of  the  Church, 
had  come  the^ospei.pfjhe  equality ^m  brotherhood  of  all  JneOu 
These  two  ideas  were  intoxicating  the  minds  of  the  masses.  We 
shall  soon  see  how  they  led  to  the  social  revolt  of  the  peasants. 
At  present  we  are  concerned  only  with  their  influence  upon  the 
religious  revolt.  At  first  this  quickening  of  life  in  the  cities 
assumed  the  form_of  a  crusade  against  the  exasperating  religious 
abuses  of  the  time,  a  stirring  of  the  spirit  of  nationality,  and  an 
intellectual  awakening. "  "raiKeF"  tEan'lTges'ffe  to"  supplant  the 
creeds  of  the  Oiurch  with  new  doctrines.  Still  it  was  true  that 
the  theological  views  of  Luther  and  Zwingli  were  gaining  ground. 
Lu^:herapisn1  ^^*^  spread  ^n?ong  the  princes,  the  most  power- 
ful political  force  in  Germany.  The  de?eat  of  the  knights  under 
Von  Sickingen,  who  had  espoused  Luther's  cause,  seemed  for  the 
time  to  be  a  great  blow  to  the  Lutheran  revolt.  But  in  much  the 
same  manner  as  the  revolt  increased  the  national  opposition  to 
the  papal  curia  did  it  connect  itself  with  the  oligarchical  opposi- 
tion to  the  monarchy.  Then,  too,  the  princes  as  well  as  the  lesser 
nobility,  the  burghers  and  the  peasants,  had  suffered  from 
ecclesiastical  pretensions  and  exemptions.  Frederick  the  Wise, 
Elector  of  Saxony,  to  whom  the  German  revolt  owed  its  preserva- 
tion from  the  grave  perils  of  its  earliest  years,  was  won  over  to 
the  Lutheran  cause  much  more  definitely  and  much  earlier  than 
has  commonly  been  supposed.  His  brother  John  who  succeeded 
him  at  his  death  in  1525  was  less  circumspect,  and  favored  the 
new  doctrines  more  openly.  Among  the  other  princes  who  early 
lent  themselves  to  the  Lutheran  cause  was  the  youthful  and 
talented  Philip  of  Hesse,  who  was  won  over  by  Melanchthon 
in  1524.  He  was  an  important  acquisition  to  the  movement. 
His  state  was  one  of  the  first  rank,  and  he  himself  was  able  and 
ambitious.  In  the  same  year  the  Marg^ve  Casimir  of  Branden- 
burg, acting  in  conjunction  with  his  Estates,  adopted  the  Lu- 
theran profession ;  and  Duke  Ernest  of  Liineburg,  a  nephew  of 
the  Elector  Frederick  of  Saxony,  inaugurated  reformatory  meas- 
ures at  Celle.  In  the  following  year  Albert  of  Hohenzollem, 
Grandmaster  of  the  Teutonic  Order,  renounced  his  religious 
vows  and  changed  his  ecclesiastical  office  into  an  hereditary 


THE  GERMAN  REVOLT  FROM  ROME  239 

duchy  under  the  protection  of  Poland.    George  of  Culmbach  also     ^l^y* 

became  a  convert  to  Lutheranism ;  and  the  banished  and  brutal      

Ulrich  of  Wurtemberg,  who  doubtless  hoped  the  success  of  the  *••*••* 
revolt  would  enable  him  to  recover  his  duchy,  proclaimed  his 
adherence  to  the  new  religion.  Lutheranism  found  a  Danish. 
patrqn  in  .Chnstian  H,  a  brother-in-law  of  Charles  V,  who  urged 
Luther  and  Carlstadt  to  carry  on  a  propaganda  in  his  kingdom, 
and  when  that  brutal  and  lustful  ruler  was  deprived  of  his  throne 
it  fotmd  a  much  more  desirable  promoter  in  hb  successor,  Fred- 
erick I. 

The  strength  of  Luther's  mission  was  that  it  kindled  the  hearts 
of  those  who  were  so  rooted  in  the  old  ideals  that  they  could  not 
be  touched  by  the  radicals,  by  the  teachings  of  those  scholars  Th«8ter«i 
who  hastened  on  to  the  emancipation  of  the  individual  in  which  2.^[^^ 
both  mysticism  and  rationalism  resulted.  His  earliest  teaching 
apiyale^  tq,,^the  mayes  who  wished  to  keep  in  touch  with  the 
assured  past  The  successful  founder  of  a  new  religion  has  al- 
ways been  a  devotee  of  the  old,  a  more  ardent  disciple  and  a 
deeper  lover  of  the  ancient  ways  than  others.  The  power  to 
make  the  hearts  of  his  followers  bum  within  them  is  the  power 
to  reveal  to  them  still  further  the  beauty  and  the  consolation  of 
the  book  they  already  hold  sacred.  He  comes  never  to  destroy, 
but  always  to  fulfil.  His  message  purports  to  be  a  better  in- 
terpretation of  the  ancient  faith.  There  is  nothing  new  about 
Luther,  said  Erasmus,  not  without  a  touch  of  disdain,  except 
his  g^hd  phrases.  The  corruption  of  the  clergy,  and  the  unbe- 
lief and  skepticism  engendered  by  the  new  learning  had  broughl 
about  a  visible  decline  .in.  religion  jthat  extended  even  to  the  ranks 
of  the  peasantry.  It  was  Luther's  object  to  restore  religion. 
It  was  necessary,  so  it  seemed,  to  carry  on  a  simultaneous  war- 
fare against  the  ecclesiastical  abuses  and  the  increasing  rational- 
ism of  the  time.  He  did  not  fight  under  the  banner  of  humanism. 
On  the  contrary,  he  distinctly  repudiated  reason  as  a  religious 
guide.  In  the  beginning  he  did  not  realize  how  far  his  religious 
views  would  carry  him.  No  one  would  have  repudiated  more 
passionately  than  he  the  things  which  eventually  became  the 
essential  characteristics  of  Protestantism.  It  was  the  tide  of 
events,  the  great  upheaval  of  the  time,  of  which,  paradoxical  as 
it  may  seem,  he  stands  out  as  the  leader,  that  carried  him  for-_ 
ward..  But  he  always  faced  backward.  His  greatness,  like  that 
of  other  leaders,  consisted  not  in  unlikeness  to  his  fellow-men, 
but  in  ability  to  see  things  from  their  point  of  view.  The  great 
leader  is  always  comprehensive,  never  unique.  He  sees  the 
things  that  should  be  done  with  such  a  singleness  and  intensity 


240  THE  PROTESTANT  REVOLUTION 


of  vision  and  he  strives  for  their  fulfihnent  with  so  definite  and 
passionate  a  conviction  as  often  to  bring  upon  himself  the  charge 
******  of  narrowness,  and  sometimes  that  of  fanaticism.  But  it  is  pre- 
cisely these  qualities  that  make  him  a  leader.  Luther  had  the 
elements  of  a  great  man  in  that  he  shared  the  point  of  view  of 
his  contemporaries ;  he  caught  the  trmSTot  the  new  movement 
with  extraordinary  reality  and  intensity;  the  simplicity  and  di- 
rectness of  his  nature  gave  to  him  the  power  of  vivid  and  ap- 
pealing speech ;  and  his  vital  imagination  gave  him  a  power,  sel- 
dom equaled,  to  move  the  hearts  of  men.  New  religions  are 
wont  to  start  in  the  backwoods.  One  started  in  an  unimportant 
province  of  the  great  Roman  Empire  nineteen  hundred  years 
ago,  and  grew  in  power  from  its  humble  b^nnings  in  Nazareth 
until  to-day  it  nominally  embraces  the  Christian  world.  So,  too, 
in  Saxony,  a  frontier  province  of  the  German  Empire,  crude  and 
undeveloped,  touched  but  slightly  as  yet  with  the  transforming 
humanism  of  the  time,  a  new  religion  was  bom. 


CHAPTER  XIII 

THE  SOCIAL  REVOLUTION 

l«  Its  Medieval  Forerunners. 

X  The  Peasant  Outbreaks  of  15 13- 17. 

3.  The  Social  Effects  of  the  Lutheran  Schism. 

4.  The  Second  Diet  of  Nuremberg. 

5.  The  Social  Revolution. 

Ok    Why  as  yet  the  Revolution  Failed. 

CHRISTIAJf^ITY  in  its  first  years  became  connected  with     chap. 
iinriailittir   TICT*^     ^^   insisted   upon    the   equality    of   a]}      

classes  of  men  in  the  sight  of  God  and  it  gave  a  high  value  to  woo-isai 
voluntary  pover^.  In  the  Middle  Ages  it  went  still  further. 
It  held  up,  as  the  condition  of  life  in  the  apostolic  age,  as  a  con- 
dition of  life  to  be  regained,  the  ideal  of  coigmunijy  of .prpp^jlx. 
Private  property,  it  taught,  had  come  into  existence  only  as  a 
result  of  the  fall  of  man.  This  communistic  ideal  never  pre- 
vailed in  actual  life.  From  time  to  time  first  one  as^eticj)rder  ibdtevai 
and  thl!tfl  il*"^^^*^  ^^^^^\^4  ^^  attain  it;^  bursooner  or  later  cacfi  JS*"^ 
fell  by  the  wayside.  Yet  their  efforts  were  by  no  means  wholly 
in  vain.  The  radiant  ideal  of  St.  Francis  of  Assisi,  so  expres- 
sive of  the  tender  personality  of  the  most  poetic  of  all  the  saints, 
appealed  to  the  laity  with  a  heart-compelling  force  and  exercised 
upon  them  an  incalculable  effect  long  after  it  had  become  for- 
gotten by  his  professional  followers.  So  at  intervals  there  ap- 
peared heretical  sects  who  included  community  of  property  as 
an  essential  part  of  their  program.  Such  a  sect  were  the  Wal-^ 
jJ^QSeS-^To  this  part  of  their  creed  the  Qiurch  could  not  con- 
sistently object;  and  so  in  1206  one  division  of  the  Waldenses, 
known  as  the  "  Catholic  poor,"  received  the  papal  sanction. 
This  amalgamation  of  religious  and  social  questions  was  destined 
to  have  momentous  results.  Two  churches  existed  side  by  side, 
or  rather  one  existed  within  the  other;  first,  the  outward  and 
visible  Church,  the  rich  and  powerful  hierarchy  with  its  worldly 
interests  and  activity,  the  empirical  Church;  and,  second,  the 
invisible  church,  the  community  of  saints,  held  together  by  no 
organization,  united  only  by  the  common  devotion  to  a  religious 
ideal  of  life.  The  political,  economic,  and  social  changes  that 
took  place  in  Germany  in  the  fourteenth,  fifteenth,  and  sixteenth 

241 


U00-1S81 


242  THE  PROTESTANT  REVOLUTION 

m 

^^^*     centuries  put  the  masses  into  a  state  of  ferment.    This  discontent 
was  accentuated  by  the  dissatisfaction  of  the  invisible  churdi 
with  the  wealth  and  the  worldly  activity  of  the  visible  Church. 
Ominous  threats  against  the  captains  of  industry,  the  princes, 
and  the  prelates,  who  were  held  responsible  respectively  for  the 
economic,  political,  and  ecclesiastical  evils  of  the  time,  g^ew  ever 
more  frequent.    The  people  must  fall  upon  them  all,  was  the 
burden  of  the  popular  German  poetryof  the  end  of  the  four- 
teenth century,  upon  priestly)  princely,  and  capitalistic  vampires 
alike,  for  ''they  are  full  day  and  night,  while  our  bellies  are 
empty."    Already,  as  one  of  the  in^fi11<>rt;j;^l  p^Hnrtg  of  the 
Renaissance,  tbpr^  wa?^  spr^'^^^'^S  ^^^^d  the  theorv  of  the  po^itj'- 
cgi  sovereignty  of  the  peoplg^:  and  from  the  bosom  of  the  Churcti 
there^  came  the  doctrine  of  the  equality  and  brotherhood  of  all 
men.    The  two  thoughts  united  to  increase  the  social  discontent 
of  the  time.    They  pointed  towards  a  golden  age  and  intoxicated 
the  minds  of  the  masses.    The  only  outlet  for  this  discontent: 
that  was  consequent  upon  the  break-up  of  ecclesiastical  and  sec- 
ular feudalism  was  revolution.     So  the  storm  broke  and  all  tfae= 
deplorable  disasters  of  the  social  revolt  came  to  pass. 

The  first  outbreaks  of  importance  occurred  in  PgglayyH.  In 
that  country  the  conditions  of  the  peasants  had  been  improved; 
but  it  was  precisely  because  the  peasants  had  caught  a  vision  of 
better  things  that  they  became  determined  to  secure  a  gfreater 
degfree  of  amelioration.  The  uncertain  personal  services  that 
BoeiAise-  had  formerly  been  demanded  of  them  had  to  a  considerable  ex- 
JSIJigiimA  tent  been  commuted  for  definite  rents,  and  the  devastations  of 
the  Black  Death,  which  in  a  few  months  had  swept  away  one- 
third  of  the  population  of  England,  had  depleted  the  supply  of 
labor  and  caused  an  increase  of  wages.  The  landlords,  by  means 
of  the  Statute  of  Laborers,  tried  to  put  back  the  hands  of  the 
clock,  to  compel  a  return  to  the  conditions  of  feudalism.  The 
irritation  caused  by  this  attempt  was  increased  by  the  com^^ 
munijtic  teaching  of  the  T^llards.  The  demand  for  a  reforma- 
tion of  morals  had  become  coupled  with  a  belief  in  the  equality 
of  men,  and  a  desire  for  the  redistribution  of  property,  at  least 
of  ecclesiastical  property.  In  the  beginning  all  men  were  equal, 
said  Yi\i^  ^A\  ""  "'firideriT^fy  P^^§^-  the  subjection  of  one  man 
to  another  that  has  come  about  is  against  the  will  of  God.  The 
primitive  freedom  and  equality  which  is  the  birthright  of  every 
man  can  be  regained  only  by  war  upon  the  oppressors  of  the 
common  man.  At  last  in  1381,  when  the  grievance  of  an  ob- 
noxious poll  tax  irritated  the  malcontents,  f£i£tioiL.UsyglQQedJnto 
violence.    The  rebellion,  which  lasted  only  three  days,  found  a 


THE  SOCIAL  REVCa:-UTION  243 

leader  in  Wat  '^y^^i  ^  quick-witted  adventurer  of  uncertain     oglff- 

antecedents.    The  Kentish  mob  streamed  along  the  highways     

from  Canterbury  to  London  where  Tyler  confronted  the  youth-  *••* 
ful  king.  Richard  promised  a  redress  of  grievances.  At  a 
second  conference  Tyler  was  killed  in  the  course  of  an  alterca- 
tion  with  one  of  the  king's  attendants.  Instantly  realizing  the 
gravity  of  the  situation  Richard  rode  forward  exclaiming  to  the 
rebels:  "Take  me  for  your  leader;  from  me  shall  you  have 
all  that  you  seek."  He  led  them  beyond  the  walls  into  the  fields 
where  they  were  induced  to  disperse.  When  some  days  later  he 
was  asked  to  fulfil  his  promise  he  made  the  harsh  reply,  "  Villeins 
ye  are  still,  and  villeins  ye  shall  remain."  Then  the  royal  forces 
fell  upon  the  insurgents  and  defeated  them.  There  were  minor 
outbreaks  in  various  parts  of  England,  but  all  of  them  quickly 
subsided.  The  immediate  jcesults  of  the  rebellion  were  in  many 
cases  distinctly  unfavorable  to  the  peasants.  The  old  bonds 
were  tightened  anew.  But  the  forces  of  economic  change  were 
working  silently,  and  gxadually  they  brought  about  the  desired 

from  villeinaye  to  free  tenui:^  that  revolution 
lad  failed  to  accomplish.  The  misery  of  the  peasants  and  their 
dreams  of  amelioration  found  expression  in  the  poems  grouped 
under  the  title  of  The  Vision  of  William  concerning  Piers  the 
Plowman.  They  have  usually  been  ascribed  to  a  single  au- 
thor, William  Langland,  but  there  is  much  evidence  to  support 
the  conclusion  that  they  are  the  work  of  several  writers,  each  with 
his  own  eyes  to  see  the  corruption  and  the  injustice  of  the  time, 
each  with  his  own  heart  deeply  sympathetic  with  the  sad  plight 
of  his  fellow-men,  and  each  with  his  own  peculiar  voice  giving 
utterance  to  his  indignation  in  passionate  protest. 

The  ideas  that  produced  discontent  in  England  also  found 
their  cognate  social  application  in  Bohemia.     In  the  reign  of 
Charles  IV  (1347-78)  that  country  reached  the  height  of  its 
prosperity.    In  1348  Charles  founded  at  Prague  the  first  uni-  xcroitia 
versity  on  German  soil.    The  national  spirit  of  the  Czechs  was  ■•^•■^ 
stimulated  and  in  1409  the  German  element  was  expelled  from 
the  University.    The  most  influential  spokesman  of  this  revival 
of  national  f eding  was  John  Hus.  a  teacher  and  a  priest.    From 
Widif  and  from  a  long  series  of  Bohemian  thinkers  he  in- 
herited heretical  views.    On  July  6,  iaic.  he  was  b^ed  at  the 
^if^  pt  Constance,  where  he  had  been  induced  under  a  guarantee 
of  safety  to  attend  the  general  council.    The  tr||acherQU^ika^ 
of  the  popular  leader  irjtjH)^^  ^  ^^"iblf"  w;^|'!''^HSnRnBBriSn 
revolt  was  distinctly  national  in  character.    All  classes  of  society 
participated  in  it.    The  insurgents,  inspired  by  the  fanaticism  and 


^ 


a44  THE  PROTESTANT  REVOLUTION 


^'jm      Aided  by  the  strat^c  skill  of  John  Ziska,  burning  churches  and 

monasteries,  swept  over  Bohemia,  and  made  devastating  expedi- 

1415-M  ^Qjjg  j^^Q  various  other  parts  of  the  empire.  Everywhere  the 
Christian  socialist  views  ha/j  prnduc^d  the  mn^\  jfif|3|nTtnflhl^  ^a. 
teriaT  and  onl^  ^hsjSB^^^  Q^  ^^  shameful  betrayal  of  Hns  had . 
^'"I>een  necessary  for  the  conflap-adoji.  The  Hussite  extremistSi 
"Who  were  known  as  the  Taborites  from  their  custom  of  giving 
scriptural  names  to  the  hills  where  they  held  their  meetings, 
demanded  along  with  ecclesiastical  reforms  the  secularization  of 
church  property,  and  they  desired  to  institute  a  socialistic  theoc- 
racy based  upon  their  conception  of  the  primitive  Christian 
life.  In  the  Bohemian  revolt  there  were  interwoven  an  insur- 
rection against  the  authority  of  the  Church,  an  outbreak  of  the 
national  spirit,  and  an  attempt  to  settle  the  fundamental  problems 
that  confront  secular  society.  Unfortimately  it  came  to  include 
a  disprizal  of  culture  and  a  belief  that  the  golden  age  was  to  be 
reached  not  by  a  gradually  increasing  development  but  by  a  sud- 
den and  stupendous  catastrophe.  In  Bohemia  the  revolutionary 
movement  succumbed  to  the  persistency  of  the  warfare  against 
it  and  to  its  own  excesses;  but  its  ideas  spread  throughout  the 
German  lands  increasing  everywhere  the  fermenting  and  fore- 
boding discontent. 
We  have  arrived  at  the  beginnings  of  the  social  revolution  in 
timBz-  Germany.  But  first  we  must  stop  to  note  the  example  of  the 
a?8wiss  Swisg.  The  struggle  for  freedom  made  by  the  people  of  the 
three  forest  cantons  in  the  first  years  of  the  fourteenth 
century,  was  the  fir«^t  grpat  gi^rrpggfi^]  p^pg^nf  r^^^^ii<^*^  The 
rebels  were  greatly  aided  by  the  mountains  which  they  knew 
thoroughly  and  loved  well.  In  the  battle  of  Morgarten  1,300  of 
them  were  able  to  defeat  10,000  Austrians.  Between  1424  and 
1471  the  peasants  of  the  Rluetian  Alps  were  successful  in  a 
similar  rebellion.  So  two  little  republics  were  formed  in  the 
heart  of  the  mountains,  and  eventually  a  new  nation  was  bom 
in  Europe. 

Somewhere  about  the  year  1437  there  was  written  a  remark- 
able little  book,  called  Th^  Reformation  of  Emperor  Siqismund. 
Th«  R«f.     that  boldly  sketched  the  promm  of  _th^.  .social  .ressolutiQa  that 
ofEmp«^    was  impending  in  Germany."  It  is  not  certain  who  wrote  it ;  and 
ttnSf*"      equally  uncertain  is  the  reason  for  naming  it  as  the  work  of 
Sigismund.    The  authorship  has  been  attributed,  among  others, 
to  a  secular  priest  of  Augsburg  and  to  the  town  notary  of  an 
imperial  city.     Its  title  may  be  due  to  the  current  belief  that 
some  day  a  great  reformer,  in  the  person  of  an  emperor,  would 
come  to  end  all  the  sorrows  and  burdens  of  the  people,  or  to  the 


THE  SOCIAL  REVOLUTION  245 

hope  that  the  emperor  would  accept  its  program  of  reform  as  his     <^gff* 

owxL    This  earliest  of  the  German  revolutionary  pamphlets  ap-     

peared  in  print  for  the  first  time  in  1476,  and  so  it  was  not  until  "^ 
long  after  it  was  written  that  it  became  widely  known  and  exer- 
cised a  wide-spread  influence.  Indeed,  it  was  not  until  the  sec- 
ond decade  of  the  sixteenth  century  that  it  reached  the  apogee 
of  its  power.  Then  it  becam<^  **thf*  i-nimp<>»  /^f.-ihA^  Pnnoanfr' 
War/*  It  demanded  the  abolition  of  serfdom  as  a  sin  against 
the  word  of  God.  All  opponents  of  the  emancipation  of  the 
peasants  it  declared  to  be  deserving  of  death.    The  pe^^^antnt 

was    ^Sential  to  the   exi^ft^n^-^^  r^^    ^v^ry   ntht^r   r1ac«^   nf  gnripty » 

in  truth,  it  was  the  oldest  and  most  respectable  of  all  classes. 
It  should  be  freed  from  all  its  oppressions,  from  tithes  and  toljg 
and  rents,  and  from  secular  and  y:clesiastical  punishment^  and 
it  should  have  free  access  to  the  waters^jyop^  and,  meadoy^. 
In  the  towns  there  was  need  of  a  similar  emancipation  for  the 
worionen.  The  guilds  and  the  great  capitalistic  corporations,  the 
most  unanimously  and  bitterly  hated  of  all  the  new  phenomena 
of  the  economic  life  of  the  time,  of  which  the  chief  was  the  re- 
markable family  of  the  Fueyers.  were  to  be  abolished;  and 
wages  and  the  pric^  9^  fno^  wfrf  ^^  ^  ^'^ff^^^tnl  by.  Xfiorje^fiiitfc 
ivesof  the  handicrafts.  In  addition  to  such  definite  demands 
the  Dook  contains  much  vague  suggestion  that  is  equally  char- 
acteristic of  the  contemporary  state  of  feeling.  Verily  the  hum- 
ble should  be  exalted  and  the  mighty  be  put  down  from  their 
seats.  The  last  age  of  the  world  was  dawning.  All  evil  was  to 
be  rooted  out  and  happiness  was  to  become  the  common  lot. 
The  book  is  expressive,  too,  of  the  exceedingly  varied  elements 
of  the  discontent  that  everywhere  was  rife,  and  of  the  idealiza- 
tion of  the  peasantry  and  the  proletariat  and  the  religious  en- 
noblement of  agriculture  and  the  handicrafts  that  characterize 
the  literature  of  the  fifteenth  century. 

Before  we  b^;in  the  story  of  the  social  revolution  it  would  be 
well  to  attempt  an  analysis  of  this  wide-spread  discontent.    It 
was  not  due  entirely  to  economic  need.    Long  ago  the  legal  Anaiyiis 
conditicm  of  the  peasant  had  altered  in  his  favor.    Here  ^nd,^^^^^ 
there  cQuld  be  found  peasants  who^wer^rgfi,  upon  whose  per-  eontant 
sons  and  property  no  k>rd  had  any  claim.    And  most  of  the  for- 
mer serfs  had  become  partially  free.    They  were  free  tenants 
who  combined  with  complete  personal  freedom  a  limited  right 
of  usufruct  in  their  farms.     In  general  they  paid  to  the  lord  of 
the  manor  a  fixed  rent;  they  and  their  heirs,  therefore,  were 
able  to  enjoy  the  fruits  of  their  industry;  and  they  were  able 
to  profit  by  the  increased  demand  for  agricultural  products 


246  THE  PROTESTANT  REVOLUTION 


oy^'     caused  by  the  growth  of  urban  population  and  the  rising  stand- 

ard  of  life  in  the  towns.    It  is  true  that  this  improved  econonuc 

^J^      condition  of  the  peasants  was  not  uniform.    Some  there  were 
who  "  had  neither  hay  nor  straw."    Most  of  these  unfortunates 
were  to  be  found  in  Swabia  and  the  bordering  provinces.    Yet 
even  these  poorer  peasants  were  not  landl^s  thralls.     Here  and 
there  poverty  and  subjection  were  to  be  found ;  but  nowhere  was 
there  general  poverty;  and  nowhere  was  there  slavery  without 
legal  rights.    It  would  be  a  mistake,  therefore,  to  attribute  tiie, 
uprising  agilely  to  economic  need.    *^  JNew  mventions  and  dc- 
signs,'4(i<ew  burdens  that  had  been  imposed  upon  them  withio-th^ 
memory  of  living  men,  the  raising  ot  their  dues  to  the  lords  o^ 
the  manors,  the  changing  of  occasional  and  voluntary  services  int-^ 
regular  and  required  duties,  the  shifting  of  the  demands  of  th^ 
State  from  the  shoulders  of  the  landlords  to  those  of  the  tenants 
and  the  levying  of  heavier  taxes  directly  upon  them,  figure  cvcr>s= 
where  in  the  peasants'  programs  of  reform.    The  abolition  <y- 
these  intolerable  innovations  became  the  watchword  of  the  diss 
contented  peasants.    Then,  too,  the  peasants  whose  economic  con- 
dition  had.  in  general,  been  improving,  had^anght  a  glimpoe  o^ 
better  things.    They  were  no  longer  content  to  render  even  the 
ola  services  as  a  matter  of  course.    They  began  to  demand  legal 
title  and  counter-service.    All  things  not  in  harmony  with  divine 
and  human  law  were  to  be  rejected  even  though  they  were  sanc- 
tioned and  sanctified  by  immemorial  tradition.    To  return  to  the 
conditions  of  primitive  Christianity,  to  establish  a  new  order 
based  upon  social  justice  and  fashioned  after  the  will  of  God  — 
that  was  the  central  demand  of  the  peasants.     It  informs,  as  we 
shall  see,  the  Twelve  Articles,  their  principal  program  of  re- 
form.    In  addition  to  these  grievances  against  thelords  of  the 
manors  the  peasants  bitterly  disliked  the  great*?tssociations  of 
capital,  the  J^jggers,  Welsers,  Hochstetters,  and  others,  which 
had  fonned Tnonopolies  in  so  many  lines  of  industry,  and  which 
had,  sj^it  was  believed,  arbitrarily  and  wantonly  raised  prices. 
The  ^ilds  gf  th^  ^owng  ^Iso  came  within  the  scope  of  their  dis- 
approval,  for  did  not  they,  too,  control  industry  and  raise  prices  ? 
And   even   the  *^ergY  had  become  more  grasping  than   ever. 
Thus  the  peasants  believed  themselves  to  be  surrounded  by  a 
world  of  enemies,  given  up  withoutbope  of  rescue  to  the  greed 
and  caprice  of  the  higher  classes,  ^^^ery  man^sQiight  to  enrich 
himself  at  their  expensej  whoever  oufraged  a  peasant  was  guilty 
of  "hbwrong.     InTHe  phrase  "  the  poor  man,"  as  applied  to  the 
peasant  of  that  time,  there  lies  a  deep  meaning.    And  against 
these  hardships  no  aid  could  be  expected  from  the  State.    Only 


THE  SOCIAL  REVOLUTION  247 


1476 


in  certain  of  the  Germanic  lands  did  the  imperial  power  come  ^;2m' 
into  direct  contact  with  the  peasants;  elsewhere  it  was  too  far 
off.  The  territorial  power,  especially  in  the  diminutive  politi- 
cal districts  of  the  southwest,  was  in  most  instances  harsh  and 
exacting.  Embarrassed  by  the  increased  cost  of  administration, 
and  still  more  by  military  necessities,  the  territorial  power  placed 
additional  burdens  upon  the  peasants.  And,  not  content  with 
increasing  the  burdens  of  the  peasants,  the  State,  like  the  lords 
of  the  manors,  pn^j-^arhpr!  npnn  tfiejr  rig^hts.  It  seized  the  com- 
mon lands,  the  pastures  and  the  still  more  valuable  woods  and 
forests;  it  could  not  even  restrain  the  transgressions  of  its  own 
agents ;  its  c^cials  plundered  the  common  man,  loaded  him  with 
fees  and  administrative  expenses,  and  practised  upon  him  everx 
r^ng^^vahle  act  of  violence.  The  necessities  of  tlie  political  life 
and  the  demands  of  high  politics  were  things  the  peasants  could 
not  understand.  They  saw  themselves  prejudiced  by  the  State 
and  kept  under,  and  they  found  it  to  be  no  helper  in  time  of  need. 
The  great  tendencies  of  national  life  either  surged  past  the  peas- 
ants or  whirled  them  to  destruction.  They  had  no  voice  in  the 
councils  of  State ;  the  aggressive  activity  of  the  capitalists  ground 
them  to  dust  whenever  they  were  in  its  way ;  and  neither  manor 
nor  State  cared  for  the  education  of  these  men  in  whom  lay 
fallow  so  rich  a  treasure  of  intellectual  and  moral  force  and  who, 
despite  all  the  discouraging  circumstances,  managed  in  a  few 
mighty  personalities  to  render  great  service  to  the  national  culture. 
Finally,  the  peasants  were  only  too  often  compelled  to  receive 
the  blessings  of  religion,  their  only  spiritual  refreshment,  and 
their  mainstay  in  the  hour  of  trouble,  from  the  hands  of  a  cor- 
rupt clergy.  It  availed  the  peasants  little  that  a  few  powerful 
personalities  from  their  ranks  won  a  place  for  themselves  in  the 
world.  The  generality  of  their  class  was  excluded  from  it. 
Yet  their  eyes  were  opening.  4^^ey  were  beginning  to  gaze  down 
the  vista  of  progress.  For  sometiine,  as  we  have  seen,  they  had 
ventured  to  criticize  the  upper  classes.  They  were  becoming  aware 
of  their  worth,  of  their  rights  as  well  as  their  duties.  Psychical 
causes  were  at  work.  The  revolution  was  at  hand.  It  was, 
then,  not  so  mugh  economic  distress  that  caused  the  peasants  to 
revolt  as  thdl^rose  of^^^ociaJ  exclusionrtheTX>werlessness^  under 
existing  conditlons/c^  defend^themsdv^jjyjawful^^^  against 
injustice  and  exploitation,  and  the  hopelessness  ol  waiting  for 
redress  at  the  hands  of  the  State. 

The  first  actual  outbreak  that  followed  the  Hussite  wars  and 
the  revolt  of  the  Swiss  peasants  took  place  in  the  spring  of 


1476  in  the  idyllic  ^^^n  gf  Wiirzhurg.    Hans  Boheim,  known 


1476 


248  THE  PROTESTANT  REVOLUTION 

as  the  Piper  of  Niklashausen,  was  a  son  of  that  mixed  race  (?> 
West-Franks  and  Swabians  whose  dreamy  and  deeply  rdigioo^ 
temperament,  combined  with  a  deep-seated  craving  for  freedom 
and  a  choleric  disposition,  made  them  ever  ready  to  receive 
revolutionary  suggestions;  and  who  were,  perhaps,  more  deeply 
moved  than  any  other  of  the  Germanic  peoples  by  the  dynamic 
TiM  ptptr  social  and  political  ideas  of  the  time.  One  day  this  peasant  piper 
•finkiu-  ij|.  ^  gj.^  before  the  pilgrimage  church  in  the  little  village  of 
Niklashausen  and  cast  into  the  flames  his  musical  instrum^^^i 
Then  turning  to  the  assembled  people  he  began  to  preach,     witn 


eloquent  words  he  told  them  of  a  vision  of  the  Mother  of  God 
who  had  informed  him  of  the  great  changes  that  were  at  hand. 
All  authority,  secular  and  ecclesiastical,  was  to  be  abolished,  all 
taxes  were  to  be  repealed  and  all  property  was  to  be  held  in  com- 
mon. Every  man  was  to  work,  even  the  bishops  and  the  barons 
were  to  earn  their  daily  wage,  for  one  man  is  as  good  as  another. 
The  kingdom  of  God  would  soon  come  upon  the  earth.  Em- 
perors and  popes,  princes  and  prelates,  would  all  disappear  and 
all  men  would  be  brothers.  Quickly  the  news  of  the  new  prophet 
was  carried  in  all  directions,  and  from  the  villages  and  coun- 
tryside around  came  crowds  to  hear  him.  His  teaching  was  not 
confined  to  the  inculcation  of  socialist  doctrines.  He  preached 
repentance  for  sins.  In  Niklashausen,  he  said,  which  was  spe- 
cially dedicated  to  the  Virgin  Mary,  there  was  more  grace  than 
in  Rome.  Whosoever  confessed  in  that  place  was  sure  of 
heaven.  Hans  was  soon  regarded  as  a  saint,  and  pilgrims  poured 
into  the  little  village  to  hear  him.  But  one  night  the  sleeping 
piper  was  spirited  away  by  a  troop  of  cavalry  and  imprisoned  at 
Wiirzburg.  There,  singing  a  hymn  of  his  childhood  to  Mary, 
he  perished  at  the  stake  and  his  ashes  were  thrown  into  the 
Mam!  Sometime  later  tiie  village  church  was  demolished.  But 
the  memory  of  the  piper-prophet  lived  on  among  the  peasants, 
who  for  forty  years  continued  to  meet  by  night  on  the  ruins  of  the 
little  church!  and  his  teachings  spread  far  and  wide. 

The  whole  south  and  south-west  of  the  empire  now  t)ecame  the 
center  of  seething  discontent  that  rapidly  developed  into  re- 
bellion. The  kind  of  shoe  usually  worn  by  the  peasants  was  one 
TiM  Bond,  tied  with  strings,  called  a  Bundschuh,  and  such  a  shoe,  the  sym- 
bol of  their  revolts,  they  aaopted "as  their  emblem;  while  for 
their  motto  they  chose  the  saying  "Only  what  is  just  before 
God."  They  d£Qiand«d-t;be  abolitmn^of  all  tithes,  f^g^oms^  a"j 
rent,  and  the  confiscation  of  all  property  belonging  to  the  Church 
anr^^thp  n^^^11ity.  At  that  time  nearly  two-thirds  of  the  land  in 
the  empire  was  owned-J^y  ecclesiastics.    Everywhere  coulT  b^ 


■e]iiih 


THE  SOCIAL  REVOLUTION  249 

heard  the  nmtterings  of  the  deepening  discontent,  in  the  inns  and     ^5^' 

the  hostdries, .  at  church  festivals,  in  the  city  workshops  and  in      

the  harvest  fields.  Ominous  harbingers  of  the  coming  storm  ^^•••w^* 
flitted  through  the  air.  Constant  uprisings  of  the  common  peo- 
ple that  were  quickly  quelled  ocyi^rred  in  ffie  third  quarter  of  the 
fifteenth  century.  But  the  cruel  treatment  of  the  defeated  in- 
surgents  did  not  stop  the  movement.  In  the  years  from  1490 
to  1503,  which  were  years  of  frequent  famine,  more  determined 
rebellions  took  place.  Qass  hatred  became  increased  in  bitter- 
ness. The  nobles  still  thought  they  could  safely  afford  to  despise 
the  masses.  They  failed  completely  to  understand  the  deep 
religious  and  social  needs  of  the  people.  They  had  not  yet  ex- 
perienced the  fearful  results  of  their  wrath.  They  still  deemed 
it  possible  to  extinguish  the  prevalent  discontent  by  brute  force. 
But  the  storm  of  the  social  revolution  continued  to  lower  over 
Germany,  and  lightning  flashes  continued  to  announce  its  com- 
ing. 

It  was  not  only  the  peasantry  that  continued  to  menace  the 
peace  of  the  land.  The  population  of  the  towns,  oppressed  with  The  otn 
similar  wrongs,  attempted  in  many  places  to  throw  oflF  their  SS?*' 
burdens  by  means  of  revolution.  There  was  no  economic  homo- 
geneity in  the  towns.  The  medieval  guilds  obstinately  held 
their  ground  and  were  able,  in  no  small  measure,  to  impede  the 
march  of  the  new  economic  forces,  to  keep  the  craftsmen  in  their 
ancient  subjection,  and  to  deny  to  many  an  aspiring  workman 
entrance  to  the  trade  he  desired  to  follow.  The  activity  of  the 
great  capitalistic  associations,  hated  and  feared  alike  by  the 
peasantry  and  the  proletariat,  boldly  pursued  its  conquering  way 
and  despised  the  outworn  prejudices  that  endeavored  to  obstruct 
its  path.  Thus  ly^th  the  giii1H<;  ^nd  the  new  capitalism  increased 
still  further  the  distance  between  t^^p  r\r]\  :md  i^e  poor  and 
enhanced  the  social  tension.  As  a  result  of  all  this  there  came 
to  be  two  distinct  classes  in  the  towns.  First,  there  was  a  thin 
superstratum  of  merchants,  manufacturers,  and  persons  of  pri- 
vate means,  who,  in  the  matter  of  social  development,  had  left 
the  proletariat  far  behind;  whose  life  was  comparatively  easy, 
rich  in  color,  and  full  of  enjoyment  To  them  the  expansion  of 
commerce  and  industry  were  ever  opening  up  new  sources  of 
wealth;  and  already  were  they  greedily  reaching  for  the  title  of 
nobility  and  aspiring  for  greater  influence  in  the  aflFairs  of  State. 
On  the  other  hand  there  stood  the  increasing  mass  of  those  who 
possessed  little  or  nothing;  —  the  numerous  artisans^  living  for 
the  most  part  in  modest  circumstances,  especially  the  \yeavers; 
the  small  trades-men,  who,  together  with  the  artisans,  were  op- 


250 


THE  PROTESTANT  REVOLUTION 


OHAP. 


14fS-160S 


YodBimd- 
schuliaiid 
Othor  Up- 
rliiiigs 


pressed  by  the  new  capitalism,  who  were  weakened  by  a  serious 
crisis  in  their  trade  and  threatened  with  a  speedy  reduction  to 
the  ranks  of  the  proletariat;  the  small  ^agricultural  holders  who 
lived  within  the  walls;  the  day  laborers  "the  domestic  servants^ 
the  journeyman  artisans;  aiTd,  finally,  the  professional  begyars 
and  other  shady  characters  who  formed  in  some  towns  no  small 
percentage  of  the  population.  In  the  disproportion  between 
these  two  municipal  classes  lies  one  of  the  deep-rooted  causes 
of  the  social  revolution.  It  was  one  of  the  most  important  of 
the  many  painful  rifts  that  were  appearing  in  the  social  life  of 
the  time.    All  these  members  of  the  second  class  had  been  in- 


The  time.  They  had  become  more  exigent  in  an  age  that 
increasingly  valued  the  pleasures  of  life ;  and  they  were  without 
political  rights.  So  it  was  with  envy  and  hate  that  they  looked 
up  to  the  possessors  of  wealth  and  power.  Nor  were  they 
without  specific  injustices  of  which  to  complain.  City  finances 
were  invariably  kept  secret  and  new  taxes  were  imposed  without 
the  consent  of  the  community.  So  demagogues  found  the  pro- 
letariat easy  of  persuasion.  "  Down  with  the  powerful  and 
junder  the  rich  "  became  a  popufif  watchword.  Tllius  it  was 
that  a  considerable  proportion  of  the  city  population  combined 
with  the  peasants  in  the  social  revolt.  These  continued  con- 
vulsions of  the  body  politic  made  thoughtful  men  look  with 
ixious  fear  into  the  future. 
A  lull  of  the  stpnp  of  scpme  ten  years  took  jjace  and  then  in 
15 15  the  iundschuh  broke  out  again,  in  the  country  of  the  upper 
Rhine,  with  redoubled  force.  Joss  Fritz,  a  soldier  who  had 
been  implicated  in  former  uprisings  of  the  peasantry  and  who 
had  fled  to  Switzerlamd,  was  the  leader.  Silently,  with  much 
power  of  persuasion  and  skill  of  organization,  he  had  prepared 
for  the  revolt.  The  league  included  many  supporters  in  the 
Breisgau,  in  Alsace,  and  in  Swabia.  The  authority  of  every 
master  except  the  pope  and  the  emperor  was  to  be  abolished; 
feudal  dues  were  to  cease;  and  the  woods,  the  fields,  and  the 
waters  were  to  be  free  to  all.  But  the  plans  were  discovered 
before  the  day  of  the  uprising  and  the  revolt  was  crushed  with 
pitTless  cfntlly.  Puur  ywiry  liwf  Uie  dauntless  leader  was  again 
busily  engaged  in  preparing  for  revolution;  but  again  his  plans. 
were  betrayed  untimely  and  once  more  rebellion  was  mercilessly 
suppressed.  One  of  the  most  threatening  of  all  the  uprisings 
was  caused  by  the  financial  exactions  of  the  tyrannous  duke  of 
Wiirtemberg.  It  broke  out  in  15 14  under  the  direction  of  a 
romantic  leader  named  "  Poor  Conrad."    Townsmen  and  peas- 


THE  SOCIAL  REVOLUTION  25; 

ants  and  members  of  the  middle-class  joined  in  the  insurrection     ^^j^- 

and  the  entire  insurgent  body  became  known  as  Der  arme  Kon-      

rod.  »"■« 

All  these  uprisings,  and  others  that  took  place  in  Hungary 
and  in  Austria,  were  premature.  Grievances  in  that  era  of 
change  the  "poor  folk"  had  in  abundance.  But  they  lacked  an  TheLoac- 
effective  leader.  The  powerful  impetus  that  mining  had  re-  ^JJ[J^ 
ceived  in  Germany  caused  a  marked  depreciation  in  the  pur^ 
chasing  power  of  money.  Later  on  there  came  a  rise  of  prices. 
These  things  made  the  old  burdens  of  the  poorer  classes,  in 
town  and  in  country  alike,  more  oppressive  than  ever.  The  con- 
temporary belief  that  all  this  was  due  to  the  arbitrary  and  wicked 
interference  of  men,  to  the  fiscal  policy  of  the  political  rulers 
and  to  the  manipulations  of  the  monopolists,  only  added  to  the 
bitterness  of  feeling  that  rapidly  increased  the  separation  of  the 
various  classes  of  society.  Ulrich  von  Hutten  passionately  de- 
nounced the  speculations  of  the  new  capitalism  and  its  effects. 
The  financial  exactions  of  the  papal  curia  gave  the  first  impetus 
to  ecclesiastical  revolt,  and  financial  distress  led  to  the  attack  upon 
civil  authority.  Such  were  the  grievances  that  the  people  suf- 
fered while  they  waited  for  a  hero  to  guide  them  out  of  the  land 
of  bondage.  At  last  the  great  leader  for  whom  they  had  longed 
so  passionately,  the  man  who  could  give  voice  to  their  hopes  and 
direct  their  aspirations,  was  at  hand.  He  did  not  come  from  a 
privil^ed  social  rank,  but  from  the  common  people.  Full  of  the 
spiritual  power  of  the  German  peasantry  that  as  yet  had  never 
revealed  itself  in  all  its  fullness,  sharing  their  deepest  loves  and 
their  bitterest  hates,  acquainted  with  the  most  intimate  emotions 
of  their  daily  lives,  he  was,  moreover,  brave  enough  to  take  the 
foremost  place  in  the  van  of  the  inevitable  attack.  Had  notj  \ 
his  great  doctrine  of  justification  by  faith  alone  emancipated  mam  » 
from  thraldom  to  the  hierarchy  ?  And  by  the  same  reasons  was 
not  man  justified  in  his  determination  to  secure  secular  freedom? 
How  could  the  individual  be  free  as  a  believer  and  a  slave  as  a 
man  ?    Surely  the  man  for  the  ^lour  was  Martin  Luther,  ^.— ■ 

Luther  did  not  leave  the  Germans  to  inference.  In  his  pam- 
phlet entided  ^t  ^^flf/flr  ^^^^^QTJ^y  a^d  how  far  it  should^  be  Lnthor's 
o^g^l^lUJit  spoke  directly  of  the  wrong-doings  of  the  secular  Jj^^- 
rulers.  *' Kingrs  are  nn^d^  for  their  people,"  he  said;  "they 
f^phf  »n  e^^if  /^niy  ^ij^p.  g^^d  of  thcir  subjccts.  But  the  princes 
have  not  ftalfilled  this  duty.  "  They  are  of  the  world,"  said  the 
bold  friar,  "and  the  world  is  the  enemy  of  God;  they  live  ac- 
cording to  the  world  and  against  the  law  of  God.  .  .  .  From  the 
bi^;inning  of  history  a  prudent  prince  has  been  a  very  rare 


252 


THE  PROTESTANT  REVOLUTION 


i«ai«i 


OKAP. 


1617-88 


SoeUlBf- 
f«ctsof 
Liitlitr's 
TeAcbingi 


thing,  an  upright  and  an  honest  prince  still  rarer.  They  are  gen- 
erally the  greatest  fools  or  the  greatest  scoundrels  in  the  world" 
It  was  easy  enough  for  the  masses  burning  with  their  wrongs  to 
pass  over  the  qualifying  statement  that  "  government  should  not 
be  opposed  with  force  but  with  knowledge  and  truth."  The 
voice  of  Luther  was  the  voice  of  the  people.  *'  Oh,  masters  and 
lords,"  he  adjured,  "  govern  with  moderation  and  justice.  Your 
subjects  will  not  long  put  up  with  your  tyranny.  This  is  no 
longer  what  it  once  was,  a  world  where  men  could  be  hunted 
like  wild  beasts."  Just  a  year  before  the  great  outbreak  he 
said:  ."The  laboring  man,  tried  beyond  all  endurance,  over- 
whelmed with  intolerable  burdens,  will  not  and  cannot  any  longer 
tamely  submit;  and  he  has  doubtless  good  reasons  for  striking 
with  the  flail  and  the  club  as  Hans  Pitchfork  threatens  to  do. 
I  am  delighted  so  far  to  see  the  tyrants  trembling." 

No  wonder  that  the  spokesman  of  such  bold  and  decided  words 
appeared  to  the  common  people  as  a  veritable  apostle  of  civil 
as  well  as  religious  liberty.  ^'UthfjTii  p^fir'^^^^tT  ^"Qrniffy^^^  "^ 
creased  and^  iry^jrnitiid  tht  in7Tinnrdi"^^^P  that  everywhere 
irom  Switzerland  to  the  Baltic  Sea  was  fiUmg  the  land  with 
tumult.  The  fuel  of  social  revolution  was  everywhere  ready  for 
the  flame  and  without  realizing  the  gravity  of  his  action  he 
flung  the  torch  that  kindled  the  conflagration.  When  the  peas- 
ants first  resorted  to  arms  he  insisted  upon  the  need  of  modera- 
tion. But  moderation  under  the  circumstances  was  out  of  the 
question.  And  many  of  his  followers  did  not  hesitate  to  urge 
the  insurgents  to  the  most  extreme  measures. 

We  have  seen  that  while  Luther  lay  concealed  in  the  Wart- 
burg  radical  preachers  stimulated  the  social  and  religious  fer- 
ment at  Wittenberg,  and  that  when  he  returned  to  restore  order 
the  extremists  left  the  Saxon  capital  to  carry  on  their  work  in 
other  places.  ^y^n^fiC^carried  on  his  iconoclastic  propaganda 
with  great  success  at  Allstedt,  a  little  town  in  Saxony,  until  his 
expulsion  was  secured  by  Duke  John  and  Duke  George,  a  brother 
and  a  cousin  of  the  Elector.  When  he  was  banished  from  All- 
stedt he  went  on  to  Miilhausen.  Only  two  months  elapsed, 
however,  before  he  was  expelled  from  there.  Then  he  became 
a  wandering  tj^issionary  in  south-western  Germany  sowing  every- 
where the  seeds  of  revolution.  Carlstadt  continued  his  revolu- 
tionary teachings  at  Orlamun'He^  Both  of  these  radicals 
preached  the  equality  of  all  men,  social  as  well  as  religious,  and 
appealed  to  force  for  the  destruction  of  all  who  stood  in  the  way 
of  their  program.  Other  preachers  in  other  places  were  equally 
incendiary.    In  the  pamphlets  of  the  time  that  flooded  the  coun«> 


THE  SOCIAL  REVOLUTION  253 


1688-S4 


try  the  peasantry  were  exalted  into  the  one  class  capable  of  re-  ^5m* 
generating  society.  They  were  wiser  than  the  lawyers  and  more 
learned  than  the  theologians.  It  was  Karsthans  and  New  Karst- 
hans,  the  typical  peasants,  who  alone,  in  the  satirical  literature 
of  the  time,  saw  the  way  of  social  salvation,  and  who  with  their 
rude  implements  stood  ready  to  clear  the  road  of  every  obsta- 
cle. It  was  evident  that  Germany  was  on  the  verge  of  a  tremen- 
dous social  upheaval.  Almanac-makers  and  astrologers,  whose 
prophecies  were  read  and  pondered  by  all  classes  of  society,  fore- 
told that  the  storm  would  burst  in  1524,  and  doubtless  the  predic- 
tion had  not  a  little  to  do  with  the  precipitation  ^f  ^h<>  r^tasfrtt" 

phe.  

It  will  be  remembered  that  at  the  Diet  of  Worms,  held  in  the 
first  months  of  1521,  the  attempt  was  made  to  settle  the  question 
of  the  imperial  government  by  restoring  the  Council  of  Regency  tim 
which  in  the  absence  of  the  Emperor  was  to  administer  the  af-  JJi^JJ 
fairs  of  Germany.  But  no  sooner  had  Charles  gone  to  Spain  terg 
after  the  Diet  was  over  than  the  Council  began  to  totter.  Be- 
cause of  the  lack  of  funds  with  which  to  carry  out  its  projects 
it  was  ineflfective  from  the  beginning.  All  the  centrifugal  forces 
in  the  empire,  all  the  vested  interests,  the  towns,  the  knights,  and 
the  princes,  were  making  for  its  speedy  dissolution.  At  thej»ec-^ 
ond  Diet  of  Nuremberg,  1524,  it  made  a  last  attempt  to  control 
the  imperial  govemmentT  But  the  task  was  jtoo  dfficulL  New 
problems  confronted  it  at  every  turn.  Germany  was  fast  divid- 
ing into  two  religious  parties,  and  toward  both  of  them  the 
Council,  though  inclined  somewhat  favorably  toward  Lutheran- 
ism,  tried  to  act  in  an  impartial  manner.  What  should  be  the 
attitude  of  the  imperial  government  toward  the  religious  ques- 
tion that  every  day  was  becoming  more  acute?  It  was  not  left 
to  the  Council  of  R^ency  to  decide.  It  was  obviously  impossible 
for  that  body  to  become  an  effective  factor  in  imperial  affairs 
without  provision  for  financial  support.  This  support  the  Diet 
refused  to  supply  and  thus  the  Estates  brought  about  the  practi- 
cal extinction  of  the  Council.  It  is  true  that  the  Council  con- 
tinued to  exist  imtil  1531.  But  it  was  a  mere  ghost.  With  the 
removal  of  this  obstacle,  never  a  formidable  one,  the  centrifugal 
forces  of  the  Empire  were  once  more  in  full  swing.  The  dis- 
order that  resulted  from  the  pursuit  of  their  own  particular  in- 
terests by  the  conflicting  elements  of  the  Empire  afforded  an  un- 
rivaled opportunity  for  a  general  insurrection  of  the  masses. 
With  the  Council  of  Regency  confirmed  in  its  impotency  it  was 
the  Estates  that  had  to  face  the  religious  question.  The  pafiSL 
attendance  at  the  Diet  demanded  the  renewal  of  the 


254 


THE  PROTESTANT  REVOLUTION 


OHAP. 


1A28-84 


OvtbrMk 

OftlM 
ChTMt 

War 


The 

Twelre 

ArUeles 


Edict  of  Worms.     The  Estates  prnmj^^H  fn  ^fnri>^  »h^  A^^^r^ 

^^^  far  as  ItTwais  possible  to  do  so/^  The  Papacy,  they  added, 
had  admitted  the  existence  of  serious  abuses.  So  a  general  coun- 
cil should  be  summoned  to  consider  the  ecclesiastical  situation. 
The  reply,  obviously  an  evasion,  failed  to  satisfy  either  Luther 
or  the  l^ate.  The  former  at  once  pointed  out  the  inconsistency 
of  the  Diet  By  promising  to  enforce  the  Edict  of  Worms  as 
far  as  it  was  able  the  Diets  he  said,  h^d  condemned  him :  yet  by 
demanding  a  general  council  in  which  he  should  be  given  an 
impartial  hearing  it  ha(^  acknowledged  that  such  a  condemnation 
was  premature.^  The  matter  was  taken  up  again  in  the  Con-^ 
•ess  of  Ratisbon  that  met  a  few  months  later.    In  the  mean- 


time  the  cleavage  between  the  t^o  religious  parties,  was  per- 
ceptibly widening  and  the  governmental  disorder  and  popular 
discontent  were  constantly  increasing. 

'It  is  not  surprising  that  under  such  circumstances  the  social 
revolution  broke  out  again  in  1524  with  greater  determination 
and  redoubled  fury.  All  the  various  causes  that  had  provoked 
the  previous  uprisings  had  for  some  time  been  increasingly  active. 
The  grievances  of  the  peasants  had  become  more  galling  than 
ever.  The  rpvnii;  hp^n  in  the  hamlet  of  Stiihlinp^.  not  far 
from  Schaffhausen,  where  the  Rhine,  that  pathway  of  missioiw 
aries  and  merchants,  rushes  on  its  way  from  Switzerland  into 
Germany.  Under  the  guidance  of  Hans  Muller,  a  former  lands- 
knecht,  a  thousand  peasants  made  their  way  down  the  river  to 
Waldshut  where  perhaps  they  hoped  to  be  joined  by  the  prole- 
tariat. The  lords  were  unprepared  and  resorted  to  a  protracted 
parleying  in  the  course  of  which  many  of  the  insurgents  returned 
to  their  homes.  But  the  insurrection  continued  to  manifpst  iU 
self  in  various  places  in  ^:he  region  of  Lake  Constance^ and  then 
spreading  northward  it  broke  out  among  the  peasants  in  the. 
^lack  Forest.  A  conference  ol  representatives  of  the  rebels  met 
at^emmmgen  in  which  an  Evangelical  Brotherhood,  that  em- 
phasized the  religious  aspect  of  the  movement,  was  organized  and 
the  famous  Twelve  Articles  were  adopted. 

The  Twelve  Articles  in  their  essential  details  had  been  fore- 
shadowed by  the  lists  of  grievances  drawn  up  in  previous  social 
insurrections.  The  peasants  demanded  (i)  the  right  to  choose 
tJTgir  own  pastors  who  should  preach  the  unadulterated  Gospel; 
(2)  exemption  from  the  small  tithe ^  (3)  release  from  serfdom : 
(4)  the  right  to  fish  and  hunt;  f  q)  a^share  in  the  forests  for  their 
household  needs;  (6)  a  mitigation  of  feudal  services;  77"^  pay- 
ment_for  all  labor  in  addition  to  the  contracted  requirements; 
reduction  of  rc^itSJ  (9)  security  against  illegal  punish- 


THE  SOCIAL  REVOLUTION  255 

ment  and  a  return  to  the  old  law;    (10)   the   restoration  of     ^Sn' 

thft  rmpmnti   lands*    (li)    the   olv^Htiriry   qf   the  rlpath   duty  that 


permitted  the  seizure  of  the  most  valuable  chattel  ot  the  deceased  *•**"•* 
tenant;  and  (12)  the  submission  of  these  demands  to  the  test 
of  Scripture,  it  being  promised  that  every  demand  not  in  ac- 
cordance  with  the  biblical  teaching  should  be  withdrawn.  It  is 
uncertain  to  whom  the  drafting  of  the  articles  is  due;  but  that 
is  not  a  matter  of  great  importance,  for  the  main  demands  had 
long  been  fermenting  in  the  minds  of  the  lower  classes  and  the 
problem  at  Memmingen  must  have  been  merely  one  of  selection 
and  phraseology.  The  articles  are  doubtless  wider  in  scope  than 
were  the  grievances  of  the  peasants  in  any  one  particular  lo- 
cality and  therefore  they  may  be  regarded  as  giving  expression 
to  the  entire  movement.  They  are  remarkably  restrained  and 
dignified  in  tone,  and  temperate  and  reasonable  in  character. 
Every  demand  is  written  carefully  and  clearly,  and  every  one 
carried  its  justification  upon  its  face. 

The  Twelve  Articles  were  circulated  throughout  the  empire 
with  great  rapidity.     But  they  were  rejected  with  contempt  by  b^jmum 
the  lords  whr^  rnntiniied  their  trick  of  protracting  negotiations  ^^^ 
sn  as  fn  pi\n  timi^  in  which  to  gather  their  forces.    The  insur-  and 
rection  spread  \\\^^  ^jj^l-firA^  from  village  to  village,  and  from  ^f^^^ 
province  to  province.     From  the  shores  of  Lake  Constance  and  Jjj**"" 
the  north  bank  of  the  upper  Rhine  the  conflagration  spread  into 
the  farthest  parts  of  the  old  Swabian  duchy.    Then  toward  the 
east  it  spread  into  Salsburg,   Styria,  and  Tyrol;  and  toward 
the  north  into  the  Rhenish  Palatinate.     In  the  early  spring  of 
1525  nearly  all  Germany  was  in  the  throes  of  revolution.    Qnly- 
Bavaria  and  a  few  provinces  in  the  far  north  and  north-east  were 
exempt  frQm  thy  npheflval.     The  proletariat  pf  the  towns,  linked 
by  their  common  grievances  and  hostilities,  joined  the  peaganjs- 
The  ranks  of  the  insurgents  were  further  swelled  by  the  influx 
of  criminals  and  other  rpystpring  r#>rriiitg  who  sought  to  gain 
their  own  private  ends  amid  the  general  uproar,  and  very  soon 
these  undesirable  Sillies  by  their  violence  and  cruelty  brought  the 
mQy^jnt^X  jntft  t1i°TPp;it^,     Castles  and  convents  were  pillaged 
and  burned,  towns  were  occupied,  and  here  and  there  regrettable 
atrocities  were  committed.    The  insurgents  met  with  many  suc- 
cesses, and  in  the  heat  of  their  apparently  successful  rebellion 
their  demands  went  far  beyond  the  modest  stipulations  of  the 
Twelve  Articles,  extending  to  the  social  equality  of  all  men  and 
uniformity  in  the  possession  of  property.    But  they  lacked  an 
effective  general  organization  and  were  unaccustomed  to  military 
disqpHne,  and  so  when  the  dissensions  that  were  inevitable  in  such 


2s6 


THE  PROTESTANT  REVOLUTION 


1584-85 


LttthMT'f 

Kapvdift- 
tioaof  tte 


1 


motley  armies  began  to  appear  among  them,  especially  the  jiffer* 

between  the  extremists  and  the 
ates^uieir  siiuation  became  pi'fiCaHous!  The  insurgent  armies 
suffered  a  series  of  grave  disasters  at  the  hands  of  the  princes. 
Atrocious  reprisals,  such  as  the  tearing  out  of  the  eyes  of  fifty- 
nine  inhabitants  of  Kitzingen  and  the  prohibiting  of  any  one  to 
give  them  assistance  of  any  kind,  filled  their  hearts  with  fear. 
Then  the  revolution  was  gradually  gt^pipeij  gnf  x^\\i  nnoaralleled 
cruelty.  At  least  a  hundred  thousand  peasants  had  been  de- 
stroyed, and  other  untold  thousands  were  homeless  fugitives. 
The  revolt  failed  to  effect  any  improvement  in  the  hard  lot  of 
the  peasantry.  Indeed,  it  served  only  to  sink  them  deeper  in 
serfdom  and  they  remained  until  the  beginning  of  the  nineteenth 
century  the  most  oppressed  ot  all  the  country  folk  of  Europe. 

Tut  it  was  not  oniy  tne  peasantry  and  the  proletariat  that  suf- 
fered  from  such  brutal  repression.    Germany's  leadership  in 
the  religious  life  of  Europe  passed  to  other  lands,  and  her  proucL 
scholarship  and  awakening  firt  sank  intn  ignomininnt  silfinff 

^t  was  no  mere  implicit  sanction  that  Luther  had  lent  to  the 
struggle  of  the  peasantry  to  improve  their  condition.  He  had 
spoken  in  unmistakable  terms  of  the  wrong-doings  of  the  secu- 
lar authorities,  and  he  had  preached  the  doctrine  that  govern- 
ment exists  for  the  benefit  of  the  governed.  What,  then,  was 
his  attitude  toward  the  revolution  that  had  resulted  from  the 
determination  of  the  masses  to  secure  an  amelioration  of  their 
condition?  When  in  the  belief  that  he  was  in  sympathy  with 
their  aspirations  the  peasants  sent  him  a  copy  of  their  Twelve 
Articles  and  asked  him  for  his  opinion  of  their  demands  he 
paused  to  warn  the  rulers  to  put  an  end  to  their  tyranny,  and 
then,  admitting  the  justice  and  reasonableness  of  some  of  the 
articles,  denounce^,  y/itt]  T{}hU  ;«  l^^nH,  tVi<>  dglTl^"^^  ^"^  thf*  ?^^^^'-- 
tion  of  serfHnpi  fgjbade  the  peasants  to  resort  \q  the  use  of 
arm§'"g!Tj'advised  that  the  yfljole  prnhlpm  rViquM  be  solved  by 
negotiation.  Continued  endurance  of  the  old  wrongs;  contin* 
uea  siiDmission  for  the  sake  of  G9J  to  their  age-long  burdens  I 
Such  Wis  Cuther's  message  to  the  peasants.  Little  wonder 
it  was  received  with  bitter  disappointment.  Little  wonder  it  was 
disobeyed.  The  answer  of  the  leader  for  whom  they  had  waited 
so  long  and  yearned  so  passionately  was  but  another  sorrow. 
When  Luther  saw  that  his  advice  was  not  heeded  he  began  to 
denounce  the  insurgents.  "  Peasants  must  bear  the  crack  of  the 
whip  and  the  whiz  of  the  bullet,"  he  said ;  "  if  they  refuse  to 
obey,  let  the  cannon  balls  whistle  among  them  or  they  will  make 
things  a  thousand  times  worse."    Doubtless,  in  addition  to  being 


THE  SOCIAL  REVOLUTION  257 


disgruntled  with  the  refusal  of  the  peasants  to  follow  his  advice, 

he  feared  that  the  social  revolution  would  endanger  the  success 

of  the  ecclesiastical  revolution  of  which  he  was  the  leader.     **■*••• 

Whatever  may  have  been  the  reason,  his  invectives  against  the 

rebels  became  ever  more  vehement.    "Dear  lords,"  he  urged, 

"  smite,  stab,  destroy  .  .  .  Whoever  dies  fighting  for  authority 

is  a  martyr  before  God  ...  I  pray  every  one  to  depart  from  the 

peasants  as  from  the  devil  himself."    Strange  words  to  proceed 

from  the  lips  of  a  man  who  was  himself  the  greatest  rebel  of  his 

time!    They  were  words  that  reacted  upon  the  spokesman  and 

the  cause  he  cherished,  for  T^uthep  r^pj^V  ^^^t  ^k^  g^^^  ^"^"  ^^ 

the  people ;  and,  lacking  the  support  of  the  masses,  his  oiyn  rpvfvlt 

was  r1rtivftr<^  mm  flip  hataHs  ni  tVip  j^flf-c^Utng  prinfff^       From 

that  tmie  on  both  he  and  the  cause  he  represented  deteriorated. 
In  both  of  them  it  is  easy  to  see  a  marked  decline  in  spirituality 
and  a  corresponding  emphasis  upon  dogmatism.  Disowned  as  a 
leader  of  thotight  and  the  aspirations  of  the  people,  a  position 
for  which  he  was  fitted  above  all  other  men  of  the  time,  Luther 
became  a  mere  theologian.  And  the  church  to  whose  construc- 
tion his  energies  and  his  interests  became  confined  was  narrowly 
circtmiscribed  by  the  personal  dictation  of  the  political  rulers 
upon  whom  it  depended.  ^, 

One  reason  for  the  failure  of  the  social  revolution  of  the  six- 
teenth century  was  that  the  insurgents,  armed  with  few  weapons  Wkjit 
other  than  farming  implements,  larWpH  ^3figient  organization  Sd  ^^^ 
and  therefore  they  suffered  an  easy  defeat  at  the  hands  a«foi». 


(^Wlf«)| 


of  the  trained  forces,  clad  in  mail  and  commanded  by  experi-  SStd 
enced  officers,  that  confronted  them.  But  there  is  a  deeper 
reason,  ^^ffl  thfi  dfirP^"^*8  ^f  tht  rthrh  ^^"t  beyond  the 
Twelve  Ar^j^-lpj;  they  went  beyond  the  possibilities  of  the  time  and 
became  impracticable.  Indeed,  they  went  beyond  the  possibilities 
of  our  own  time,  for  they  went  beyond  democracv  and  arrivqd| 
at  socialism.  Like  so  many  other  revolutionaries,  the  peasantsi^ 
too  sharply  with  the  past,  and  so  they  added  one  more 
pathetic  failure  to  the  long  list  of  the  attempts  of  men  to  throw 
off  intolerable  burdens  with  a  single  sudden  stroke. 


CHAPTER  XIV 


PROTESTANTISM   AND  THE  BALANCE  OF  POWER 


1621-2e 


OluurtosV 
did  not 
Biiforo0 
thoBdlet 
of  Wovns 


1.  Why  the  Edict  of  Worms  was  not  Enforced. 

2.  Lutheranism  as  a  Political  Power. 

3.  The  French  King  and  the  German  Protestants. 

4.  The  Schmalkaldic  War. 

THE  Diet  at  Worms  in  1521  had  placed  Luther  tinder  the 
ban  of  the  empire.  Charles  V  had  left  Germany  in  the 
belief  that  the  edict  would  be  enforced  and  thereby  an  end  made 
of  the  religious  trouble.  But  such  was  not  to  be  the  case.  Three 
thin^  prevented  the  execution  of  the  edict;  the  cpnditioq  of 
Germany,  a  rebellion  in  Spain,  and  war  with  France.  Some- 
thing  of  the  condition  of  Germany  we  have  seen.  The  particu- 
laristic interests  were  ready  to  sacrifice  anything,  religious  or 
national  welfare,  in  order  to  gain  their  own  selfish  ends.  A 
complexity  of  causes  contributed  to  incite  the  revolt  in  Spain, 
the  most  immediate  of  them  being  the  thoughtless  ^jyniRgial  ^f 
^r^nif^^  oflGice-holdei^  their  replacement  by  officials  from  the 
Netherlands,  and  the  general  dislike  oLagj^'rogant  foreign  king. 
It  is  true  that  Charles  was  mlich  more  of  a  Spaniard  than  a 
German;  but  he  was  also  much  more  of  a  Burgundian  than  a 
Spaniard.  The  revolt  was  suppressed  in  Castile  before  the  ar- 
rival of  Charles,  but  there  was  much  to  do  in  Aragon.  Finally 
the  uprisings  were  put  down  and  peace  restored.  Then  the  im- 
pending war  between  Francis  and  Charles  broke  out.  Italy  was 
the  battle-ground.  The  important  victory  of  the  imperialist 
forces  in  1522  at  Bicocca  led  to  the  evacuation  of  Milan  by  the 
French.  Personal  differences  between  Francis  andjiis.nipst 
powerful  vassal  the  Quke  of  Bourbon,  whose  head  was  full  of 
schemes  for  personal  aggrandizement,  l)rought  about  the  defec- 
tion of  that  prince  to  the  imperial  banner.  Bourbon  hoped  for 
the  dismemberment  of  his  country  and  the  creation  for  himself 
of  a  new  kingdom  in  the  center  and  south  of  France.  But 
France  rose  to  the  support  of  its  king.  Bourbon,  who  had  made 
an  unsuccessful  attack  upon  Marseilles,  fled  before  the  approach 
of  Francis,  and  the  latter  crossed  the  Alps  and  retook  much  of 

258 


PROTESTANTISM  AND  THE  BALANCE  OF  POWER   259 


the  territory  from  which  his  troops  had  been  driven.  The  battle 
of  Pavia,  however,  fought  on  February  25,  1525,  resulted  in  his 
defeat  and  capture.  After  a  captivity  of  eleven  months  he 
signed  the  treaty  of  Madrid  by  which  he  renounced  his  claims  to 
Milan,  Genoa,  and  Asti,  surrendered  the  overlordship  of  Flan- 
ders, Artois,  and  Toumai,  and  engaged  to  secure  from  the  States- 
General  and  the  Parlement  of  Paris  the  cession  of  that  part  of 
Burgundy  which  France  had  taken,  or,  failing  in  that,  to  return 
to  prison.  But  no  sooner  had  Francis  set  foot  on  French  soil 
than  he  repudiated  the  agreement. 

It  was  not  a  difficult  matter  for  Francis  to  start  intrigues 
against  the  growing  power  of  Charles.  So  vast  an  empire 
seemed  to  threaten  many  interests.  In  May,  1526,  the  league  of 
Cognac  was  formed.  It  consisted  of  France,  Milan,  Venice, 
Florence,  and  the  Papacy.  The  reigning  pontiff  was  Clement 
VII  (1523-34),  an  illegitimate  nephew  of  Lorenzo  de'  Medici, 
who  for  the  sake  of  his  house  as  well  as  that  of  the  Papal  State 
desired  the  success  of  Francis.  All  of  the  confederates  were 
inspired  by  the  dread  of  an  overwhelming  preponderance  of 
power  on  the  part  of  Charles.  Meanwhile  the  Turk  was  creep- 
ing steadily  westward.  Belgrade  was  captured  in  1521,  Rhodes 
was  taken  in  1522,  and  with  the  battle  of  Mohacs  in  1526  the 
greater  part  of  Himgary  was  won.  But  such  was  the  condition 
of  western  Europe  that  no  concerted  action  could  be  taken  to 
stay  the  Moslem  advance.  Not  a  great  deal  came  of  the  new 
league.  The  members  were  irresolute,  and  so  the  imperial  forces 
continued  to  be  successful  in  northern  Italy.  On  May  6,  1527, 
a  body  of  German  landsknechts,  joined  by  the  half -starved  Spanish 
troops  under  Bourbon,  and  by  straggling  Italian  soldiers,  took 
Rome,  and  for  eight  days  the  city  was  given  over  to  all  the  hor- 
rors of  lust  and  loot.  Thirty  thousand  inhabitants  lost  their 
lives,  by  fire,  sword,  famine,  and  plague;  and  thirteen  thousand 
houses  were  burned.  The  French  sent  additional  forces  to  Italy 
only  to  meet  with  reverses.  The  situation  seemed  hopeless  to 
the  pope,  so  he  became  reconciled  to  Charles;  and  then,  on 
August  3,  1529,  peace  was  ^IgneA  hetw^pt^  Francis  and  Charles.  . 
at  Cambray.  Charles  was  not  reluctant  to  cease  hostilkies  with 
France.  Spain  and  Germany  required  all  the  attention  he  could 
give  them.  Then,  too,  the  Turks  were  advancing  up  the  valley 
of  the  Danube,  and  they  were  to  be  stopped  only  by  the  stout 
walls  of  Vienna  and  the  approach  of  reinforcements  for  the 
Christian  cause.  . 


OEAF. 


1621-20 


The 
Stmfgto 


OhmzlMV 

and 

Fnnelil 


We  must  now  turn  our  attention  to  the  development  of  Luther- 
anism  and  see  how  it  became  a  political  power.    When  Charles 


THE  PROTESTANT  REVOLUTION 


OHAP. 


1681-Se 


lAtter- 


camea 

FoUUttl 

Powvr 


left  Germany  in  1522  he  had  left  behind  him  two  serious 
problems,  the  political  and  the  religious.  He  thought  he  had 
solved  the  former  by  the  establishment  of  the  Council  of 
Regency,  and  the  latter  by  the  Edict  of  Worms.  But  the  coun- 
cil, without  power  to  enforce  its  regulations,  met  with  complete 
failure.  Central  authority  was  a  fiytion  and  particularism 
reigned  supreme.  And  conditions  were  such  as  to  make  any 
attempt  to  enforce  the  edict  foredoomed  to  certain  defeat.  So 
Lutheranism  went  on  its  way.  It  gathered  to  its  support,  as  we 
have  seen,  a  number  of  influential  princes.  It  had  been  com- 
pelled to  rely  upon  those  princes  to  a  far  greater  extent  than 
would  otherwise  have  been  the  case  by  the  attitude  of  Luther 
toward  the  social  revolution.  Charles,  however,  was  obstinate. 
He  was  determined  that  the  edict  should  be  carried  out.  He 
was  densely  ignorant  regarding  the  character  of  the  social  revo- 
lution, deeming  it  to  be  nothing  but  an  uprising  of  the  Lutherans. 
Lutheranism,  he  was  resolved,  should  be  rooted  out;  and  once 
his  hands  were  free  the  task  could  be  accomplished  with  no 
great  difficulty.  An  attempt,  then,  to  suppress  the  German 
heresy  seemed  to  be  impencting.  So  two  parties  began  to  ionn. 
In  tfie  Imperial  .paitv  were,  among  others,  Duke  George  of  Al- 
bertine  Saxony,  the  electors  of  Brandenburg  and  Mainz,  and 
Duke  Henry  of  WolfenbiitteL  The  principal  members  of  the 
Lutheran  leagifg  were  the  elector  John  of  Ernestine  Saxony, 
and  Philip  of  Hesse.  When  the  diet  met  ^t  Spires  in  Jime,  1526, 
Charles,  still  detained  in  Spain,  was  represented  by  his  brother 
Ferdinand  of  Austria.  He  demanded  the  unconditional  en- 
forcement of  the  Edict  of  Worms.  Should  the  edict  be  executed, 
he  promised,  pressure  would  be  brought  to  bear  upon  the  pope 
to  summon  a  general  council  in  which  the  religious  difficulty 
might  be  settled.  The  diet  declined  to  enfprce,,ih$L.edict  and 
decided  that  indemnity  should  be  "granted  for  past  offenses 
against  the  edict,  and  that  until  a  general  council  should  be  held 
in  a  German  city,  each  State  should  so  conduct  its  religioujj  .ai- 
f airs  '*  as  it  hoped  to  answer  for  its  conduct  to  God  and  tl^e 
'mperor."  it  would  scarcely  be  possible^ldnconstruct  a  more 
gelatinous  stipulation.  It  meant,  practically,  that  for  the  time 
being  each  one  of  the  innumerable  political  divisions  of  Germany 
was  at  liberty  to  conduct  its  religious  affairs  as  it  saw  fit.  Thus 
national  action  jyjth  regard  tf^  thp  T^itVipran  problem  was  sus- 
pended  indefinitely;  and,  in  the  meantime,  the  confroT oreccTesi- 
asticaT  matters  "passed  to  the  princes  and  the  free  towns. 

This  right  of  the  princes  to  determine  ecclesiastical  condi** 


PROTESTANTISM  AND  THE  BALANCE  OF  POWER  a6i 


1686-M 


tioDS  in  their  territories  was  a  fortunate  thing  for  Luther  whose 
propaganda,  now  that  he  had  abandoned  the  peasants  and  the 
proletariat  in  their  desperate  efforts  to  sectu'e  social  ameliora- 
tion and  had  cast  in  his  lot  with  the  princes,  would  have  perhaps 
fared  ill  with  a  democratic  form  of  Church  government  and 
would  certainly  have  suffered  had  the  central  government  vig*  Tht; 
orously  opposed  any  such  assumption  of  authority  on  the  part  tSSlH^ 
of  the  various  political  divisions  of  Germany.  It  was  the  be- 
ginning of  the  d^nite  organization  of  a  Lutheran  chur^  i;^ 
e^ch  nf  |.he  pi  ingpal'*^^^*^  ^^^t  had  espoused  Luther's  cause, 
.uther  did  not  fail  to  see  the  opportunity  afforded  by  the  res- 
pite and  to  make  the  most  of  it.  All  his  energy  was  devoted 
to  the  aid  of  the  princes.  He  cut  himself  loose  completely  from 
all  democratic  ideas  of  ecclesiastical  organization  and  enjoined 
obedience  in  all  things  to  the  territorial  ruler.  He  provided  for 
visits  to  the  various  parishes  to  see  that  the  incumbents  were 
conducting  their  duties  in  a  fitting  manner.  Episcopal  jurisdic- 
tion, of  course,  had  been  abolished.  The  princes  had  replaced 
the  bishop^  In  them  resided  all  the  powers  oF  ecclesiastical 
government  They  it  was  who  were  the  guardians  of  doc- 
trine, the  dispensers  of  ecclesiastical  justice,  the  custodians  of 
ecclesiastical  property  and  revenue,  the  patrons  of  benefices,  and 
the  persecutors  of  dissent.  There  was  much  to  do,  too,  in  the 
matter  of  ritual  and  doctrine.  In  these  things  Luther  did  not 
make  so  wide  a  departure  from  Catholicism  as  did  Zwingli  and 
Calvin.  He  retained  the  mass  with  the  exception  that  it  was 
celebrated  in  the  vernacular  instead  of  Latin  and  substituted  for^ 
transubsta"t^^^^"j  which  teaches  that  the  bread  and  wine  are 
changed  into  the  actual  body  and  blood  of  Christ,  the  theory  of 
rnnQii|^<&taT^I^*flttn«^  xuh\rh  maintains  that  the  body  and  blood  are 
present,  without  actual  change^^  in_  tro Jbrcad  and  wme^just  as 
re  IS  present  in  red-hot  inni.  He  wrote  a  numt>er  of  fine  hymns^ 
among  them  his  £iV  feste  Burg  ist  unser  Gott,  which  Heine  has 
called  the  Marseillaise  of  the  Protestant  Revolution.  He  pul> 
lished  a  German  <;atechism^  an4  alsp  an  abridgment  of  it,  "  a 
f^ht  Bible,"  he  said,  "  for  tEe  laity."  The  strength  of  Luther- 
anism  as  a  new  religion  lay  in  its  message  of  "the  spiritual  liber^ 
trfTiaii,  uf  llie  Siiitaaency  of  individual  faith,  oi  treedom'from 
dl&pei1dl!!l£(  upon  the  elaborate  apparatus  of  a  mediatorial  sac- 
ramental system  in  the  exclusive  keeping  of  a  highly  organized 
Churdi.  There  was  much  that  was  vague  in  Luther's  teaching 
at  first,  much  that  was  inspiring  and  opened  limitless  vistas  of 
religious  thought    But  this  element  evaporated.    It  passed  into 


262 


THE  PROTESTANT  REVOLUTION 


mysticism  or  Anabaptism.  Lutheranism  itself,  its  doctrine  and 
its  discipline,  became  crystallized.  It  V^amfi  ^opnatiCy  as  much 
so  as  the  Church  from  which  it  b"*^  «irpanitfifli 

d  diet  at  Spires  in  iq2Q  the  ^lauseJn  the  ordinance 


1029-SO 


ThtProi- 
Mtanti 
and  the 
Summou 
lotlMm 
to  Submit 


At  the  sec 

of  1526  upon  which  the  foundation  of  the  Lutheran  territorial 
churches  was  based  was  revoked.  The  Lutheran  princes  and  the 
fowns  ot  soutiiem  Germany,  the  two  most  formidable 


.wm 


and  antagonistic  of  the  separate  elements  that  went  to  make  up 
Germany,  joined  in  a  protest  against  this  action,  "  a  protest,  let 
us  remember,  not  for  the  subjects  treeaom  10  choose,  but  for 
his  sovereign's  to  prescribe  " ;  and  it  is  this  protest  that  gave  to 
all  the  schismatics  of  the  century,  whether  or  no  they  deserved 
or  desired  it,  the  name  of  Protestants.  It  was  in  the  very  pleni- 
tude of  his  power  and  on  the  eve  of  his  return  to  Germany  that 
this  defiant  protest  to  the  Emperor  was  made.  It  is  true  Charles 
was  more  powerful  in  appearance  than  in  reality.  The  vast  ex- 
tent of  his  dominions  and  the  problems  that  pressed  upon  him 
for  solution  from  all  sides  made  it  impossible  for  him  to  give 
any  one  part  of  his  empire  the  attention  it  required.  Yet  he 
seemed  as  able  as  he  was  impatient  to  take  up  the  problem  of 
the  German  heresy  that  had  been  so  long  delayed.  The  diet  wa^ 
opened  at  Augsburg_on  June  20,  1530^  Charles  wished  to  settle 
tlie  diiterences  by  persuasion ;  should  this  fail,  however,  he  was 
ready  to  proceed  to  the  use  of  force.  Luther,  being  under  the 
ban  of  the  empire,  was  not  present.  The  mild  and  timid 
Melanchthon  took  his  place  as  the  adviser  of  the  Protestant 
princes.  It  was  he  who  drew  up  the  Confession  of  Augsburg. 
He  aimed  to  reduce  the  diflFerences  betwegn  Catholicism  and 
Lutfieranism  to  a  minimum.  iTie  Confession  gives  a  brief  ex- 
position  of  the  doctrine  of  justifacAtlOii  by  faitn  alone,  and  then 
itenUTiierjlies  tlie  b^els  and  practices  oi  Catholicism  to  which 
theTTiriliKiaus  caiium  bubseilbe-^Luiiipulsuiy  celiiacvL.  of  the 


clergy^l  transubstantiatioh"  compulsory  auricular  confession, 
monastic  vows,  and  the  exercise  of  secular  authority  by  ecclesi- 
astical officials.  The  Confession  is  a  faithful  reflection  of  the 
conciliatory  character  of  its  author.  It  was  signed  by  the  elector 
of  Saxony,  his  son  John  Frederick,  margrave  George  of  Bran- 
denburg-Ansbach,  dukes  Ernest  and  Francis  of  Liineburg,  land- 
grave Philip  of  Hesse,  Prince  Wolfgang  of  Anhalt,  and  by  the 
del^;ates  of  Nuremberg  and  Reutlingen.  Ziyjngli,  whn  looked 
with  scorn  upon  so  mild  an  apologia,  drew  up  a  statement  of  his 
own  in  which  he  boldly  published  his  diflFerences  from  Catholi- 
cism. FourJxMvns  in  southern  Germany,  although  they  had  ac- 
cepted the  Zwinglian  creedsTwere  not  willing  to  sanction  so  dar- 


PROTESTANTISM  AND  THE  BALANCE  OF  POWER   263 

ing  a  deed.    So  they  drew  up  a  third  Confession.    The  Lutheran     ^5?^* 
statement  was  answered  by  a  Catholic  "  Confutation "  which 


displays  some  signs  of  the  purifymgf  piuLCSii  llial  Catholic  be-  1880-84 
liefs  were  undergoing  and  that  culminated  at  the  Council  of 
Trent,  but  which  made  such  slight  concessions  that  even  Melanch- 
thon,  eager  as  he  was  for  compromise,  was  not  satisfied.  A 
conmiittee  of  fourteen  was  then  appointed  to  reach  a  temporary 
working  compromise  and  to  leave  as  few  disputed  points  as 
possible  for  settlement  by  the  next  general  council.  This  at- 
tempt also  failed,  and  then  Charles  accepted  the  "  Confutation  " 
as  a  statement  of  his  own  faith.  On  September  22  the  Catholic 
majority  in  the  ^ifft  ^^<^*^d  »^  givfi  t^^JLl!!^^'^"■':  si?^.  months 
grace  in  yiW\c\\  tn  HpriH^;  ^^ipther  they  would  conform  "tQ._iEe 
Confutation^  If  on  April  15  of  the  following  year  they  were 
not  ready  to  subscribe  to  it  they  were  to  be  coerced.  So  did  the 
diet  end,  a  failure  in  its  purpose  or"cbmpromise  and  concilia- 
tion, a  drawn  battle. 

It  was  a  traditional  privilege  of  the  imperial  estates  to  join 
together  in  unions  or  leagues.    Of  this  privilege  the  Protestant 
princes  and  delegates  of  cities  availed  themselves  on  the  last  day 
of  the  year  when  in  the  little  town  of  Schmalkalden  they  formed  whjtiie 
the  league  that  took  its  name  from  the  place  of  its  birth  and  that  J^f^ 
included  nearly  all  northern  GermAny  and  the  more  important  !>•  Bn- 
towns  in  the  south.    They  made  themselves  ready  to  resist  the  '•'*•* 
expected  attempt  at  repression.     But  the  period  of  grace  al- 
lotted to  the  Lutherans  came  to  a  quiet  end.     It  was  impossible 
for  Charles  to  enforce  the  decision  of  the  diet.    Trouble  was 


brewing  on  every  side.  The  Jurks  were  advancing  upon 
Vienna;  the  pope  disliked  the  talk  of  a  general  council,  and  he 
was  not  a  very  reliable  supporter  of  the  imperial  interests  in 
Italy ;  one  heresy  was  rife  in  northern  Germany  and  another  in 
Switzerland;  all  was  not  quiet  in  the  Netherlands;  Moslem 
pirate  were  ravaging  the  coasts  of  Sicily  and  Spain,  and  the 
latter  country  was  especially  clamorous  for  its  ruler's  presence; 
the  relations  with  Henry  of  England  were  by  no  means  friendly ; 
and,  finally,  fiance  was'lfrefcoretlable.  When  the  diet  met  at 
Nuremberg  in  July,  1532,  Charles  realized  that  he  was  power- 
less to  bring  force  to  bear  upon  the  Lutherans  and  so  he  agreed 
to  another  extension  of  the  period  of  peace  for  the  dissenters. 
For  a  brief  time  the  emperor  was  now  comparatively  free  to 
turn  his  attention  to  the  Turks.  But  the  sultan  Solyman  and 
his  army,  having  been  repulsed  at  Guns,  retreated;  and  Charles 
failed  to  follow  them  up  and  recover  Hungary.  Then  he 
crossed  the  Alps  into  Italy  to  make  secure  his  interests.    Once 


264 


THE  PROTESTANT  REVOLUTION 


1588^0 


OharlMiB 
Italy  and 
▲ftiea 


Pallura 
of  the 
PoUcy 
of  Becon- 
cillatloii 


more  the  ecclesiastical  revolution  had  found  safety  in  the  yast 
extent  of  the  emperor's  possessions.  The  innumerable  demands 
upon  his  time  and  energy  had  made  it  impossible  for  Charles 
to  attempt  the  suppression  of  the  heresies  that  divided  Ger- 
many. They  had  given  additional  time  to  the  revolution,  and 
time  was  its  chief  requisite.  For  another  decade  Protestantism 
was  allowed  to  develop  as  best  it  cotdd. 

Charles  hoped,  by  binding  the  Italian  States  to  him  with  per- 
sonal ties,  to  shut  out  France  and  thus  preserve  peace  in  the 
peninsula.  To  this  task  he  devoted  himself  for  a  time  with 
some  success.  Then  he  turned  his  attention  to  Tunis,  a  nest 
of  Moslem  pirates  who  were  heacied  by  i5arbarossa,  the  Cor- 
sair who  had  become  Sultan's  admiral,  strategically  situated  so 
as  to  command  the  narrow  passage  between  itself  and  Sicily 
and  to  be  a  source  of  annoyance  to  southern  Italy  and  southern 
Spain.  He  captured  Tunis  in  iK^g  and  won  the  gratitude  of 
all  southern  Europe;  although  Barbarossa,  who  shifted  his 
port  to  Algiers,  was  soon  as  active  as  ever.  In  the  meantime 
Qement  VII  died.  In  his  pursuit  of  Medicean  and  papal  politi- 
cal interests  he  had  greatly  hampered  the  movements  of  Charles, 
and  thus  he  had  done  more  than  any  other  man  to  secure  the 
success  of  the  religious  revolution.  His  successor  was  Paul  III 
(1534-49),  who  seemed  much  more  favorably  inclined  to  the 
summoning  of  a  general  council.  In  1535  the  house  of  Sforza 
became  extinct  and  the  question  as  to  who  should  control  Milan 
once  more  became  acute.  Francis  had  long  been  intriguing 
with  Protestant  and  Turk  to  work  disaster  to  his  rival.  He 
immediately  turned  his  attention  to  the  vacant  duchy.  Between 
Milan  and  France  there  lay  Savoy.  Conjuring  up  a  flimsy  pre- 
text Francis  invaded  the  intervening  kingdom.  The  act  precipi- 
tated another  war  with  Charles.  But  the  latter,  harassed  by  the 
Moslems  and  filled  with  apprehension  by  the  growing  power  of 
the  Lutherans,  was  anxious  for  peace  and  Francis  was  not  un- 
willing to  cease  the  struggle  provided  he  could  secure  good 
terms.  By  the  truce  of  Nice,  1538,  which  was  to  last  for  ten 
years,  each  side  retained  the  conquests  it  had  made.  Those  of 
France  included  the  greater  part  of  Savoy. 

In  January,  1541,  Charlesi  after  an  absence  of  almost  nine 
years,  once  mor<>  pntp^^H  Gftrmnny  In  this  period  a  change 
had  taken  place  almost  as  great  as  that  which  transpired  during 
his  first  absence  of  nine  years  between  the  diets  of  Worms  and 
Augsburg.  Protestantism  had  made  marked  progress.  In  1534 
Duke  Ulrich  of  Wiirttemberg  had  been  restored  to  his  duchy  from 
which  fifteen  years  previously  he  had  been  driven  by  the  Swabian 


PROTESTANTISM  AND  THE  BALANCE  OF  POWER   265 


league  and  which  in  the  meantime  had  been  held  by  the  em- 
peror's brother,  Ferdinand  of  Austria,  This  had  been  accom- 
plished by  Philip  of  Hesse  who  defeated  the  Austrian  forces.  ****"*• 
No  sooner  had  Ulrich  been  reinstated  than  he  established 
Protestantism  in  the  duchy.  In  1539  the  elector  Joachim  II  of 
Brandenburg  seceded  from  Catholicism  and  established  a  state 
church  of  his  own  much  like  the  Church  of  England.  In  the 
same  year  Henry,  who  had  already  gone  over  to  Lutheranism, 
succeeded  his  brother  George  as  diike  of  Albertine  Saxony ;  and 
he  in  1541  was  followed  by  his  son  Maurice.  Margrave  John 
of  Brandenburg-Ansbach,  who  ruled  in  Cottbus  and  Peitz,  had 
also  become  a  Lutheran.  Many  other  princes  of  lesser  impor- 
tance had  also  embraced  the  spreading  heresy;  and  so,  too,  had 
many  of  the  towns.  So  strong  was  the  movement  away  from 
the  Mother  Church  that  the  three  ecclesiastical  electors  of 
Mainz,  Cologne,  and  Trier  meditated  the  abandonment  of 
Catholicism  and  the  changing  of  their  territories  into  secular 
principalities  of  which  they  were  to  be  the  founders  of  the  rul- 
ing houses.  Protestantism,^  evidently,  was  ng^  longer  on  the  de- 
fensiy^  Once  more  Charles  tried  the  old  plan  of  effecHng'sT 
working  compromise  between  the  two  religious  parties  until  a 
general  council  should  settle  to  the  satisfaction  of  all  the  points 
that  remained  in  dispute.  It  was  in  pursuance  of  this  policy 
that  a  religious  conference  was  held  at  Ratisbon.  Never  did 
Catholicism  and  Protestantism  so  closely  feappfoach  each  other 
as  they  did  at  this  meeting,  yet  like  all  the  previous  similar  at- 
tempts the  colloquy  ^^^jl^H  tn  t^i^P^  it«^  purcp*^^  Two  insur- 
motmtable  obstacles  prevented  its  success,  the  fundamental 
iHpompatibilitv  of  the  subjective  character  of  the  Lutheran 
heresy  with  the  external  authority  of  Catholicism  and  the  politi-_ 
cal  selfishness  of  the  Genran  r""^^Sj  Protestant  and  Catholic 
atftceTwho  feared  that  a  settlement  of  the  religious  trouble  would 
lead  to  a  dangerous  accession  of  power  to  the  Emperor.  So 
the  conference  proved  of  no  avail  except  as  it  revealed  the  fact 
that  the  heretics  would  not  abide  by  the  decision  of  any  such 
meeting,  nor,  indeed,  by  the  decision  of  a  general  council  when- 
ever one  should  be  called ;  and  that,  therefore,  if  religious  unity 
was  ever  to  be  regained  force  would  have  to  be  employed.  This 
was  recognized  even  by  Contarini,  the  most  conciliatory  of  the 
Catholics;  and  by  Melanchthon,  the  most  moderate  of  the 
Protestants.  Defeated  in  his  policy  of  reconciliation  Charles 
fell  back  upon  his  expedient  of  suspension,  of  postponing  final 

action  and  making  in  the  meantime  a  temporary  arrangemenU^ 

The  time  seemed  opportune  to  Francis  for  a  renewal  of  the 


266 


THE  PROTESTANT  REVOLUTION 


OHAP. 


1648-46 


Final 
Btmggto 
of  OluurlM 
and 
FntncU 


OliarlM 

X>«tar- 

mlneito 

Oniah 

PrototUnt* 

Ism  and 

Tarrlto- 

rtaliim 


Struggle  with  his  rival.  Charles  had  recently  suffered  two  dis- 
asters at  the  hands  of  the  Turks.  Solyman  had  inflicted  a  crush- 
ing defeat  upon  his  brother  Ferdinand  and  captured  Buda- 
Pesth ;  and  an  attack  upon  Algiers,  led  by  the  Emperor  in  person, 
had  been  turned  into  a  lamentable  failure  by  violent  storms. 
So,  taking  advantage  of  the  misfortunes  of  his  enemy,  Siancig^in 
Tcf/|g  hpgr*in  the  w;^f  ^fp*'"  This  time  it  was  France  that  wit- 
nessed the  shock  of  battle  and  not  Italy.  Peace  was  signed  in 
1544  at  Crespy;  and  then  Charles,  freer  than  ever  before,  and 
convinced  at  last  of  the  failure  of  conciliation,  turned  to  the 
coercion  of  the  Protestants. 

Not  only  was  heresy  to  be  crushed  in  Germany,  but  also  the 
aggressive  territorialism  with  which  it  had  allied  itself.  The 
recent  conversion  of  the  Elector  Palatine  and  the  archbishop  of 

Cologne  had  given  to  the  Prnt<>gt^ntQ  a  majority  i"  ^hp  tAprfnruX 

college.  It  was  now  quite  possible  that  the  next  Emperor  would 
be  both  anti-Catholic  and  anti-Hapsburg.  Clearly  the  situation 
wag  nriA  ^f  pfpi  »r.  fV»^  ^'^thfilr  ^'^'^  ^mT^vn^  cause  to  wmcl 


ipei 


Charles  had  devoted  his  life.  First  of  all  the  general  council, 
so  long  delayed,  must  be  summoned  to  meet  in  Germany.  The 
Mother  r^n**""^  ^I'^fT^f  wp^  ^fl  ^  Reformed.  That  was  an  in^ 
tegral  part  of  the  program!  Something  67  a  compromise  was 
to  be  offered  to  the  Protestants;  and  then,  if  this  was  re^used« 
war  should  begin.  Paul  III  bowed  to  the  inevitable  and  sum- 
moned the  ^niinci}^  to  meet  at  Trent  But  the  pope  had  out- 
witted the  Emperor.  Trent,  it  is  true,  was  situated  in  German 
territory,  but  it  was  in  reality  an  Italian  town.  Plainly  the 
council  would  be  a  pliant  tool  in  the  hands  of  the  pontiff.  This 
the  Protestants  were  not  slow  to  perceive.  They  declared  the 
council  to  be  neither  free,  nor  Christian,  nor  general;  and  until 
it  conformed  to  all  three  requirements  they  declined  to  attend. 
War  was  imminent.  Charles  busied  himself  with  efforts  to  con- 
solidate the  Catholic  party,  and  to  disinteg^te  the  Protestant 
league.  The  duke  of  Bavaria  was  the  most  important  of  the 
Catholic  princes  hostile  to  the  Hapsburg  power.  Concessions 
secured  his  benevolent  neutrality  and  a  gift  of  money  and  artil- 
lery. The  Schmalkaldian  leaders,  elector  John  Frederick  of 
Saxony,  and  Philip  of  Hesse,  had  long  been  at  variance  with 
each  other.  There  were  also  other  divisions  among  the 
Protestant  princes.  Harmonious  action  between  them  was  at 
least  dubious.  Several  of  them  were  won  over  and  others  were 
persuaded  to  remain  neutral.  Chief  of  all  these  successful  in- 
trigues was  the  winning  of  the  neutrality  of  Maurice  of  Al* 
bertine  Saxony,  who  was  greedy  for  the  title  and  the  terri- 


PROTESTANTISM  AND  THE  BALANCE  OF  POWER     267 

tory  of  electoral  Saxony.  The  division  of  Saxony  into  the  ^Jjy ' 
Ernestine  and  Albertine  lines  had  taken  place  in  1485 ;  and  the  -— i— 
lands  have  never  again  been  united.  1544-48 

On  February  18,  1546,  while  thejKacjclaud3  were  thus  darken- 
ing the  skies  of  Germany,  JLuthfiC^died ;  and  four  days  later 
his  body  was  buried  in  the  castle  church  at  Wittenberg  to  the  Lntter't 
door  of  which  almost  a  generation  before  he  had  nailed  his  ^^•••^ 
famous  theses.  He  had  lived  to  see  Lutheranism  the  accepted 
religion  of  a  large  part  of  Germany  and  to  see  it  legally  estab- 
lished in  Denmark,  Norway,  and  Sweden.  But  he  had  also  lived 
to  see  the  banning  of  those  doctrinal  disputes  between  his  fol- 
lowers that  were  to  be  quite  as  bitter  and  as  barren  as  any  of 
their  kind ;  and  to  realize,  in  part  at  least,  the  unfortunate  results 
of  the  dissociation  of  his  revolt  from  the  sympathy  of  the  masses 
and  its  abject  reliance  upon  the  support  of  the  princes.  . 

Charles  asserted  that  his  object  was  not  to  repress  heresy,  but 
only  to  pimijsh  political  insubordination.  The  Lutherans,  how- 
ever, insisted  that  their  religion  was  the  object  of  attack.  The  Tht 
truth  is  that  the  Schmalkaldic  war  was  both  a  religious  and  a  J^JJ*" 
political  war.  Protestantism  had  become  so  closely  interwoven  ww 
with  the  forces  of  decentralization  that  it  was  impossible  to 
separate  them,  and  war  against  both  had  become  inevitable. 
Decisive  action  on  the  part  of  the  league,  despite  the  defection 
of  Maurice  of  Albertine  Saxony,  would  have  insured  victory  to 
the  Lutherans ;  but  through  indifference  and  timidity  the  oppor- 
tunity was  thrown  away.  The  war  ended  without  much  fight- 
ing in  1547  with  the  imperial  victory  at  Muhlberg.  All  GeimanyT 
Willi  a  few  minor  exceptions,  seemed  to  lie  at  the  Emperor's  feet. 
When  the  diet  met  at  Augsburg  Charles  prepared  to  impose  upon 
the  country  a  political  and  religious  organization  that  should 
suit  his  purpose.  But  he  found  it  impossible  to  carry  out  his 
original  plans ;  and  so  in  1548  a  compromise  measure,  the  Augs- 
burg Interim,  was  adopted.  The  Interim,  "a  master-piece  of 
ambiguity,"  was  intended  as  a  temporary  expedient  to  unite 
Catholics  and  Protestants  until  a  final  settlement  should  be  at- 
tained ;  but  it  proved  a  dismal  failure. 

Many  things  now  contributed  to  the  tmdermining  of  the  Em- 
peror's popularity  and  power,  neither  of  which  had  ever  been 
very  pronounced  in  Germany.  The  intense  hostility  to  foreign  Tht 
dictation  aroused  by  the  presence  of  Spanish  troops  stationed  in  Jj^^ 
various  German  towns  was  increased  by  the  desire  of  Charles 
that  his  son  Philip  should  succeed  to  the  imperial  position. 
Maurice  of  Saxony,  the  "  Judas  "  who  had  betrayed  the  Protes- 
tant cause  and  who  had  been  rewarded  in  1547  for  so  doing  with 


1648-55 


268  THE  PROTESTANT  REVOLUTION 

^!^^-  his  cousin's  title  and  a  considerable  share  of  his  territory,  was 
exceedingly  unpopular  with  his  subjects.  The  Emperor  was  his 
chief  support,  and  the  prop  was  failing.  So  Maurice  rejoined 
the  cause  he  had  deserted  and  conducted  for  the  Protestant 
princes  a  conspiracy  with  Henry  H  of  France  against  Charles. 
War  broke  out  between  the  allies  and  the  Emperor  in  1552  which 
ended  in  the  same  year  with  the  Treaty  of  Passau  and  resulted 
in  1555  in  the  f^jari^  nf  Augsburpr  By  the  terms  of  the  Re- 
ligious Peace  the  ^^g^l  existenc^e  of*  Lutheranism  was  perma- 
nently pj^^ahh'sheH.  The  Lutheran  pnnces  were  granted  security 
in  their  faith.  In  their  lands  the  jurisdiction  of  Catholic  bishops 
was  to  cease;  and  in  their  lands,  also,  all  ecclesiastical  property 
(with  the  exception  of  that  directly  controlled  by  the  empire) 
that  had  been  secularized  previously  to  the  Treaty  of  Passau, 
was  to  remain  in  their  possession.  Each  secular  ruler  hence- 
forth was  free  to  choose  between  Catholicism  and  Lutheranism, 
and  all  his  subjects  were  to  be  bound  by  his  decision.  Cujus 
regio  ejus  religio.  Should  a  subject  find  himself  unable  to  ac- 
cept the  religion  of  his  ruler,  it  was  his  privilege  to  go  else- 
where. Should  a  Catholic  prelate'  abandon  his  laith,  iiis  terri- 
tory and  title  were  to  be  forfeited.  It  is  true  that  this  settle- 
ment at  Augsburg  gave  Germany  internal  peace  that  lasted  with 
scarcely  a  perceptible  break  for  two  generations  and  so  per- 
mitted a  greater  degree  of  prosperity  than  it  had  enjoyed  for 
some  time;  but  nevertheless,  it  contained  the  germs  of  discord. 
The  "  ecclesiastical  reservation "  was  certain  to  cause  further 
difficulties.  Then  only  two  creeds  were  recognized,  Catholicism 
and  Lutheranism.  In  the  negotiations  the  Lutherans  had  con- 
sidered only  themselves.  Yet  the  followers  of  Zwingli  were 
numerous  in  southern  Germany;  and  those  of  Calvin  were  be- 
ginning to  increase  in  the  south-western  provinces.  And  from 
the  mass  of  the  people  even  this  limited  choice  between  two 
creeds  was  practically  withheld.  Their  religion  was  determined 
for  them  by  the  prince  in  whose  jurisdiction  they  happened  to 
reside.  The  alternative  of  exile,  in  most  cases,  was  but  a  mock- 
ery. Peace,  indeed,  the  agreement  brought ;  but  temporary  peace 
only.    The  Thirty  Years'  War  lay  in  the  future. 


i 

m 

-  r 


CHAPTER  XV 

THE  SWISS   REVOLT  FROM    ROME 

1.  The  Swiss  in  the  Second  Decade  of  the  Sixteenth  Century, 

2.  Ulrich  Zwingli. 

3.  Zurich. 

4.  Bern,  Basel,  Glarus,  St.  Gall,  Schaffhausen,  and  Graubunden. 

5.  Zwingli's  Social  and  Religious  Views. 

SWITZERLAND,  as  we  have  seen,  had  its  origin  in   1291     ^^^^v^' 
when  Uri,  Schwyz,  and  Unterwalden,  three  peasant  commu-      

nities  grouped  about  |tlf  Ip^*^  ^^  ^  ii^#>mA  fOfm^^  ^^^ifr^lYfff  Vl^f}  I8«i-i5i8 
a  inose  cniifffjp^^^*^"  '^  was  the  second  of  these  communities 
that  later  on  was  to  give  its  name  to  the  Confederation.  Schwyz  ^^  ,^|^ 
was  the  most  determined  of  all  the  little  forest  States  in  its  oppo-  ggo***- 
sition  to  the  German  nobles.  To  this  nuy^^^s  nf  the  ^^jss  na^io^ 
other  cantons  were  added  from  tim*^  \^  fimp^  Luzerne  in  1332, 
^uricli  m  1351,  6larus  in  1352,  Zug  in  1352,  and  Bern  in  1353. 
These  five  additional  cantons  were  all  united  to  the  three  original 
cantons ;  but  they  were  not  then  necessarily  connected  with  each 
other.  Their  relations  with  each  other  were  exceedingly  varied 
and  can  be  explained  only  by  the  circumstances  of  their  admis- 
sions into  the  Confederation.  Then  gradually  an  outer  circle  of 
five  more  cantons  was  formed.  Freiburg  was  admitted  in  1481, 
Solothum  in  1481,  Basel  in  1501,  Schaffhausen  in  1501,  and 
Appenzell  in  15 13.  These  five  newcomers  were  all  allied  with 
the  eight  previous  cantons.  But  they  were  admitted  to  the  Con- 
federation upon  less  favorable  conditions.  No  more  cantons 
were  admitted  until  the  end  of  the  eighteenth  century  when  the 
old  Confederation  was  replaced  by  the  Helvetic  Republic. 

Dependent  upon  the  Confederation  were  some  lands,  the 
**  fflpmf^n  hniV^'^^*^/'  ]^^*  ha^^  been  talc^n  hy  force,  whose  gov- 
ernment by  various  combmations  of  the  thirteen  cantons  was 

fed^satian.    And  near  by  were  other  leagues,  such  as  the  various  Tht  Ooa- 
]^|^liptian  leagues  and  that  of  SL-GaJl,  with  whom  the  Swiss  JSJuST*" 
union  maintained  relations.    Each  of  the  thirteen  cantons  gov- 
erned its  own  internal  affairs  as  it  deemed  best.    They  formed 
little  more  than  an  agglomeration  of  independent  communities 

269 


270  THE  PROTESTANT  REVOLUTION 


^^^'     held  together  principallY  bv  the  enmity  of  Austria.    These  fed- 

erated  States  differed  greatly  from  each  other  in  many  respects. 

1291-1513  They  were  not,  as  we  have  seen,  all  on  the  same  footing  as 
members  of  the  league,  for  they  had  been  admitted  at  different 
times  upon  different  conditions.  They  differed  from  each  other 
in  their  separate  governments.  They  were  *nn^**  "P  ^^  /^iv^rcA 
social  elements.  Some  of  them,  such  as  the  forest  cantons  of 
dri,  iichwyz,  and  Unterwalden,  were  rural  communities  with 
primitive  democratic  governments;  while  others,  such  as  Bern, 
Zurich,  and  Basel,  were  aristocratic  municipal  commtmities  with 
oligarchic  governments.  The  one  federal  governmental  institu- 
tion was  the  diet,  which  met  alternately  at  st&tM  IliCWVaJirinTIie 
larger  towns.  It  was  made  up  of  two  del^;ates  frcHn  each  can^ 
ton  and  one  from  each  of  three  associated  districts,  the  abbey  of 
St.  Gall,  the  town  of  St.  Gall,  and  the  town  of  Bienne.  Its  mem- 
bers were  strictly  limited  by  the  instructions  of  the  districts  they 
represented,  and  their  decisions  were  not  binding  upon  the 
minority  except  in  matters  relating  to  the  subject  lands  that  were 
held  in  common.  The  administration  of  the  federal  laws  de* 
volved  upon  the  government  of  each  canton,  federal  ^nac^'- 
ments,  however,  were  confined  chi^y  to  foreign  f\fP^^^  TVi<> 
protection  of  individual  life  and  property  was  in  the  sole  charge 
of  each  sovereign  canton.  Through  the  serviigg  nf  their  ^gffis- 
nary  troop?^  p  Ttaly^  t|^^  ^^jlfift  ^^^  KArnn^^  particularlv  wfll 
acquamted  with  the  political  character  r^j  fhe  Papapy-^its  ab- 
sorption in  secular  interests  and  ambitions;  and  for  more  than 
a  hundred  years  they  had  been  gradually  restricting  the  area 
of  ecclesiastical  jurisdiction,  so  that  by  the  end  of  the  second 
decade  of  the  sixteenth  century  the  clergy  were  very  largely 
subject  to  the  secular  courts.  Under  these  conditions,  then,  we 
shall  expect  to  find  the  Confederation  as  a  whole  conscious  of 
the  need  of  ecclesiastical  reform  and  each  canton  determining  for 
itself  jJie  form  of  religion  that  shall  prevail  within  its  territory, 
^he  history  of  the  Swiss  revolt  from  Rome  centers  about  the 
name  of  Ulrich  Zwingli  (1484-1531)  whose  activity  in  the 
northern  and  German-speaking  cantons  of  the  Alpine  federa- 
tion was  carried  on  simultaneously  with  that  of  Luther  in  Sax- 
tnrieh  ony.  But  though  the  work  of  these  two  reformers  was  parallel 
Swingu  ij^  ^jjj^g  j^  ^^g  entirely  different  in  character.  One  was  a  friar, 
the  other  a  humanist;  one  looked  to  the  past,  the  other  to  the 
future;  one  was  emotional,  the  other  intellectual;  one  was  a 
conservative,  the  other  a  radical.  Zwingli  was  bom  in  the  little 
village  of  Wildhaus  in  the  territory  of  the  abbey  of  St.  Gall. 
For  some  time  he  went  to  school  at  Basel;  and  then,  when  he 


THE  SWISS  REVOLT  FROM  ROME 


271 


1484-168S 


TImBo- 


was  fourteen  years  of  age,  he  was  sent  to  Bern  where  he  studifid     o^^^- 
under  Heinrich  Wolflin.  a  poet  who  had  traveled  in  Italy  and 

;rpffp.     There  he  h^^me  enamored  nf  Qv^^  ^"^  T^tit^  IJtyfil- 

tuce^and  b^[an  his  journey  along  the  road  of  humanism  that  led 
to  heresy.  Then  for  two  years  he  stiidi^(|  ^\  ^^e  University  of 
Vieana.^  where  perhaps  he  came  under  the  influence  of  Conrad 
Celtes.  After  that  he  returned  to  Basel,  where  he  stpepeH  Viin;i. 
sdf  in  the  Neo-Platonism  of  Pico  della  Mirandola  and  where 
fie  came  under  the  influence  of  Erasmus.  Then  in  1506  he  be- 
came the  parish  priest  of  Glarus,  where  every  day  he  found  time 
to  dip  still  further  into  the  writings  of  Erasmus,  whose  personal 
acquaintance^  he  haH  tna^^^  Ten  years  later  he  went  to  occupy 
a  similar  position  at  Einsiedeln,  the  most  famous  shrine  in 

southern  Germany,  only  twenty  miles  from  Zurich.  ^ 

At  the  close  of  the  year  l$i&  Zwingli,  who  had  become  famous 
as  a  preacher,  was  elected  to  the  office  of  people's  priest  or 
vicar  in  the  f}|-eat  fyfin.gter  a^  /^^^^  one  of  the  most  important 
of  the  Swiss  towns.  His  sermons  showed  the  influence  of  his 
humanistic  training  and  sympathy.  They  included  suggestions-  ^^j^^^^ 
for  both  ^f pi^'^^'^'g^^^^i  71*^^  r^lit^7a1  rf  fprm  •  for  in  his  mind  State  ivttoBU 
and  Qiurch  were  intimately  related  to  each  other.  They  pro-  '•'^•^ 
tested  with  ardent  patriotism  ;^gainsLthe  ruinous  and  demoralizing 
practice  of  mercenary  military  service :  they  opposed  ynnna.<;tiri<;m 
and  fsretirii^p,  ^he  l^ehVf  |p  purgatorv  and  the  adoration  of 
SJQt^;  and  they  declared  t^tb^^  t^  V  m#>r<»ly  mlnntar^r  ofFrrB 
SB.  Naturally  they  gave  rise  to  controversies.  At  last  a  series 
)f  public  disputations  b^fnr^  the  great  councJL  took  place, 
-urich  had  long  maintained  a  closer  supervision  of  the  clergy 
han  other  municipalities,  and  so  it  was  but  natural  that  the 
niblic  discussion  of  ecclesiastical  matters  should  be  held  before 
i  civil  body.  For  the  purpose  of  the  first  debate  Zwingli  drew 
ip  sjYty-g^Yfin  ^^*iffT  that  contained  the  essence  of  his  doctrinal 
finovations.  The  Church,  he  said,  is  made  up  of  all  Christians, 
t  is  a  democratic  institution ;  and  its  external  direction,  as  far  as 
ny  is  necessary,  rests  with  the  secular  authority  and  not  with 
opes  and  bishops.  The  Bible  is  the  only  rule  of  faith,  and 
5  interpretation  does  not  rest  exclusively  with  the  Catholic 
Jiurch.  Qerical  celibacy,  the  mass,  adoration  of  saints,  the 
dief  in  purgatory,  and  Lenten  observances  should  all  be  abol- 
»hed.  The  first  disputation  was  held  in  January,  1523,  before 
n  audience  of  about  six  hundred  people,  and  resulted  in  mak- 
^  it  evident  that  the  reformer  and  the  town  had  irrevocably 
cparted  from  the  fold  of  the  ancient  Church.  Thus  encour- 
ged  Zwingli  proceeded  in  his  course.    A  second  disputation 


272 


THE  PROTESTANT  REVOLUTION 


1628-26 


Imnat 
Sflrloli 


Tlie 

ZwincUaa 

Worililp 


was  held  in  October  of  the  same  year  in  which  he  argued 
against  the  use  of  images  in  churches  and  attended  that  the 
mass  is  merely  a  representation  of  the  sacrifice  on  the  Cross  and 
not  a  repetition  of  it.  A  private  disputation  was  held  in  Janu- 
ary, 1524,  with  which  the  Catholic  party  ended  its  formal  oppo- 
sition to  the  innovations  in  creed  and  worship.  _^t  fbl*  rrmrli^^ 
sion  of  these  discussions  the  civic  authorities  definiteli 
the  cause  of  religious  revolutioUp  Images  were  removed  from 
the  churches  in  every  case  where  a  majority  decided  against  them, 
monasteries  were  suppressed,  the  mass  was  abolished,  and  die 
last  sacrament  was  no  longer  administered.  In  place  of  the 
episcopal  authority  an  ecclesiastical  organization  was  effected 
and  ecclesiastical  courts  were  established  to  take  care  of  con- 
duct and  cases  relating  to  marriage.  At  the  hfiad^oLsU-fiUiL^UBd 
^clesiastical  government  stood  Zwingli,  the  guiding  spirit  of 
^  revolt.  ' 

Very  different  from  that  accorded  to  Luther  was  the  treatment 
of  Zwingli  by  the  Papacy.  The  Saxon  rebel  was  r^;arded  as  an 
upstart  friar  who  was  to  be  silenced  in  a  summary  manner. 
The  Swiss  priest  was  the  leading  citizen  of  Ztirich,  from  which 
the  Papacy  hoped  to  secure  further  military  aid  in  carrying  out 
its  military  projects,  and  he  was  therefore  to  be  won  over  by 
the  most  conciliatory  measures.    It  was  not  the  Papacy  that 

jgy#>     ;f.wingrli     trnnhle    at     fi^y^      It     ya^     \hi^    Bftm?'^^      At 

Ziirich,  as  at  Wittenberg,  there  were  men  more  radical  than  the 
leader  of  revolt.  Among  the  radicals  were  Conrad  Grebd  and 
Felix  Manz,  sons  of  influential  citizens.  Later  on  they  were 
joined  by  Carlstadt,  Hubmaier  and  other  German  radicals,  who 
came  to  Zurich  or  its  neighborhood.  They  separated  them- 
selves from  the  Zwinglians  and  effected  an  organization  of  their 
own.  They  opposed  infant  baptism  and  rejected  all  authority, 
secular  and  ecclesiastical.  Rigorous  measures  W^F?  t?^ffr  ^^ 
onpprpgg  thP*"  Manz  was  'drowned  in  Lake  Ziirich  and  other 
leaders  were  banished.  EoiLaJdmf »  despite  all  the  efforts  of  the 
magistrates  to  stamp  it  out,  radicalism  continueH  tft  flnilri*^i  but 
eventually  that  fnqn  nf  it  knawn  m  A"f baptism  h#>ranii>  f>lmg<tt 
extinct  in  Switzerland. 

Zwingli  went  much  further  than  Luther  in  changing  the  form 
of  worship.  The  organs  were  removed  from  the  churches  and 
the  hymns  were  sung  without  instrumental  accompaniment;  and 
then  even  vocal  music  was  abandoned.  At  the  end  of  the  cen- 
tury, however,  music  was  restored  to  the  Zwinglian  churches. 
The  mass,  as  we  have  seen,  was  not  merely  modified  but  abol- 
ished.    The  sermon  was  made  the  center  of  the  religious  service. 


THE  SWISS  REVOLT  FROM  ROME 


273 


f4 


In  1525  a  theological  seminary  was  established  in  which  the 
Hebrew  and  Greek  biblical  texts  were  sti^^^ed  and  commentaries 

Not  only  the  regular  students  attended  the 
sdKX)l,  but  also  the  city  clergy;  and  townspeople  came  to  hear 
the  lectures  in  the  vernacular. 

Religious  change  involved  the  Swiss  Confederacy  in  new  dif- 
ficulties. The  forest  cantons  were  opposed  to  the  innovations 
adq)tcd  by  the  towns.  In  order  to  solve  the  problem  the  digt 
arran^red  ^  Hispti|a^^*(^n  Thp  public  debate  was  held  in  1526  at 
Badgi.  twelve  miles  from  Zurich.  Zwingli  realized  that  the 
conations  would  be  the  reverse  of  those  under  which  the  dis- 
putations at  Zurich  had  been  held,  that  the  majority  of  the  audi- 
ence would  be  Catholics.  He  was  not  present  at  the  debate. 
The  Catholics  were  represented  by  John  Eck,  the  most  dis- 
tu^guished  of  their  German  theologians.  The  Zwinglians  had 
for  their  chief  champion  John  CEcolampadius ;  but  Zwingli  him- 
self exerted  a  great  influence  by  means  of  letters  and  messen- 
gers. By  a  vote  of  eighty-two  to  twenty  it  was  decided  that 
Eck  had  established  his  theses.    The  ^fFyt  nf  fV^p  ^'gprtatjii^" 

lyas  ^^  stipfngthfin  tbr  Tathnlir  pftf^Y 

The  religious  revolt,  as  we  shall  see,  broke  out  in  other  can- 
tons. The  rn|^f<>H<>]pffry  bpf;aTne  divided  into  two  hostile  groups 
and  preparations  were  made  for  war.  At  the  close  of  1527 
Ztirich  entered  into  a  league  with  Constance,  which,  because  its 
tenns  were  not  accepted,  had  declined  to  become  a  member  of 
the  Confederacy,  for  mutual  help.  In  the  middle  of  the  follow- 
ing year  Bern  was  included  in  the  compact ;  and  then  other  cities 
and  cantons  were  admitted,  the  town  of  St.  Gall,  Bienne,  Mtil- 
hausen,  Basel,  Schaffhausen,  and  Strasburg.  This  Protestant 
kapic  was  answered  by  a  Catholic  union.  In  1528  the  five  forest 
cantons,  Uri,  Schwyz,  Unterwaiden,  Luzem,  and  Zug,  banded 
themselves  together  to  preserve  the  ancient  faith  and  to  effect 
an  internal  reformation  of  the  ancient  Church.  In  the  follow- 
ing year  they  entered  into  an  aUiance  with  Ferdinand  o 
and  with  the  district  which  at  the  end  of  the  eighteenth  century 
became  the  canton  Valais.  The  thrnlrgi^iil  di^frrof""'  between 
the  cantons  entered  into  the  problem,  already  a  difficult  one,  of 
the  government  of  the  subject  lands,  and  thus  the  tension  be- 
tween  ihem  was  gfcaily  mcreased.  At  last,  on  June  8,  1529, 
Zurich,  the  leader  of  the  Protestant  league,  declared  war.  But 
the  mass  of  men  in  hnth  anyiif^s  HH  "^^  ""f^  ^9^  ^nmf-  pn/^^  as  it 
was  the  custom  in  the  cantons  to  allow  the  trooos  to  decid^^ 
whether  there  shpulH  he  war^  it  was  not  difficult  to  negotiate  p^t\f;ft 
uniominately  the  peace,  signed  at  Capp^i  ^T  T""^  ?>l   1529,  was 


OHAP. 


10S5-8S 


TlMDto- 
pvtatloa 


TbeFlnl 

Ucloof 
War 


274 


THE  PROTESTANT  REVOLUTION 


0HA7. 


1629 


VhaOoii* 

ftraiM 

atlCar- 

targ 


The  Sec- 
ond SwlM 
Bellglonf 
War  and 
After 


lacking  in  precision  of  statement  and  so  it  contained  the  germs  of 
future  dispute.    It  was  merely  a  truce. 

The  ablest  political  leader  of  the  German-speaking  heretk:s 
was  the  Landgrave  Philip  of  Hesse.    He  was  exceedingly  de- 
sirous of  eliminating  the  differences  in  creed  that  stood  in  the 
way  of  their  united  political  action.    Dangers  to  the  dissentients 
were  thickening.    He  saw  only  disaster  in  their  continued  sepant^ 
tion  and  enmity;  and  in  their  differences  he  recognized  nothing 
that  was  fundamental  and  irreconcilable.    In  order  to  effect  ^ 
union  he  was  determined  to  bring  about  a  conference  between  th^ 
chief    disputants   *' though    it    should    cost    him   six   thousand 
gulden."    So  on  September  30,  1529,  he  gathered  together  in  his 
castle  at  Marburg  the  leading  theologians  of  the  Lutheran  and 
Zwinglian    communions.    Luther    went    with    reluctance    and 
Zwingli   with   alacrity.    Melanchthon   and   (Ecolampadius   and 
many  other  of  the  principal  supporters  of  the  two  groups  were 
there.    But  the  differences  proved  deeper  than  Philip  had  be- 
lieved.   Zwingli  was  the  most  radical  of  all  the  leading  Prot- 
estants, while  Luther  was  the  most  conservative.    C^l^gHli^y 
lade  by  both  sides^  especially  by  the  Zwinglians,  but  they 
"  fli*!  ro  wiiPffj^r  fh#>  true  body  and  blood  of  Christy 

the  mass  to  be  without  any  sacramental  efficacy  whatsoever  and 
who  regarded  the  practice  of  communion  as  being  merely  a 
commemorative  ceremony  possessing  value  solely  because  its 
performance  necessitates  the  bringing  together  of  a  group  of  wor- 
shipers and  thus  ensures  a  social  act,  declined  to  accept  the 
dogma  of  consubstantiation.  This  Luther  held  to  be  sufficient 
to  prevent  the  recognition  of  the  Zwinglians  as  members  with 
the  Lutherans  of  the  Christian  Church.  So  the  r^irpnia  of  thn 
Landgrave  was  not  accomplished.  His  plan  for  the  formation  of 
a  league  that  should  mclude  all  the  Protestant  forces  was  de- 
feated. 

There  were  many  things  that  tended  to  bring  about  a  second 
outbreak  of  war  in  Switzerland.  More  than  ever  before  Swiss 
and  German  politics  had  become  entangled.  And  Zwinglianism 
had  become  more  and  more  closely  connected  with  politics.  It 
had  therefore  come  to  be  regarded  by  Ferdinand  of  Austria  as 
being  more  dangerous  to  the  empire  than  Lutheranism.  He  was 
determined  to  take  measures  against  it.  And  internal  troubles 
still  disturbed  the  Confederation.  The  Catholic  far»^«g  «^»fn 
nursed  thr^  ^\t^^onnfi>f^  The  conditions  of  the  Peace  of  Cappel 
were  not  at  all  to  their  liking.  On  tlie  other  hand  Zurich  was 
determined  to  enforce  free  preaching  in  all  the  cantons.    Enmity 


THE  SWISS  REVOLT  FROM  ROME 


275 


increased  until  the  Protestant  cantons  stopped  the  sale  of  grain, 
wine,  salt,  iron,  and  steel  to  the  Catholics  in  their  mountain 
homes.  The  result  was  inevitable.  The  desperate  forest  can- 
tons  declared  war.  In  the  battle  that  was  fought  on  October  11, 
IS3^  at  Cappel,  ten  miles  south  of  Zurich,  Zwingli  was  killed. 
On  November  23  a  second  Peace  was  si^ed  at  Cappel  T^  prn- 
that  in  ^^rh  r^n^Qn  fh**  (p'^^'^m^^t  v(^^  to  be  determined 
maiority  aiyd  that  ^^^^  r?"t(?"  ^^?  to  he  lefl 


lSM-75 


age  itsown  rellgiou^s  afFajrs  The  common  lands  that  had  ac- 
c^ied  the  new  iaShwere  to  be  allowed  to  retain  it,  and  those 
who  desired  to  keep  or  to  return  to  the  old  faith  were  to  be  al- 
lowed to  do  so.  All  loagUfiswith  powers  outside  the  Confederacy 
were  fQrj^^dtn.  This  agreement  iltieuked  llie  pr6gress  ot  the 
Swiss  revolt  from  Rome;  and  it  prepared  the  way  for  the  re- 
action towards  Catholicism  that  set  in  soon  afterwards.  The 
new  religion,  shorn  of  its  political  character,  was  directed  by 

Henry  Bullinger  (1504-75)  the  successor  of  Zwingli  at  Zurich. 

In  the  meantime  religious  revolt  had  occurred  in  other  places. 
In  Bern,  politically  the  most  important  city  in  the  Confederacy, 
a  humanistic  school  had  been  opened  by  John  von  Stein,  in  Tb«B» 
which  one  of  the  teachers  was  Heinrich  Wolflin,  a  scholar  under  ^^^^ 
whom  Zwingli  studied.  It  was  the  first  school  to  adopt  in  a 
large  measure  the  educational  ideals  of  the  Renaissance  and  it 
did  not  a  little  to  prepare  the  way  for  heresy.  In  15 18  Sebastian 
Meyer,  a  Franciscan  friar  from  Alsace,  began  to  preach  against 
the  ecclesiastical  abuses ;  and  three  years  later  Berthold  Haller,  a 
companion  of  Melanchthon  in  their  student  days,  who  was  also 
bent  upon  reform  and  whose  eloquence  had  made  him  very  in- 
fluential, was  elected  people's  priest  in  the  cathedral.  Both  of 
these  priests  were  encouraged  and  assisted  by  Nicholas  Manuel, 
a  painter,  dramatist,  and  statesman,  who  possessed  great  political 
power  in  the  city.  Early  in  1527  the  number  of  the  reformers 
had  so  increased  as  to  give  them  a  majority  in  each  of  the  two 
governmental  councils.  Then,  before  many  months  had  gone  by, 
the  civic  authorities  decided  to  hold  a  disputation.  Haller,  with 
the  assistance  of  Zwingli,  drew  up  the  following  ten  theses: 
(i)  The  sole  foundation  of  the  church  is  the  Bible:  (2)  the 
only  ^/<<*^g  o/>/^^fM^j^«^|jcal  laws  are  those  in  consonance  with  the 

BjU£;.(3)   f}J]\y  fhrnngrVi   Oin'Qf  is  it  possiblp  to  win  salvatioi^! 

(4)  it  ar"^t  ^  pr^^H  by  \lie  Rjble  that  the  miracle  of  tran- 
substantiqti*^"  ^^k^li  yf^C* '  ^^^  the  mass  is  contrary  to  the  Bibles 
(TS)  only  Christ  should  be  invoked  in  prayer;  (7)  because  there 
is  nn  mention  of   Hurpratorv  in  the   KihJe.  prayerg  for  the  dead 

are  in  vainj.  (8)  the  ii§^  qj  sarr^^^  |;>irfnres  should  be  ^'Tfon- 


2^^  THE  PROTESTANT  REVOLUTION 


tir<^;  (9)  marriage  is  not  f orfaiddpi  by  th^  ? j^>^e  to  any  class 

of  men,  but  unchastit^  is  forbidden  to  all:  and  (10)  iiwffiagt-tty 

I6is>6ft    Qjj  ^jj^  pj^P^  of  the  cLgfgy  is  mgr^  pipQvocative  of  gf>a«da1  ^||gj 

among  the  lait¥>  These  propositions  embody  the  essential  doc- 
trines  oi  the  bwiss  revolt;  and  it  was  the  fourth  assertion  that 
caused  the  greatest  discussion.  The  dj^op^fatinn  ri*gii1»<*H  in  the 
decision  of  the  government  to^  abandon  Catholicism  for  Zi 
lianism.  The  ten  theses  were  enacted  mto  law!  Sermons  were 
substituted  in  place  of  the  mass ;  images  were  removed  from  the 


foltof 


churches;  the  cathedral  organ  was  destroyed;  and  monasteries 
were  secularized.  In  1532  a  synod  of  the  canton  adopted  an 
ecclesiastical  constitution  (a  church  polity  and  discipline)  and 
provided  for  the  holding  of  a  Synod  each  year.  Thus  Bern  in 
the  west  and  Zurich  in  the  east,  the  two  cities  that  dominated  the 
plain  outside  the  mountains,  were  committed  to  the  cause  of  re- 
ligious change. 

Basel,  the  wealthiest  city  in  the  Confederation^  was  an  im- 
portant center  of  German  humanism.  Its  position  at  the  head 
AaB^  of  the  medieval  navigation  of  the  Rhine,  where  the  transparent 
green  waters  of  the  great  river  bend  from  the  west  to  the  north, 
and  its  situation  on  the  highway  from  Burgundy  to  Constance, 
made  inevitable  its  commercial  prosperity.  It  was  the  seat  of  a 
young  but  famous  university ;  and  even  before  Erasmus  settled 
there  in  1521  and  became  Froben's  general  editor  and  literary 
adviser  it  could  boast  of  the  most  famous  printing  press  in  Eu- 
rope. It  was  at  about  the  same  time  that  Erasmus  made  his 
home  there  that  \^\v-  C^f^2JXi^^dAM^  ( i482-i.s.'^i )  returned  to 
the  city.  He  was  a  man  of  wide  sympathies,  and  second  only 
to  Zwingli  in  importance  among  the  Swiss  reformers.  He  had 
studied  Greek  and  Hebrew,  and  had  made  the  acquaintance  of 
Reuchlin,  Melanchthon,  and  Erasmus.  He  had  come  back  to 
Basel  as  a  lecturer  on  the  Bible  in  the  University.  His  lectures 
and  sermons  excited  so  much  comment  among  the  townspeople 
that  the  bishop  ordered  their  cessation.  Then  a  series  of  disputa- 
tions were  held.  The  results  were  encouraging  to  the  reformers. 
In  1525  (Ecolampadius  was  appointed  by  the  city  council  as  the 
ptih|j^  pr^cher^  in  St.  Martin's  church  and  enysQ^sffxdJux.JQ^e 
such  ^p[^nv;^t]|ftnQ  as  \y^rp  j^igtifipH  by  the,  "yfiptures^  Three 
years  later,  in  the  midst  of  tumult  that  caused  Erasmus, 
Clareanus,  and  other  humanists,  and  most  of  the  teachers  in  the 
University  to  forsake  the  city,  the  ma§s-jwa^..al22lishfid  and  the 
images  were  removed  from  the  chtjrr%ff-  Thus  (Ecolampadius's 
five  years'  struggle  ended  with  success.  The  few  years  that  re- 
mained to  him  were  spent  quietly  in  developing  the  change  he 


THE  SWISS  REVOLT  FROM  ROME  2^^ 


16ie-78 


had  inaugurated.    From  his  death,  in  1531,  his  work  was  carried     ^5^' 
on  by  Oswald  Myconius  (1488-1552),  who  like  his  predecessor 
was  both  a  pastor  and  a  professor  in  Basel. 

Religious  reformation  in  the  thoroughly  Alpine  canton  of 
Glarus,  the  scene  of  Zwingli's  first  labors  as  a  priest,  centers 
about  the  names  of  the  Tschudis  and  Glareanus.  The  influential 
family  of  Tschudi  traced  its  ancestry  back  to  the  days  of  Char- 
lemagne, though,  it  is  scarcely  necessary  to  say,  it  never  proved 
it.  Three  of  its  members  were  connected  with  the  Swiss  revolt  JJJJJJJ**" 
from  Rome.  -Sgidius  TgchudL  (1505-72)  is  the  most  famous 
of  all  of  them.  In  his  history  of  Switzerland,  a  work  that  won 
high  praise  from  Goethe,  he  embodied  the  romantic  legend  of 
William  Tell.  He  rpn^pin^H  a  member  of  the  ij^^if"^  rVmrrh^ 
but  by  his  moderation  wop  t^]^  ^^iprrt  ftf  both  pnrrit  1  His 
brother  Peter  went  over  to  the  Zwinglians.  Valentine,  his 
cousin,  succeeded  Zwingli  as  the  pastor  at  Glarus.  At  first  the 
new  pastor  adopted  a  middle  course;  saying  mass  for  the 
Catholics,  and  preaching  sermons  to  the  Protestants  that  met 
with  their  approval.  Afterwards  he  married  and  ceased  to  say 
mass ;  but  he  continued  to  give  sermons  to  both  parties  and  by 
his  learning  and  conciliatory  disposition  retained  the  respect  of 
all.  It  is  this  'spirit  trf  ^fimprfrnijse  and  conciliation  t^^<-  gh^**— 
acterizes  fr<^  rpfr^rmatnry  tTinYfTTTrnt  in  thfT  rnnt-ffn:  and  even 
to-day  it  may  be  seen  in  the  joint  use  of  the  church  at  Glarus 
in  which  at  one  hour  mass  is  celebrated  by  the  Catholic  priest 
at  the  altar  and  at  another  a  sermon  is  preached  by  the  Protes- 
tant pastor  from  the  pulpit  Another  name  involved  in  the  re- 
ligious history  of  the  canton  is  that  of  Henry  Loriti  (1488- 
1563),  better  known  as  Glareanus,  the  most  distinguished  of  the 
Swiss  humanists,  who  became  strongly  inclined  to  heresy,  but 
who  withdrew  from  the  Protestant  movement  when  Erasmus 
repudiated  the  revolution  of  Luther  and  Zwingli.  From  Frei- 
burg, whither  he  went  with  Erasmus  and  other  humanists  who 
left  Basel  in  1529,  he  wrote  to  -Sgidius  Tschudi  and  worked 
with  him  for  the  retention  of  Catholicism.    The  final  settlement 

The  members  of  the  two  faiths  lived  amicably  side  by  side. 

Into  the  territory  that  is  now  included  in  the  canton  of  St.  protti- 
Gall  the  new  religious  beliefs  and  practices  were  introduced  by  JjJ^^JJi**^ 
two  men,  Vadianus  and  Kessler.    Joachim  von  Watt   (1484-  audits 
1551),  more  commonly  known  as  Vadianus,  was  a  humanist,  ^^•'•■^•'^ 
physician,  and  statesman,  and  a  correspondent  of  Reuchlin  and 
Erasmus.    In  the  town  of  St.  Gall,  where  he  practised  as  a 
physician,  and  where  he  was  several  times  elected  burgomaster. 


278 


THE  PROTESTANT  REVOLUTION 


0HA7. 


lA8i-80 


TOltOf 

Sdutff- 


he  displayed  an  active  interest  in  religious  matters,  calling  to  the 
city  several  ministers  and  teachers  of  the  new  faith.  He  took 
part  in  the  theological  disputations  in  Ziirich  and  presided  at  the 
one  held  in  Bern.  John  Kessler,  after  studying  theology  at 
Basel  and  Wittenberg,  preached  the  new  doctrines  in  the  town 
of  St  Gall  and  the  neighboring  villages  while  earning  his  living 
as  a  saddler.  The  abbey  and  the  town  of  St.  Gall  were  two  com- 
munities with  separate  interests.  It  was  in  the  seventh  century, 
so  the  legend  runs,  that  St.  Gall,  an  Irish  monk,  fell  ill  at  this 
place  and  upon  his  recovery  vowed  to  devote  the  remainder  of 
his  life  to  the  conversion  of  the  wild  tribes  in  the  neighboring 
mountains.  He  built  his  cell  a  thousand  feet  above  Lake  G>n- 
stance,  where  to-day  stand  the  abbey  and  town  that  bear  his 
name.  The  abbey  became  famous  as  a  place  of  learning,  and  its 
library  is  still  a  treasure-house  of  priceless  manuscripts.  As  the 
years  went  on  a  town  bearing  the  same  name  grew  up  beside  the 
abbey.  For  long  there  had  been  jealousy  between  the  towns- 
people and  the  monks.  The  former  wished  to  be  free  from  the 
jurisdiction  of  the  abbot.  Perhaps  this  accounts  in  part  for  the 
fact  that  when  Zurich  abandoned  the  old  faith  St.  Gall  was 
the  first  town  to  follow  its  example.  To  take  part  in  its  adminis- 
tration, and  to  protect  it,  the  cantons  of  Luzem,  Zurich,  Schwyz, 
and  Glarus  each  in  turn  sent  a  bailiff  every  two  years  to  the 
abbey.  It  was  Ziirich's  turn  in  1528  to  send  the  officer.  The 
abbot  was  on  his  deathbed  and  Zwingli  was  determined  to  use  the 
opportunity  to  further  his  revolt.  So  the  Zurich  bailiff  was  in- 
structed to  seize  the  convent  as  soon  as  the  abbot  should  have 
breathed  his  last,  secularize  it,  and  introduce  the  new  religion. 
But  the  impatient  townsmen  broke  into  the  abbey  several  hours 
before  the  death  of  the  abbot  The  monks  elected  another 
abbot  who  fled  over  the  green  delta  of  the  Rhine  to  Bregenz  on 
the  shore  of  Lake  Constance,  from  whence  he  protested  against 
the  seizure  of  the  abbey.  This  high-handed  procedure  did  much 
to  precipitate  the  war  that  broke  out  between  the  cantons.  The 
second  Peace  of  Cappel  provided  for  the  restoration  of  the 
abbey.  The  new  doctrines  also  found  their  way  into  the  Tog- 
genburg  valley  and  the  canton  of  Appenzell,  both  of  which  had 
been  under  the  jurisdiction  of  the  abbot  of  St  Gall. 

Into  Schaffhausen,  also,  the  only  canton  that  lies  altogether 
on  the  German  side  of  the  Rhine,  the  new  teachings  found  their 
way.  Chief  of  the  prooagandi^^g  in  that  territory  was  SebastiaD 
N^fmr'*^^****  (1476-1533),  a  Franciscan  friar  who  became  an 
ardent  admirer  of  Zwingli.  Because  of  the  discord  created  by 
the  appearance  of  some  Anabaptists  in  that  canton  he  was  sent 


THE  SWISS  REVOLT  FROM  ROME  279 


exile  and  a  reaction  towards  the  old  faith  took  place ;  but  in 

PrQt^^^nt^<sm  was   definitely  estahlighpH   in   th^  rat^tnn 

The  mountainous  region  that  now  forms  the  canton  of  Grau-  ^^••■** 
did  not  form  a  part  of  the  Swiss  confederation  in  the 
century.    It  was  included  in  three  confederacies  each  ProtM- 

Of  which  was  separately  allied  to  certain  of  the  Swiss  cantons.  0,^111^111^ 
^hich  valley  and  each  separate  group  of  people  was  isolated  by  den 
5  the  snow  from  the  rest  of  the  world  for  six  months  in  the  year. 
:  In  each  community,  as  a  consequence,  a  natural  and  compulsory 
i  autonomy    prevailed.    There    was    an    absence    of    continued 

episcopal  discipline;  and  tn]^rjanr#>^  nr  rather  impunity,  was  as- 
snred  fn  hpretiV.*;.  Chief  of  the  Zwinglians  in  these  high  val- 
leys were  Comander,  Gallicius,  and  Campell.  John  Comander 
(?-i557)  drew  up  eighteen  theses  based  upon  the  teachings  of 
Zwingli  for  the  disputation  which,  in  1526  at  the  order  of  the 
diet  of  the  three  confederacies,  was  held  in  Ilanz.  His  work 
and  that  of  his  assistants  resulted  a  few  months  later  in  the 
decision  of  the  diet  to  allow  every  individual  to  choose  between 
Catholicism  and  Zwinglianism  and  to  permit  every  parish  to 
dect  or  dismiss  its  priest  or  pastor  as  it  desired.  Tolerance  was 
extended  to  the  members  of  the  two  principal  faiths,  but  not  to 
the  minor  heresies  or  to  individual  heretics.  Philip  Gallicius 
(1504-66)  labored  principally  in  the  valley  of  the  Engadine; 
and  he  took  part  in  the  disputation  at  Ilanz  that  resulted  in  the 
l^ializing  of  the  Zwinglian  doctrines.  Ulrich  Campell  (1510?- 
82)  also  worked  in  the  Engadine.  The  very  situation  of  the 
different  valleys  and  communities,  isolated  by  the  mountains  and 
the  snow,  made  religion  in  Graubtinden  not  a  cantonal  but  a 
locaA  matter.  From  the  diet  of  Ilanz  to  our  own  dav  each  con- 
fp^^t"'"^"  u^y  rrm^'^^d  {^iipren^g,  choosing  its  religion  and  elect- 
mg,  maintaining,  and  releasing  its  pastor  at  its  will.  In  the 
Engadine  and  neighboring  valleys  there  is  still  spoken  by  some 
forty  thousand  people  a  Rhaeto-Romanic  language  which  has  a 
literature,  chiefly  religious,  of  its  own.  , — - — 

Zwingli,  it  will  be  seen,  is  the  great  outstanding  figure  in  the 
Swiss  revolt  from  the  Mother  Church,  just  as  Luther  is  the  zwisgU'a 
dominating  figure  in  the  German  revoluSpn.    In  many  respects  Jjjfso^'" 
the  teaching  of  these  two  leaders  is  similar.    Both  of  them  re-  ciai 
jected  the  authority  of  the  Church   for  the  authority  of  the      *^ 
Bible;  both  preached  the  doctrine  of  justification  by  faith  alone; 
and  both,  declaring  every  Christian  to  be  endowed  with  all  the 
qualities  of  priesthood,  erased  the  line  of  demarcation  between 
Ihe  clergy  and  the  laity.     But  there  was  a  fundamental  difference 
in  the  character,  the  outlook,  and  the  teaching  of  the  two  men. 


a8o 


THE  PROTESTANT  REVOLUTION 


OHAF. 


UlMl 


Luther  was  a  conservative  who  looked  to  the  past,  while  Xy 
wag  a  raf^^ofll  t»>Virfc  ii^/>iri>/j  |^  the  f^^ttfe.    Luther  accepted  Ikrl 

dogma  of  original  sin  without  question ;  but  Zwingli,  while  idf 
mitting  it  in  appearance,  in  reality  destroyed  it    The  Swiss  r^ 
former  taught  that  what  is  called  "  orighial  sin  "  is  merely  ti 
inclination  toward  sin  and  not  sin  itself;  and  that  this  imiatc 
inclination  toward  evil  is  not  the  result  of  any  sin  on  the  pait 
of  Adam  and  Eve  but  has  its  origin  in  nothing  else  than  the 
union  of  the  soul  with  the  body.    Man  is  inclined  to  sin»  theit- 
fore,  simply  because  he  is  a  finite  and  limited  being.    In  ad- 
vancing this  doctrine,  Zwingli  went  far  beyond  the  Christiani^ 
of  his  time.    From  it  proceeded  the  bold  statements  that  he 
made  in  the  Confession  of  Faith  that  he  addressed  to  the  king 
of  France.    "  We  may  hope  to  see  in  the  realm  of  eternal  life,'* 
he  said,  ''all  the  holy,  brave,  faithful,  and  virtuous  men  who 
have  lived  at  any  time  in  the  history  of  the  world."    Among 
them  will  be  Socrates  and  Seneca,  Aristotle  and  Aristides.    "  In 
fact,"  he  continued,  "there  is  no  good  man,  no  holy  spirit,  no 
faithful  soul,  that  will  not  be  seen  there  with  God.    What  more 
beautiful,  more  delightful,  and  more  glorious  spectacle  can  be 
imagined  than  this?"    It  was  f^'f^Ti  philoff^phYr  from  the  Neo- 
Platonism  of  Pico  della  Mirandola,  not  from  the  Christianity  of 
the  sixteenth  century,  that  th*f  i1nrtr"fi  ^^f^  nht^i'uf^d.    Zwingii 
always  remained  deeply  attached  to  the  Greek  and  Latin  writers, 
and  to  the  humanists  of  a  more  recent  age,  whom  he  had  read 
with  delight  in  his  youth  and  early  manhood.    Valerius  Maximus 
he  had  learned  by  heart ;  Plato  he  deemed  to  have  been  divinely 
inspired;  Seneca  he  esteemed  as  being  with  Paul  an  equal  wit- 
ness of  the  truth ;  and  he  loved  the  magic  of  Lucian's  words  and 
the  tranquillity  of  his  soul,  finding  in  his  books,  where  spring 
laughs  eternal,  "  the  double  dowry  of  counsel  and  delight."     The 
essence  of  religion,  so  Zwingli  thought,  was  the  confidence  of  the 
child  in  its  father,  in  the  confident  belief  that  the  creator  will  turn 
to  the  best  use  all  the  sorrow  and  suffering  in  the  world.    He  re- 
garded revelation  as  a  personal  and  inner  enlightenment  that 
comes  from  God  and  that  enables  the  individual  to  recognize 
God  and  to  live  in  harmony  with  the  divine  will.    This  revela- 
tion, this  spirit  or  inner  word  which  in  itself  is  sufficient  to 
effect  salvation,  is  not  connected  with  any  book  or  organization. 
Neither  is  it  to  be  found  only  within  the  pale  of  Christianity. 
It  comes  immediately  from  God  to  the  individual;  and  it  has 
been  present  and  can  still  be  found  where  no  syllable  of  the 
Scriptures  has  ever  penetrated.     In  the  ears  of  Luther  such  a 
doctrine  seemed  the  most  audacious  blasphemy.    ''  I  despair  of 


THE  SWISS  REVOLT  FROM  ROME  281 


OS  salvation,"  said  the  Saxon  friar,  "  for  he  has  become  a  pagan     ^5v^* 

vy  admitting  impious  pagans,  and  even  an  Epicurean  Scipio,  a 

^tuna,  the  instrument  of  the  devil  in  instituting  idolatry  among  "i** 
he  Romans,  to  the  ranks  of  the  blessed  souls.  What  is  the  good 
>f  baptism  and  the  other  sacraments,  the  Bible  and  Christ  him- 
self, if  the  impious,  the  idolaters,  and  the  Epicureans,  are  saints 
n  heaven?  What  else  is  this  than  to  teach  that  each  man  can  be 
aved  by  his  own  religion  and  belief  ?  "  The  doctrine  of  original 
jin  was  regarded  by  both  Luther  and  Calvin  as  part  of  the 
Fundamental  basis  of  Christianity ;  and  in  this  respect  they  were 
It  one  with  the  Church  from  which  they  had  severed.  Neither 
rfvas  so  daring  nor  so  liberal  as  the  cheerful-minded  Swiss  re- 
Former  with  his  wide  culture  and  his  breezy  and  wholesome  vigor. 
Dne  wonders  how  far  he  would  have  gone  had  not  his  work  been 
ntcmipted  and  left  incomplete  by  his  violent  death. 

It  seems  certain^however.  that  Zwingli  would  not Jhayg  gA"^  <" 

the  directioiTot  thosVAnabaptists  who  denied  the  nee4  gf  pglitical 
organization  and  of  social  progress  and  who  deemed  an  inner 
mlightenmeni  to  fae  the  sole  necessity  In  TTTer'^^eligion,  in  his 
riew,  found  its  fruition  in  social  advancement  as  well  as  in  in- 
lividual  salvation.  His  conception  of  the  act  of  communion 
Uustrates  his  emphasis'ornTe  social  aspect  of  reli^on.  He  de- 
nied, as  we  have  seen,  even  Luther's  half-way  theory  of  con- 
substantiation,  regarding  the  rite  as  being  devoid  of  all  sacra- 
nental  efficacy,  and  held  the  virtue  of  the  commemorative  cere- 
mony of  communion  to  reside  solely  in  the  fact  that  it  was  a 
rorporate,  social  act  in  which  a  body  of  worshipers  partici- 
pated. Another  fact  would  have  prevented  his  approach  to  the 
x)sition  of  the  Anabaptists.  He  was  interested  almost  as  deeply 
in  the  political  welfare  of  his  country  as  in  the  work  of  religious 
reformation.  The  two  things  were  intimately  associated  in  his 
nind.  The  Anabaptists  held  that  the  Christian  man  should  take 
10  interest  in  worldly  affairs,  that  he  should  divide  his  goods 
unong  the  poor,  that  he  should  never  take  an  oath,  nor  draw  the 
>word,  nor  serve  as  a  soldier.  In  answer  to  this  Zwingli  dis- 
inguished  between  an  inner  and  ideal  conception  of  the  state  of 
Mxriety,  possible  only  among  actual  saints,  and  the  external,  ac- 
:ual,  state  of  society  that  exists  as  the  result  of  the  weakness  of 
nan.  By  recognizing  and  controlling  the  right  of  private  prop- 
erty a  nearer  approach  can  be  made  to  a  state  of  perfection  than 
>y  its  abolition.  Then,  too,  the  fact  that  the  State  includes  non- 
rhristian  members  precludes  an  absolute  return  to  the  conditions 
)f  the  apostolic  age.  The  political  atmosphere  of  his  native  land 
md  the  ideas  of  the  ancients  combined  to  make  Zwingli  burst 


THE  PROTESTANT  REVOLUTION 


UlS-ti 


the  bonds  of  primitive  Christian  society,  abandon  die  ideal  of  the 
passive  resistance  of  a  peaceful  community  of  believers  to  the 
secular  authority,  and  substitute  in  its  stead  the  duty  of  the  faith- 
ful to  cooperate  in  the  formation  and  administration  of  the  dvil 
constitution.  According  to  Zwingli  the  ideal  organization  of 
society  is  a  republican  State  interpenetrated  with  the  lofty  social 
sentiment  of  the  Galilean.  The  combination  of  political  democ- 
racy with  the  social  creed  of  the  first  age  of  Christianity  forma 
an  ideal  that  is  still  prq;nant  with  change. 


CHAPTER  XVI 


THE  FRENCH   REVOLT  FROM   ROME 


1.  Lefevre    of    fitaples    and    his 

Pupils. 

2.  The  Reformers  at  Meaux. 

3.  Francis  and  the  Reformers. 

4.  Geneva. 


5.  Calvin's  Training. 

6.  Calvin's  First  Stay  at  Geneva. 

7.  Calvin  at  Strasburg. 

8b  Calvin's   Autocracy  at  Geneva. 

9.  Calvinism  in  France. 


OUT  of  the  sofl  of  France,  also,  there  grew  a  movement  of 
religious  reform;  one  that  possessed  characteristics  distin- 
guishing it  from  the  similar  and  simultaneous  movements  in  Ger-     "i^-ae 
many  and  Switzerland.     It  failed  to  win  the  support  of  the  mass 
of  the  populace,  owing  in  part  perhaps  to  the  skeptical  tempera-  oih*nefew- 
ment  of  the  people  with  whom  it  had  to  deal,  a  people^wsr^d  ^J^^ 
^y  ^^iTimftn  gp^y  rather  than  bx^pnthnsiasro,  and  so  more  or  B«to]t 
less  apathetic  to  the  cause  of  religious  reform,  or  at  least  dubious 
of  its  possibility.    Yet  it  found  a  minority  ftriimat^j  hy  a  pas- 
r^wfMiate  idealyst^  whose  intellectual  qualities  made  them  impatient 
of  a  middle  course  and  whose  separation   from  the   Mother 
Church  was  cleaner  cut  than  that  iirhirh  nmif^^^d  in  7i"y  -^»^?^ 
Jand.    Another  characteristic  of  the  French  revolt  was  that  it 

was  more  iT^t^^fly  ^i^""^trf|  ^'^*^  ^"*"HPisi"j  ^^^  ^^^  ^  longer 
period,  than  were  the  reform  movements  in  any  other  country. 
The  French  humanists  recovered  not  only  the  secular  writings 
of  Greece  and  Rome  but  also  early  versions  of  the  biblical  nar- 
ratives. "^ 
First  of  the  French  humanists  who  led  the  way  to  heresy  was 
L^fwrf;  pf  fitaple&  (1450?-! 536),  who  at  the  opening  of  the 
sixteenth  century  was  a  t,^tdier  in  the  Universitv  of  Eaxis.  In 
1512  he  issued  a  translati^Tfrbm  the  Cirepk  to  thp  T^f\i\  ^i  th<> 
Fpl«rtles  of  S^  P^"^  arrnmpaniVH  by  a  preface  and  a  commentary. 
Prefaces  at  that  time  filled  the  place  since  then  taken  by  news- 
papers, magazines,  and  monographs.  "  In  them  gushed  forth 
freely  the  passions  of  the  moment;  in  them  appeared  quite  un-  i^krn 
expectedly  many  a  new  opinion.  Now  as  naive  as  a  book  of  ^ 
intimate  confidences,  now  ardent  with  the  reverberations  of  yes- 
terday's controversy,  now  as  grave  as  a  declaration  of  princi- 
ples, these  prefaces  are  the  most  vivid  record  of  the  ideas  of  the 


284 


THE  PROTESTANT  REVOLUTION 


161t-M 


PnpUi 


sixteenth  century.^  In  his  dedicatory  preface,  anticipating  the 
action  of  Luther,  Lefevre  stated  in  the  most  definite  manner  his 
belief  in  the  exclusive  authority  of  the  Bible  and  in  justification 
byfaith_^lon^.  "  Let  us  not  speak  of  the  merit  of  works/'  he 
said, ''  which  is  very  small  or  none  at  all/'  In  1522  he  published 
in  Latin  a  Commentary  on  the  Gospels,  in  the  preface  of  which 
he  pleaded  for  the  restoration  of  primitive  Christianity,  and  for 
the  sole  authority  of  the  Scriptures.  **  To  know  only  the  Gos- 
pel/' he  affirmed,  "is  to  know  everything/'  Because  of  the 
gathering  enmity  to  him  at  Paris  he  accepted  the  invitation  of 
Bishop  Brigonnet  to  take  up  his  residence  at  Meaux,  a  little 
town  twenty-eight  miles  from  the  national  capital.  There  he 
devoted  himself  principally  to  the  work  of  translating  the  Bible. 
In  1523  he  issued  his  translation  of  the  New  Testament  into 
French.  It  did  not  mark  a  great  advance  upon  the  existmg 
TraicB^ersions,  but  yet  it  served  to  increase  the  knowledge  of 
the  life  of  Christ.  With  that  life  the  French  people  were  none 
too  familiar ;  and  when  it  was  placed  before  them,  in  all  its  pene- 
trating simplicity,  to  be  inspired  with  the  spirit  of  Christ  made 
up  the  sum  of  religion,  "  all  else  vanished  into  the  background." 
A  few  years  later  he  completed  a  fr^nslatinn  of  thf  HM  T<Mg»a, 
ment 

About  Lefevre,  in  the  University  of  Paris,  there  had  been 
grouped  a  little  band  of  scholars.  Quite  the  opposite  to  the 
gentle  master  was  the  figiy:  and  impetuous  Qninantne  Fa^-eL 
Others  were  pgra^d  Rgussel^  touched  with  nD^sticism  and  gifted 
with  the  power  of  eloquence ;  Michel  d'Arand^.  who,  like  Roussel, 
remained  within  the  Church  and  became  a  bishop;  Ecancois- 
Vatable^ who  revived  the  study  of  Hebrew  in  France;  and  Loili^ 
cTe  Berquii^j_^a  noble  of  high  position,  famous  alike  for  his  un- 


usual learning  and  the  purity  of  his  life.  All  of  these  humanists 
were  tainted  with  heresy.  So  they  incurred  the  hostility  of  the 
Sorbonne,  the  college  that  had  assumed  virtually  all  the  in- 
struction in  theology  given  in  the  University  of  Paris,  whose  de- 
cisions in  questions  relating  to  the  doctrines  and  practices  of  the 
Church  had  come  to  be  regarded  as  conclusive.  The  Snrb^^nt 
was  the  very  citadel  of  orthodoxy^.  In  152 1  in  a  pronuncia- 
mento  relating  to  all  who  held  heterodox  views  it  asserted  that 
"  their  impious  and  shameless  arrogance  must  be  restrained  by 
chains,  by  censures,  nay,  by  fire  and  by  flame,  rather  than  van- 
quished by  argument."  The  Parlement  of  Paris  was  equally 
hostile  to  the  heretics^  In  1521  it  commanded  all  of  Luther's 
books  that  haa  found  their  way. into  France  to  be  grvtn  up;  and 
two  years  later  it  seized  and  condemned  the  library  of  Louis  de 


THE  FRENCH  REVOLT  FROM  ROME  385 


Berquin  and  would  have  proceeded  against  the  humanist  him- 
self had  he  not  been  saved  by  the  interposition  of  the  king. 
Qcarly  the  path  of  heresy  in  France  was  beset  with  peril        V.     "**"*• 

ri^\\]9ttm^  ^*i^nnnrt,  t^d  been  appointed  bishop  of  Meaux  in' 
1516.  Previously  he  had  been  the  abbot  of  St.  Germain-des- 
Pres  in  Paris.  He  attempted  to  introduce  into  his  diocese  re-  nt^*. 
forms  that  he  had  long  cherished.  He  invited  as  preachers  cer-  JEHI^** 
tain  of  the  scholars  who  had  studied  under  Lefevre,  and  he 
instructed  them  to  read  the  ^spel  narratives  to  the  people  in 
French,  to  accomp^v  the  r^dingy  with  ^asy  ei^planations,  and 
lb  endeavor  to  arouse  a  genuine  religious  feeling.  These  things, 
he  thougfit,  were  sufficient  to  remedy  the  evils  of  the  time.  He 
did  not  desire  a  revolution.  But  some  of  his  new  preachers  were 
busy  inculcating  heretical  views.  Not  long  after  this  program 
had  been  put  under  way  Margaret  of  Angouleme,  the  sister  of 
Francis  I,  and  her  mother,  Louise  of  Savoy,  visited  Meaux. 
Both  of  them  favored  such  an  internal  reformation.  Margaret 
was  two  3rears  older  than  her  brother,  and  upon  him  she  exercised 
considerable  influence.  A  poet  of  distinct  talent,  she  was  sensi- 
tive to  all  the  currents  of  the  Renaissance  that  were  then  pulsing 
through  the  veins  of  France.  She  was,  says  a  contemporary 
writer,  **  a  solitary  violet  in  the  royal  garden,"  to  which  were  at- 
tracted all  the  better  spirits  in  France,  "  as  the  wild  thyme  at- 
tracts the  bees."  In  her  the  earlier  French  Renaissance  found 
not  only  its  epitome  but  also  its  "  good  fairy."  For  a  brief  time 
she  was  able  to  interest  both  her  mother  and  her  brother  in  the 
work  of  Brigonnet.  So  the  ff;fnrmaHnn  at  l^fp^i^  went  on  its 
way  ^uitil*  owing,  to  the  hostility  of  the  Sorbonne,  the  timid 
bishop  withdrew  l}\s,  support.,  Not  content  with  mere  negative 
action  the  Parlement  applied  additional  pressure  in  consequence 
of  which  Brigonnet  forbade  the  circulation  of  Luther's  books 
in  his  diocese.  The  war  with  the  Empire  entailed  the  absence 
of  the  king.  So  his  mother,  Louise,  was  made  regent.  Acting 
upon  the  advice  of  the  Chancellor,  Cardinal  Duprat,  and  of  the 
Sorbonne,  she  began  to  take  more  aggressive  measures  against 
the  spreading  heresy.  When  the  king  was  defeated  and  captured 
at  the  battle  of  Pavia  in  1525  there  seemed  to  be  an  imperative 
necessity  of  acting  in  concert  with  the  papal  power  in  order  to 
secure  its  support  against  Germany.  A  special  commission  was 
appointed  by  the  Parlement  to  deal  with  the  heretics.  Farel, 
who  had  proved  to  be  far  more  radical  than  Brigonnet  desired, 
had  already  left  Meaux;  and  one  by  one  the  other  reformers, 
^ed  befof<^  thfi  F^hgp^g  ^^9rflh  Behind  them  were  left  the 
people  who  had  embraced  the  new  doctrines  and  who  fur* 


286 


THE  PROTESTANT  REVOLUTION 


1S26-84 


ObMif»d 
Attttnd* 

Sine 


^^^^'^     nished  some  of  the  earliest  victims  of  the  French  revolt  from 
Rome. 

Ifl-^arch,  1526,  Francis  I  returned  from  his  captivity  in 
Madrid.  By  the  terms  of  the  treaty  of  release  he  had  promised 
to  cooperate  in  the  suppression  of  Lutheran  and  other  heretical 
sects.  He  was  a  generous  patron  of  arts  and  letters,  giving 
substantial  encouragement  to  poets,  philosophers,  architects, 
painters,  and  sculptors.  XTp  to  this  time  he  had  viewed  the 
reformation  carried  on  at  Meaux  with  distinct  approval.  His 
own  religious  convictions,  however,  were  not  very  deep,  and 
doubtless  it  did  not  require  any  very  great  pressure  to  convert 
his  favorable  attitude  toward  the  reformers  into  an  unfavorable 
lif  #<fKf*     one.     The  paramount  consideration  with  him  was  doubtless  the 

expediency  of  securing  the  papal  support.  Then,  too,  the 
French  clergy  agreed  to  contribute  1,300,000  livres  to  the  ex- 
penses of  the  war  with  Charles  V,  which  had  broken  out  again, 
provided  that  measures  were  taken  for  the  suppression  of  heresy. 
So,  after  the  self-indulgent  king  had  made  up  his  arrears  of 
pleasure  and  had  left  the  capital,  persecution  be^n  in  earnest^ 
One  of  the  most  prominent  of  tfie  victims  was  Louis  de  Ber-- 
quin. 

In  1533  an  event  occurred  which  for  the  time  being  still  fur- 
ther connected  the  royal  power  with  the  cause  of  orthodoxy - 
Henry,  the  second  son  of  Francis,  was  married  to  Catherine  de  ^ 
Medici,  the  niece  of  Pope  Qement  VIL  And  then,  too,  just  a^ 
circumstances  seemingly  conspired  to  make  the  secular  authorit)< 
more  hostile  to  heresy,  the  heretics  themselves  became  more  ag — 
gressive.  On  November  i,  1533,  Nirhnlfi.*;  Cgp^  the  newly  ap — 
pointed  rector  of  the  University  of  Paris,  made  a  public  address 

in  which  he  contended  that  salvation  i<;  f\\^  gift  nf  Qq^^uA  onum^ 

not  be  obtained  by  the  performance  of  good  works.  The  address 
was  a  misju3gment  of  the  temper  ol  the  time  and  the  place. 
It  created  an  uproar,  and  the  rector  was  compelled  to  seek 
safety  in  flight.  Six  months  later,  a  certain  John  (^.^\v\ti  who, 
so  rumor  said,  was  the  actual  author  of  the  address,  was  also 
obliged  to  flee  from  Paris.  A  year  later  when  the  inhabitants 
of  Paris  woke  up  on  the  morning  of  October  18,  they  found 
copies  of  a  placard  denouncing  the  mass  posted  on  the  walls  of 
the  principal  streets.  This  gratuitous  attack  upon  the  central 
ceremony  of  Catholicism  infuriated  the  populace,  and  the  anger 
of  the  king  was  likewise  aroused  when  a  copy  of  the  offensive 
placard  was  found  affixed  to  the  door  of  his  bedchamber.  Three 
months  later  a  solemn  expiatory  procession,  in  which,  immedi- 
ately behind  the  Host  held  aloft  in  a  silver  cross,  the  king  walked 


TlM 

Bereties 
Become 
Amrei- 
■iTe 


THE  FRENCH  REVOLT  FROM  ROME  a8; 

¥ith  head  uncovered,  wended  its  way  to  the  celebration  of  high  °5^* 

nass  in  the  cathedral  of  Notre  Dame.    A  censorship  of  the  press      

wras  established;  and  tlie  burning  of  heretic^  wn*i  ^?m>t1  ^n  ^**^^ 
iiore  vigorously  than  ever.    Almost  four  hundred  were  com- 
mittea  to  the  names  in  less  than  a  year. 

In  July,  1535,  the  Chancellor,  Cardinal  Duprat,  died.    His  suc- 
:essor,  Antoine  du  Bourg,  was  more  favorably  disposed  toward 

the  reformers.    A  week  after  his  succession  to  office  the  king  ThtKiiif 

issued  the  Edict  of  Courcy  which  provided  that  only  incorri^ble  ^JS^2* 

heretics  were  to  be  persecuted  and  that  those  who  renounced  thtPoiicy 

their  errors  within  six  months  were  to  be  pardoned.    The  Edjct  JJuoT*" 

af  Lyo^g.  issued  in  the  following  year,  was  still  more  favorable  |^\^  JL4 

to  the  dissenters.     But  these  measures  of  comparative  mildness  «M|#  ^4^ 


did  not  succeed  in  checking  heresy.  In  consequence  the  king 
from  about  the  year  1538,  in  which  the  mild  Du  Bourg  was  suc- 
:eeded  by  Guillaume  Poyet,  became  wholly  committed  to  the 
[X)licy  of  active  suppression.  Especially  given  to  persecution  of 
Jie  religious  dissenters  was  Cardinal  de  Toumon  who  obtained 
I  complete  ascendancy  over  the  king.  From  that  time  on 
leretics  were  burned  all  over  France.     In  it^4«^  thre^  ^|^(7ii<:anH 

y^]H<*ng<>c      tYi^ri      wr^tn^n      nnrl    nUWAt-^n^    iirVi/^    UnA    nffi)iof^/1    them- 

^Ives  with  the  Lutheran  creed,  were  massacred  with  exceeding 
brutality.  The  Edict  of  Fontainebleau,  published  in  1540,  pro- 
rided  for  rigid  measures  for  the  discovery  and  punishment  of 
leresy.  The  most  prominent  of  the  victims  was  fitienne  Dolet, 
)f  whom  we  have  seen  something  in  our  study  of  humanism  and 
ts  relation  to  heresy.  Because  of  the  unsubstantiated  charge 
)f  atheism  he  was  burned  to  death  in  1546,  in  the  Place  Mau- 
)ert  in  Paris,  where  to-day  there  stands  an  expiatory  monument 
erected  to  his  memory.  His  cruel  death  was  applauded  by 
Protestants  as  well  as  by  Catholics.  On  March  31,  1547, 
Francis  I  died.  Under  his  successor,  Henry  II,  the  persecution 
ncreased  in  severity,  but  instead  of  suppressing  heresy  it  simply 
lompelled  it  to  seek  subterranean  ways  and  transported  its  cen- 
cr  from  Paris  to  Geneva.     It  is,  therefore,  with  the  work  of 

he  French  reformers  in  Geneva  that  we  have  now  to  deal. 

Geneva  lies  at  the  south-west  end  of  Lake  Leman,  at  the 
K>int  where  its  blue  waters  run  swiftly  into  the  Rhone.  It  is 
tear  the  most  frequented  of  the  Alpine  passes,  and  so  it  was  a 
enter  of  the  commerce  carried  on  between  France,  Germany,  Qm&w% 
ind  Italy.  In  the  early  part  of  the  sixteenth  century  its  varied 
copulation,  derived  from  Latin  and  Teutonic  sources,  amounted 
taly  to  some  twelve  or  thirteen  thousand.  Early  in  the  twelfth 
lec^ry  it  had  come  under  the  overlordship  of  the  German  em- 


288  THE  PROTESTANT  REVOLUTION 


^^SS*     perors  and  was  in  consequence  technically  r^^rded  as  an 

perial  city/'    In  actual  practice  it  was  under  the  sovereignty  o( 

1S75-1M8   ^g   bishop    of    Geneva,    who   acknowledged   the   emperor  ii 
suzerain.    The    bishop    delegated    his    temporal    power   to  a 
vidomme,  an  office  which  from  1290  to  1525  was  held  by  the 
Z#^^.         dukes  of  Savoy.    The  vidomme  exercised  seignorial  rights,  but 
i«l«i\  9^     to  the  citizens  there  was  left  a  considerable  margin  of  municipal 
ikelf-govemment.    The    city    was    thus    governed    by    bishopp 
zndomme.  and  commune.    The  attempt  of  the  House  of  Savqjr 
to  consolidate  its  territories  seemed  to  Geneva  to  threaten  dK 
loss  of  her  liberties.    So  in  1504  war  broke  out  between  die 
Genevese  and  their  vidomme.    The  struggle  for  independence, 
in  which  Geneva  received  the  aid  of  Freiburg  and  Bern,  lasted 
for  twenty  years  and  resulted  in  the  abolition  of  the  vidommate. 
This  was  followed  by  the  repudiation  of  the  governmental  power 
of  the  bishop.    Freiburg,  the  first  ally  of  Geneva  in  her  effort  to 
throw  off  the  yoke  of  Savoy,  was  a  staunch  supporter  of  the 
Mother  Church.    The  Bernese  Vaud,  on  the  other  hand,  the 
most  powerful  member  of  the  Swiss  Confederation,  had  accepted 
Protestantism  in  1528;  and  that  canton  desired  to  see  the  same 
faith  introduced  into  Geneva.    Freiburg  was  opposed  to  the 
suggested  change.    When  confronted  with  the  conflicting  de- 
sires of  her  allies,  Geneva  decided  somewhat  negatively  in  favor 
of  the  party  of  religious  change.    The  decision  was  beyond 
doubt  determined  by  political  expediency  and  was  not  the  result 
of  a  sincere  religious  belief,  for  the  Genevese  had  as  yet  evinced 
little  sympathy  with  the  new  doctrines. 

To  Geneva  there  came  in  October,  1532,  armed  with  a  letter 
from  Bern,  Guillaum<*,  F^^^^  ^^^  most  aggressive  of  the   re- 
formers of  Meaux,  who  since  his  flight  from  that  bishopric  had 
been  actively  engaged  with  others  in  the  work  of  converting  to 
GtaMTft       the  evangelical  cause  the  French-speaking  part  of  Switzerland. 
Beoomet      g^^  ^j^^  ardent  and  uncompromising  preacher  so  o 


Proteit- 

Mt  ^GfineiLCse^that  in  a  few  days  he  was  compelled  to  flee  f rgm  the. 

city.  He  did  not  abandon  the  effort  to  win  over  Geneva,  but 
persuaded  Antoine  Froment  to  carry  on  the  work  of  evangeliza- 
tion in  his  absence.  Froment  took  up  the  mission  while  engaged 
ostensibly  in  the  work  of  a  school  teacher.  Outbreaks  continued 
to  occur  between  the  Catholics  and  Protestants.  Freiburg  and 
Bern  sent  representatives  to  further  their  conflicting  religious 
interests,  and  with  the  delegates  from  Bern  came  Pierre  Viret, 
one  of  Farei's  assistant  preachers.  In  December,  1533,  the  in- 
domitable Farel  ventured  to  return  and  resume  his  impassioned 
and  eloquent  preaching.    The  last  Stfltf*  ^f  tbf  Innr  'itnic};!! 


THE  FRENCH  REVOLT  FROM  ROME 


289 


1688-36 


0S4P. 


independ?^;;ff  ^^ag  HJr#»r»i 

It  was  perhaps  inevitable  that  this  should  assume 
tfie  cobr  of  a  revolt  ayainst  thft  O^"^^*'  This  feeling  of  op- 
poshim  reinforced  by  the  effect  produced  by  the  ignorance  and 
mmioraity  of  the  Genevese  clergy,  and  combined  with  a  slight 
but  increasing  d^^ee  of  Protestant  conviction,  lent  favor  to 
the  cause  of  the  reformers.  The  new-bom  independence  pre- 
pared the  way  for  a  new-bom  faith.  In  ytj'^^  thi>  ^^fg«;ation  of 
the  mass  was  ordered^  ^nd  thus  the  ^JtY  wn?  ^^^^^My  r^^^^^^ftg^ 

Pro^stantisqi^  On  May  21  of  the  following  year  the  citizens 
voted  their  determination  "to  live  in  this  holy  evangelical  law 
and  Word  of  God,  as  it  has  been  announced  to  us,  desiring  to 
abandon  all  masses,  images,  idols,  and  all  that  which  may  per- 
tain thereto."  Two  months  later  there  came  to  the  city  a  way- 
farer, John  Calvin,  seeking  rest  for  a  night  before  restuning  his 
journey  from  France  to  Strasburg.  , 

Calvin  was  bom  on  July  10,  1509,  at  Noyon,  a  little  town  in 
Picardy,  sixty-seven  miles  to  the  north-east  of  Paris.    His  par- 
ents belonged  to  the  lower  middle  class.    His   father  was  a 
lawyer  who  also  held  several  ecclesiastical  benefices;  and  his  oai^tn't 
modier,  a  beautiful  and  pious  woman,  was  the  daughter  of  a  *»*»*»« 


$r^if^i 


and  when  he  was  fourteen  years  of  age  sent  him  to  the  Univer-  #C#f«)  I 
sitv  of  Paris.    The  University  had  lost  its  former  preeminence  ^   SIL^ 


University 


preemmence 


in  the  world  of  scholarship.  It  clung  to  the  scholasticism  that  .  t4 
was  gradually  being  discredited,  and  only  an  occasional  humanist  ^*^,*^ 
was  to  be  found  within  its  walls.  One  such  teacher  the  young  OULaM^ 
boy  met  in  Maturin  Cordier,  who  strove  to  make  Latin  a  living 
thing  for  his  pupils  and  succeeded  in  helping  Calvin  to  acquire 
a  good  command  of  the  language.  Five  of  the  formative  years 
of  youth  Calvin  spent  in  Paris,  and  then  in  1528,  just  as  Igna- 
tius Loyola  entered  it,  he  left  the  capital  to  go  to  Orleans.  Act- 
ing upon  his  father's  ^d vice  he  had  decided  to  abandon  theology 
for  law.  He  went  to  the  University  of  Orleans  to  be  able  to 
profit  ty  the  lectures  of  Pierre  de  Tfitoile,  the  most  famous 
among  the  French  legal  scholars  of  the  day.  After  a  year  at 
Orleans  he  went  still  farther  south  to  Bourges  in  order  to  study 
with  Andrea  Alciati,  an  Italian  scholar,  who*  was  the  most  scien- 
tific legal  teacher  of  the  time.  After  the  death  of  his  father  in 
1 53 1  Calvin  decided  to  devote  himself  to  letters.  In  the  same 
year  he  published  a  commentary  upon  Seneca's  De  Clementia. 
The  book  is  a  plea  addressed  to  a  mler  for  the  exercise  of 


ago  THE  PROTESTANT  REVOLUTION 

*  ■         ■  ■  ■  I   ■       ■  mi  m 

I 

<^^^*     clemency.    In  his  preface  Calvin  boldly  denounced  thci:  malad- 

ministration  of  justice  in  the  public  courts.    It  was  prlbably  a 

1600-36  y^j.  Qj.  ^Q  after  the  appearance  of  this  his  first  boolc^  that  he 
definitely  withdrew  from  the  Catholic  fold.  It  was  in  ihe  latter 
part  of  1533  that,  because  of  his  alleged  airt^^^^T  ^^  ^«-h^^fa^ 
Cop's  heretical  ^address,_he  was  obliged  to  seek  safety  in  flight 

It  is  impossible  to  say  definitely  what  it  was  that  ] 
wrought  about  Calvin's  change  in  religious  belief.    From  his 
mother  he  had  inherited  a  zeal  for  religion,  and  the  swelling 
tide  of  the  Protestant  Revolution  was  therefore  very  likely  to 
sweep  him  from  his  old  moorings.    He  himself  regarded  his 
^      conversion  as  a  sudden  one,  and  as  being  the  direct  woiic  of 
'\    God ;  but  it  was  probably  a  gradual  change.    After  leaving  Paris 
*^      he  wandered  up  and  down  France  for  a  few  months  and  then 
w^nt  to  live  in  BaseL  one  of  the  most  important  centers  of  hu- 
manism north  of  the  Alps,  a  city  in  which  Protestantism  had 
gained  a  firm  footing,  a  place  of  refuge  and  repose,  such  as  he 
needed  at  the  time,  where  he  could  carry  on  his  literary  work  un^ 
hindered.    There  jt  was  that  in  1536  he  completed  the  first  edi- 
tion of  the  ff^^tituif  nf  the  Christian  R^lifHon  which  he  had  b^;un 
in  Angouleme. 

It  is  with  the  Christianas  jf^sUffinnlc  ftLcJJHitin  »Via»  fti^  Atu^ 
.trinal  deyflnprr^^^^  ^^  cu^rtii^j^  itnrtfd  The  first  ^ition  is 
naXniii-  t^i^^^iy  ^»  nnt^"**'^  ^f  what  the  work  subsequently  became,  but 
^^Q&^  i^  contains  in  embryo  all  the  fundamental  views  of  its  author. 
^^^•-  The  changes  that  were  made  were  changes  of  form  and  emphasis 
and  not  of  doctrine.  Unlike  the  later  editions  it  places  chief 
gjfpjs*^  ]ipnt]  ptViipg  and  the  practical  conduct  of  religious  affairs 
rather  than  upon  dogma.  Viewed  from  the  standpoint  of  doc- 
trin *.  it  is  an  explanation  of  the  Apostles'  Creed  accompanied  by. 
a  commentary.  In  the  Creed  there  are  four  fundamental  as- 
severations of  faith:  (i)  I  believe  in  God  the  Father;  (2)  and 
in  His  Son,  Jesus  Christ;  (3)  and  in  the  Holy  Ghost;  and  (4) 
in  the  Holy  Catholic  Church.  The  InstUute  is  divided  into 
four  parts  each  of  which  explains  and  comments  upon  one  of 
these  basic  sentences.  Viewed  from  the  standpoint  of  ethics, 
of  worship,  and  of  ecclesiastical  polity,  the  book  has  six  chap- 
ters that  deal  with  (i)  daiJy  conduct,  (2)  faith,  (3)  prayer,  (4) 
the  two  sacraments  authorized  by  the  Scriptures,  (5)  the  false 
sacraments  established  by  the  Catholic  Church,  and  (6)  the  re- 
lation of  the  Church  to  the  State.  The  book  is  very  considerably 
indebted  to  thinkers  who  had  preceded  Calvin,  especially  to  the 
leaders  of  the  Protestant  Revolution  who  came  immediately  be- 
fore him.     It  is  more  the  work  of  codification  than  of  creation. 


THE  FRENCH  REVOLT  FROM  ROME  291 


gathered  up,  with  the  art  of  a  master  builder,  the  scattered 
ts  of  heretical  thought  and  made  of  them  a  symmetrical  struc- 
xe.  Its  logical  precision  and  lucidity  of  statement  made  it  i»3e 
comparably  the  most  ejgFg|^jvp  ^vpr^cit^'^p  of  Protf^ttinti'im  t*^^^ 
id  yet  been  made.  Yet  something  it  did  add  that  was  new  and 
Kniliar  to  Calvin  —  the  Romanic  idea  of  religious  reform,  which 
"oved  to  be  better  adapted  for  international  propaganda  than 
ther  the  Luthei^'H  bf  Zwin^haii  fUliTTSf: — PreflTCTt  to  the  book 
an  address  to  Francis  I,  implying  that  heresy  is  intolerable  but 
pudiating  for  the  French  Protestants,  whom  it  defends,  all 
jresy  and  all  sympathy  with  heresy. 

Before  the  Institute  had  come  from  the  printing  press 
alvin  left  Basel  for  Italy  to  visit  Renee,  duchess  of  Ferrara,  the  oioinii't 
)ungest  of  the  two  daughters  of  Louis  XII,  the  late  king  of  2en*aof 
ranee.  We  are  sure  neither  of  the  reasons  nor  the  details  of 
le  visit.  Renee  was  a  patroness  of  the  new  learning  and  sym- 
Lthetically  disposed  towards  the  heretical  reformers.  Perhaj 
alvin  hoped  to  persuade  her  to  use  her  influence  in  France  on 
iialf  of  the  persecuted  reformers;  perhaps  he  hoped  to  make 
errara  a  center  of  Protestantism ;  or  maybe  it  was  merely  the 
ilfilment  of  the  dream  that  every  humanist  harbored  in  his 
art  some  day  to  visit  Italy.  His  visit  was  a  brief  one.  Alone 
id  on  foot,  by  the  steep  pass  of  Duranda,  he  returned  to  Basel ; 
id  from  there  he  went  to  his  birthplace,  where  his  brother 
harles  had  recently  died,  to  arrange  his  family  affairs.  On  his 
ay  from  France  to  Strasburg  he  stopped  for  a  single  night  at 
eneva. 

It  would  be  well  before  taking  up  the  story  of  Calvin  in 
eneva  to  sum  up  very  briefly  the  condition  of  the  city  in  which  Omi&w% 
t  was  to  find  his  principal  field  of  work.  Geneva,  as  we  have  SSSS't 
en,  had  overthrown  the  dominion  of  the  duke  and  the  bishop.  attItii 
hereby  she  had  secured  political  independence.  But  the  gov- 
nment  that  had  taken  the  place  of  those  authorities  was  not  a 
mocratic  one.  ^ower  was  concentrated  in  the  hands  nf  ^  fgw 
SJL  In  ecclesiastical  matters  the  Genevcse  lacked  both  or- 
inization  and  creed.  They  were  committed  to  Protestantism 
id  they  supported  Protestant  preachers.  That  is  as  much  as 
n  be  said.  The  old  religious  edifice  had  been  torn  down,  but 
new  one  had  not  yet  been  erected  in  its  place.  Genevan  society 
the  years  that  intervened  between  the  achievement  of  political 
dependence  and  the  arrival  of  Calvin  has  been  described  as  be- 
g  given  over  to  license  and  disorder,  though  this  appears  to  be 
I  exaggeration.  There  seems  to  be  no  proof  indicating  that 
e  Genevese  were  more  given  to  corruption  and  lawlessness  at 


292  THE  FROTESTANT  REVOLUTION 


^xvx*     ^^^  ^^^  ^^  ^^'^  ^^  inhabitants  of  any  other  Eurcq>ean  dty 

of  the  same  size.    Finally  it  should  be  borne  in  mind  that  liberty 

1536^8     q£  conscience  had  not  been  established.    Tji^g  haH  K^pw  paaggj^ 
tfiat  rntrirtfld  frtri^^^m  nf  rpiiei^nc  r^pmign 

Such,  in  brief,  was  the  condition  of  affairs  in  Geneva  when, 

one  day  in  August,  1536,  there  entered  the  gates  of  the  dty  to 

orItui        rest  for  a  night  before  resuming  his  journey,  a  frail  young 

to  suty  u    Frenchman,  with  a  refined  and  scholarly  air  about  him,  singularly 

r    4  jj*  pallid  of  face,  with  lustrous  eyes  that  retained  their  brightness 

ri^V^v .     ^^^^  ^^  j^lg  j^^     j^  ^j^g  Jnh^  ralyin  on  his  wav  to  Strasbury 

where  he^  hoped  to  lead  the  quiet  life  of  a  scholar.  But  Fard 
heard  that  the  author  of  the  Institute  was  in  th€  dty  and  has- 
tened to  tell  him  that  Geneva  needed  his  aid  Calvin  declined 
to  stay.  He  pleaded  his  unfitness  for  the  work  that  was  to  be 
done,  and  asked  to  be  allowed  to  go  upon  his  way.  "  May  God 
curse  your  studies,"  answered  Farel,  "  if  now  in  her  hour  of 
necessity  you  refuse  to  lend  your  aid  to  His  Church."  Thus  did 
the  zealous  old  man  morally  compel  Calvin  to  renounce  the  life 
he  had  contemplated  and  take  up  his  work  in  Geneva. 

It  was  not  long  before  a  Confession  of  Faith  was  drawn  up, 
intended  "  to  give  some  shape  to  the  newly  established  Church," 
TheOoii-     ^  brief  creed  of  twenty-one  artirlpQ^  ,writfrpn  probably  by  Farel, 
^th^fh^d^ut  indebted  for  its  thought  and  arrangement  to  Calvin.    By 
means  of  the  Confession  the  inhabitants  of  Geneva  were  to  be 
separated,  the  Protestants  from  the  Catholics.    There  was  to  be 
L^c#MtttlM^^  equivocation.    Each  was  to  choose  one  creed  or  the  other. 
«t  vJli*^     And  all  those  who  declined  to  accept  the  new  creed  were  to  be 
[j|-  if »  » ^  Hrivpn  from  the  Genevan  territory.    The  Confession  was  ap- 
proved by  the  Little  Council  and  its  enforcement  authorized. 
The  Council  of  Two  Hundred  also  approved  it,  though  not  with- 
out some  opposition,  and  it  was  adopted  by  citizens  assembled  in 
the  cathedral.    Then,  on  different  days,  the  captains  of  the  sev- 
eral divisions  of  the  city  took  the  people  to  the  cathedral  where 
in  groups  they  accepted  the  new  creed  on  oath.    But  there  were 
those  who  disapproved  and  stayed  away. 

Together  with  the  Confession  of  Faith  there  was  submitted 
TheDiB.  to  the  magistrates  of  the  city  a  Discipline^  that  sketched  an  ec- 
clesiastical  organization  and  outlined  the  relation  of  the  civil 
to  the  ecclesiastical  power.  Discipline,  the  control  of  dailyL 
life,  had  been  a  prime  concern  of  the  early  Church,  and  Calvja 
deemed  it  to  be  an  equally  essentia^  concgm  of  the  Church  ^hen  in 
the  process  of  establishment.  The  ecclesiastical  sentences  for 
breach  of  discipline  were  to  extend  to  the  extremity  of  excom- 
munication.   "It  is  expedient,"  it  was  contended,  "and  accord^ 


THE  FRENCH  REVOLT  FROM  ROME  293 


ing  to  the  ordinance  of  God  that  all  open  idolaters,  blasphemers,  ^"^^ 
murderers,  thieves,  adulterers,  and  false  witnesses,  all  seditious 
and  quarrelscxne  persons,  slanderers,  pugilists,  drunkards,  and 
spendthrifts,  if  they  do  not  amend  their  lives  after  they  have 
been  duly  admonished,  shall  be  cut  off  from  communion  with 
believers  until  they  have  given  satisfactory  proofs  of  repent- 
ance." The  censures  of  the  Church,  Calvin  insisted,  were  to  be 
enforced  by  the  civil  authority.  Secular  enforcement  of  disci- 
pline was  adopted  by  the  councils,  but  they  declined  to  approve 
the  penalty  of  excommunication.  Later  on,  when  Calvin  re- 
turned from  exile,  he  succeeded,  after  meeting  with  great  op- 
position, in  securing  the  adoption  of  excommunication,  though 
not  in  the  way  he  had  desired. 

Another  thing  to  be  done  was  to  provide  for  elementary  re- 
ligious instruction.  So  Calvin  wrote  a  Catechism,  designed  for 
children,  but  also  intended  to  be  useful  to  the  adult  citizen,  which 
was  published  in  1537.  It  <^jsp1ain<>H  thf  T^"  ^Otr"^T^ndniftB^^i 
the  Apostles*  Creed,  the  T^rrj^  P*-^^**-^  ^nd  t^?  ffly;r^"^^^^i  ^- 
inj^  a  conaensanop  QJ  ft\^  Instiiutf^  Calvin  intended  it  to 
be  easily  comprehensible,  but  it  proved  to  be  altogether  too  diffi- 
cult, too  theological,  too  minute,  for  children,  and  in  1541  it 
was  replaced  by  a  revised  edition. 

No  definite  office  was  given  to  Calvin  at  first,  but  two  months 
after  he  entered  the  city  he  was  made  one  of  its  pastors.  This 
was  the  only  office  to  which  he  received  a  regular  appointment. 
Yet  in  an  incredibly  short  time  he  became  the  virtual  dictator  of 
the  city,  ruling  it  until  his  death,  except  for  the  three  years  of 
his  banishment,  with  a  rod  of  iron.  It  was  a  jrav  and  pleasure^ 
loving  people  with  whom  he  had  to  deal.  Their  days  of  labor  ThtSef- 
were  relieved  with  many  festivals.  'Diey  were  fond  of  dancing.  ^^"'^^ 
of  music,  and  of  masquerades.  To  the  strolling  mummers  they 
gave  a  hearty  welcome,  and  they  delighted  to  see  the  "merry- 
andrews  making  mirth  on  the  green."  In  the  evening,  after 
the  day's  work  was  done,  they  gossiped  in  the  cabarets  over  their 
wine  or  indulged  in  a  friendly  game  of  cards.  But  especially  at 
weddings  did  they  dance  and  feast  to  their  hearts'  desire.  All 
this  was  now  to  be  abandoned  and  in  its  stead  was  to  be  sub*- 
stituted  a  "holv  reifpi  of  terfoi;.''  All  citizens  were  obliged  to 
attend  two  sermons  on  Sunday,  those  who  played  cards  were 
exhibited  publicly  in  the  pillory ;  to  laugh  at  Calvin's  sermons  or 
to  speak  disrespectfully  of  him  in  the  street  was  accounted  a 
crime.  No  more  could  a  bride  be  adorned  as  of  old,  her  hair  un- 
braided  and  flowers  at  her  breast  To  wear  one's  hair  in  grace- 
ful tresses  or  to  be  decked  too  gaily  was  a  violation  of  the  moral 


294 


THE  PROTESTANT  REVOLUTION 


1586-38 


code.  No  more  were  weddings  a  time  of  special  rejoicing, 
have  too  many  guests  at  a  feast,  or  too  many  dishes,  or  to  iaaa^J^ 
was  a  crime.  An  old  woman  who  lighted  a  taper  and  mtmibiel 
a  litany  was  whipped  severely ;  and  a  child  who  struck  its  pa^ 
ents  was  beheaded.  Did  all  this  lead  to  an  improvement  in  tfai 
morality  of  Geneva?  It  is  at  best  doubtful.  Most  likely  die 
stem  regulations  and  harsh  punishments  simply  drove  immoral- 
ity below  the  surface.  "  True  holiness  is  that  which  men  Utt 
and  grow  into  in  the  strength  of  high  principles  and  noble  aflfec- 
tions,  not  that  which  is  bolstered  up  by  regulations  and  protested 
by  penalties." 

Inevitably  opposition  arose  against  so  harsh  a  r^[ime.  It 
consisted  principally  of  the  Eidgenossen,  the  patriotic  dtizens 
who  had  fought  for  independence  against  the  duke  and  the 
bishop  and  who  saw  their  hard-won  liberty  disappearing  befoie 
the  encroachments  of  a  new  tyranny;  but  it  included  also  the 
worst  element  of  the  population;  and  so  it  received  from  Ae 
Calvinists  the  undeserved  name  of  the  "  Libertines."  So  pow-  j 
erful  was  the  reaction  that  at  the  election  of  the  four  sjmdics 
VjClffirT-  early  in  1538  three  of  them  were  chosen  from  the  ranks  of  the 
f  cf     "  Patriots."    Closely  connected  with  this   reaction  against  tibe 

"v  '  ^  ^  drastic  regulations  and  inquisitorial  procedure  with  which  Calvin 
^^^  Vjl  s^^S^^  ^^  effect  a  renovation  of  the  Genevese  character  vras  a  ■ 
^S/Ca^^  •quarrel  over  theological  matters  with  the  Bernese  authorities. 
Presuming  upon  the  assistance  rendered  to  Geneva  in  her  struggle 
for  independence  the  Bernese  authorities  demanded  that  their 
neighboring  city  should  conform  to  certain  ecclesiastical  usages, 
among  which  was  the  celebration  of  communion  with  unleavened 
bread.  This  Calvin  refused  to  do.  The  Patriots  at  once  saw 
the  opportunity.  They  uiJield  the  demand  of  the  Bernese. 
Calvin  and  Farel  refused  to  yield.  So,  in  the  year  1538,  both 
of  them  were  banished.  The  bow  had  been  strained  until  it 
snapped  asunder.  Calvin's  drastic  and  despotic  rule  proceeded 
from  the  best  intentions.  It  had  a  lofty  aim.  Perhaps  he  rec- 
ognized in  part  that  the  great  need  of  the  time  was  not  so  much 
the  acceptance  of  a  new  theological  system  as  the  perfection  and 
practise  of  a  social  discipline.  But  tbfgy  things  militate< 
his  success..  In  the  first  place  he  had  altogether  too 
an  idea  of  siiL  The  minute  and  rigid  regulations  —  over  two 
hundred  m  number  they  came  to  be  —  place  a  ban  upon  almost 
.  every  form  of  amusement.  In  the  second  place  his  jrocedur^ 
^pc  ciiri^pp  QtiH  riirtQfnn'al  in<^Aori  of  being  gradual  and  persua- 
sive. In  the  third  place  he  placed  far  too  slieht  a  relianry  ^ipnn 
the  individuality  of  the  Genevan  citizen:  he  was  not  content 


m 


THE  FRENCH  REVOLT  FROM  ROME  295 

iowly  to  develop  an  internal  moral  force,  but  sought  instead  to     ^J^* 

jjp»r»%!    werv  ;^rtinn    immpHiatply   hy   ^^f^rr.o1    rAcftr^Jr^^         .  

When  they  left  Geneva  the  two  preachers  went  to  Baser  andO***^^ 
ifterwards  parted  ways.     Farel,  who  was  then  almost  fifty  years 
rf  age,  went  to  Neuchatel  where  he  labored  for  yet  another  gen- 
eration.   Calvin,  who  was  not  yet  thirty  years  old,  continued  his  oaiTinat 
s^ork  in  Strasburg,  the  most  important  stronghold  of  the  Prot-  J^^^ 
estant  Revolution  in  south-western  Germany.    Among  the  men 
with  whom  he  was  associated  there  were  Martin  Bucer,  who 
proved  a  wise  councilor  and  a  kindly  companion,  the  conciliatory  €.#»r^  r^" 
Wolfgang  Capito,  and  Jacob  Sturm,  a  municipal  official  who  was         ^ 
an  influential  promoter  of  Protestantism  and  a  distinguished  edu- 
cational reformer.     Here,  too,  he  found  several  hundred  French 
refugees  who  elected  him  their  pastor.    Very  soon  he  had  a  well- 
organized  congregation  to  which  he  preached  four  times  each 
week.     His  salary  was  very  small,  and  oftentimes  he  suffered 
financial    distress.     His    activity    became    varied.     He    taught 
theol(^;y  in  the  public  schools,  took  part  in  religious  disputations, 
and  continued  his  work  as  an  author.     In  the  field  of  theological 
criticism  he  wrote  a  Commentary  on  the  Epistle  to  the  Romans. 
and  in  the  field  of  theology  itself  he  issued  in  1539  a  revised  and 
greatly  enlarged  edition  of  the  Institute,  which,  while  inferior 
to  the  final  edition  oi  1559  m  logical  arrangement,  reaches  the 
culmination  of  the  author's  doctrinal  system. 

The  Emperor  Charles  V  greatly  desired  religious  union,  if 
only  for  the  sake  of  making  possible  united  action  against  the 
Empire's  foes.  For  the  advancement  of  their  cherished  par-  omtriiiat 
ticularism  the  Catholics  and  the  various  Protestant  sects  had  J*?*5*'' 
not  scrupled  to  further  the  interests  of  the  enemies  of  Germany. 
So  conferences,  whose  object  it  was  to  effect  the  desired  re- 
ligious unity  were  held  at  various  times  in  various  places.  Early 
in  1539  Calvin,  in  an  unofficial  capacity,  attended  the  meeting  at 
Frankfort;  in  1540  he  went  to  the  meeting  at  Hagenau;  in  the 
same  year  he  was  sent  as  a  delegate  of  Strasburg  to  a  meeting 
of  the  Diet  at  Worms,  in  which  he  took  a  prominent  part,  and 
when  the  Diet  was  adjourned  to  Ratisbon  (Regensburg)  he  was 
again  an  active  participator.  Whatever  political  results  these 
conferences  may  have  had  they  all  failed  to  effect  a  religious 
reconciliation.  Calvin,  indeed,  seems  not  to  have  desired  a  re- 
union. Only  by  mutual  concession  could  a  reunion  have  been 
efifected,   and  t^  comprnTr|i«^|^  Palvin   wqq   rgnstitutionallv  oo- 


n  the  meantime  how  had  things  been  going  in  Geneva?  "Ap- 
parently the  moral  condition  of  the  city  was  much  the  same  as 


296  THE  PROTESTANT  REVOLUTION 


m 


1SS8-41 


when  Calvin  first  arrived  there.  But  the  two  opposing  patis 
remained  unreconciled.  In  the  struggle  the  Patriots  lost  grooni 
They  were  successful  only  while  protesting  against  the  uncUf 
rigorous  ordinances.  When  Calvin  was  driven  from  die  ci^ 
2«*^*a  their  activity  ceased.  Seemingly  they  had  no  constructive  pro- 
gram to  offer.    On  the  other  hand  Calvin's  supporters  were  am- 


i>f 


^*^^  y^T^  mated  and  unified  by  the  idea  of  r^enerating  humanity,  and 
tt  ^^m^n^  fK  ^^^^^  program  for  moral  purification  was  a  definite  one.  The 
l^j^  e:  Jl^dissensions  between  the  citizens  seemed  to  afford  a  favorable 
•  ^^^hance  to  win  back  the  city  to  the  ancient  faith.  So  in  1535,  at 
- 1  "  •**  the  suggestion  of  Pope  Paul  III,  Cardinal  Sadoleto,  bishop  of 
p  I  ▼  -^  ^^  Carpentras,  in  Dauphiny,  wrote  ^  ronq^]^a^ry  ifttpr^n  ffi#*  munici- 
fpal  authorities  and  the  citizens  appealing  to  them  to  return  to 
n^he  Mother  Church.  Sadoleto  yas  a  distinguished  humanist,  and 
j^liify<<  '^a  man  of  genial  disposition.  Jrrppmarhahlp  jn  his  own  life  he 
S  iiJAr  •         sincerely  desired  the  reform  of  the  abuses  of  the  Church  without 

changing  any  of  its  essential  creeds.  His  l^ft^r  wa.^  nrvU  hy  ^ 
Genevan  authorities  to  the  Bernese  officials  who^  in  turn,  ifit 
quested  Calvin  to  answer  it.  The  exiled  reformer  wrote  the 
most  eloquent  defense  of  the  entire  religious  revolt  that  had  yet 
been  made  or  that  was  destined  to  appear  for  a  long  time,  a 
dignified,  gentle  and  moderate  reply  that  pave  expression  to  tte 
feelings  of  Protestantism  and  doubtless  made  many  friends  for 
fts  author.  At  last  the  incessant  agitation  and  strife  in  Geneva 
resulted  in  the  victory  of  the  Calvinists;  and  then,  on  October 
22,  1540,  a  letter  was  despatched  requesting  Calvin  to  return. 
But  he  was  in  no  hurry  to  comply;  and  when  finally  he  con- 
sented he  insisted  upon  certain  conditions,  the  chief  of  which 
was  the  establishment  of  a  Consistory,  or  tribunal  Qf  mpr^ls. 
to  consist  of  pastors  and  elders,  that  should  have  supervision  of 
the  daily  lives  of  the  Genevese.  The  conditions  were  granted, 
and  on  September  13,  1541,  the  exile  reentered  Geneva  after 
an  absence  of  three  and  a  half  years. 

When  Geneva  abolished  the  dominion  of  its  duke  and  its  bishop 
it  did  not  establish  a  democracy,  but  instead  the  city  with  its 
adjacent  territory  was  ruled  by  an  oligarchy.  It  is  to  the  com- 
ponent parts  of  this  government  that  we  must  now  devote  our 
attention.  First  of  all  there  was  the  General  AssefQ{jlv.  which 
SS]^,rfiy  consisted  of  all  the  citizens,  that  is,  of  all  the  heads  of  families. 
It  was  supposed  to  meet  at  least  twice  eacji  year  to  conduct  busi- 
ness that  related  to  the  entire  community.  It  elected  the  four 
syndics,  the  treasurer,  the  secretary,  and  the  lieutenant  of  jus- 
tice, and  it  made  alliances  and  proclaimed  the  laws.  But  as  time 
went  on  the  General  Assembly  was  summoned  less  and  less  f  re- 


THE  FRENCH  REVOLT  FROM  ROME  297 

fuently,  and  most  of  the  powers  formerly  exercised  by  the  duke     ^j^' 

and  the  bishop  were  acquired  by  the  Little  Council  and  the      

Council  of  Two  Hundred.    The  syndics  were  the  administrative     ^^^^^ 
officials  of  the  city.    They  had  charge  of  the  most  important*  ^jfrjlx 
criminal  jurisdiction,  and  it  was  their  duty  to  see  that  order  pre--<^f     • . 
vailed  from  sunset  to  sunrise.    The  Little  Council  had  twenty-  ^^^^  Jju 
five  members  in  whose  election  the  people  had  scarcely  any  voice.  m/^^*^_£ 


The  syndics  and  the  treasurer  holding  office  and  the  syndics  of  .^,     / 
the  previous  year  were  always  entitled  to  membership.    The^*)       J^ 


other  members  were  chosen  by  the  Council  of  Two  Hundred; 
but  this  latter  council  was  itself  nominated  by  the  Little  Council.  i^^^H 
Thus  only  five  members  of  the  Little  Council  (the  syndics  "^^i  cijL<|f^^  ' 
the  treasurer  who  had  been  elected  that  year)  could  be  chosen  by  W 
the  people  in  any  one  year.  Yet  this  council  was  a  most  power- 
ful factor  in  the  Genevese  government.  It  was  the  supreme 
court,  and  it  was  an  inner  legislative  and  administrative  body. 
All  told,  it  exercised  a  wide  range  of  powers.  There  was  a 
Council  of  Sixty,  called  into  existence  to  decide  matters  too  im- 
portant for  the  Little  Council.  Its  members  were  elected  by  the 
Little  Council.  But  the  oligarchic  tendencies  of  the  Genevan 
government  soon  rendered  this  body  insignificant.  It  very  rarely 
took  action.  Finally  there  was  the  Council  of  Two  Hundred, 
established  in  1527,  whose  members  were  chosen  by  the  Little 
Council.  It  was  this  body  that  had  practically  arrogated  to  itself 
the  functions  of  the  otiose  Council  of  Sixty.  Such  was  the 
civil  polity,  the  aristocratic  government  of  Geneva,  with  which 
Calvin's  e^esiastical  polity  worked — ^"two  parts  of  one  ma- 
chine.'' 

The  i^flu<>nri>  of  Calyin  upon  the  civil  government  of  Geneva 
was  iinHpmnrratjf;     It  was  due  Seemingly  to  his  advice  that  the 
General  Assembly  of  the  citizens  was  stunmoned  as  infrequently 
as  possible.    And  it  was  doubtless  due  in  no  small  degree  to  his  Oai^tn 
personal  attitude  of  unfriendliness  that  the  mere  desire  to  call  a  SJiiaafk 
special  meeting  of  the  Assembly  was  regarded  as  an  indication  •maMnt 
of  treason.    He  greatly  curtailed  the  governing  power  of  the 
people  by  arranging  that  nothing  should  be  discussed  in  the 
General  Assembly  that  had  not  previously  been  considered  in  the 
Council  of  Two  Hundred,  that  nothing  should  be  discussed  in  the 
Council  of  Two  Hundred  that  had  not  already  been  debated  in 
the  Little  Council.    Thus  ^jli  tpjtclQfir%n  Vi^A  \f^  nrigin  m  tl|f 
r.ittjfi  Tnnnrjl^     Bftwff "  ^^^  ^  '*^*^W  ^oitn^'il  and  the  Consisto: 
there  was  a  most  intimate  connection,  and  tlie  dominating  in- 
fluence  in  the  Consistory  was  Calvin.    Thus  [ip  hyi>Tnf>  '*^^^ 
myingpringr  nf  tlyet  Oexxeve^fif^  TfP^Mr     He  set  all  its  wheels  io 


298  THE  PROTESTANT  REVOLUTION 


motion."    It  is  impossible  to  define  his  exact  political  positiofL. 
Nominally  he  held  no  p^^^'^^'^^^  nfflr^ ;  but  in^realit 
^**^'**    laws,  while  the  councils  confirmed  them  and  the  S3mdics  carried 
them  out. 

According  to  Calvin's  theory  the  church  was  made  up  of  all 
clergy  and  laity  who  agreed  upon  the  fundamental  articles  of 
CteiTin't      the  Calvinist  theology.    Church  and  State  each  was  to  be  su- 
^^^       preme  in  its  respective  sphere.    This  idea  of  ecclesiastical  inde- 
7/ -     pendence  was  inherited  from  the  Catholic  Church  which  had 
^  ^^^    often   fought  to  maintain  it    Luther  and  Melanchthon  con- 
"•^  •     sented  to  the  subjugation  of  the  church  to  the  civil  power;  and 
^^r>^^s  5"  England  the  monarch  was  at  the  head  of  the  Church  as  well 
\m^^i^f^  as  the  State.    Calvin  modified  the  Catholic  idea  by  giving  to  the 
^  •    JjU    laity  a  voice  in  the  government  of  the  church.    The  secular 
power  was  to  enforce  the  laws  and  doctrines  of  the  church.    In 
practice  the  government  of  the  Genevan  Church  was  vested  in 
the  Consistory  which  was  made  up  of  six  ministers  and  twelve 
lay  elders.    The  lay  members  of  this  powerful  court  were  all 
nominated  by  the  ministers.    Two  of  them  were  chosen  frcmi 
the  General  Assembly,  and  ten  from  the  Council  of  Two  Hun- 
dred.   For  their  services  they  were  paid  two  "  sols  '*  a  day  de- 
rived from  the  fines  which  they  imposed.    According  to  law 
one  of  the  syndics  should  have  presided  at  the  meetings,  which 
were  held  every  Thursday,  but  Calvin,  although  it  would  seem 
that  he  did  not  actually  usurp  the  office  of  president,  certainly 
exercised  the  preponderating  influence  until  the  end  of  his  life. 
It  was  the  establishment  of  this  institution  that  Calvin  had  made 
the  chief  condition  of  his  return  to  Geneva.     It  had  jurisdiction 
over  the  conduct  of  the  morals  and  the  belief  of  the  citizens 
of  the  town.     It  summoned  inhabitants  of  every  age  and  rank  to 
appear  before  it,  and  its  procedure  was  incredibly  minute.     It 
was  empowered  to  pronounce  the  extreme  ecclesiastical  penalty 
of  excommunication.     In  many  instances,  it  handed  the  accused 
persons  over  to  the  civil  authorities  for  punishment  by  fine,  im- 
prisonment, torture,  or  death.     Between   1542  and  1546  fifty- 
eight  persons  were  sentenced  to  death,  and  seventy-six  to  exile. 
'*  From  his  cradle  ^r^  hig  grave  ^^^  C,f^r\(-M(^^t^  riti'ypn  wag  pm*. 
siied''  bylTienn^nsistniy  with  ^*^<^  '*  tngniQitnrigl  ^y^"     Calvin's 
powerful  influence  was  exerted  in  behalf  of  an  increase  in  the 
penalties  and  an  unrelenting  and  pitiless  execution  of  the  laws. 
Having  seen  something  of  Calvin's  supervision  of  morals,  let 
OmiTin't      us  turn  to  his  theology ;  not  to  the  ideas  that  he  held  in  common 
Polm        ^^^^  contemporary  and  traditional  Christianity,  but  to  those  that 
are  distinctly  his  own.  (According  to  the  doctrine  of  justifica- 


-I 


THE  FRENCH  REVOLT  FROM  ROME  299 


theoloyv  begins  and  ends  with  the  ^tiprpm^ry  of  CK>d.  Before 
the  existence  of  time  God  arbitrarily  determined,  without  any 
reference  whatsoever  to  the  character  of  the  individual,  the 
eternal  fate  of  every  human  being.  Any  attempt  at  cooperation 
on  the  part  of  the  individual  is  fruitless.  Man  cannot  contribute 
to  his  own  salvation  even  in  the  slightest  degree.  "  Every- 
thing," said  Calvin,  "depends  upon  the  mere  will  of  God;  if 
some  are  damned  and  others  saved  it  is  because  God  has  created 
s<mie  for  death  and  others  for  life."  But  why,  it  might  be  asked, 
did  God  create  those  men  who  were  eternally  to  be  lost  ?  Calvin 
was  not  abashed.  He  did  not  recoil.  He  was  ready  with  an 
answer.  It  was  for  His  glorification.  Such  is  the  central  doc- 
trine of  Calvin's  theology.  How  did  so  terrible  a  belief  find 
such  ready  and  wide-spread  acceptance?  Did  it  come  as  a  con- 
solation to  those  who  had  left  the  ancient  fold?  Did  it  con- 
vince them,  this  doctrine  of  the  inefficacy  of  man's  works,  that 
the  ritual  they  had  abandoned  was  of  no  avail?  Nothing  clings 
to  men  so  persistently  as  the  things  intertwined  with  their  emo- 
tions. Long  after  the  intellect  has  declined  longer  to  subscribe 
to  a  creed  the  ritual  and  the  associations  of  the  abandoned 
church  appeal  with  almost  irresistible  force  to  the  emotions. 
Feelings  are  ever  more  conservative  than  intellectual  convic- 
tions. The  thing  that  is  reasonable  to  the  mind  is  often  treas- 
<Hiable  to  the  heart.  The  religion  which  the  first  Calvinists  had 
left  behind  was  one  whose  roots  were  entwined  with  the  very 
fiber  of  their  being.  It  possessed  the  most  stately  and  solemn 
ritual  known  to  history.  What  could  be  more  momentous  than 
the  words  of  consecration  pronounced  by  the  priest  over  the 
bread  and  wine  while  the  deep-toned  bells  announced  the  miracle, 
daily  renewed  in  the  remotest  village  as  well  as  in  the  capital  of 
Christendom,  to  the  listening  world  ?  Was  it  possible  that  some- 
times the  fear  crept  into  their  hearts  that  after  all  salvation 
might  depend  upon  the  sacraments  which  the  Church  they  had 


tkm  by  faith  alone,  man  is  impotent  to  contribute  to  his  own     ^x^* 

sahaticm.)  God  alone  can   save  him.    God  is  omniscient  and      

omnipotent.     Some  men  are  saved  and  others  are  lost.    It  must     i**!*** 
be,  then,  that  some  are  predestined  to  be  saved  and  others  to  be 
lost    God  must  have  known  and  ordained  their  fates  in  the  be- 
ginning.    But  Luther  did  not  pursue  his  doctrine  of  justification 
as  far  as  this.    In  his  eyes  the  church  had  still  a  part  to  play  in 
saving  the  souls  of  men  by  producing  in  their  hearts  the  indis- 
pensable faith  in  Christ.     Predestination  was  always  a  torment 
to  him.     He  shunned  it.    Not  so  with  Calvin.     Predestination 
is    his    pivotal    dogma.    He    faced    the    issue    squarely. 


THE  PROTESTANT  REVOLUTION 


renounced  alone  could  administer?  Then  was  it  not  widi  cofr 
solation  that  there  came  to  them  the  teaching  that  sslvatioa  ii 
to  be  found  only  in  the  hollow  of  God's  hand,  that  it  is  dii- 
pensed  without  reference  to  any  human  mediation,  and  that  it 
depends  entirely  upon  the  unsearchable  will  of  the  creator? 
With  this  belief  taken  to  their  breasts  no  evil  could  befall  them 
No  one  had  power  over  them,  not  even  their  persecutors,  for  iD 
thit^  had  been  determined  even  before  the  foundation  of  the 
[world. 

This  doctrine  of  predestination,  of  the  helplessness  of  mao, 
would  seem  to  lead  to  moral  paralysis,  for  it  leaves  to  the  Axi 
no  need  for  self-restraint,  and  to  the  reprobate  it  offers  ■» 
incentive  to  reform.  Yet  such  has  not  been  the  case.  Calvifr 
ism  does  not  appear  to  have  decreased  the  moral  vitality  of  an; 
nation  that  has  accepted  it.  This  result  is  difKcult  of  explana- 
tion. Perhaps  the  dogma  of  predestinaticm  was  never  really  ac- 
cepted by  the  mass  of  Calvinists  even  in  Calvin's  time.  It  wai 
the  theme  of  innumerable  polemical  discussions,  but  perhaps  for 
the  mass  of  men  it  had  never  more  than  an  academic  interest 
Perhaps  from  the  first  the  human  conscience,  always  a  better 
guide  than  logic,  revolted  against  the  idea  that  man  is  a  slave  be- 
fore God,  and  that  God  chooses  from  his  slaves  a  few  for  electioa 
and  delivers  the  majority  to  the  eternal  torments  of  helL  Men 
do  not  look  to  their  religious  leaders  for  a  systematic  tfae(d(^;ical 
I  system.     They  are  interested  not  so  much  in  theology  as  in  re- 

fi^t*^ '""  J,  ligion.  Their  deepest  need  is  an  inspiring  interpretation  of  the 
j^i/^y*-  aspirations  of  the  heart.  The  stem  morality  of  Calvinism  flowed 
A>/T^  from  Calvin's  character  and  not  from  his  theology.     Character 

ja4'"^'^       is  ever  more  potent  than  intellectual  power.     If  Calvinism  had 
'    h(»-^'  '*"  inherited   from  its  founder  only  a  well-articulated  theolc^cal 
system  it  would  have  sunk  from  view,  sooner  or  later,  in  "  the 
quicksands  of  doctrinal  dispute." 

In  less  than  two  years  after  Calvin  returned  to  Geneva  hos- 
tility to  his  rigorous  rule  began  to  make  itself  evident.  And, 
as  before,  the  opposition  included  varied  elements.  In  1546 
came  the  first  serious  clash.  Calvin  was  victorious,  but  for  the 
next  two  or  three  years  his  situation  was  precarious.  Among 
^  BaiMou^  those  who,  in  later  years,  opposed  Calvin  was  Jerome  Bolsec,  a 
4>hysician  who  came  to  Geneva  in  1551,  and,  by  his  ability,  leam- 
^  ing  and  character,  quickly  succeeded  in  winning  the  respect  of 
'  the  community.  He  soon  took  exception  to  the  doctrine  of  pre- 
destination. Calvin  evidently  desired  his  death,  for  a  letter 
^  written  by  him  and  his  colleagues  said :  "  It  is  our  wish  that 
our  Church  should  be  purged  of  this  pest  in  such  a  manner  that 


THE  FRENCH  REVOLT  FROM  ROME        301 


it  may  not,  by  being  driven  home,  become  injurious  to  our     ^J^' 

oeigfabors^"    But  in  the  end,  owing  to  the  councils  of  moderation      

from  Bern,  Bolsec  was  banished.  i»4i-w 

We  have  now  to  deal  with  the  chief  example  of  Calvin's  in- 
tolerance. Michael  Servetus  (i5ii?-53)  was  a  Spaniard,  who 
after  studying  law,  perhaps  in  Toulouse,  spent  some  years  in  8«r?ttu  >t^ 
Germany,  where  he  issued  two  heretical  books  on  the  Trinity.^*^  ^i\  ^ 
Fear  of  persecution  led  him  to  flee  the  country.  He  took  up  thecir  'Mti^ 
study  of  medicine  in  Paris  and  won  a  reputation  as  one  of  the^#^*^/^ 
best  physicians  in  France.  Gifted  with  a  highly  analytical  and^ff^^ 
keenly  observant  mind  he  discovered  the  pulmonary  circulation  ^^^jU^ 
of  the  blood  three-quarters  of  a  century  before  William  Hir  ij  ,^<i 
vcy.  He  went  to  live  with  the  archbishop  of  Vienne,  an  old  V\  \^,^^ 
pupil  of  his,  and  to  practise  his  profession  there.  There  his'T^^.  _  m 
heterodox  views  r^^rding  the  Trinity,  objectionable  to  Cathc 
and  Protestants  alike,  got  him  into  trouble.    His  manner. 


too^  was  not  likely  to  win  him  friends.  He  was  arrogant  and^'^f*'* 
Oontemptuous  of  those  who  differed  from  his  opinions.  Sin- 
cere in  his  conviction  that  his  beliefs  were  of  the  greatest  im- 
portance to  humanity,  he  continued  to  publish  them.  In  the 
coarse  of  the  discussions  that  ensued  Calvin  meanly  forwarded 
to  the  Catholic  Inquisition,  for  the  purpose  of  delivering  him 
to  death,  some  letters  that  the  accused  physician  had  sent  to  him 
in  confidence  and  under  the  seal  of  secrecy.  Servetus  was  im- 
prisoned, but  made  his  escape.  After  lingering  for  some  time 
in  France  he  set  out  for  Italy  by  way  of  Switzerland,  alone  and 
on  foot,  and  by  some  irony  of  fate  stopped  at  Geneva.  He 
reached  Geneva  on  a  Sunday  and  in  the  afternoon  he  went  to 
hear  Calvin  preach.  He  was  at  once  recognized  and  was  ar- 
rested, at  the  instance  of  Calvin,  before  the  service  began.  In 
prison  he  was  subjected  to  cruel  treatment;  and  he  was  denied 
the  benefit  of  counsel.  Calvin  appeared  against  him  in  the  court- 
room, displaying  great  eagerness  to  secure  his  conviction,  and 
from  the  pulpit  he  incited  the  people  against  him.  On  October 
^»  1553,  on  the  little  knoll  of  Champel,  just  outside  of  Geneva, 
the  lonely  heretic,  who  to  the  last  persisted  in  his  beliefs,  was 
Immed  to  death.  Servetus  was  merely  a  visitor  in  Geneva,  a 
wayfarer  who  had  stopped  for  a  time  on  his  way  from  France 
to  Italy.  His  religious  views  had  neither  been  printed  nor 
uttered  in  Genevan  territory.  The  Genevan  government,  there- 
fore, had  not  the  slightest  legal  justification  for  his  arrest,  im- 
prisonment, torture,  and  death.  Many  excuses  have  been 
offered  for  this  lamentable  deed.  It  is  said  that  fanaticism, 
devotion  to  one  idea  so  intense  as  to  lead  to  the  undervaluation 


302 


THE  PROTESTANT  REVOLUTION 


OHAP. 


1641.M 


OmMUo 


or  exclusion  of  all  others,  destroys  the  judgment.    But  Calvio 
was  not  a  fanatic.    He  was  a  constructive  statesman  alike  k 
the  field  of  religious  thought  and  in  that  of  social  organizatiofL 
He  was  by  no  means  absorbed  by  a  single  idea.    Then,  too,  his 
temperament  was  cold,  deliberate,  and  calculating.    His  emo- 
tions pulsated  but  feebly.    It  is  said,  again,  that  religious  perse- 
cution was  the  prevailing  temper  of  the  time,  that  *'  it  was  noC 
Calvin  who  burned  Servetus  but  the  whole  sixteenth  centuiy,'* 
and  that  every  other  religious  leader  of  the  day  would  have  com- 
mitted Servetus  to  the  flames  with  equal  readiness.     But  the 
idea  of  tolerance,  derived  neither  from  skepticism  nor  indiffer- 
ence but  based  upon  reason,  no  mere  hazy  presentiment  but  a 
systematic  vindication  of  complete  religious  liberty,  was  con* 
temporary  with  Calvin.    There  were  many  who  there  and  tficn 
raised  their  voices  in  protest  against  the  cruel  deed. 

Chief  of  those  who  spoke  at  this  time  in  behalf  of  tolerance 
was  Sebastian  Castellio  (1515-63),  a  scholar  of  deep  and  wide 
learning  who  had  come  to  Geneva  as  a  teacher.  He  wished  to 
enter  the  ministry,  but  to  the  proposed  change,  because  of  dif- 
ferences in  biblical  interpretaticm,  Calvin  objected.  CasteUio 
withdrew  from  Geneva  to  Basel,  and  when  in  1554  Calvin,  with 
the  aid  of  texts  taken  from  the  Bible,  made  a  defense  of  the 
execution  of  Servetus  in  particular  and  argued  for  the  suppres- 
sion of  heresy  in  general,  he  and  several  others  issued,  a  month 
later,  a  Treatise  on  H^eretigs.  signed  with  the  pen  name  of 
Martinus  Bellius,  and  addressed  to  the  laity  at  large.  It  con- 
tained a  wpII  rppgnnpr^  pl<>a  f^r  l^j^fflrf^i  ^nd  it  was  reinforced 
by  quotations  advocating  tolerance  from  a  score  of  writers 
among  whom  ^ere  Aupnisf^ine^  Chrysostom,  Jerome,  Luther, 
Erasmus,  and  Calvin. 

Erom  Geneva  the  teachings  of  Calvin  spread  to  France.  By 
a  coincidence  the  first  edition  of  the  Institute  appeared  in  1536 
the  very  year  of  the  death  of  Lefevre.  The  teaching  of  the 
most  venerable  of  all  the  reformers  of  Meaux,  ahhough  it  had 

eluded  the  doctrine  of  justification  by  faith  alone,  had  been 
hiefly  ethical.  Calvin's  book  gave  to  the  Protestantism  of  his 
native  land  an  articulated  creed.  In  accepting  this  dogmatic  sys- 
em  the  French  heretics  abandoned  the  most  essential  character- 
istics of  the  humanism  that  had  led  them  out  of  the  beaten  path 
of  orthodoxy,  for  they  had  surrendered  the  right  of  the  indi- 
vidual to  think  for  himself.  Thus  it  was  that  French  humanism 
and  heresy,  so  closely  interwoven  at  first,  parted  ways.  Com- 
pactness was  gained,  it  is  true,  but  only  at  the  price  of  freedom. 


THE  FRENCH  REVOLT  FROM  ROME  303 


In  1541  Gilvin  finished  a  French  translation  of  the  second  and     ^5^* 

greatly  enlarged  edition  of  the  Institute.     In  addition  to  this      

he  carried  on  a  tireless  correspondence  with  dissentients  in  ***^'^ 
France,  sustaining  the  weak,  encouraging  the  hesitating,  advis- 
ing organization,  and  becoming  definitely  recognized  as  their 
spiritual  leader.  The  knowledge  of  the  continued  spread  of 
heresy  made  the  French  government  more  energetically  repres- 
sive than  ever.  But,  as  we  have  seen,  the  increaseijSXfilitK^ 
5l3flasJ-  failed  to  effect  its  purpose,  and  on  the  aeath  of  that 
monarch  all  that  had  been  accomplished  was  the  driving  of 
heresy  below  the  surface  and'  the  ^|Fans^i*rring  ^f  i»q  hpa^gnar- 
ters  frotp  France  to  Geneva. 

All  the  circumstances  that  surrounded  Henry  II  when  he  suc- 
.'ccded  his  father  in  1547,  and  all  the  influences  brought  to  bear 
ipon  him,  made  for  still  more  rigorous  efforts  to  stamp  out  the 
•bnoxious  religious  views.    The  new  king  lacked  the  strength 

0  maintain  the  monarchy  at  the  height  to  which  it  had  attained, 
lowly  but  steadily  it  slipped  back  into  impotence.    Once  again 
le  great  feudal  families  raised  themselves  above  the  sovereign  ^^^i 
id  their  bitter  rivalry  overshadowed  all  the  land.    Henry  was  ttonin 

sickly  king.  He  knew  the  battlefield  only  by  hearsay,  and  ''*"•• 
e  seemed  to  be  inseparable  from  the  elderly  ladies  who  were 
is  mistresses.  The  task  of  extinguishing  heresy  was  not  an 
asy  one,  for  everywhere  the  new  opinions  had  been  conveyed 
p  and  down  the  rivers  and  highways  throughout  the  length  and 
readth  of  the  land,  but  it  was  taken  in  hand  with  grim  deter- 
lination.  In  the  first  year  of  the  new  reign  an  additional  court, 
le  notorious  Chambre  Ardente,  was  established  in  Paris  for 
ic  exclusive  purpose  ot  dealing  with  heretics.  In  two  years  it 
ad  condemned  some  two  hundred  people  to  death.    Suppressed 

1  1549,  because  of  the  jealousy  of  the  ecclesiastical  courts,  it 
ras  revived  in  1553  and  continued  its  ne/arious  work.  IT  must 
ot  be  thought  that  this  was  the  sole  tribunal  engaged  in  the 
rork  of  condemning  heretics  and  confiscating  their  property. 
^yovincial  parlfTP'^"^s  and  ecclesiastical  courts  were  equally  ac- 
ive.  In  the  face  of  this  pitiless  persecution  French  Protestant- 
an^did  not  waver,  but  took  up  the  wo^k  ^i  nrgamymj 
,£|uuxhfi&Il.which  for  almost  a  decade  had  been  suspended.  A 
church*'  was  made  up  of  a  body  of  worshipers,  a  preacher, 
nd  a  consistory  that  included  elders  and  deacons.  The  work 
[ten  consisted  in  the  giving  of  sermons  and  the  administering  of 
be  sacraments.  Before  1560  some  thirtv-six  churches  had  been 
^WP^^^^y  nrganiyoH  \r\  pr;inrp^  Others  had  been  partially  or- 


>■• 


304  THE  PROTESTANT  REVOLUTION 

^^^'     ganized,  and  many  pastors  had  come  from  Geneva.    Among  the 
——      earliest  and  most  important  of  these  churches  was  the  €mt  cstab* 
"*"•    lished  in  1555  at  Paris. 

Henry  realized  that  his  efforts  thus  far  had  been  in  vain. 
He  desired  to  introduce  the  Inquisition  into  France,  but  to  thii 
the  Parlement  of  Paris  refused  to  consent.    So  from  Compifegnc 
he  issued  another  edict  against  heresy  on  July  24,  1557,  that  was 
registered  by  the  pari^ent  DlA  lilOlllns  later,    ijui  torture  cham- 
ber and  stake  alike  failed  to  arrest  the  progress  of  religious 
dissent.    Heresy  not  only  continued  to  spread  amcHig  the  mid- 
dle classes  but  began  to  invade  the  upper  strata  of  society.    Late 
one  afternoon  in  May,  1558,  in  the  public  grounds  of  the  Univer- 
sity, known  as  the  Pre-aux-cleres,  a  favorite  promenade  of  the 
Parisians,  a  few  voices  began  to  sing  one  of  the  psalms  recently 
translated  into  French  by  Qement  Marot.    It  was  not  long  be- 
fore the  singers  were  joined  by  large  ntimbers  of  those  who 
were  taking  the  air  in  that  leafy  place  or  playing  games.    For 
several  successive  evenings  the  performance  was  repeated.    In- 
cluded among  the  recruits  to  the  chorus  were  such  important 
personages  as  Antoine  de  Bourbon,  who  next  to  Henry  II  and 
his  children  was  the  first  prince  of  the  blood ;  his  wife,  Jeanne 
d'Albret,  in  right  of  whom  he  was  the  titular  king  of  Navarre; 
his  youngest  brother,   Louis,   prince  of   Conde;   Gaspard  de 
Coligny,  admiral  of  France;  and  one  of  the  Coligny's  brothers, 
Francois  d'Andelot,  who  because  he  was  the  most  active  of  all 
the  converts  among  the  nobility  to  the  Huguenot  cause  was 
called  the  fearless  knight.    The  psalm-singing  was  stopped,  but 
not  before  the  spread  of  heresy  among  the  middle  and  upper 
classes  had  been  given  a  most  impressive  demonstration;  for, 
so  it  was  said,  five  or  six  thousand  had  taken  part  in  the  per- 
formances.   To  the  Huguenots  it  seemed  time  that  the  churches 
established  in  France  should  be  united  in  a  national  organization. 
So  on  May  26.   jgr^,   fhP  first  Prntegtanf  synn^  jn  Franrf  was 
held  in  Paris.     It  was  only  a  small  gathering,  and  it  was  con- 
ducted, perforce,  in  the  utmost  secrecy,  but  it  drew  up  a  confes- 
sion of  faith,  based  upon  Calvin's  theological  teaching,  if,  indeed, 
it  was  not  actually  written  by  him,  and  it  formulated  a  plan  of 
government.    To  the  king  the  situation  appeared  so  serious  that 
he  attended  a  meeting  of  the  Parlement  of  Paris,  a  most  un- 
usual thing  for  the  monarch  to  do,  in  which  the  entire  religious 
question  was  considered.     Several  speakers,  chief  of  whom  was 
Anne  du  Bourg,  expressed  their  disapproval  of  the  policy  of 
repression  that  was  being  employed  against  the  Protestants,  and 
this  so  enraged  the  king  that  he  commanded  the  arrest  of  four 


THE  FRENCH  REVOLT  FROM  ROME       305 


of  them,  including  Du  Bourg  whose  death  at  the  stake  he  swore 
to  witness.  Some  months  later  Du  Bourg  met  his  terrible  fate 
with  great  dignity^  and  Ms^dsath,  so  it  was  said,  "  madgjl^Qre 
converts  among  the  studentsthan  di^  jjl  ^^<*  ^^^If^  ^^  ralvm  " 
Hul  the  kSn^  had  not  lived  to  see  tiie  spectacle. 

On  July  10,  1559,  Henry  died  as  the  result  of  a  wound  acci- 
dentally given  in  a  tournament.  All  his  persecution  had  failed 
of  its  purpose.  It  had  not  only  left  the  religious  dissentients 
as  recalcitrant  as  ever  but  had  actually  stimulated  their  ardor 
and  their  zeal.  So  from  Geneva,  as  from  a  watch-tower,  Calvin 
saw  the  great  panorama  of  his  revolt  tmfold  itself  in  France. 
His  own  position,  after  the  burning  of  Servetus,  became  more 
firmly  established  than  before.  Hostility  to  his  strict  and  unre- 
lenting rule  broke  out  again,  as  we  have  seen,  in  less  than  two 
years  after  his  return  from  exile ;  but  the  uprising  of  the  Liber- 
tines was  crushed,  and  its  leaders,  their  property  confiscated, 
were  either  expelled  from  the  republic  or  beheaded. 

Not  a  little  of  the  success  of  Protestantism  in  France  was  due 
to  Thfodore  de  Beze  (1519-1605),  better  known  as  Beza,  the 
Latin  iorm  01  nis'HEi&me  that  he  occasionally  used,  who  in  the 
wide  range  of  his  experiences  excelled  any  other  leader  of  re- 
ligious revolution  in  the  sixteenth   century.    His  gentlemanly  ^ 
manners  helped  to  give  him  access  to  a  stratiun  of  society  un-  Bin  lA^^^ 
known  to  eitfier  Luther  or  Calvin ;  and  to  the  Catholic  aristocracjM^  //X#  >  ^ 
of  France  he  was  more  acceptable  than  any  other  Protestai^^^^[jgyilX<*<Xi 
propagandist.    There  is  not  space  at  our  disposal  to  dwell  upon  '^''  -  ^*    -'— 
his  life — his  work  as  a  teacher  at  Lausanne  and  Geneva,  his. 
fearless  activity  on  behalf  of  the  Huguenots  in  France,  his  par- 
ticipation in  the  Colloquy  of  Poissy  (which,  as  we  are  to  see  in  a 
later  jchapter,  failed  to  effect  a  reconciliation  between  the  mem- 
bers of  the  two  faiths  that  were  dividing  France  and  proved 
instead  to  be  the  parting  of  the  ways),  his  literary  activity,  and 
his  administrative  ability  as  the  successor  of  Calvin  whom  he 
survived  by  forty-one  years.    In  him  Protestantism  found  its 
ablest  representative  in  the  most  vigorous  moment  of  the  attack 
of  militant  Catholicism. 

Of  Calvin's  theology  we  have  spoken,  and  something  has  been 
said  of  the  details  of  his  supervision  of  personal  conduct.  In 
the  heart  of  every  inhabitant  of  his  city  he  endeavored  to  culti- 
vate a  stem  morality  similar  to  his  own.  Moral  self-control  and 
self-direction  was  the  deepest  need  of  the  time.  All  through  the 
medieval  centuries  the  religious  and  ethical  direction  of  the  in- 
dividual had  been  arrogated  to  himself  by  the  priest,  and  all 
political  direction  had  been  assumed  by  the  prince.    The  power 


THE  PROTESTANT  REVOLUTION 

of  self-direction  had  become  very  largely  atrophied.  When  tbe 
religious  revolution  threw  off  a  part  of  this  external  restraint  the 
power  to  direct  oneself  in  moral  matters  was  not  suddenly  r^ 
stored.  That  would  have  been  impossible.  A  long  period  of 
education  was  necessary  in  order  to  restore  the  enfeebled  wiH 
Paradoxical  as  it  may  seem,  it  was  this  education  that  Calvin 
endeavored  to  supply  by  means  of  the  galling  restrictions,  the 
savage  legislation,  that  he  imposed.  The  errors  of  his  policy 
have  already  been  intimated.    The  time  has  come  to  speak  of 

them  explicitly.      ralyjn'Q  Riipprvisinn  nf  tnpnV«^  Wyn  ^'^J  ^T  t^ 

distorted  an  idea  of  sin^  for  it  included  in  its  disapproval  actions 
that  were  by  no  means  detrimental  to  the  individual  or  to  society. 

It  was   Ri\mn^ary   and    HiVtatnrial   Iv^fh   in   its   spirit  and  its  ppi> 

pdure.  And  it  was  altogether  ^f^  ^^piP^O'i'^  ^"^  ^^'^  tniiit  flf  tff 
jj]|(jiyiHti;|,1.  In  SO  far  as  appetites  and  passions  are  concerned  Us 
ofOaMn '  policy  of  ruthlcss  repression  aided  men  to  form  habits  of  absti- 
policy  nence.  But  in  helping  to  establish  those  habits  it  did  nothing  to 
develop  the  power  of  self-control.  Such  a  power  can  be  dcvd- 
oped  only  in  the  presence  of  freedom  of  choice.  Self-control  is 
positive  in  its  character,  whereas  repression  is  merely  n^^ative. 
Self-control  requires  resolution  and  voluntary  effort  upon  the  part 
of  the  individual  to  shun  evil  and  accomplish  good;  and  these 
two  things  were  both  ignored  by  the  Calvinistic  supervision  of 
conduct.  It  has  been  claimed  that  this  repression,  exercised  in 
Geneva  and  elsewhere,  produced  a  sterling  character  in  those 
who  were  subjected  to  it.  But  the  repression  was  always  inci- 
•dental  to  the  character;  the  character  was  never  the  result  of 
the  repression.  Indeed,  the  reverse  of  this  claim  is  true.  The 
effect  of  the  narrow  and  inquisitorial  supervision  of  conduct  in- 
augurated by  Calvin  was  distinctly  detrimental  to  character.  It 
was  in  the  highest  degree  anti-educational.  It  broug^ht  abou^ 
the  decay  of  self-reliance.  It  served  not  only  to  aij^t  tly 
growth  of  the  facuHleiSj  It  starved  and  stunted  them,  doubtless  in 
many  cases  irretrievably.  It  proc^uced  pnides  :^nd  Pharisees,  not 
men.  Those  who  lived  under  it  and  remained  men  were  men  in 
spite  of  it.  The  one  touchstone  which  through  the  ages  has  sep- 
arated the  moral  from  the  immoral  life  is  the  freedom  and  the 
power  to  choose  the  good  in  preference  to  the  evil.  And  only 
where  "  the  winds  of  freedom  are  blowing "  can  such  a  power 
be  developed. 


CHAPTER  XVII 

REVOLT  IN  THE  NORTH  AND  HERESY  IN  THE  SOUTH 

1.  Protestantism  in  Scandinavia. 

2.  Protestantism  in  Prussia  and  Livonia. 

3.  Protestantism  in  Poland  and  Lithuania. 

4.  The  Religious  Movement  in  Italy. 

5.  The  Religious  Movement  in  Spain. 

6.  The  Religious  Movement  in  Portugal. 

7.  Why  Protestantism  Gained  no  Reid  Foothold  in  the  Romanic  Lands. 

THE  Scandinavian  lands  lagged  far  behind  the  other  coun-     ^S££' 
tries  of  western  Europe  in  civilization;  and  their  revolts      

from  Rome  were  not  occasioned  by  popular  uprisings  but  by     ^^I'-^s 
politics.    It  was  the  rulers  and  not  the  people  who  revolted. 
Yet  the  revolts  became  complete.    For  more  than  four  hundred 
years  Denmark,  Norway,  and  Sweden  had  existed  as  separate 
monarchies.    In  jjgg^they  were  brought  together  by  the  Union  Beandi- 
j%f  raltn^r-  hut  the  year  1523  witnessed  the  dissolution  of  the  J^^"" 
compact.    Qiristian  TT  (T^y-^-;2^)  was  the  last  king  of  the  three  JSSr*' 
turbulent  countries.    He  was  a  man  of  much  learning,  devotgd 


fn  till*  int^yes^s  of  the  people,  but  unstable  in  temper  and  un- 
trustworthy  in  character.  He  attempted  to  do  awav  with  a  num- 
ber  of  <^Hpgi;^ftir^1  ahi^gys.  and  he  had  two  Lutheran  preachers 
sent  from  Saxony.  His  plans  for  governmental  and  economic 
reforms  were  far-reaching  and  wisely  conceived.  He  was  dca^ 
tprmji]^ j  to  lessen  the  power  of  the  nobles  who  had  placed  many 

li'tnitatmriQ  iipr>n  ttip  Ifingrly  anthnrity^  anH  j;ft  inrrp^<ip  that  ni  t^p 

HirchPTf  ?n^  p^oe^r*^*!.  His  cruel  effort  to  repress  the  recal- 
citrant Swedes  ended  in  their  final  withdrawal  from  the  Union. 
Denmark  and  Norway  remained  united;  but  in  the  same  year 
that  Sweden  went  her  own  way  Christian  was  expelled  from  the 
southern  kingdom. 

Before  the   deposition  of   Christian,   humanism   had   begun 
slowly  to  penetrate  into  Denmark,    The  first  name  of  any  note 
connected  with  the  movement  in  that  country  is  that  of  Qijistiajn 
Pedersoiij  a  priest,  who,  after  becoming  a  Lutheran,  published  TheDan- 
m  1529  a  much  better  Danish  version  of  the  New  Testament  JJ^tiJom 
than  the  one  already  in  existence.    Another  humanist  was  ^faiiL^BM 
f1i<sf]l  who  desired  a  reformation  of  ecclesiastical  life  and  doc- 
trine without  a  separation  from  the  Catholic  Church.    He  trans- 

307 


3o8 


THE  PROTESTANT  REVOLUTION 


168S-69 


Lnther- 

anlBmin 

Norway 

and 

la&d. 


lated  some  of  Luther's  works  into  Danish  and  delighted  in  tiiOK 
of  Erasmus.  A  number  of  Danish  students  went  to  Wittoi- 
berg.  Among  them  were  QansT^yggn,  who  became  known  ai 
the  Danish  Luther,  and  JnrpMi  Jiadn^jj.  The  prince  who  no 
ceeded  Christian  II  was  the  Lutheran  duke  of  Schleswig-Hol- 
stein,  Frederic  I  (1523-33).  The  position  of  the  new  king  was 
so  difficult  that  at  his  election  he  felt  obliged  to  pledge  himself 
not  to  permit  the  teaching  or  the  preaching  of  heresy.  Des[rite 
this  oath,  however,  the  reign  of  Frederic  witnessed  the  revolt 
from  Rome  in  Denmark.  Lutheran  preachers,  including  Sadolin 
and  Tausen,  were  at  work  in  many  places.  In  1526  Frederic 
took  it  upon  himself  to  fill  the  vacant  archbishopric  of  Land 
and  to  take  the  confirmation  fees  that  had  formerly  been  paid 
to  the  pope.  This  revolutionary  act  was  approved  by  the  diet 
of  Odense  in  the  same  year;  and  in  the  following  year  when  the 
Catholic  prelates  protested  to  the  diet  against  the  preaching  of 
heresy  the  king  declined  to  proceed  against  the  propagandist!. 
Lutheranism,  left  unmolested,  made  rapid  progress.  After  the 
death  of  Frederic  there  was  a  disorderly  interregnum;  but  hn 
son  Christian  III  (1536-59)  succeeded  in  defeating  those  who 
opposed  his  succession.  In  the  first  year  of  his  reign  Christias 
stunmoned  a  national  assembly  at  Copenhagen.  This  body,  in 
which  the  nobles  were  the  most  active  participants,  decreed  the 
abolition  of  the  bishoprics  and  the  transference  of  all  ecclesi- 
astical property  to  the  crown.  PUFtiinhfiir"*"  ^^^^  came  from 
Saxony  jo  organize  the  Lutheran  church  in  Denmark.  Seven 
superintendents,  who  later  on  were  styled  bishops,  were  placed 
over  the  people  and  the  preachers,  an  ordinance  that  became  the 
fundamental  law  of  the  new  church  was  drawn  up,  a  liturgy 
was  compiled,  and  the  Augsburg  Confession  and  Luther's  Lesser 
Catechism  were  adopted. 

There  had  been  far  less  dissatisf^ftinn  with  ecclesiastical  af- 
fairs in  Norwav  and  Iceland  than  in  Denmark.  There  was, 
indeed,  in  those  countries,  no  popular  demand   for  a  change. 


"ri*  ^TV'et  Lutheran  preachers  were  sent  injto  Norway  with  letters  of 
f^'^'WlWFprotection  from  Frederic  I;  and  ecclesiastical  property  was 
^^i  ^,|(Leither  destroyed  or  systematically  confiscated  by  the  crown. 
ii-v^l^  Under  Christian  III  Norway  lost  its  position  as  a  joint  kingdom 

with  Denmark  and  became  a  mere  dependency  of  the  latter. 
Lutheranism,  much  to  the  social  detriment  of  the  people  for  some 
fifty  years,  was  forced  upoQ^the  country.  Even  more  arbitrary 
was  the  imposition  of  the  new  creeds  upon  Iceland  where  it 
required  years  of  repression  to  quell  the  opposition. 
The  establishment  of  Swedish  independence  had  been  prac- 


HERESY  IN  THE  NORTH  AND  SOUTH  309 


Bcally  the  work  of  one  man,  ^Gu§ta3CU&-A2^Ma    (1496-1560).     ^g* 

After  driving  out  the  Danes  he  was  elected  king.    It  was      

K   difficult   situation    that   confronted    him.    The    nobles    had  i^^^-^w* 
been  accustomed  to  a  large  degree  of   feudal  independence;  Th« 
die  peasants,  upon  whom  he  chiefly  relied  for  support,  were  by  JJJSif^ 
DO  means  easy  to  control;  and  from  one  end  to  the  other  the  from 
country  had  been  made  desolate  by  war.    In  his  sore  need  Gus-  ***"* 
tavus  turned  to  the  clergy  for  financial  help  and  a  long  series 
3f    bickerings    took    place.    During    these   years    Lutheranism 
spread  aoace  in  the  coimtry  so  that  when  the  diet  met  at 
Westeras  in  1527  other  things  than  money  matters  had  to  be 
discussed.    It  was  decreed  that  all  ecclesiastical  property  not 
ibsolutdy  needed  by  the  church  (and  of  the  necessity  the  king 
was  made  the  judge)  was  to  be  turned  over  to  the  crown ;  cer- 
tain church  lands  were  to  revert  to  their  former  owners,  others 
wrere  to  be  made  over  to  the  government;  and  provision  was 
made  for  a  future  settlement  of  doctrine.    Two  years  later  a 
synod  held  at  Orebro  provided  for  the  preaching  of  Lutheran- 
ism.   Oud>reaks   against    the    new    ecclesiastical    regime    were 
easily  crushed,  and  no  one  met  death  because  of  adherence  to 
the  old  religion;  the  kingly  power  was  greatly  increased;  and 
the  country,  because  of  the  development  of  its  mines  and  manu- 
factures, rapidly  became  wealthy  and  powerful.    The  Swedish 
rhurch  had  its  own  service-book,  hymn-book,  and  mass^book; 
md  it  had  twelve  bishops  and  one  archbishop. 

In  the  middle  of  the  twelfth  century  Finland  was  invaded  by 
Swedish  forces  but  it  was  a  long  time  before  the  conquest  was 
nade  complete.    Gradually  the  Swedish  civilization  was  intro- 
luced  into  the  country  and  the  Finlanders  were  granted  the  Oftthou- 
>ame  civil  rights  as  those  enjoyed  by  their  conquerors.     Gus-  piStSdtti 
avus  Vasa  was  quick  to  appreciate  the  secular  advantages  to  be  naiutd    r^ 
ierived  from  a  revolt  from  Rome.    He,  therefore,  put  into  force  i4^  <*^f^ 
n  Finland  a  religious  policy  parallel  to  the  one  he  had  carried  J-C^^^^J**^ 
)ut  in  Sweden.    His  designs  were  furthered  by  the  fact  that  for  ^^f?^  A 
iome  years  the  coimtry  had  been  without  a  bishop  duly  recog-  ^3^  O"^^ 
lized  and  confirmed  in  office.    The  first  tpan  |^  pfeyh   tVjp     • 
Protestant  doctrines  in  Finland  was  Peter  Sarkilaks  who  had 
iscened  to  tne  teachings  of  Luther  and^Meianchinon  at  Witten- 
lerg.    Little  is  known  about  this  man   who,  disappearing  as 
uddenly  as  he  had  come,  left  behind  him  a  great  reputation  as  a 
ireacher.    HU  ^^^rk  was  continued  bv^ichael  Ayricola  (1510?- 
17)  whom  he  had  won  over  to  the  new  ideas  and  who  went  to 
Vittenberg  to  conclude  his  studies.    The  mass  of  the  Finnish 
«ople  were  still  half  heathen ;  and  what  appealed  to  them  most 


3IO  THE  PROTESTANT  REVOLUTION 

^g^'     in    Christianity   was   probably  the   impressive   ceremonial  of 

Catholicism.    Only  a  few  of  the  better  educated  of  the  clcrgf 

1496-1660  ^gj.g  jjj  ^  position  to  weigh  the  conflicting  ideas.  It  was  oo^ 
gradually,  therefore,  that  the  new  doctrines  made  their  way. 
Gustavus,  without  pronouncing  definitely  upon  the  doctrinal  de- 
putes of  the  time,  commanded  the  Finnish  clergy  in  genenl 
terms  to  work  along  evangelical  lines.  Gradually  both  doctrine 
and  ceremony  were  modified.  The  economic  position  of  tk 
Catholic  church  was  attacked  with  greater  decision.  Hosdk 
measures  ruined  the  monasteries  whose  revenues  were  then  d^ 
voted  to  secular  purposes.  During  the  progress  of  disendow- 
ment  the  king's  appetite  for  ecclesiastical  property  devdkiped. 
The  inferior  clergy  were  taxed,  a  portion  of  the  property  set 
apart  for  their  maintenance  was  confiscated,  and  die  churches 
were  plundered  of  their  ornaments  and  valuables.  This  led  to 
robbery  of  the  Church  by  private  individuals.  The  suppresskn 
of  the  monastery  schools  left  education  in  a  deplorable  condi- 
tion. When  Agricola  returned  from  Saxony  he  was  made  ^e^ 
tor  of  the  school  at  Obo ;  and  later  on,  when  the  single  Fimddi 
bishopric  was  divided,  he  was  made  one  of  the  two  bishops  of 
his  country.  He  was  a  great  pioneer  in  religious  and  secular  in- 
struction. Among  other  works,  he  translated  Luther's  Lesser 
Catechism  and  the  New  Testament  and  portions  of  the  Old  Tes- 
tament into  his  native  tongue,  in  all  of  which  he  maintained  a 
moderate  position.  His  writings  formed  the  nucleus  of  a  na- 
tional literature;  and  his  name  is  a  glorious  one  in  the  history 
of  Finnish  culture. 

The  German  knights  of  St.  Mary,  better  known  as  the  Teutonic 

ProtcB-        Knights,  entered  Prussia  in  1231,  and  devoted  themselves  to  tiic 

?nSSi|^*^°"^"^st  of  the  heathen  peoples  on  the  shores  of  the  Baltic. 

Jt r, iff dULrli^ """"*'  after  the  next  century  opened  all  their  activities  were  con- 

^fkjf-^  t^    ^"^^  ^^  these  lands.    And  gradually  the  aims  of  the  Order  be- 

fc]  Jy,       w     came  political  rather  than  religious.     For  a  time  the  knights 

were  very  successful,  but  when  their  neighbors,  Poland  and 
Lithuania,  were  united  in  1387  their  power  began  to  decline. 
In  their  semi-ecclesiastical  state  the  relations  *  of  Church  and 
State  were  unusually  close  and  complex ;  but  that  did  not  prevent 
.  *   ^  the  early  introduction  of  Lutheran  ideas,  especially  in  the  cities. 

iV'  For   the   purpose   of    strengthening   itself   against    Poland   the 

.i*r.    •  '    V  ,    Order,  in  1511,  made  Albert  of  Brandenburg  its  grand-master; 
-       but  in  spite  of  that  Poland  succeeded  in  conquering  West  Prus- 
sia.   Albert  had  looked  for  aid  from  the  house  of  Hapsburg 
and  when  this   failed  him  he  renounced  his  allegiance  to  the 
Church   as   well   as    to   the   Empire.    In    1525    he   became   a 


HERESY  IN  THE  NORTH  AND  SOUTH  311- 

Lutheran,  secularized  the  Ordersland,  and  changed  his  title  of     ^xm 

master  to  that  of  duke.    When  he  had  thus  converted  Prussia      

into  an  hereditary  principality  he  held  it  as  a  fief  from  Poland,  i^^*-** 
A  Lutheran  church  was  then  established  in  the  duchy.  The  re- 
cently opened  University  of  Konigsberg  became  a  center  of 
Lutheranism  and  from  its  printing  press  there  issued  many 
pamphlets  for  the  persecuted  Protestants  in  Poland.  In  1549 
Albert  brought  into  his  duchy  Osiandef.  whose  he^erndg^ 
Lutheran  doctrine  we  shall  notice  in  the  next  chapter,  much  to 
the  anger  of  his  orthodox  Lutheran  subjects.  The  nobles,  who 
were  disaflFected  by  the  encroachment  of  the  ducal  power,  seized 
the  opportunity  to  fan  the  flames  of  discontent.  Osiander  died 
in  1552,  but  a  still  more  serious  outbreak  occurred  in  1566 
against  John  Funck,  his  associate,  who  was  publicly  put  to  death 
at  Konigsberg.  A  strictly  orthodox  Lutheran  belief  was  then 
made  imperative  for  every  office-holder,  ecclesiastical  or  secular, 
in  the  duchy,  and  the  nobles  recovered  their  privileges.  So 
bitter  was  the  struggle  among  the  Lutherans  that  when  Albert 
died  in  1568  there  spread  abroad  the  rumor  that  he  had  become 
reconciled  to  the  faith  of  his  fathers. 

At  the  opening  of  the  thirteenth  century  Christianity  was 
being  ruthlessly  forced  upon  the  heathen  of  Livonia  by  the 
Brothers  of  the  Sword.  At  the  end  of  the  fifteenth  century 
the  master  of  the  Order,  Y^al^er  von  Plettenber^.  had  won  for 
himself  a  position  of  great  importance,  and  in  1527  Charles  V 
recognized  him  as  a  prince  of  the  empire.  Despite  this  action 
the  emperor  neglected  the  imperial  interests  in  the  Slavonic 
provinces  of  the  Baltic  and  so  eventually  Livonia,  after  being 
held  by  Poland  and  then  by  Sweden,  was  incorporated  into  the 
expanding  domains  of  Russia.  The  country  was  divided  in  1550 
between  Russia  and  Poland.  Eleven  years  later  the  grand- 
master, Kettler,  embraced  Lutheranism  and  from  that  time  on 
his  domain  was  confined  to  the  duchy  of  Courland.  For  some 
forty  years  before  the  grand-master  formally  adopted  Protest-  protM- 
antism  the  doctrines  of  the  Saxon  friar  had  been  making  head-  ^J^S** 
way  in  Livonia.    The  clergy  were  corrupt  there  as  elsewhere; 


and  large  numbers  of  Livonians  after  attending  German  schools  £L  f\ 
scattered   the   seeds   of   criticism    in   their   native    land.    The  ^ 
r^rotestant  ideas   found  a  fruitful  soil  in  this  northern  land, 
especially  in  Riga,  the  capital  of  the  country,  which  signed  the  ^^Wy^ 
Augsburg  Confession  as  early  as  1530.     But  iconoclastic  raids  t^PS^^"^ 
by  "the  sovereign  rabble"  marked  the  course  of  the  Livonian 
ecclesiastical  revolt;  and  the  movement,  becoming  involved  in 
the  complicated  political  troubles  of  the  country,  lost  almost  all 


31^ 


THE  PROTESTANT  REVOLUTION 


1699-1600 


Protti- 
tmtlmi  In 
Polftnd 


Idthnftnift 


^^^^^'  traces  of  the  religious  spirit  with  which  it  had  once  been  stance! 
Finally  Livonia  was  absorbed  by  Russia ;  and  Esthonia,  and,  later 
on,  Courland,  into  both  of  which  Lutheranism  had  found  iti 
way,  went  with  it. 

When  Poland  and  Lithuania  were  dynastically  united  in  1386 
they  made  a  new  power  of  the  first  rank.  It  was  a  wild  land  in 
which  the  burghers  had  few  rights  and  the  peasants  none  at  all, 
and  in  which  the  nobles  gradually  gained  so  many  privileges  as 
to  become  a  lawless  and  turbulent  oligarchy.  Ecclesiastical 
abuses  similar  to  those  existing  elsewhere  prevailed  in  the  dual 
kingdom.  The  clergy  were  ignorant  and  corrupt,  the  bishops 
amassed  enormous  wealth,  efforts  were  made  to  reserve  tbe 
episcopal  positions  exclusively  for  nobles,  and  the  financial  exac- 
tions of  the  clergy  and  their  exemption  alike  from  governmental 
burdens  and  governmental  control  were  most  galling.  Discop* 
tent  helpe^  tn  gpr^ad  the  dy^^Hyipl  Hfflf^  ^^  ^|)«  and  his  fol- 
lowers m  these  Slavic  lands  throughout  the  fifteenth  century. 
And  after  the  Lutheran  move^fn^  ff^^  ^^^^a^^  ^,^y  :«^  SlTfiry  ^ 
was  not  long  before  it  spread  to  Poland  and  became  perma- 
nently entrenched  in  Polish  Russia.  It  was  not  only  orthodox 
Lutheran  views  that  invaded  the  two  countries;  more  radical 
opinions  made  their  appearance.  Under  the  patronage  of  Queen 
^^^A^"  •!  Bona  Sforza  a  humanist  society  was  formed  at  Cracow  of  which 
Mi-^k^  ^»       Francis  Lismanini  was  the  leading  spirit,  and  from  which  there 

radiated  Anti-Trinitarian  doctrines.  In  1548  the  ranks  of  the 
religious  dissenters  in  Poland  were  considerably  augmented  by 
the  coming  of  the  Bohemian  Brethren,  or  Moravian  Brethren 
or,  as  they  preferred  to  call  themselves,  the  Communion  oL 
Brethren,  a  sect  holding  radical  Hussite  views,  that  had  been 
expelled"  from  Bohemia.  They  placed  chief  stress  upon  con- 
duct rather  than  upon  creed  and  made  a  notable  effort  to  revive 
the  life  of  primitive  Christianity.  It  is  true  that  they  sojourned 
in  Poland  only  for  a  time,  going  on  into  Saxony;  but  in  their 
wake  they  left  many  converts.  The  spread  of  religious  dissent 
naturally  met  with  opposition;  but  owing  to  the  decentralized 
government,  described  in  a  later  chapter  devoted  to  the  Magyar 
and  the  Slav,  little  could  be  done.  The  diet  of  1552  granted  to 
the  clergy  the  right  to  judge  heresy  but  withheld  from  them  all 
power  to  punish  it  with  any  other  than  an  ecclesiastical  penalty. 
Four  years  later  the  diet  gave  permission  to  every  nobleman  to 
adopt  in  his  own  house  the  form  of  worship  he  desired,  pro- 
vided it  conformed  to  the  Bible.  Protestantism  had  now  reached 
its  apogee  in  Poland.  The  reformers  were  divided  among  them- 
selves.    The  Lutherans,  Calvinists  and  the  members  of  the  van- 


HERESY  IN  THE  NORTH  AND  SOUTH  313 


sects,  by  no  means  dwelt  in  harmony  with  each  other.    It     ^^vn' 

hoped  that  Jan  Laski,  sometimes  known  as  John  i  Lasco,      

lid  be  able  to  unite  the  different  factions  into  a  national  i****!*** 
rch.     He  was  a  Polish  noble  who  had  studied  abroad,  made 
acquaintance  of  Erasmus  and  other  humanists,  left  the  an- 
ral  church,  and  made  a  name  for  himself  as  the  head  of  the 
gr^[ation  of  foreign  refugees  in  London.    But  he  died  with- 

having  effected  the  desired  conciliation.    The  dissensions 
>T\g  the  Protestants  continued  and  all  hope  of  their  union 
1  away  when  Fausto  Socini,  whose  work  we  are  to  consider 
r  on,  gave  to  the  Anti-Trinitarians  a  definite  organization. 
Protestantism  gained  but  a  slight  foothold  in  the  Medito^    " 
ean  lands.    The  ]t,^1ian<t  have  always  been  addict^yi  to  the  xtaiyaad 
servation  of  institutions  and  customs  that  have  long  been  ^i/^ 
>tiea  ot  real  signiticance.     Unlike  other  nations  they  have 
er   attempted  a   sweeping  removal  of  the   vestiges   of  an 
lent    r^;ime.    But   aside    from    this    fundamental  fact   the 
>acy  was  more  strongly  entrenched  in  Italy  than  elsewhere 
ause  it  aroused  no  national  animosity,  but,  on  the  contrary, 
i  predominantly  an  Italian  institution,  flattering  the  vanity  of 
ny   Italians  and  adding  to  their  material  prosperity.    The 
lian  character  of  the  Papacy  was  a  source  of  weakness  in  all 

countries  that  lie  north  and  west  of  the  Alps,  but  in  Italy 
M^as  a  source  of  strength.  It  was  not  without  pride  that  the 
lian  realized  that  the  presence  of  the  Papacy  in  Rome  made 

most  important  city  of  his  country  the  capital  of  Christen* 
n,  and  the  inniunerable  and  tangible  material  advantages  that 
ahed  from  the  residence  of  the  popes  in  Rome  were  also  the 
irce  of  no  small  degree  of  satisfaction.  The  gsofiiaLiotfiCfiat 
his  country,  the  Italian  concluded,  lay  not  in  the  destruction 

!n  Italy  the  revival  of  the  individual  had  been  inaugurated 
i  carried  to  its  greatest  extreme.  Now  individuality  nat- 
illy  makes  for  the  dissolution  of  dogma  and  ecclesiastical 
Jiority.  Opposition  to  the  Papacy  was  impeded  in  Italy  by  Th« 
I  forces  and  the  facts  we  have  just  noticed,  but  the  creeds  of  Jjj^ 
t  Church  evaporated  in  the  atmosphere  of  the  Renaissance, 
the  presence  of  the  unrestricted  liberty  of  the  individual. 
idcr  tiie  disguise  of  outward  conformity  the  most  heterodox 
nions  freely  circulated  among  the  various  groups  of  scholars 
and  down  the  peninsula.  All  varieties  of  thought  were 
crated  as  long  as  their  outward  expression  wag  i\^^  ^f^  I'nHLQ- 
«i;  ana  tms  tolerance,  or  rather  indifference,  continued  until 
rttiurch  parted  company  with  the  Renaissance  movement  and 


^ 


3H 


THE  PROTESTANT  REVOLUTION 


OHAP. 


1876-1600 


Trend 
Toward 
Batioiialr 
Um 


perfected  its  machinery  of  repression.  Under  the  cloak  of  an 
easy-going  participation  in  the  ceremonies  of  the  Church  there 
spre^^  ^^iroi^ghnut  Italy  a  new  paganism.  This  paganism,  as 
we  have  seen,  was  due  m  part  to  the  revival  of  Greek  and  Latin 
culture,  but  it  was  also,  in  a  much  larger  degree,  an  indigenous 
growth,  an  exhalation  of  the  Italian  soil.  The  most  famous 
exemplar  of  this  paganism  in  its  relation  to  the  religious  side  of 
the  life  of  the  time  is  Pietro  Bembo  (1470-1547),  secretary  of 
Leo  X,  who  was  subsequently  made  a  cardinal  by  Paul  III,  and 
who  is  said  to  have  advised  Sadoleto  not  to  read  the  Pauline 
epistles  because  of  the  possibly  unfavorable  effect  upon  his  style 
of  their  unclassical  Greek.  It  was  not  only  the  V^sH^SSI^JtO^ 
the  art  of  the  time  that  was  Hpppjy  mlnrpH  yitVi  payrat^jpip  but 
also  i?^hilosophy  and  religious  thougfat.  T^he  paganism  of  the 
Renaissance  has  been  decried  as  a  thing  wholly  undesirable. 
Such,  however,  was  not  the  case.  By  no  means  can  the  vices 
of  the  Italians  be  ascribed  entirely  to  their  paganism;  while,  on 
the  other  hand,  certain  merits  resulted  from  their  absorbing 
interest  in  the  affairs  of  the  world  about  them.  For  one  thing 
the  frank  naturalism  of  the  humanists  acted  as  a  solvent  of  the 
ascetic  ideal  of  life,  and  eventually  there  was  formed  an  edective 
ideal  that  includes  the  best  of  both  the  ideals  that  clashed  in  the 
sixteenth  century-. 

Side  by  side  with  the  tendency  toward  paganism  there  was  a 
trend  toward  rationalism,  stimulated  first  by  the  writings  of 
Arabic  thinkers,  particularly  those  of  Averroes.  and  later  by 
the  recovered  remains  of  Greek  and  Latin  thought.  In  the 
Italian  universities,  where  theology  had  virtually  been  replaced 
by  philosophy  and  science,  especially  in  Padua,  there  existed  a 
freedom  of  thought  that  elsewhere  would  have  been  sought  in 
vain.  The  revival  of  the  learning  of  antiquity  was  bound  to 
result  in  bold  flights  and  daring  syntheses  of  the  individual  mind. 
The  classical  point  of  view  was  that  of  the  rational  faculty ;  its 
conceptions  and  its  ideals  were  the  result  of  the  reasoning 
process.  Reason  alone  guided  the  classical  man,  rendered  him 
self-reliant  and  made  him  self-sufficient.  From  the  time  of 
Lorenzo  Valla  the  batteries  of  criticism  were  leveled  against 
medieval  orthodoxy ;  and  so  bold  did  rationalism  become  that  its 
most  extreme  exponents  did  not  hesitate  to  call  into  question 
the  immaterial  nature  of  the  human  soul.  The  most  noted  of 
these  bold  thinkers  who  insisted  upon  the  right  and  the  power 
of  the  human  reason  to  search  out  for  itself  the  truths  of  philoso* 
phy  and  religion  was  Pietro  Pomponazzi  (1462-1525)  who  was 
a  professor  of  philosophy  in  the  University  of  Padua  and  later 


HERESY  IN  THE  NORTH  AND  SOUTH  315 

in  that  of  Bologna.    He  was  a  cold  and  unimpassioned  thinker  ^^vn' 

into  the  fiber  of  whose  being  was  interwoven  an  irresistible      

tendency  to  doubt.    His  chief  merit  is  his  noble  advocacy  of  a  i*^*-i*^ 
pure  and  unselfish  morality ;  a  morality  that,  seeking  no  external 

rewards,   is  rnntent  in  arrppt   virtue  as   ifg   own   rpwarH   anH   t^ 

j;<^  in  t}]e  results  ^f  viVe  tt*i  nv""  p"nigV^tTianf  xhe  morality  of 
a  people  is  always  closely  related  to  its  religion.  In  an  age 
when  men  were  becoming  increasingly  unwilling  to  accept  the 
ecclesiastical  sanctions  upon  which  morality  had  hitherto  been 
based  this  promulgation  of  the  permanent  and  unchanging  laws 
of  morality  was  of  the  greatest  value.  In  15 16  Pomponazzi 
published  his  treatise  De  Immortalitate  Animae  in  which  he 
denied  the  Christian  doctrine  of  immortality.  Such  opinions 
were  widely  disseminated.  Yet  they  were  opposed  with  energy. 
To  Christianity  in  its  true  sense,  as  embodied  in  the  words  and 
life  of  its  founder,  rationalism  was  by  no  means  antagonistic. 
Only  a  small  minority  of  the  rationalists  of  the  Renaissance 
dreamed  of  denying  the  essentials  of  Christianity.  It  was 
merely  to  superfluous  dogmas  that  they  refused  to  subscribe. 
Rationalism,  whenever  it  pays  due  regard  to  the  instincts  and 
emotions,  results  not  in  the  disintegration  of  the  religious 
faculty,  but  in  its  increase  and  purification.  Machiavelli's  state- 
ment that  all  Italians  of  this  time  were  super-eminently  irre- 
ligious is  incorrect.  The  growing  disbelief  in  the  long-estab- 
lished creeds  did  not  leave  the  cultured  Italians  devoid  of  all 
religion.  Their  foregone  faiths  were  replaced  in  many  instances 
by  an  increased  devotion  to  the  one  Supreme  Being,  a  devotion 
that  led,  as  we  shall  see,  to  Anti-Trinitarianism.  The  new 
thought  to  which  the  Renaissance  had  given  rise  was  making 
itself  felt  not  only  in  the  fields  of  politics  and  science,  but  also 
in  those  of  philosophy  and  religion.  But  it  made  itself  felt 
among  the  Italian  scholars  in  a  way  quite  different  to  its  mani- 
festation amid  the  peoples  of  the  cismontane  countries.  The 
Italians  lack  the  gloomy  fanaticism  of  the  Spaniards,  the  pre- 
dilection to  dogma  of  the  Germans,  the  fatal  scholastic  logic 
of  the  French,  and  the  readiness  to  establish  a  public  compro- 
mise that  characterizes  the  English.  The  cismontane  saw  the 
Church  only  from  afar.  The  thing  that  impressed  him  most 
forcibly  was  her  immutable  dogma  for  which  she  made  the  high 
claim  of  infallibility.  He  was  not  near  enough  to  hear  the  hu- 
man accents  of  the  papal  voice.  When  he  left  the  ancestral 
Church  he  hastened  to  found  a  new  one,  for  he  was  unprepared 
for  the  solitude  of  free  thought.  He  was  too  timid  to  strike 
boldly  at  the  supernatural  and  set  up  reason  as  the  sovereign  / 


3i6 


THE  PROTESTANT  REVOLUTION 


ThaOr* 
tbodozy 
of  the 
Lower 
OlMsra 


^^^f^'     guide  of  his  body  and  his  soul.    He  did  not  dare  to  leave  Ac 

accepted  circle  of  Christianity.    So  his  revolts  took  the  fonn 

1170-1600  Qf  schisms  or  heresies.  Not  so  the  Italian.  He  knew  tiiat 
the  Papacy  was  in  no  small  degree  his  own  production,  the  con- 
tinuous creation  of  the  Italian  genius.  In  the  voice  of  the 
Vicar  of  Christ  he  heard  the  passions  of  humanity ;  and  widiin 
the  sacred  precincts  of  the  sanctuary  he  saw  the  stirring  of 
earthly  interests.  The  weaknesses  as  well  as  the  virtues  of  his 
teachers  had  always  been  known  to  him,  and  he  had  not  been 
found  unsympathetic.  All  that  did  not  approve  itself  to  his 
clear  brain  he  nevertheless  accepted  as  being  merely  symbolical 
Dante  may  be  regaf<j^H  as  s^  perfect  example  of  the  consc^qKX  "^ 
the  educated  Italian.  He  was  an  implacable  enemy  of  popes  bat 
not  oi  tne  rapacy.  He  harbored  no  thought  of  heresy  and  enter- 
tained no  dream  of  division.  Yet  he  interpreted  the  dogmas  of 
the  Church  to  suit  his  views.  He  toned  down  their  desolating 
severity.  Nowhere  did  he  consign  to  hell  the  Christians  who  had 
lived  without  the  pale  of  the  sacramental  practices ;  while  on  At 
other  hand  he  placed  Averroes,  Plato,  and  Saladin  in  a  r^;ion  of 
semi-beatitude,  made  Cato  the  guardian  of  purgatory,  and  installed 
the  Emperor  Trajan  in  paradise.  Everywhere  his  great  poem  is 
pervaded  with  a  religion  that  is  Franciscan  in  its  tenderness  and 
in  its  hope.  So  for  the  majority  of  Italian  thinkers  the  mantle 
of  the  traditional  faith  never  became  too  heavy  to  wear ;  and  for 
the  small  minority  who  could  no  longer  wear  it  a  far  bolder  separa- 
tion than  the  various  revolts  in  the  countries  north  of  the  moan- 
tains  was  the  one  way  of  life. 

i^mnngr  fhe  \c}y^ej  classes  of  the  peninsula  orthodoxv  was  firmly 
establish^(|.  In  the  northern  countries  Christianity  had  displaced 
the  heathenism  of  the  barbarians ;  but  in  the  southern  peninsula 
Christianity  had  gradually  been  blended  with  the  ancient  paganism 
of  the  peasants.  The  old  deities  were  never  quite  supplanted  in 
Italy.  There  still  continued  to  be  paid  to  them  a  popular  cultus. 
The  soft  and  mellow  religion  that  resulted  from  the  interweav- 
ing of  the  ancient  and  medieval  faiths  permeated  the  life  of  the 
masses  of  the  people.  It  formed  the  basis  of  secular  passions 
and  of  secular  art.  It  still  speaks  to  us  through  the  life  of  St 
Francis,  the  poetry  of  Dante,  and  the  sculpture  and  the  sculptur- 
esque painting  of  Michelangelo.  Few  there  were  among  the 
Italians  who  had  not  a  relative  in  the  priesthood.  They  feared 
the  hierarchy  no  whit.  Their  Catholicism  was  their  own,  per* 
meated  with  the  tenderness  of  the  most  lovable  of  all  the  saints, 
ajippalinp  in  the  hpart  more  than  to  the  min^.  knit  completely 
mto  the  fiber  of  their  national  life,  expressed  in  the  splendid 


HERESY  IN  THE  NORTH  AND  SOUTH 


317 


ceremonials  so  indispensable  to  the  southern  imagination.     So 
they  made  no  effort  to  rend  the  "  seamless  coat." 

In  the  years  1512-17  the  Fifth  Lateran  Council  held  its  twelve 
sittings.  It  was  never  regarded  by  the  cismontane  countries 
as  being  an  oecumenical  body  because  it  was  comprised  ex- 
clusively of  Italian  prelates.  It  displayed  a  good  intention  to 
effect  reform  and  passed  a  ntmiber  of  measures  to  that  end ;  but 
as  far  as  the  general  Church  was  concerned  it  came  to  naught. 
Leo  X  continued  to  neglect  the  well-being  of  Christendom  in  his 
patronage  of  art  and  pursuit  of  the  political  interests  of  the 
house  of  Medici.  The  curia  remained  corrupt,  and  the  wide- 
spread scandals  of  the  clergy  were  undiminished.  Yet  upon 
Italian  thought  the  council  was  not  without  effect.  It  rntifd 
many  of  the  prelates  in  the  peninsula  to  the  need  of  reform 
and  encouraged  those  who  were  already  alive  to  that  necessity. 
The  g^ttiny^iifc^  that  If  gavfi  i^  r^ligrjous  feeling  found  expression 
in  the  rise  of  ^he  new  religious  co"^ptprm>trg  nnd  thn  nrtivltj  nl 
the  ipedia^ing  reforme^g  with  which  we  are  soon  to  deal. 

North  of  the  Alps  revolt  was  upon  the  verge  of  breaking  out. 
The  spirit  of  the  German  reformers,  as  we  have  seen,  was 
intensely  anti-Italian.  The  government  of  the  Church  was 
dominated  by  Italians.  The  curia  did  not  include  more  than 
two  or  three  Germans  and  Englishmen.  Leo  X  and  the  Lateran 
council  were  alike  oblivious  of  the  impending  catastrophe  in  the 
north.  The  Genpan  saw  the  promise  of  the  future  to  Hein  a 
successful  at^^rlf  iipr)n  ^hp  Paoacv :  the  Jtalian  deemed  that  orcSBi- 
ise  to  reside  in  the  defense  of  the  Papacy.  Such  a  situation  nat- 
urally made  Italy  hostile  to  the  German  ideas  of  reform. 

The  pagan  Leo,  with  his  indescribable  charm  of  speech,  his 
magnanimity,  his  learning,  and  his  love  of  art,  gave  place  to  the 
austere  Adrian  VI  (1522^23)  who  was  received  with  ill-con- 
cealed contempt  as  un  ponteUce  di  nazione  barhara.  The  new 
pope,  bom  in  Utrecht,  had  been  a  tutor  of  Charles  V ;  and  from 
humble  origin  he  had  risen  to  be  cardinal-bishop  of  Tortosa. 
He  had  been  the  papal  legate  in  Spain  and  had  done  much  in 
diat  country  to  reform  monastic  life.  But  he  had  never  set 
foot  in  Rome  until  he  entered  it  as  pontiff,  and  there  his  per- 
sonality was  altogether  unknown.  His  ascension  to  the  papal 
office  marked  an  abrupt  transition;  and  as  his  plans  for  a 
diorough-going  reform,  not  only  of  Rome  but  of  the  entire 
Church,  were  unfolded  the  contempt  in  which  he  was  held  by 
Leo's  retainers  deepened  into  hatred.  But  Adrian  was  not  able 
to  complete  the  gigantic  task  he  had  undertaken.  He  was,  indeed, 
scarcely  able  to  begin  it.    Confronted  with  the  implacable  hos- 


OBAP. 


1876-ltaO 


BfffCtof 

tlwTlflli 

Lfttona 

Oonndl 

onlUllMi 

TlioiiclU 


t 


HoMUif 

of  Italy 
to  tbo 
OomMi 

ZdOMOf 

Bofota 


3i8 


THE  PROTESTANT  REVOLUTION 


ORAP. 


1604-56 


Oaraflft 

MiAtlie 

B«glii- 

ningsof 

his  Oath- 

olicBef- 

ormattoa 


The  How 

Bellglons 

Orders 


tility  of  the  curia,  he  found  the  funds  at  his  disposal  altogether 
inadequate  and,  making  the  situation  more  difficult,  the  pestilence 
became  epidemic  in  the  Eternal  City.  Then,  too,  the  increasiif; 
peril  of  the  Turks  demanded  his  attention.  Adrian  met  all  these 
obstacles  with  determination;  and  the  chief  cause  of  his  failure 
to  carry  out  his  program  was  the  brevity  of  his  pontificate  whidi 
lasted  only  twenty  months.  On  September  14,  1523,  the  last  of 
the  non-Italian  popes  died,  and  he  was  succeeded  by  another 
Medician  pope,  the  worldly,  shifting,  and  procrastinating  Qement 
VII. 

But  there  was  left  in  Italy  a  man  quite  as  much  bent  as 
Adrian  had  been  upon  a  sweeping  reformation  within  the  Church, 
Giovanri  Piptro  ^^^^^  (1476-1559),  a  member  of  the  Nea- 
politan nobility.  In  1504  he  had  been  made  bishop  of  Chiet^  and 
he  had  then  worked  strenuously  to  eradicate  the  abuses  in  his 
diocese.  After  that  he  had  been  employed  in  the  papal  service 
as  l^:ate  to  England  and  nun^in  tn  5^paip.  He  was  a  typical 
representative  ot  southern  Italy,  eloquent  and  impetuous,  zealous 
but  not  always  wise,  obstinate  and  ruthless,  an  indefatigable 
worker  in  the  cause  he  had  at  heart.  In  Spain  he  had  seen  the 
work  of  the  great  reformer  Cardinal  Ximenes;  and  there,  too, 
he  had  known  Adrian  who  afterwards  became  pope.  Black  as 
were  the  stains  upon  the  Church  he  saw  the  feasibility  of  purifica- 
tion if  only  the  pope  would  adopt  the  proper  plan.  A  similar  re- 
former was  Qj^n  Mat^eo  nih^rtj  ( 1  Anc.^j c.ai^ .  bishop  of  Verona, 

whose    worl^   wag    f;«^ppria11y   />ff^/^fi'w   om/^ngr  fVi#.   1nw#>r   ^ryA    piS/L 

die  classes. 

Among  the  earliest  signs  of  the  spirit  of  reform  within  the 
Church  were  the  awakening  of  the  existing  religious  orders  and 
the  establishment  of  new  ones.  The  Germans  were  bent  upon 
the  abolition  of  monasticism,  but  the  Italians  desired  its  reten- 
tion and  regeneration.  Even  in  the  times  of  the  deepest  depres- 
sion, as  we  have  seen  in  our  study  of  the  revival  of  conscience, 
men  had  arisen  within  the  ranks  of  the  Church  with  the  purpose 
of  effecting  reform  without  revolt.  Once  more  such  men  took 
up  their  task.  While  the  Papacy  was  given  up  to  politics 
and  the  prelates  to  paganism  certain  cleri^cj^andjajmerj^  united  at 
Rome,  in  15 17,  soon  after  the  close  of  the  Lateran  council,  to 
form  the  society  known  as  the  OratQry  nf  the  Diyinp  T^vg. 
By  their  own  example  they  endeavored  to  lead  the  way  in  the 
abolition  of  the  prevalent  abuses;  and  they  did  not  confine  their 
work  to  religious  exercises  but  devoted  themselves  to  offices  of 
charity.  Similar  communities,  connected  with  the  one  at  Rome, 
were  established  at  Verona,  Vicenza,  Brescia,  and  Venice.     But 


HERESY  IN  THE  NORTH  AND  SOUTH  319 

from  the  nature  of  thl^ir  organization  and  the  claims  of  other     ^^vS' 

duties  they  did  not  exercise  a  wide  influence.    The^BroUifirSuQf      

Charity,  founded  in  1519,  was  another  order  devoted  to  reform,  i*!^*** 
TEsmonbers  helped  the  poor,  visited  the  prisons  and  hospitals, 
and  buried  those  who  had  died  in  poverty.  More  important  was 
the  Xhgatins,  an  order  founded  about  1524,  whose  chief  purpose 
was  to  improve  thp  rViarprtPr  nf  ^hc  parochial  clergy.  The  re- 
quiremefiTSi  fui  membership,  which  was  limited  to  the  nobility, 
were  so  strict  and  its  vow  of  poverty  so  severe,  that  after  nine 
years  it  could  claim  only  a  score  of  members.  But  it  was  a 
corps  d'ilite,  and,  becoming  a  seminary  for  bishops,  won  for 
itself  in  the  work  of  reform  a  position  of  unquestioned  impor- 
tance. Its  most  noted  members  were  the  gentle  and  retiring 
Gaetano  de  Thiene  and  the  impulsive  and  bigoted  Caraffa.  A 
fourth  order  was  established  about  1531  at  Milan.  Its  members 
called  themselves  the  Sons  of  St.  Paul,  but  they  became  known 
as  Bamabites  because  of  their  residence  in  the  ancient  convent 
of  St.  Barnabas.  They  made  a  far  wider  appeal  than  the 
Theatins,  preaching  in  the  open  air  to  g^eat  crowds  of  people. 
For  a  decade  northern  Italy  had  been  devastated  by  war,  in  the 
wake  of  which  followed  desolation  and  disease.  In  order  to 
take  care  of  the  numerous  orphans  Girolamo  Miani,  a  Venetian 
senator,  formed  a  congregation  of  regular  clergy  known  as  the 
^^"^^Sflhy  from  their  place  of  meeting,  the  village  of  Somasca, 
which  lies  in  isolation  some  distance  from  Bergamo.  Their  princi- 
pal work  was  the  conduct  of  their  orphanages,  but  they  also 
aided  the  sick,  the  poor,  and  the  ignorant.  But  most  important 
of  all  the  new  orders  were  the  Capuchins.  Very  early  the  Fran- 
ciscan order  had  fallen  into  decay]  The  reformatory  movements 
of  the  Spirituals  and  the  Fraticelli  we  have  already  seen.  An- 
other such  movement  received  the  papal  sanction  when  in  1526 
Qement  VII  authorized  Matteo  de'  Bassi  to  organize  into  a  new 
order  a  body  of  Franciscans  who  desired  to  restore  the  primitive 
simplicity  and  poverty  of  their  beloved  founder.  With  their 
robe,  made  of  the  roughest  material  they  could  procure,  they 
wore  a  square-pointed  hood,  cappuccio,  and  from  tiie  diminutive 
cappuccino,  which  means  "  little  hooded  fellow,"  a  title  bestowed 
upon  them  half  contemptuously  and  half  affectionately,  as  is  the 
Italian  way,  they  derived  their  name.  Their  chief  work  was  that 
:>f  revivalists.  They  preached  repentance  to  the  masses  of  the 
people.  But  they  also  administered  the  last  sacrament  to  the 
dying,  took  care  of  orphans,  and  gave  succor  to  the  destitute. 
In  1534  they  admitted  to  their  ranks  the  most  famous  preachers 
in  the  peninsula,  Bernardino  Ochino  and  Bernardino  of  Asti. 


3M 


THE  PROTESTANT  REVOLUTION 


MMUttsc 
BtfonMTt 


^Sf£'     They  became  a  powerful  instrument  of  reform  and  more  than 

-«--.      any  other  order  thus  far  established  did  they  keep  within  the 

***^^  I  fold  of  the  Mother  Church  the  mass  of  the  people  of  Italy.    Bat 

I  although  all  these  orders  in  a  lesser  or  a  greater  degree  con- 

I  tributed  to  the  r^;eneration  of  Italian  Catholicism  it  was  another 

f  and  a  later  order,  the  Tesuits.  to  whom  we  have  devoted  a  later 

I  chapter,  that  effectively  checked  the  advance  of  Protestantism  in 

I   the  peninsula. 

We  have  now  to  deal  with  a  group  of  men  whom  we  shall 
call  the  mediating  reformers,  men  who  hoped  to  effect  a  coo- 
ciliation  between  Catholicism  and  Protestantism,  men  who  were 
concerned  with  the  spirit  of  creeds  more  than  with  their  letter, 
men  who  valued  theology  less  than  religion,  men  who  laid  greater 
stress  upon  life  than  upon  mechanism.  Before  and  during  the 
various  revolts  from  Rome  they  denounced  the  curia  and  de- 
manded the  reformation  of  morals  and  discipline.  But  had  their 
power  developed  even  earlier  than  it  did  and  become  greater 
than  it  was  it  is  scarcely  probable  that  the  breach  could  have 
been  healed,  so  rapidly  did  Luther's  opinions,  in  spite  of  their 
author,  demonstrate  themselves  to  be  incompatible  with  the 
fundamental  postulate  of  the  Church  and  so  quickly  and  deeply 
did  they  strike  root  in  the  minds  and  hearts  of  men.  Among 
the  generous  minds  who  entertained  this  noble  Utopian  dream 
was  that  of  Gasx)aro  Contarini  (1483-1543),  a  distinguished 
Venetian  senator,  who  became  a  member  of  the  Oratory  yf  Di- 
YJne  Love.,  He  suggested  to  Qement  VII  the  rcflinquishmenl 
the  rapacy  of  its  territorial  possessions  and  the  concentration  of 
its  activity  upon  the  general  welfare  of  Christendom.  In  1535 
Paul  III  made  Contarini  a  cardinal.  Six  years  later  he  was 
sent  to  the  diet  of  Ratisbon ;  but  he  was  distrusted  and  hampered 
by  the  curia,  and  so,  owing  to  that  reason  and  to  the  suspicion 
and  disinclination  of  the  Lutherans,  that  last  genuine  effort  to 
conciliate  the  German  revolutionists  came  to  naught.  The 
mediating  reformers  believed  in  justification  by  faith,  as  the 
Church  had  always  done,  but  they  also  insisted  upon  the  fruition 
of  that  faith  in  good  works.  Their  attitude  is  well  expressed  in 
the  communication  sent  by  the  scholarly  and  eloquent  Cardinal 
Jacopo  Sadoleto  (1477-1547)  to  the  Genevans  in  an  attempt  to 
win  them  bacK  to  their  forsaken  fold.  "  We  obtain  this  bless- 
ing of  complete  and  perpetual  salvation,"  he  wrote,  "by  faith 
alone  in  God  and  in  Jesus  Christ.  When  I  say  faith  alone  I  do 
not  mean,  as  those  inventors  of  novelties  do,  a  mere  credulity 
and  confidence  in  God,  to  the  exclusion  of  love  and  other  Chris- 
tian virtues.    This  indeed  is  necessary,  and  forms  our  first  ac- 


11 


HERESY  IN  THE  NORTH  AND  SOUTH  321 

cess  to  God.    But  it  is  not  enough.    Our  minds  must  be  full     ^^ra* 

of  jnety  towards  God  and  desirous  of  performing,  by  the  power     

of  the  Holy  Spirit,  whatever  is  agreeable  to  Him/'  In  no  other  *wo-i» 
man  of  the  sixteenth  century  were  the  graces  of  humanism  and 
the  spirit  of  Catholicism  so  happily  blended  as  in  Sadoleto;  and 
in  all  the  letters  that  were  exchanged  between  him  and  Calvin 
he  displayed  a  far  finer  Christian  spirit  than  did  his  powerful 
opponent.  Cardinal  Giovanni JVIorone  (1509-80),  who  when  he 
entered  Modena  in  1533  as  it?"biShop'set  himself  at  once  to  re- 
form the  clergy  of  his  diocese,  preceded  Contarini  as  the  papal 
nuncio  at  Ratisbon.  He  repeatedly  urged  upon  Paul  III  the 
necessity  of  a  general  council  and  a  vigorous  prosecution  of 
reform  as  being  indispensable  to  the  recovery  of  Germany. 
Youngest  of  the  mediating  reformers  was  Cardinal  Reginald 
Pole  (1500-58),  an  Englishman  whose  greatest  aim  inlite  Vas* 
to  eSect  a  reconciliation  between  his  native  country  and  Rome. 
When  Contarini  was  sent  to  Ratisbon  he  conferred  with  Pole 
and  both  agreed  upon  a  conciliatory  policy.  The  diet  was  an 
event  of  great  importance.  Had  the  policy  of  the  mediating 
party  pre^^ed  the  Protestant  Revolution  would  doubtless  have 
assiuned  a  greatly  different  aspect.  But,  as  we  have  seen,  all 
attempts  at  compromise  failed  and  the  revolt  went  on  its  way. 
When  Paul  III  (1534-49)  became  pontiff  the  party  of  the 
mediating  reformers  icame  into  power.  It  was  he  who  elevated 
Contarini,  Sadoleto,  and  Pole  to  the  Sacred  College.  He  ap- 
pointed a  commission  of  nine  members  to  report  upon  the  nec- 
essary reforms.  Their  report.  Consilium  de  emendanda  Ecclesia, 
presented  in  1537,  is  an  out-spoken  eiiuiiiei<icli>ir  o^  the  abuses 
that  prevailed  throughout  the  Church.  So  scathing  was  the  in- 
dictment, so  complete  the  exposition,  that  it  was  decided  not  to 
publish  it  But  it  was  privately  printed  and  by  some  means  or 
other  a  copy  reached  Germany  where  it  was  at  once  reprinted 
with  satirical  annotations  calling  attention  to  the  fact  that  a 
papal  icommission  had  approved  all  the  German  demands  for 
reformation.  Little  seems  to  have  been  done,  however,  in  the 
way  of  reform.  War  broke  out  in  Italy  between  Charles  V  and 
Francis  I;  and  the  pope,  who  was  growing  old  and  feeble,  be- 
gan to  lose  his  interest  in  reform.  After  the  death  of  Paul  III 
there  came  the  brief  pontificates  of  Julius  III  (1150-55)  and 
Marcellus  II  (1555);  and  then  with  the  reign  of  the  bigoted 
Paul  IV  (1555-59)  ^^^  predominance  of  the  mediating  party 
at  Rome  came  to  an  end.  The  Catholic  world  assumed  an  aspect 
of  gloomy  fanaticism,  and  all  the  high  hopes  of  Contarini  and  his 
associates  dwindled  into  dust. 


.^ 


322  THE  PROTESTANT  REVOLUTION 


^S^'         There  were  in  Italy  not  only  men  and  movements  whose  pur- 

pose  it  was  to  effect  a  reform  within  the  Choidi  trat  also  men 

2Sf7-ifoo  ^|]Q  entertained  distinctly  Protestant  opinions,  and  there  were 

centers  in  which  those  opinions  were  propagated.    In  a  number 

rititg        of  towns  in  Italy  there  were  literary  circles  that  gradoally  ac- 

y*^^    quired  a  religious  complexion.    They  were  made  up  of  men  and 

,  -,  .A.  ^         women  who  were  deeply  penetrated  with  the  new  humanism  and 

)/^fJ(C  ^^'^^^pl^ho  at  the  same  time  felt  within  themselves  the  piercing  power 

pJU^C^-r^^^t'^'f  the  contemporary  religious  impulse.    A  marked  diversity  of 

opinion  prevailed  among  these  groups,  and,  indeed,  among  die 
members  of  each  single  group ;  but  a  large  number  of  those  who 
made  up  these  circles  entertained,  with  varying  d^^ees  of  mean- 
ing, the  belief  in  justification  by  faith  akme.  But  this  article  of 
faith,  and  other  opinions  analogous  to  Lutheranism,  did  not 
lead,  as  they  did  in  Germany,  to  revolution.  The  conviction, 
still  obtained  that  the  Church  is  one  and  indivisible,  and  that  the 
pope  is  the  Vicar  of  Christ  upon  earth ;  and  many  of  the  custcnns 
and  ceremonies  of  the  Church  were  too  closely  interwoven  with 
the  very  fiber  of  their  being  to  make  possible  any  general  depar- 
ture from  the  ancient  fold.  "No  corruption,"  said  Isid<m> 
Clario,  "  can  be  so  great  as  to  justify  a  defection  from  the  hal- 
lowed communion  of  the  Church."  And  then,  he  added,  "Is 
it  not  better  to  repair  what  we  have  than  to  endanger  all  by 
dubious  attempts  to  produce  something  new?  Our  sole  en- 
deavor should  be  to  improve  the  old  institution,  to  free  it  from 
its  defects."  It  must  be  borne  in  mind,  therefore,  that  the 
opinions  approximating  those  of  Luther  entertained  by  Italian 
scholars  were  tempered  by  their  attachment  to  the  Church. 

One  of  these  centers  of  Protestant  ideas  was  Ferrara.  In 
1533  Ercole  II  succeeded  to  the  ducal  throne.  Five  years  previ- 
ously he  had  married  Renee  (1510-75),  daughter  of  Louis  XII  of 
France.  She  had  been  brought  up  in  France  with  her  cousin 
Margaret,  who  afterwards  became  queen  of  Navarre,  and  the 
gwrwyt  two  girls  had  become  tinctured  with  the  new  religious  thought 
"       that  was  spreading  abroad  in  the  land.    When  she  went  to  Fer- 


Ftrnum 


i-^'^^^  *  ^  **"^^  rara,  in  1527,  she  took  these  new  opinions  with  her  and  she 
•^.M**-t«^  gathered  about  herself  a  group  of  kindred  spirits.  Included  in 
vA  ^.^^^  her  circle  were  the  French  poet,  Qement  Marot,  a  French  his- 
!>>-/  »  ^y  ^  torian,  Languet,  and  scholars  from  Germany,  Crete,  and  various 
.i>  '  V/ '>K-4talian  cities.  In  Ferrara  itself  adherents  were  gained  chief 
>,^j,^,,^t>^  ^     of  whom  was  Pellegrino  Morato,  a  professor  in  the  university, 

and,  later  on,  his  daughter,  the  eloquent  and  learned  Olympia. 
-^r*^^^'  In  the  midst  of  this  little  circle  there  appeared  in  the  spring  of 

1536  the  stem  figure  of   Calvin,   who  had   come  thither   one 


HERESY  IN  THE  NORTH  AND  SOUTH  32^ 


aiDws  not  why.    A  not  unlikely  reason  is  that  he  wished  to     ^xm 

tartle  the  world  by  creating  a  Protestant  State  in  the  very  center      

\{  the  Catholic  peninsula.  Little  is  known  of  the  proceedings  i**^"i*w 
f  the  great  theologian  in  Ferrara.  Very  soon  he  departed  as  he 
lad  come,  silently  and  alone.  It  was  not  to  be  much  longer  that 
leretical  opinions  were  tolerated  or  endured  in  the  duchy  of  the 
ilstc.  Fannio,  a  poor  youth  of  Faenza,  who  had  preached 
leterodox  ideas  throughout  Romagna,  was  put  to  death  in  1550 
n  accordance  with  a  papal  order.  This  is  the  second  recorded 
ieath  for  religion  at  this  period  in  Italy.  The  first  one  was  that 
}{  Jamie  Enzinas,  a  Spanish  Lutheran,  who  three  years  earlier 
vas  burned  at  the  stake  in  Rome.  Renee  sent  her  heretical  fol- 
owers  to  Mirandola,  in  whose  count  they  found  a  protector. 
[n  1554,  under  pressure  from  Rome,  the  duchess  received  the 
^craments  of  confession  and  communion,  though  she  remained 
It  heart  a  Calvinist.  Once  she  was  banished  by  her  husband  for 
icr  heretical  sympathies  to  G>nsandolo  in  the  pestiferous  delta  .  .— ' 
jf  the  Po;  and  once  she  was  shut  up  in  a  tower  as  insane.  In  |  ^ 
1560,  two  years  after  her  husband's  death,  she  took  up  her  "^ 
residence  in  Montargis,  in  France,  where  she  became  openly  a 
Calvinist,  though  at  times  she  was  filled  with  doubt  and  desired 
to  return  to  the  bosom  of  the  Church  of  her  childhood,  and 
where  she  gave  assistance  to  the  Huguenots.  Heresy  was  not 
allowed  to  linger  in  the  duchy  after  her  departure.  There  were 
continued  arrests  and  punishments. 

Modena,  the  other  capital  of  Ercole,  was  also  a  center  of  hu- 
manism and  heresy.    The  bishop  himself,  the  learned  Morone, 
whom  we  have  noticed  as  one  of  the  mediating  reformers,  gave  HwMfat 
no  little  encouragement  to  the  Protestant  views.    It  was  at  his  ^•^^•^  < 
express  command  that  the  book  On  the  benefits  of  Chrisfs  ^^tr^  ' 
ieath,  which  we  shall  notice  later  on,  was  printed.    When  the  ^J^JjH 
ruthless  Caraffa  became  pope,  Morone  was  himself  suspected  of  'Tvf^J^ 
beresy  and  thrown  into  prison  where  he  remained  for  about  two  y^^ 
yrears  until  he  received  the  papal  absolution.    Everywhere  in  the 
city,  according  to  Tassoni,  a  ^contemporary  writer,  the  people  en- 
gaged in  disputes  upon  the  faith  and  the  law  of  Christ  until 
the  town  became  known  as  a  "  second  Geneva."    But  soon  all 
suspected  persons  were  required  to  sign  an  explicit  declaration 
3f  faith.     Long  after  this,  however,  there  were  many  names  en- 
rolled upon  the  register  of  the  Inquisition  as  suspect  of  heresy. 
Punishment  was  inflicted  throughout  the  duchy  with  a  ruthless 
[land  and  at  Modena,  in  a  single  year,  1568,  thirteen  men  and  one 
ivoman  were  burned  at  the  stake. 

Very  naturally,  the  Lutheran  views  made  their  first  appear- 


3^4        THE  PROTESTANT  REVOLUTION 


ance  in  upper  Italy  between  which  and  the  dsmontane  countries 

there  was  a  constant  stream  of  conunerce  and  travel.    Many 

1087-1600  students  made  their  way  to  Bologna,  there  to  study  the  Roman 

law.    At  a  number  of  places  in  the  Romagna  there  was  an  out- 

RMwjin     cropping  of  Protestant  ideas.    In  1547  a  papal  brief  was  issued 

J^^Pa  for  the  suppression  of  the  Lutheran  heresy  in  Faenza;  and 

I  <vv»>fi,,^  -^    preachers  at   Forli,  Ravenna,  and   Bagnacavello,  came  under 

r^^TT'      suspicion.    Vendors   of   heretical   books   were  prosecuted   and 

i  XffciU^     "  persuaded  "  by  the  Inquisition  to  disclose  the  names  of  their 

*^^  jyj^patrons.    In  1550  twenty-eight  members  of  the  Servite  order 

^'   X  were  compelled  to  do  penance  for  their  heretical  opinions,  three 

were  expelled  from  the  order,  and  others  were  debarred  from 

performing  ecclesiastical  functions.    Still  later  other  members 

of  the  same  organization  were  punished  for  having  Lutheran 

literature  in  their  possession. 

Venice  was  one  of  the  greatest  conunercial  centers  in  Europe. 
Many  foreigners  found  their  way  there,  and  they  were  able  to 
make  public  their  religious  views  because  tolyratiop  was  prac* 
tlsed  by  the  p^py^mm^^t.  So  the  *Pf otestant  ideas  found  it  a 
RtrMjtt  favorable  place.  There,  too,  were  to  be  found  the  scattered 
vtniot  literati  of  Rome,  Florence,  Milan,  and  other  cities  that  had  been 
torn  by  factions  or  had  suffered  in  one  way  or  another  by  the 
long-continued  wars.  A  nimiber  of  these  men  gathered  about 
QjiiJgciflUvhom  they  regarded  as  their  leader.  Most  of  the  men 
who  were  engaged  in  spreading  the  Lutheran  teachings  were 
nifmhfrf  nf  rnlipnuF  nrdrn  In  answer  to  a  demand  for  re- 
pression the  Council  of  Ten,  in  1530,  refused  to  take  action.  In 
the  same  year  Caraffa  was  commissioned  by  the  Papacy  to  pro- 
ceed against  the  offenders  in  Venice  and  from  this  time  forward 
the  chief  passion  of  his  life  was  the  extinction  of  heresy.  Two 
years  later  he  called  the  pope's  attention  to  the  wide  prevalence 
•  of  heresy  in  the  Venetian  territory,  especially  to  the  "  apostate  " 

monks  and  friars,  who  were  everywhere  busily  engaged  in 
inculcating  the  obnoxious  views,  and  to  the  unrestricted  and  pub*- 
He  sale  of  heretical  writings,  a  veritable  fountain-head  of  heresy. 
In  1533  Aleander  was  sent  as  nuncio  to  Venice,  and  his  reports 
reveal  the  fact  that  heresv  was  beyinping  to  make  its  way  even 
among  the  lower  classes^  A  branch  of  the  perfected  Inquisition 
Jfl  YPnJQ 


n*iic«rT?J 


n^'etical  literature  began  fn  fjisapp^n'  from  the  dominions  of 
the  doge.  The  signoria  of  Venice  was  at  first  very  unwilling  to 
take  any  measures  at  all  against  the  heretics.  But  owing  either 
to  pressure  from  Rome,  or  the  turn  of  political  affairs,  or  their 
own  conclusion  that  the  progress  of  heresy  must  be  stopped,  the 


HERESY  IN  THE  NORTH  AND  SOUTH  331 


Venetians  finally  proceeded  against  the  accused  upon  their  own     ^^' 

nitiative.    Yet  the  signoria  always  kept  the  control  of  affairs  in      

ts  own  hands ;  and  for  some  time  it  restricted  with  firmness  the  ^•■^•^••^ 
lemand  of  the  Church  to  punish  heresy  with  bodily  maiming  or 
leath.  Heresy,  it  was  held,  could  be  eradicated  without  the  aid 
>f  the  rack  and  the  stake.  Eventually  the  death  penalty  was  in- 
licted.  Baldo  Lupetino,  who  had  propagated  Protestant  ideas 
imong  his  fellow-prisoners,  was  perhaps  the  first  one  to  suffer 
he  extreme  penalty  for  his  faith.  He  was  drowned  in  the  stag- 
lant  waters  of  the  lagoon. 

In  Lucca,  also,  the  tendency  toward  Protestantism  assumed  I 
something  of  the  aspect  of  a  popular  movement.    Some  of  the  \ 
principal  citizens  and  nobles  joined  a  group  of  scholars  in  the 
Jtudy  of  the  Pauline  epistles ;  but  by  1551  the  last  of  the  Lucchese 
leretics  had  been  compelled  to  seek  safety  in  flight.     Siena  and 
Viterbo  also  became  centers  of  heresy.    Cardinal  Pole  resided 
it  the  latter  place  as  the  papal  legate  from  1541  to  1545;  and  RMwjat 
luring  that  time  Cardinal  Morone,  Ochino,  Vittoria  Colonna  and  JJJJI^ 
>ther   scholars   were  there.    The   reformers   met   in   Cardinal  vittru©, 
Pole's  residence,  and  all  of  them  were  deeply  imbued  with  the  BrtMia» 
loctrine  of  justification  by  faith.    The  same  doctrine  was  spread  22r!« 
in  Padua  by  Michael  Geismayr,  a  peasant  leader  from  Salsburg. 
rhe  principal  teacher  of  heresy  in  Brescia  was  Pallavicini,  a 
Carmelite  monk;  but  the  new  opinions  never  obtained  a  decided 
support  there.    At  Como  there  was  a  little  group  favorably  in- 
:lined  to  the  still  more  radical  views  of  Zwingli.     Milan^  h^ 
w„,c#>  /xf  ;fe  pr/^^;^^*f^>  »r>  g^jfr^<>r1anH  and  the  Waldensian  valleys, 

md  tormina    m£  »Vin    ^n  nf  fliof    |j)^^  VenJce.  l^  yflf^  p   gmf  CttlUT  gf 

lommerce.  was  especially  exposed  to  the  infection  of  heresy. 
^*"ftng  ^^**  ^^^gy  N>tb  ^^"lac  and  regiilnr,  ^"^  omr^»^  fii^ 
aity,  the  Prnte<ttan^  fH<>a,<t  fnnnr]  ff»^^^ptanrifii  Down  through  the 
anisons,  the  Valtelline  and  the  Val  di  Chiavenna  the  new  doc- 
:rines  found  their  way  with  the  commercial  caravans;  and  the 
naterial  interest  of  the  Milanese  demanded  that  the  stream  of 
TaiSc  with  their  northern  neighbors  be  not  interrupted. 

But  the  ningf  ttTipor»'>^t  ^^"»^r  of  the  PrntPQtant  iHpaQ  in  J^^ly 

lay  far  to  the  south  and  had  for  its  guide  and  leader  not  an 
[talian  but  a  Spaniard.  The  reform  movement  at  Naples  cen- 
:cred  round  the  gifted  Juan  deValdes  (isoo?-40?)  who,  in  or-  Hmiyat 
ier  to  avoid  persecution  UL  llli  liinJTof  the  Inquisition,  left  his  J 
lative  land  in  1529,  and  after  five  years  of  wandering  settled  in 
:he  south  Italian  capital.  There  he  attracted  the  finest  spirits  of 
the  time.  It  cannot  be  said  that  he  was  a  disciple  of  any  one  of 
the    religious    revolutionists.    Rather    was    he    a    follower    of 


3j6  the  PROTESTANT  REVOLUTION 


Erasmus  whose  ideas  he  carried  to  their  logical  condusion.  He 
remained  always  within  the  pale  of  the  Church,  but  in  his  teadi- 
^•■^•^••^ '  ings  "  there  is  an  infinite  potentiality  of  rebellion  against  the 
whole  ecclesiastical  system."  In  his  catechism  may  be  found  an 
enunciation  of  the  doctrine  of  justification  by  faith;  yet  his 
Lutheran  tendencies  were  mixed  with  a  large  infusion  of  mys- 
tidsm,  for  he  hdd  that  above  reason  is  the  divine  inspiratioa 
that  ccxnes  from  the  abandonment  of  sdf  to  the  contemplation  of 
God.  The  remarkable  drde  that  Valdes  gathered  about  him  con- 
sisted of  men  and  women  who  represented  both  the  dergy  and 
the  laity.  It  included  among  others  Ochino,  Giulia  Gonzaga,  and 
Vittoria  Colonna.  Over  this  sdect  group  he  exercised  a  pro- 
found influence ;  and  his  influence  was  by  no  means  confined  to 
this  academic  and  aristocratic  drde  but  went  abroad  and  affected 
a  very  large  number  of  people.  Of  all  the  noble  ladies  who  were 
induded  among  the  adherents  of  Valdes  the  one  who  accepted 
most  completely  his  teachings  was  Giulia  Gonzaga  ( 1499  ?-i  566) 
reputed  to  have  been  the  most  beautiful  woman  in  Italy.  She 
gained  a  reputation  as  a  poet,  and  to  her  Valdes  dedicated  one  of 
his  books.  After  the  death  of  Valdes  some  of  his  immediate 
followers  scattered  themselves  throughout  Italy.  The  remainder 
looked  up  to  Donna  Giulia  as  a  leader.  Vittoria  G>lonna 
(1490-1547)  was  the  most  gifted  and  illustrious  woman  of  her 
age;  her  father,  head  of  the  long-descended  baronial  house, 
was  the  grand  constable  of  Naples,  and  her  mother  was  a 
daughter  of  the  duke  of  Urbino.  Her  husband,  the  marquis  of 
Pescara,  had  died  in  1525,  and  since  then  she  had  devoted  her 
life  in  retirement  at  her  villa  near  Naples  to  poetry  and  rdigion. 
Then,  after  spending  some  years  in  Rome  and  visiting  the 
duchess  Renee  at  Ferrara,  the  beautiful  and  high-souled  woman 
became  one  of  the  disciples  of  the  Spanish  scholar.  She  realized 
keenly  the  need  for  reform  within  the  Church.  ''I  sec  thy 
ship,  O  Peter,"  she  wrote,  "  so  over-laden  with  mire  that  it  is  in 
danger  of  sinking  at  the  first  attack  of  the  waves/*  From  such 
passages  in  her  writings  it  is  clear  that  she  ardently  desired  a 
reformation  of  morals  in  the  Catholic  world;  but  despite  the 
community  of  ideas  with  Margaret  of  Navarre,  as  revealed  in 
her  letters,  and  her  tolerance  of  dissenters,  it  does  not  appear 
that  she  stepped  beyond  the  pale  of  the  Church. 

We  have  now  to  deal  with  a  number  of  men  who  were  not 
definitely  connected  with  any  particular  group.  First  we  may 
notice  ^tv^nift  ^nr^'^^\  a  Florentine  scholar,  \vho  when  exiled 
from  the  Tuscan  capital  became  a  printer  in  Venice.  In  1532, 
two  years  before  Luther  completed  his  translation,  he  published 


dlTldial 


HERESY  IN  THE  NORTH  AND  SOUTH  327 


b  Italian  version  of  the  entire  Bible;  and  afterwards  he  gave     ^xvn' 

>  tiie  public  a  voluminous  commentary.    He  was  imprisoned      

y  the  Inquisition  in  1546  on  the  charge  of  heresy,  and  although  iM^-i*** 
le  accusation  was  never  substantiated  he  was  troubled  through- 
ut  the  remainder  of  his  life  by  that  engine  of  repression, 
riovanni  Battista  Folengo  (1500-59),  the  learned  Benedictine 
r'ioi  Of  MuiiUS  m^mo,  was  another  Italian  imbued  to  a  more  or 
sss  d^^ree  with  the  doctrine  of  justification  by  faith  alone.  He 
irrote  a  commentary  on  the  psdms,  that  contains  many  indica- 
ions  of  a  leaning  toward  Lutheranism.  He  attributed  justifica- 
ion  to  faith  alone  and  protested  against  placing  emphasis  upon 
rorks,  such  as  fasts,  prayers,  masses,  and  confessions.  Yet  he 
lassed  all  the  years  of  his  life  from  the  age  of  sixteen  to  sixty 
n  the  quiet  life  of  his  convent  on  the  mountain.  In  one  of  his 
etters  Marc  Antonio  Flaminio  (?~i55o),  a  man  of  true  piety 
ind  unquestioned  morality,  a  retiring  student,  put  forward  the 
ioctrine  of  justification  by  faith  alone.  "  The  gospel,"  he  said, 
'  is  no  other  than  the  glad  tidings  that  the  only-begotten  Son  of 
jod,  clothed  in  our  flesh,  has  satisfied  for  us  the  justice  of  the 
itemal  Father.  Whoever  believes  this  enters  the  kingdom  of 
jod;  he  enjoys  the  universal  forgiveness;  from  being  a  carnal 
:reature,  he  becomes  a  child  of  grace  and  lives  in  a  sweet  peace 
>f  conscience.''  This  announcement  of  the  Lutheran  postulate 
s  certainly  clear  and  explicit.  Yet  in  his  preface  to  his  com- 
nentary  on  the  psalms  Flaminio  referred  to  the  pope  as  *^  the 
carder  and  prince  of  all  holiness,  the  vice-r^;ent  of  God  upon 
arth.'' 

The  Italian  version  of  the  doctrine  of  justification  by  faith  TheTrMi 
done  received  its  best  and  most  popular  expression  in  a  little  ^j|^ 
X)ok  called  Th^  heneUt  of  Chrisfs  dea^fi.    Its  authorship  ha»  efltaf  ^ 
)een  ascribed  to  various  persons,  including  Juan  Valdes,  but  thd  j^^^  * 
:ofisensus  of  the  most  recent  opinion  is  that  it  is  the  work  of 
Benedetto  of  Mantua,  a  Benedictine  monk,  that  he  wrote  it  in  his 
:onvent  at  the  foot  of  Mount  Etna,  and  that  at  his  request 
Flaminio  revised  it  both  in  subject-matter  and  in  style.    It  was 
rirctilated  at  first  in  manuscript  and  then  in  printed  form.    "  It 
treats  in  an  insidious  manner  of  justification,"  says  a  report 
>f  the  Inquisition ;  **  under- valuing  works  and  merits,  it  ascribes 
dl  to  faidi;  and  as  this  is  the  very  point  upon  which  so  many 
^relates  and  monks  are  stumbling,  the  book  has  been  widely  cir- 
rulated.''    So  eager  and  wide-spread  was  the  demand  for  the 
xx)k  that,  so  it  is  said,  more  than  40,000  copies  were  printed  in 
:he  one  city  of  Venice ;  and  so  thoroughly  and  ruthlessly  did  the 
Inquisition  carry  on  a  campaign  of  extirpation  against  it  that  it 


i 


328  THE  PROTESTANT  REVOLUTION 


<^^*     was  thought  every  copy  had  been  destroyed  until  in  1855  ooe^ 

bearing  the  name  of  Paleario,  was  found  in  the  library  of  the 

if48-i«oo  University  of  Cambridge.  It  seems  to  be  the  voice  of  a  groof 
of  like-minded  associates  rather  than  that  of  an  individual ;  and 
it  endeavors  to  strike  a  compromise  between  the  one  extreme 
of  justification  by  faith  alone  and  the  other  of  justification  bj 
works  without  faith.  In  this  respect  it  has  justly  been  called 
the  credo  of  the  Italian  reformers  who  entertained  Protestant 
ideas. 

The  hope  of  the  mediating  reformers,  as  we  have  seen,  was 
frustrated.    The  division  of  Christianity  had  become  irreparable. 
TktPwr-     And  the  hope  of  all  those  spiritual-minded  men  who,  touched 
qiS^fltt'    with  the  humanistic  temper,  desired  to  see  Catholicism  not  only 
^^UNp-fJii      purged  of  the  immorality  of  its  priests  and  recalled  from  its  ex- 
2|j|  treme  engrossment  in  worldly  affairs  but  also  broadened  and 

\*V^        liberalized  was  likewise  doomed  to  disappointment     For,  in- 
P^  stead  of  becoming  more  liberal,  the  Papacy  put  aside  the  in- 

difference of  the  Renaissance  period  and  became  ruthless  and 
relentless  in  its  persecution  of  all  that  savored  of  heresy.  At 
the  instigation  of  the  inhuman  Caraffa,  ardently  seconded  by 
Loyola,  the  bull  Licet  ab  initio,  July  21,  1542,  was  issued  for 
the  purpose  of  reorganizing  the  Roman  Inquisition  in  a  man- 
ner similar  to  that  of  Spain.  CafTffp  wm  Jt*^  ^^^  ^rrr*  It 
presupposed  the  fact  that  the  existing  local  inquisitions  in  Italy 
and  elsewhere  were  unable  to  cope  with  the  situation.  It  was 
intended  to  have  a  wide  jurisdiction  and  to  be  an  effective  in- 
strument for  the  carrying  out  of  the  rapidly  extending  and 
sinister  designs  of  the  Papacy.  For  sometime  after  its  reor- 
ganization it  was  inefficiently  administered  and  remained  un- 
provided with  the  necessary  secular  support.  But  it  was  not 
destined  to  remain  thus  comparatively  impotent.  Later  on  it 
gained  the  fearful  repute  of  making  the  most  frightful  and 
terrible  decisions  upon  earth ;  and  so  effective  did  it  become  that 
long  before  the  century  was  ended  all  the  contaminating  seeds 
of  heresy  had  been  stamped  out  of  the  peninsula,  and  their  most 
important  expression,  the  widely  distributed  Sui  beneHzii  delta 
morte  di  Crista,  was  thought  to  have  been  utterly  destroyed. 
Of  the  many  who  suffered  persecution  and  death  at  the  hands 
Thoztai-  of  the  revived  Inquisition  we  have  space  to  mention  only  two. 
P^^^|-p  r:impi;<^rlTi  ( 1 508-68)  was  a  Florentine  of  noble  birth 
who  became  an  influential  private  secretary  to  Clement  VIL 
After  the  death  of  that  pontiff  he  entered  secular  life.  The 
turning  point  of  his  career  was  his  meeting  with  Valdes  in 
Naples.    He  accepted  the  Spanish  scholar  as  his  spiritual  guide. 


UnMaT' 


HERESY  IN  THE  NORTH  AND  SOUTH       3^ 

le  was  a  broad-minded  man  who  believed  the  fundamental     ^xm 

Aitheran  doctrine  with  the  customary  Italian  reservation  that      

\c  did  not  entirely  discard  the  eflficacy  of  good  works.  After  ^•^•'^•^ 
rial  and  acquittal,  subsequent  imprisonment  and  escape,  after 
'ears  of  wandering  in  France  and  Italy,  consorting  everywhere 
vith  heretics,  inclining  now  toward  Calvinism  and  now  toward 
!^utheranism,  he  was  put  on  trial  once  more,  this  time  in  Rome, 
md  after  a  stubborn  defense  he  was  beheaded  and  burned. 
\onio  Paleario.(i^oo-7o)»  though  of  a  complaining  and  some- 
what quarfeiscmie  disposition,  was  a  g^eat  scholar,  interested  in 
loctrinal  reform,  who^  taught  with  success  in  many  of  the  im- 
portant-towns  in  northern  Italy.  Oblivious  or  unmindful  of 
langer  he  continued  to  publish  heretical  views  and  to  correspond 
srith  dsmontane  reformers  after  his  interrupted  trial  in  Siena 
for  heresy.  In  1570,  in  the  presence  of  the  implacable  Pius  V, 
who  himself  had  been  an  inquisitor,  he  was  condemned  as  an 
impenitent  heretic  and  shortly  afterwards  he  was  strangled  and 
burned  in  Rome. 

In  addition  to  all  those  who  suffered  death  either  for  the  par- 
ticular doctrines  they  cherished  or  for  the  cause  of  liberty  of  TteXtei. 
thought  itself,  there  were  other  Italians  who  escaped  the  clutches  '•"***^ 
of  the  Inquisition  and  spent  the  remainder  of  their  years  in 
exile.  The  ntunber  of  these  refugees  was  very  considerable. 
In  many  places  in  Switzerland  and  in  some  of  the  German  cities 
they  formed  independent  congregations.  Still  others  were  to 
be  found  in  France,  in  England,  and  in  the  Slavonic  lands. 
The    most    notable    in    some    respects    of    these    exiles    was 

Ochino  (1487-1565)  of  Siena,  vicar-general  of  the 
Capuchins  aim  lUliy  y  most  eloquent  and  beloved  preacher.  He 
was  won  over  to  the  new  ideas  by  his  association  with  Valdes  at 
Naples.  Multitudes  flocked  to  hear  him  in  the  various  cities  in 
which  he  preached.  The  churches  were  too  small  to  hold  the 
crowds.  Young  and  old,  men  and  women,  scholars  and  peasants, 
pressed  eagerly  to  listen  to  his  message.  Clad  in  the  rough  gar- 
ment of  his  order,  his  body  enfeebled  by  fasting  and  his  face 
illumined  by  his  ardor,  he  had  the  aspect  of  a  saint.  "  He  who 
hath  made  thee  without  thine  help,"  he  asked,  "  shall  He  not 
also  save  thee  without  thine  aid?"  For  some  time  under  sus- 
picion, he  was  summoned  in  1542  to  appear  before  the  Inquisition 
at  Rcmie.  On  his, way  thither  he  stopped  to  visit  the  dying 
Contarini  at  Bologna;  and,  meeting  with  Vermigli  in  Florence, 
the  two,  convinced  of  their  danger,  fled  to  Switzerland.  At 
Geneva  and  Zurich  and  Basel  he  became  the  pastor  of  congre- 
gations of  Italian  fugitives.    But  his  emotional  temperament  and 


330  THE  PROTESTANT  REVOLUTION 


^S^'     his  radical  views  did  not  permit  him  to  stay  long  in  any  one  place. 

After  preaching  at  Strasburg  he  accqyted  Cranmer's  invitation  to 

1648-1600  gQ  ^Q  England.  In  London  he  became  the  pastor  of  the  Italians 
who  attended  the  Strangers'  Qiurch.  He  stayed  in  England 
three  years  and  then  returned  to  Zurich.  From  thence  he  was 
driven  out  because  in  a  volume  of  religious  dialogues  he  had  per- 
mitted one  of  the  interlocutors  to  question  the  doctrine  of  the 
Trinity  and  to  uphold  the  lawfulness  of  polygamy.  He  died  on 
reaching  Moravia,  almost  seventy-eight  years  old.  Petcr- 
Martyr  Vermi^  (1500-62)  had  been  prior  of  the  great  con- 
vent of  the  Austin  canons  at  Naples  and  visitor-general  of  the 
order.  He,  too,  had  come  ^nd^AeJnfl^cnceuJcLyaWes.  In 
1 541  he  went  to  Lucca  where  hegathcrcdabout  him  a  congenial 
group  of  scholars.  The  attendance  at  his  Sunday  sermons  con- 
tinually increased,  and  upon  his  hearers,  as  we  have  seen,  he 
enjoined  participation  in  the  Eucharist  merely  as  a  commemora- 
tion of  the  sacrifice  of  the  cross.  Within  a  single  year  no  less 
than  eighteen  members  of  his  order  left  Lucca  and  put  thetn- 
selves  in  safety  beyond  the  Alps.  After  his  flight  to  Switzer- 
land he  was  invited  to  England  by  Cranmer  where  he  exenSsed 
a  great  influence  at  Oxford  and  in  the  English  episcopacy.  An- 
other notable  exile  was  Pierpaolo  Vergerio,  a  Venetian  laiirycr 
who  became  an  important  Hgureln  the  papal  diplomatic  service. 
After  being  elevated  to  the  episcopate  he  continued  to  act  as  an 
agent  of  the  Papacy  pursuing  simultaneously  and  aggressively 
plans  for  reform  and  schemes  for  his  personal  advancement. 
In  France  he  met  Margaret  of  Navarre  and  in  Germany  he  came 
into  contact  with  Melanchthon.  At  the  diet  of  Worms  he  ad- 
mitted the  existence  of  grave  abuses  in  the  Church,  but  pleaded 
earnestly  for  union.  Then  he  went  to  his  diocese  of  Capo  d* 
,  Istria,  where  he  endeavored  to  eradicate  the  ecclesiastical  evils. 
The  reading  of  heretical  literature  filled  his  mind  with  doubt. 
When  suspicion  resulted  in  accusation  he  laid  his  case  before 
the  Council  of  Trent,  but  that  body  forbade  him  to  return  to  his 
bishopric.  At  the  close  of  1548  he  made  known  his  determina- 
tion to  secede  from  the  Church  and  this  brought  about  his  dep- 
osition and  excommunication.  He  fled  to  the  Grisons,  taking 
with  him  the  manuscript  of  Valdes's  One  Hundred  and  Ten 
Divine  Considerations.  This,  with  a  prefatory  commendation 
by  Curione,  he  was  instrumental  in  having  printed  and  published 
at  Basel.  The  last  nine  years  of  his  life  were  spent  at  Wurttem- 
berg  where  he  created  the  impression  of  being  a  self-seeking  and 
a  disappointed  man.  Ludovjgn  C^^lv^^ro  _r  1 505-1571  ^  was  one 
of  the  members  of  the  academy  at  Modena  who  were  suspected  of 


HERESY  IN  THE  NORTH  AND  SOUTH  331 


leresy.    A  papal  brief  was  issued  for  his  arrest  on  the  ground     ^^^n' 

»f  having  translated  into  Italian  the  writings  of  Melanchthon.      

^ter  on  he  was  persuaded  to  go  to  Rome  to  submit  himself  to  *•*•-*••• 
rial,  but  before  the  trial  was  concluded  he  fled  with  his  brother 
o  Chiavenna,  where  he  lived  until  his  death.  The  Piedmontese 
scholar  Celjj2..SccoHde-CudQne  (1503-69)  was  one  of  the  mem- 
)crs  of  the  gfroup  gathered  about  the  duchess  Renee  at  Ferrara. 
Previous  to  that  he  had  been  for  three  years  a  professor  in  the 
Jniversity  of  Padua  and  had  lived  in  Venice.  With  the  assist- 
mce  of  Renee  he  became  one  of  the  teachers  whom  Vermigli 
^tablished  in  Lucca,  when,  as  prior  of  the  convent  of  San 
Frcdiano,  the  latter  secured  quasi-episcopal  rights  in  that  city. 
More  daring  than  Vermigli  he  delayed  his  departure  from  Lucca 
mtil  after  the  escape  of  his  master.  He  waited,  indeed,  until  the 
sheriff  came  to  arrest  him.  Then,  being  of  large  and  powerful 
;>hysique,  he  cut  his  way  through  the  police,  jumped  upon  a 
lorse,  rode  away,  and  reached  Switzerland  in  safety.  Another 
mportant  exile  was  Valentino  Gentile  (1520-56)  whose  religious 
riews  with  those  of  others  of  his  countrymen  came  under  the 
suspicion  of  Calvin  at  Geneva.  He  signed  a  Calvinistic  con- 
fession of  faith,  but  he  afterwards  retracted  and  eventually 
Mras  beheaded  at  Bern  for  his  relapse  into  his  obnoxious  opinions. 
Two  other  notable  exiles,  with  whom  we  shall  deal  in  the  next 
rhapter,  were  the  Socini,  Lelio  (1525-62),  and  Fausto  (1539- 
[604)  his  nephew. 

The  possibility  was  always  slight  that  Protestant  ideas^ould  BffMiof 
ind  a  fruitful  soil  in  Spain  in  the  sixteenth  century.    The  in-  JJJJJST'' 
lensity  of  the  Spanish  character  had  produced  religious  convic-  oniMd« 
Jons  that  were  as  unreasoning  as  they  were  profound.    In  the  i{|^.i, 
*arlier  centuries  of  the  Middle  Ages  the  Spanish  peoples  had  Ohiu^n 
3een  tolerant  in  their  dealings  with  Jew  and  with  infidel.     ^^^Z!S^^lf^ 
Jie  protracted  re-conquest  of  the  peninsula  religious  zeal  had^^'^^^viV 
clayed  but  a  slight  part.     In  the  days  of  the  Cid  there  were  in- 
rluded  in  each  of  the  contending  armies  both  Christians  and 
Moslems.     Between  the  opposing  armies  there  were  frequently 
x>ncluded,  in  open  violation  of  the  commands  of  the  Church, 
illiances  and  treaties  providing  for  freedom  of  trade  and  inter- 
xmrse.    The  Spaniards  of  those  days  appear  not  to  have  been 
jver-scrupulous    in    religious    matters;    they    displayed    little 
Fanaticism.     But  the  crusading  era  increased  their  religious  ar- 
lor.     Intolerance  spread  abroad  in  the  land.    A  fierce  and  un- 
relenting persecution  of  all  faiths  other  than  Catholicism  came 
JO    prevail.     When    the    Spanish    prelates    returned    from    the 
Zouncil  of  Vienne  in  13 12  they  brought  with  them  not  only  hostile 


332 


THE  PROTESTANT  REVOLUTION 


OHAP. 


nt.1498 


Oondltioii 
of  Bpaidili 
OlTiUn- 

tlOB 


IHPMld- 
61107  of 

theOliiireli 

npoBtlio 

8UI0 


XimoiiM 
and  lilf 
Stform 


canons  against  the  Jews  and  Moors  but  also  the  persecuting  spirit 
that  had  produced  them.  The  gradual  re-conquest  of  SpamiA 
districts  from  the  Moors  had  resulted  in  the  presence  of  laip 
numbers  of  Jews  and  infidels  in  Christian  territory.  Under  Ae 
stimulation  of  the  Church  the  old  indifference  to  these  masses 
outside  her  fold  gave  place  to  a  deep  and  implacable  hatred. 

The  long  struggle  with  the  Moors  had  confirmed  the  feudal 
character  of  the  Spanish  nobility,  rendered  it  disinclined  to  adapt 
itself  to  the  changed  commercial  conditions  of  the  time.  Ex- 
alted pride  discouraged  participation  in  either  commerce  or  man- 
ufacture. Oppressive  taxation  ruined  industry  and  agriculture. 
The  burghers  were  denied  all  chance  for  progress  in  political, 
social,  commercial,  and  industrial  matters.  The  peasantry  werc;^ 
sunk  in  profound  ignorance.  The  wealth  of  the  Indies  poured 
through  Spain  as  water  through  a  sieve.  The  fundamental  ideas 
of  the  Renaissance  failed  to  take  root  in  the  peninsula,  and  those 
of  the  Protestant  Revolution  fared  even  worse.  The  country 
remained  attached  to  the  theological  ideas  of  the  Age  of  Faith. 

In  Spain  the  Church  was  much  more  dependent  upon  the 
State  than  elsewhere  in  the  Catholic  lands.  Castile,  in  particular, 
had  always  displayed  its  independence  of  the  Papacy.  It  had 
often  refused  to  obey  the  canon  law  and  it  had  persistently  de- 
clined to  permit  the  medieval  Inquisition  to  obtain  a  footing  in 
its  territory.  Everywhere  throughout  Spain  the  secular  power 
insisted  upon  the  right  to  appoint  to  ecclesiastical  office,  though 
in  tumultuous  times  the  claim  was  not  always  carried  out  in, 
practice.  Even  such  pious  monarchs  as  Ferdinand  and  Isabella 
upheld  the  claims  of  the  secular  power  in  these  matters.  Both 
the  cortes  and  the  monarch  legislated  regarding  ecclesiastical 
subjects.  The  jurisdiction  of  the  Church  courts  was  curtailed  in 
open  defiance  of  canon  and  decretal.  Far  less  than  elsewhere 
were  clerics  immune  from  the  operation  of  the  secular  law  in 
Spain;  while  the  laity  were  safe-guarded  from  many  of  the 
claims  of  the  canonical  courts.  Even  this  was  not  all.  The 
secular  power  asserted  its  right  to  intervene  in  matters  within 
the  Church  itself.  It  interfered  in  such  matters  as  the  correction 
of  clerical  immorality  and  the  manner  of  celebrating  the  masSy 
Thus  was  the  Church  in  Spain  subjugated  to  the  State  in  an  un- 
paralleled degree.  / 

In  Spain,  as  well  as  in  Italy,  there  were  men  who  desired  to 
effect  a  reformation  within  the  Church  and  who  devoted  them- 
selves to  the  accomplishment  of  their  plans.  Chief  of  them  was 
a  Franciscan  friar.  Cardinal  Francisco  Ximenej;  de  Cisneros 
(14^5-151;)    wliU, '  US' Urillioishop  of  Toledo,  proceeded  ener- 


HERESY  IN  THE  NORTH  AND  SOUTH  333 


gedcally,  and  with  the  support  of  the  monarchy,  to  stamp  out     ^xm 

Mohammedanism  in  his  diocese  and  to  fulfil  the  earliest  tradi-      

tXHis  of  his  order  by  eradicating  the  immorality  of  the  clergy,  ^^•••"i^ 
So  vigorous  were  his  measures  that  monks  and  friars  fled  be- 
fore his  approaching  visitations  to  their  convents.  Appeals  were 
made  to  the  pope,  but  only  with  temporary  success,  against  so 
hard  a  master.  The  indomitable  spirit  of  the  imperious  re- 
former prevailed.  Monasteries  were  deprived  of  their  "  priv- 
il^;es/'  and  their  members  were  disciplined.  Parish  priests  who 
were  unfit  for  their  office  were  replaced  by  others  whose  char- 
acter and  zeal  were  tried  and  approved.  So  great  was  the  reform 
that  the  morality  of  the  Spanish  monks  and  friars  was  greatly 
superior  to  that  of  the  clergy  in  any  other  country  of  western 
Europe.  But  the  work  of  Ximenes  was  not  permanent.  With' 
his  death  it  b^an  to  disappear. 

When  the  government  began  its  policy  of  eradicating  heresy 
it  was  inevitable  that  the  State  should  have  control  of  the  in- 
struments of  persecution.    The  Inquisition,  which  was  estab-  The 
lished  in  1480,  was  a  national  institution  controlled  by  the  State  J^^jft 
far  more  than  by  the  Papacy.    Ferdinand  and  Isabella  saw  to  it  JJjimgi 

that  it  was  kept  under  governmental  control  as  much  as  possible.^^  J^^ 
In  accordance  with  this  policy  a  new  office,  not  found  in  thc^  ^^J^^-^^ 
preceding  Inquisition,  that  of  the  inquisitor-general,  was  created.  ^^"^^^ 
To  this  important  position  there  was  appointed  the  confessor  of 
the  two  sovereigns,  Tlfomas  ^y  Tftrqi^fmi^j^  a  tireless  and  a 
pitiless  man,  to  whose  activity  the  extension  of  the  institution 
throughout  Spain  and  the  improvement  of  its  organization  were 
due.  Adapted  to  meet  the  requirements  of  its  environment  the| 
Spanish  Inquisition  soon  came  to  dominate  the  conscience  of 
every  individual.  It  made  its  own  laws  subject  only  to  the  in- 
frequent interference  of  the  Papacy  and  to  the  unexacting  con- 
trol of  the  crown.  The  arm  of  the  State  was  ever-ready  to  en- 
force its  will.  Its  summary  procedure  disregarded  all  recognized 
law,  and  its  operations  were  veiled  in  impenetrable  secrecy.  Thus, 
equipped  with  its  perfect  organization,  clothed  with  the  dread 
authority  of  the  Church,  and  armed  with  the  power  of  the 
secular  government,  did  it,  for  three  centuries,  eviscerate  the 
material,  the  intellectual,  and  the  spiritual  life  of  Spain.  Fer- 
dinand desired  the  Inquisition  to  proceed  with  justice  according 
to  the  standard  of  the  time ;  but  after  his  death,  '*  in  the  turmoil 
and  absences  of  Charles  V  and  the  secluded  labors  of  Philip  II 
over  despatches  and  consultas,"  it  became  practically  independ- 
ent of  the  crown.  It  had  exclusive  jurisdiction  over  all  things 
pertaining  directly  or  indirectly  to  matters  of  faith;  and  in  the 


334  THE  PROTESTANT  REVOLUTION 


9SiS'     wide  field  of  civil  and  criminal  affairs  it  could  take  what  action 
it  saw  fit.    Not  the  htunblest  of  its  servants  was  subject  to  locil 

1480-1600  i3^s  and  regulations.  It  judged  all,  but  was  itself  jucfged  bf 
none.  Its  spies  were  everywhere,  and  they  were  assured  <rf 
immunity  by  the  denial  to  die  accused  of  the  right  to  learn  the 
name  of  his  accuser.  At  the  head  of  the  organization  was  die 
inquisitor-general.  Then  there  was  a  consultative  body,  die 
Suprema,  which  eventually  became  its  ruling  power.  The  cotm- 
try  was  divided  into  districts.  Each  district  had  its  own  local 
tribunal.  In  theory  all  these  tribunals  were  subject  to  the 
Suprema,  but  the  supervision  of  that  distant  body  was  at  best 
imperfect.  The  local  tribunal,  practically  a  law  unto  itself,  rep- , 
resented  the  Inquisition  to  the  people.  Each  tribunal  had  its 
special  building  containing  its  prison.  The  tribtmals  derived 
their  financial  support  from  the  fines  and  penances  they  im- 
posed, from  fees  for  dispensations,  from  ecclesiastical  oflSces, 
obtained  for  their  members,  and,  above  all  else,  from  the  con- 
fiscation of  the  property  of  their  victims. 

I  One  of  the  most  important  of  the  functions  of  the  Inquisition 
Iwas  its  censorship  of  the  press.  No  book  could  safely  be 
printed,  imported,  or  offered  for  sale,  without  its  permission. 

Tuqyi-. .  The  censure  was  stringent,  and  it  did  much  to  stop  the  develop-^ 

""*  ment  9^  giviliz^^iyp   in   ^psjjpj    Against  culture  and   learning 

ere  was  waged  an  unrelenting  warfare.  The  most  heterodox 
of  heresies  and  the  most  inconsequent  of  opinions  were  included 
in  the  disapprobation.  So  rigorous  was  the  repression  of  na- 
tive thought  and  so  complete  was  the  exclusion  of  foreign  ideas 
that  the  intellectual  and  artistic  development  of  the  country  was 
checked  and  then  "  stunted  and  starved  into  atrophy."  Africa, 
ran  the  significant  saying,  began  at  the  Pyrenees. 

The  original  purpose  of  the  Spanish  Inquisition  was  the  ex- 
tirpation of  the  Jewish  and  Moorish  faiths ;  but  with  the  spread 
of  suspicious  doctrines  among  the  Christians  it  began  to  turn  its 

TheSpui.    energies  in  a  new  direction.    About  the  first  half  of  the  six- 


♦fl  ^I^I^^^enth  century  mysticism  and  illuminism  began  their  develop- 
I    A  Jj^tnent  in  Spain.     In  our  study  of  the  revival  of  conscience  we 
h^    \^*  h^ive  seen  that  mysticism  by  bringing  the  individual  into  direct 
Ay^i^A^^^*    relation  with  God  lessens  the  dependence  upon  the  sacraments 
I  and  other  ministrations  of  the  Church.    Because  of  this  fact  the 

Inquisition  became  determined  to  root  out  this  potential  peril. 
At  first  an  attempt  was  made  to  distinguish  between  the  mys- 
ticism that  might  safely  be  tolerated  and  that  which  was  seem- 
ingly hostile  in  spirit  to  the  Church.  But  this,  if  not  impossible, 
was  exceedingly  difficult.     So  it  came  about  that  the  simplest 


HERESY  IN  THE  NORTH  AND  SOUTH  335 

forms  of  mysticism,  as  well  as  the  advanced  theories  of  illviminism     ^xm 

md  quietism,  gradually  became  subject  to  the  persecution  of  the      

[nquisition«     Yet  mysticism,  in  spit^  pf  tbis^  gr<^w  apace  and  be-  iw»-ieoo 
amc  deeply  rooted  in  the  Spanish  rharacter.    The  country  be- 
irame  steeped  1ft  its   atmospnere.     Its  exaggerations  gave  ex-  ^  ^m 

;>ression  to  the  religious  fervor  of  the  people.     In  Sant^  Teres^V^  if*H^^^ 

■ 


(1515-82),  Fray  TnU  A^  f,^^iyj}  (iciA^i's  and  San  Tuan 
Cra^t-C  1 542-91)  it  attained  its  highest  level  of  spirituality, — 
the  sunset  glow  of  medieval  Catholicism.  But  even  Santa 
Teresa  was  secluded  in  a  convent  and  narrowly  escaped  trans- 
portation to  the  Indies;  and  her  most  famous  follower,  San 
Juan  de  la  Cruz,  was  several  times  accused  before  the  Inquisi- 
tion. 

The  first  distinct  traces  of  heresy  in  Spain  were  probably  those 
due  to  the  influence  of  Erasmus.    Charles  V  was  an  admirer 
of  Erasmus  and  when  the  emperor  returned  to  Spain  in  1522  the 
influence  of  the  great  humanist  was  at  its  height.    Nobles  and 
clergy  who  had  leanings  toward  culture  read  his  works.    The  ThtSpaii' 
patronage  of  several  popes  and  of  numbers  of  princes  seemed  to  ^J^ 
stamp  his  opinions  with  authoritative  approval.    About  1526  his 
Enchiridion  was  translated  into  Spanish  and  it  enjoyed  an  ex- 
tensive circulation.     So  widely  were  his  views  diffused  through- 
out the  peninsula  that  Erasmus  became  convinced  that  Spain  was 
to  be  the  land  in  which  a  reformation  without  "  tumult "  wou 
be  accomplished.    Gradually,  however,  there  was  developed  ^4Jjl  ytrM^r** 
party  opposed  to  him  and  his  teaching's.    His  scholarship  was  \f 

disparaged,  his  earnestness  questioned,  and  his  orthodoxy  im- 
pugned. The  Erasmitas  secured  a  bull  from  Clement  VII  en- 
joining silence  upon  their  opponents.  But  Charles  left  Spain  in 
1529  and  took  with  him  some  of  the  most  important  of  the  fol- 
lowers of  the  great  humanist  and  from  that  time  his  party  be- 
gan to  decline  and  that  of  his  rivals  correspondingly  to  increase. 
Among  the  Spanish  scholars  who  owned  the  leadership  of 
Erasmus  was  Luis  Vives  (1492-1540)  who,  at  his  master's  sug- 
§[estion,  edited  Augustine's  De  Civitate  Dei,  He  became  a  pro- 
fessor at  Louvain.  After  that  he  lived  in  England  for  some 
years  and  from  thence  returned  to  Spain.  He  finally  settled  in 
the  Low  Countries;  and  at  Bruges,  where  he  died,  he  devoted 
himself  to  works  against  the  scholastic  philosophy  and  the  pre- 
ponderating authority  of  Aristotle.  Ljlfnngo  Vnldrn  (T|nn^ 
1532),  the  twin  brother  of  Juan,  was  one  of  the  emperor's  secre- 
taries, the  one  employed  upon  occasions  when  scholarly  ability 
was  specially  required.  He  was  a  personal  friend  of  Erasmus, 
with  whom  he  corresponded ;  and  when  the  Spanish  ecclesiastics 


336 


THE  PROTESTANT  REVOLUTION 


U90^7 


Spaniili 
Lnther- 


made  a  violent  attack  upon  the  writings  of  the  famous  sdncbs 
and  endeavored  to  have  them  prohibited  by  the  Inquisitioo  he 
successfully  exercised  his  influence  to  prevent  such  a  pwsaip- 
tion.    He  was  more  Erasmian,  said  his  friends,  than  Erasmos. 
His  career  was  cut  short  by  his  death  from  the  plague  at  Vienna. 
To  the  teachings  of  Juan  Vald6s  at  Naples  we  have  already  paid 
some  attention.    Perhaps  the  foremost  among  the  Erasmists  who 
remained  in  Spain  was  Juan  de  Vergai;^  (1492-1557),  a  man 
renowned  for  his  culture  ana  scholarly  attainments,  whom  we 
have   already    noticed    in    our   study   of    Spanish   humanism. 
Ximenes  appointed  him  professor  of  philosophy  in  the  Umve^ 
sity  of  Alcala  and  employed  him  upon  the  great  Polyglot  Bible. 
He  helped  to  lay  the  foundations  of  historical  criticism.     When 
the  reaction  against  Erasmus  set  in  he  was  imprisoned  for  four 
years.    His  brother,  Francisco  de  Vergara  (?-i545),  was  also 
a  scholar  who  came  under  the  influence  of  Erasmus.    He  was 
the  author  of  the  first  Greek-Spanish  grammar,  and  he  trans- 
lated Heliodorus  into  his  native  tongue.    Alonso  de  Viru&  was 
another   Spanish  humanist  who  suffered   for  his  devotion  to 
Erasmus.    He  was  the  favorite  preacher  of  Charles  V  and  it 
was  envy  of  his  position  that  inspired  the  charges  made  against 
him!    Passages  that  smacked  of  heresy  were  picked  from  his 
sermons  and  quoted  against  him.    For  four  years  he  remained 
in  prison  and  then  in  1537  having  been  required  to  abjure  the 
views  pronounced  heretical  he  was  secluded  in  a  convent     But 
in  the  following  year  the  emperor  obtained  from  the  pope  a  brief 
that  set  the  sentence  aside. 

So  deep  and  fanatical  were  the  religious  feelings  and  beliefs 
of  the  mass  of  the  Spanish  people  in  the  sixteenth  century  that 
there  never  was  any  prospect  that  the  Protestant  ideas  would  get 
a  firm  footing  in  the  peninsula.  The  spread  of  heresv  was  com- 
paratively unimpnrt;^nf  and  it  never  constitu*-^d  ^  fpj^l  Hnnflf*^ 
Fo  Catholicism.  Yet  here  and  there  were  to  be  found  Spaniards 
who  accepted  the  fundamental  doctrine  of  Lutheranism.  The 
earliest  action  of  the  Inquisition  to  check  the  spread  of  the  Prot- 
estant ideas  was  probably  taken  in  1527;  but  for  some  years  the 
efforts  of  that  institution  to  stamp  out  Lutheranism  was  limited  to 
foreigners.  Every  divergence,  no  matter  how  slight,  from  the 
established  usages  or  dogmas,  and  even  casual  speech  that  savored 
of  heterodoxy,  was  classified  by  the  Inquisition  as  **  Lutheran- 
ism." Yet  despite  this  fact  very  few  cases  of  Protestantism  were 
brought  to  light.  This  in  itself  is  proof  of  the  fact  that  Prot- 
estantism made  little  impression  south  of  the  Pyrenees.  Only  a 
few  individuals,  most  of  whom  had  lived  in  more  northern  lands, 


HERESY  IN  THE  NORTH  AND  SOUTH  337 

can  be  said  to  have  been  inoculated  with  the  germs  of  heresy,  ^q' 
The  first  Spaniard  about  whose  heresy  there  is  apparently  no  «i— - 
doubt  was  Franf^'«^^  '^  §an-Roman  (?-it^A2)  of  Burgos.  His  **•••*••• 
business  afi^irs  obliged  him  to  live  in  the  Netherlands  for  some 
years  and  then  they  sent  him  to  Bremen  where  he  became  a 
Lutheran.  So  ardently  was  he  devoted  to  his  new  faith  that  at 
Ratisbon  he  attempted  to  convert  the  Emperor.  He  was  sent 
to  Spain  and  there,  first  of  the  Spanish  Protestants  so  to  suffer 
because  of  their  faith,  he  was  burned  at  the  stake.  Another 
Spaniard  who  accepted  the  doctrine  of  justification  by  faith  was 
J"^*^  rtf  ^1^*  ( ?-i546)  who  studied  for  thirteen  years  in 
Paris  and  subsequently  lived  for  some  months  in  Geneva  where 
he  entered  into  friendly  relations  with  Calvin.  In  1546,  at  the 
instigation  of  his  brother,  he  was  assassinated  in  Austria  because 
of  his  religious  views.  JSime  de  Enzinas  (1520?-!  547),  bom  at 
Burgos  of  wealthy  and  illustrious  parents,  was  one  of  Calvin's 
innumerable  correspondents.  In  1547  he  was  burned  at  Rome. 
The  most  ardent  wish  of  his  brother,  Francisco  de  Enzinas 
(i520?-5o),  was  to  sit  at  the  feet  of  Melanchthon.  The  wish 
was  gratified,  for  in  1541  he  entered  the  University  of  Witten- 
berg and  lived  in  Melanchthon*s  house.  There  he  was  engaged 
principally  in  translating  the  New  Testament  from  the  Gfeek 
into  Spanish.  In  a  treatise  that  appeared  about  1547  he  severely 
criticized  the  pope  and  the  decrees  of  the  first  year  of  the  Coun- 
cil of  Trent 

The  first  place  in  Spain  in  which  the  Lutherans  gathered  to- 
gether for  the  purposes  of  mutual  encouragement,  worship,  or 
the  planning  of  a  propaganda,  was  Seville.    The  first  important 
member  of  the  little  Protestant  circle  in 'that  city  was  Doctor  HMMjat 
Egidio    (P-I556),  the  magistral,  or   preaching,   canon   of   the  **^  ^ 
cathedral  who  was  noted  for  his  scholarship  and  his  eloquence.  ^fJl^V^ 
His  teachings  and  those  of  Rodrigo  de  Valero  resulted  in  the  ^(JJM'*''^ 
formation  of  the  little  group.    He  died  in  1556  before  the  storm 
burst;  though  four  years  later  his  bones  were  exhumed  and 
burned.    Constantino  Ponce  de  la  Fuente   (1500-60),  a  noted 
Greek  and  Hebrew  scholar  who  succeeded  Egidio  as  preaching 
canon  of  the  cathedral,  became  the  next  leader.     Every  inmate 
of  the  Geronimite  house  of  San  Isidro,  one  of  the  meeting  places 
of  the  cirde,  became  a  Lutheran  as  well  as  some  of  the  mem- 
bers of  the  Geronimite  nunnery  of  Santa  Paula.    The  group 
contained  laymen  as  well  as  clerics.    Indeed,  every  stratum  of 
society,  from  nobles  to  rag-pickers  was  represented  in  the  in- 
creasing circle  which  eventually  numbered  about  one  hundred 
and  twenty  members.    After  a  more  or  less  inconsequential  in- 


338  THE  PROTESTANT  REVOLUTION 


* 


f 


<^^*     quiry  the  Inquisition  began  a  second  investigation  in  15579  aai 
Uien  the  prisons  hegaji  to  be  populated.    The  rdentless  crudlj 

16S0*1600  ^^jj  ^hich  the  Jewish  and  Modern  faiths  had  been  persecutd 
was  now  turned  against  the  Protestants.  The  greater  nundxr 
of  the  heretics  were  put  to  death  privately;  but  at  times,  when 
a  sufficient  number  of  cases  had  accumulated,  there  was  hdd  at 
|.  auto-de-fL  (an  act  of  faith),  a  spectacular  ceremony,  whose 
culmination  was  the  burning  of  the  condemned,  which  the  In- 
quisition employed  to  spread  terror  in  the  hearts  of  the  people 
It  was  a  great  pageant,  an  impressive  public  ceremony,  tibai 
loomed  large  in  the  imagination  of  men.  The  first  of  the  autos' 
de-fS  at  Seville,  in  which  fourteen  persons  were  put  to  death, 
was  held  in  September,  1559,  in  the  presence,  so  it  seemed,  of 
all  Andalusia;  a  second,  in  which  ten  persons  suffered  martyr 
dom,  was  held  in  December,  1560;  and  a  third  in  April,  1562 
Thus  was  Protestantism  in  Seville  almost  completely  eradicated. 
While  the  investigation  was  going  on  in  Seville  a  similar  group 
of  Lutherans  was  brought  to  light  in  Valladolid  at  which  place 

HteMFt*  the  court  was  then  residing.  It  was  through  the  efforts  of 
CarlosdeSeso,  an  Italian  who  had  been  won  over  to  the  Lu- 
tTiereaiT  doctnhe  about  1550,  perhaps  by  the  writings  of  Juan 
de  Valdes,  that  heresy  began  to  spread  abroad  in  the  temporary 
capital.  The  most  important  conversion  was  made  when  Pedro 
Cazalla  (1524-59),  and  his  sister,  Beatrix  de  Vivero,  induced 
their  brother  Doctor  Augustin  Cazalla  (1510-59),  to  accept  Ae 
Protestant  ideas!  he  was  the  favorite  preacher  of  Charles  V, 
who  once  had  taken  him  to  Germany,  and  he  wielded  a  g^reat  in- 
fluence in  every  stratum  of  society.  Next  to  him  the  most  im- 
portant acquisition  to  the  hereticsd  g^oup  was  probably  that  of 
Domingo  de  Rojas  (1519-59),  a  Dominican  friar,  who  enjoyed 
a  wide  reputation  for  his  learning  and  his  eloquence.  His  con- 
version was  followed  by  that  of  his  brother  and  also  by  that  of  his 
nephew  who  was  the  heir  to  the  marquisate  of  Pozo.  Men  of  all 
ranks,  from  the  highest  to  the  lowest,  w^re  included  in  the  little 
band;  though  at  the  most  they  probably  did  not  number  more^ 
than  three  scor^.  Strangely  enough  the  propaganda  was 
earned  on  for  two  or  three  years  without  its  being  detected 
The  first  auto-de-fS  for  the  punishment  of  heresy  in  Spain  was 
held  in  May,  1559,  in  the  Plaza  Mayor.  Fifteen  persons  were 
committed  to  the  flames.  At  the  second  auto  held  in  Valladolid, 
at  which  Philip  II  himself  was  present,  thirteen  persons  were 
burnt.  The  discovery  at  Seville  did  not  create  much  excitement; 
but  this  one  at  the  court,  in  which  a  number  of  eminent  persons 
were  involved,  seemed  most  foreboding.    Then,  too,  Valdfe,  the 


HERESY  IN  THE  NORTH  AND  SOUTH 


qnisitor-geiieral,  made  the  most  of  it    He  was  about  to  be     ^ 
isgraced  and  so  he  seized  the  opportunity  of  the  discovery,     — 
tagnified  the  danger,  and  caused  it  to  create  a  far  greater  im-  **^^^ 
ression  upon  the  court  than  did  the  more  serious  situation  at 
eville.    Isolated  cases  of  heresy  were  discovered  and  punished 
•om  time  to  tim^  though  more  and  more  they  were  found  to  be 
F  foreign  origin. 

There  were  a  number  of  translations  of  the  Bible  into  Spanish 
nd  the  various  dialects  of  the  peninsula.  One  into  Catalan,  nt^ 
lade  by  Bonifacio  Ferrer,  was  printed  in  1478  in  Valencia. 
Tien  Francisco  de  Enzinas,  as  we  have  seen,  translated  the  New 
*cstament  into  Spanish.  Juan  Perez,  as  we  shall  see,  made  a 
imilar  translation ;  while  Cipriano  de  Valera  and  Cassiodoro  de 
leina  did  not  a  little  to  perfect  the  Spanish  version  of  the  Scrip. 
ires.  The  use  made  by  the  heretics  of  the  Bible  in  the  vemacu- 
ir  caused  it  to  be  prohibited  by  the  Index  of  1551  which  placed 
le  ban  even  upon  fragments  and  extracts,  no  matter  how  ortho- 
ox  the  translation.  Yet  despite  all  the  precautions  of  the  In- 
uisition  many  copies  were  smuggled  into  the  country. 

Among  the  Spanish  Protestants  who  succeeded  in  escaping 
rom  their  country  was  Juan  Perez  (1500?-!  567)  who  had  been  Tte 
ic  rector  of  the  College  of  Doctrine  in  Seville,  a  municipal  in-  ••'■•' 
dtution  devoted  to  the  education  of  youth.    For  four  years  he 
oured  forth  many  writings  from  Geneva,  including  his  transla- 
on  of  the  New  Testament  from  Greek  into  Spanish,  many 
opies  of  which  were  smuggled  into  Spain.    In  1558  the  num* 
er  of  refugee  Spaniards  in  Geneva  was  so  large  that  they  were 
iven  the  use  of  the  church  of  St  Germain,  and  Perez  was  ap- 
ointed  as  their  preacher.    Another  notable  exile  was  Cipriano 
e  Valera,  one  of  the  friars  of  San  Isidro,  who  translated  Cai- 
rn 8  Innuutes  into  Spanish  and  edited  the  complete  Spanish 
;ible. 

The  greatest  ecclesiastic  in  Spain  at  this  time  was  Bartolome 
e  Carranza  (1503-76),  a  Dominican  friar,  renowned  for  both 
is  learning  and  his  exemplary  character,  who  in  1557  had  be- 
jme  archbishop  of  Toledo,  and,  therefore,  primate  of  Spain,  oama 
le  aroused  the  animosity  of  some  bishops  whom  he  compelled 
)  reside  in  their  sees,  he  incurred  the  jealousy  of  Valdes,  the 
iquisitor-general ;  and  Melchor  Cano,  the  greatest:  Spanish 
leologian  of  the  time,  a  member  of  his  own  order  and  greatly 
iiperior  to  him  in  intellect,  regarded  him  as  his  rival.  So, 
espite  the  activity  of  Carranza  against  heresy,  and  despite  his 
lany  claims  to  reverence,  he  was  arrested  by  tihe  Inquisition  in 
559  and  imprisoned.    In  some  aspects  the  imprisonment  and 


340  THE  PROTESTANT  BEVOLUTION 


trial  of  Carranza  was  the  most  important  act  of  the  InqtiisitiDa 
All  the  eyes  of  Catholic  Europe  were  turned  upon  it  Ptoor 
ioos-7e  Carranza  was  a  muddy  thinker  and  an  impulsive  speaker.  Blanj 
of  his  utterances  were  interpreted  in  a  manner  he  had  never 
intended.  At  a  most  unfortunate  m(»nent  he  issued  his  Com- 
mentaries on  the  Catechism,  a  rambling  and  discursive  folio, 
in  which  are  many  statements  that,  taken  by  themselves,  savor 
of  heresy,  but  which  later  on  are  modified  or  omtradicted. 
After  he  was  thrown  into  prison  the  revenue  from  his  property 
other  than  that  retained  by  the  Inquisition  for  the  expenses  of 
the  trial,  was  enjoyed  by  Philip  II.  Over  the  trickery  of  die 
protracted  trial,  even  were  it  profitable  to  do  so,  there  is  not 
time  to  dwell.  After  eight  years'  imprisonment  he  was  taken 
to  Rome  at  the  command  of  Pius  V.  The  case  was  not  con- 
cluded when,  five  years  later,  the  pope  died.  Under  Grq^oiy 
XIII  the  trial  was  once  more  resumed.  Sixteen  propositioos 
extracted  from  his  book  were  declared  to  be  hereticaL  These 
he  was  required  to  abjure.  A  fortnight  later,  broken  in  health 
by  seventeen  years  of  imprisonment,  the  enfeebled  prelate  sud- 
denly died. 

In  Portugal  there  were  a  few  humanists  with  leanings  towards 

heresy  and  a  number  of  foreigners  whose  orthodoxy  was  doiAt- 

Tii«R«-       ful,  but  there  was  never  any  prospect  of  the  success  of  Protes- 

Mvmeat  h^nt  ideas.    Yet  an  Inquisition,  based  upon  the  Spanish  modd, 


^porta-  kvas  established  in  that  country.  Several  reasons  account  for 
'this.  The  great  increase  of  Portuguese  commerce  and  colonial 
enterprise  drew  the  peasants  from  the  farms,  and,  as  the  mer- 
chants were  largely  exempt  from  taxation,  there  were  few  left 
to  pay  the  taxes.  So,  although  the  Portuguese  were  the  richest 
people  in  Europe,  the  king  was  daily  getting  poorer.  John  III 
(1526-57)  knew  that  the  confiscations  in  Spain  were  a  prolific 
source  of  income  and  he  determined  to  employ  the  same  expedi- 
ent. His  wife,  Catalina,  sister  of  Charles  V,  also  exercised  a 
powerful  influence  in  behalf  of  an  inquisition.  On  December 
17,  1 53 1,  the  papal  bull  Cum  ad  nihil,  which  created  the  Inquisi- 
tion of  Lisbon,  was  issued.  But  the  wealthy  Jews  were  able  to 
delay  the  operation  of  the  institution.  In  sixteen  years  the  king 
paid  $1,500,000  to  the  curia  to  hasten  the  inquisitorial  activity, 
while  the  Jews  expended  even  a  larger  sum,  in  Lisbon  as  well  as 
in  Rome,  to  delay  it.  At  last,  in  1547,  the  bull  Meditatio  cordis 
put  the  Inquisition  under  way.  Three  tribunals,  Lisbon,  Evora, 
and  Coimbra,  were  established.  Up  to  1580  when  Philip  II  con- 
quered the  country  these  tribunals  had  turned  over  to  the  secu- 
lar authority  for  death  by  fire  about  one  hundred  and  sixty 


HERESY  IN  THE  NORTH  AND  SOUTH  341 


yenoos,  and  they  had  subjected  about  two  thousand  others  to 
wiance.  Yet  all  this  activity  had  very  little  to  do  with  Protes- 
^ffrisnir  Most  of  it  was  directed  against  the  Jews.  The  single  ^•^^•^••^ 
leretic  of  importance  with  whom  it  dealt  was  Damiao  de  Goes 
(i5io?-73),  the  greatest  Portuguese  scholar  of  the  century, 
9rho,  after  having  lived  six  years  in  Antwerp,  traveled  in  Ger- 
many, spent  some  months  with  Erasmus  at  Freiburg,  and  then 
lived  at  Padua.  In  1545  he  returned  to  Portugal.  After  being 
twice  unsuccessfully  denounced  to  the  Inquisition  he  was  ar- 
rested in  1 57 1  upon  a  third  charge  and  condemned  to  perpetual 
imprisonment  The  king  secured  a  mitigation  of  the  sentence 
to  seclusion  in  the  convent  of  Batalha.  Not  long  afterwards  he 
died  in  his  own  home.  By  the  time  Philip  II  became  master  of 
Portugal  all  traces  of  heresy  had  disappeared,  but  the  process 
>f  stunting  the  intellectual  development  of  the  country  was  con- 
tinued with  increased  vigor  and  the  general  condition  of  the 

people  became  most  deplorable.  .-     .  -| 

There  are  several  reasons  why  Protestantism  gained  no  real^^Ou^ 
foothold  in  these  Mediterranean  lands.    The  most  fundamental  wLyPra^ 
one  is  perhaps  to  be  found  in  the  Latin  character.    The  ^motional.  2!j}!i!l{" 
religion  of  these  Romanic  races  has  always  involved  IggsJoLihs  fj^hrfd 
ethical  tissusot^iiiBn  that  of  the  northern  peoples;  and  it  is  not  ibUmm 
en  parmwiy  y^nrprned  with  doeuML,   The  temper  of  Italy,  Spam",  lSKT** 
and  Portugal  differs  greatly  from  that  ol  the  Teutonic  nations. 
It  requires  the  g»Q<^  ftfnai  f^f  \\^^  fafViniiV  phnr/-}^  jn  which 


motioiris  cmbodieHm  symbolism.  The  appealing  pageantry  oi 
Bdb  and  music,  of  flowers  and  incense,  of  shimmering  vestment 
and  lighted  taper,  of  processions  with  the  crucifix  held  aloft, 
Df  the  rosary  and  of  the  miracle  of  the  mass,  penetrates  to  the 
heart  even  of  the  confirmed  believer  in  private  judgment.  Then, 
as  we  have  seen,  the  cdd^  ^^  t^^  Ttalian^  i"  the  possnsift"  ^f 
the  Papacy,  the  connection  of  Jheir  materiaMnterests  with  the 
curia,  and  the  anti-Itali4flLjefilj^[j)f  the^German  reformei^  all 
tend6d*to  prevent  the  favorable  reception  ot  the'Protestant  ideas 
in  the  peninsula.  Many  of  the  Italians  who  found  themselves 
unable  longer  to  subscribe  to  the  dogmas  of  the  Qiurch  declined 
to  follow  either  the  Lutheran  or  the  Calvinistic  movement. 
Their  rationalism,  which  was,  however,  in  many  cases  light,  flip- 
pant, and  skeptical,  prevented  their  association  with  any  such 
new  orthodoxies.  The  majority  of  the  Italians  and  Iberians 
were  steeped  in  the  old  orthodoxy,  which,  in  the  case  of  the 
latter,  sai^  into  fanaticism.  They  saw  in  the  innovations  only 
danger  to  their  countries.  And  while  the  Germans  were  goaded 
to  desperation  by  the  financial  exactions  of  the  Papacy  the  Span- 


343 


THE  PROTESTANT  REVOLUTION 


1600 


/ 


I 


iards  and  Portuguese  were  b^finning  to  loot  the  treasures  of  the 
newly-discovered  continent.  Some  of  the  mediating  reformers 
of  Italy  and  some  of  the  humanists  of  Spain  leaned  perceptibly 
toward  the  Protestant  heresy.  For  those  who  overstepped  ibt 
bounds  of  Catholicism  and  for  the  heretical  foreigners  who  ven- 
tured within  the  Mediterranean  lands  there  were  devised  the 


CHAPTER  XVIII 

THE  RESULTS  OF  THE  PROTESTANT  REVOLUTION 

.    The  Results  to  Faith  and  Worship   (the  New  State  Churches,  the 

Sects,  the  Growth  of  Free  Thought,  the  Rise  of  Tolerance). 
.    The  Results  to  Morals. 
.    The  Results  to  Education. 
.    The  Results  to  Government. 
.    The  Revolution  Incomplete. 

[T7E  are  to  deal  here  only  with  the  immediate  results  of  the     CTAp. 
W    Protestant  Revolution,  not  with  its  more  remote  conse-     •*'^"* 
uences,  with  its  direct  results  to  faith  and  worship,  to  morals,  w*5.ieoo 
D  education,  and  to  government. 

First,  then,  as  to  its  immediate  results  to  faith  and  worship: 
t  produced  new  state  churches  —  the  Lutheran  Qiurches,  the 
^Ivinistic  Qiurches.  and  the  Ang:lican  Qiurch.  The  definite 
eparation  between  Catholic  and  Protestants  was  not  simulta-  otMxtim 
eous  with  the  first  public  appearance  of  the  earliest  of  the  lead- 
ig  reformers.  The  opinions  of  the  new  leaders  did  not  at  first 
ike  upon  themselves  a  definite  character.  For  a  time  it  seemed 
ot  improbable  that  a  compromise  between  the  conflicting  doc- 
rines  might  be  concluded.  But  with  the  opening  of  the  second 
uarter  of  the  sixteenth  century  all  reasonable  hope  of  such  a  re- 
onciliation  vanished.  Then,  in  the  Lutheran  lands,  the  religion  i 
f  the  individual  was  made  subject  to  the  control  of  the  ruler.  \ 
Jnder  the  direction  of  the  princes  and  free  cities,  into  whose 
!rritory  Lutheranism  had  found  its  way,  territorial  churches  — 
rere  organized.  The  lava  stream  of  religious  revolution  began 
>  congeal.  There  were  to  be  as  many  Lutheran  churches  as 
lere  were  Lutheran  princes  and  Lutheran  free  cities.  Princes 
1  their  provinces  and  magistrates  in  their  municipaUties  as- 
umed  control  of  the  outward  fabric  of  the  Qiurch  and  even 
ecame  directors  of  its  intemariife.  They  decided  thedogical 
[>ntroversies  and  repressed  dissensions  with  secular  force. 
4itheranism  had  to  make  its  way  into  the  definite  structure  of 
le  social  and  political  order.  Having  cut  itself  loose  from  the 
apathy  of  the  masses  by  its  action  in  the  Social  Revolution  it 
new  that  its  future  depended  very  largely  upon  the  success  with 
hich  it  conciliated  the  various  rulers.    So  it  set  up  no  united 

343 


344  THE  PROTESTANT  REVOLUTION 


^SS:     church.    Instead  there  were  some  two  hundred  separate  oonsth 

tutions  of  churches  that  subscribed  to  the  Augsbuxig^  Confessioa 

1M5-1000  3^^}J  ^3g  ^^  consequence  of  the  alienation  of  the  people  and  the 
particularism  of  the  princes.  But  there  is  one  other  cause  to  be 
considered.  For  a  long  time,  as  we  have  seen,  the  Lutheran 
reformers  attempted  to  maintain  their  allq^iance  to  the  Mother 
Church.  It  is  true  they  adopted  a  reformed  omstitution;  but 
they  always  counted  upon  a  future  decision  in  their  favor  by  a 
general  council.  They  therefore  regarded  the  organization  of 
their  followers  as  but  a  temporary  matter.  The  numerous 
Lutheran  churches  naturally  had  certain  uniform  characteristics, 
and  the  d^ree  of  their  dependence  upon  the  State  varied  but 
slightly  f  rcHn  one  province  to  another.  Their  theologians  and 
preachers  were  me^ffly  ar^yjsers  to  their  respeptiy*^  prin<^  and 
magistrates,  in  ^he  Scandinavian  countries  as  well  as  in  the 
German  States.  This  condition  of  affairs,  so  Capito  declared  in 
1540,  had  been  willed  by  Christ  himself.  "The  prince  is  die 
shepherd/'  he  said,  "the  father,  the  head  of  the  Church  00 
earth."  But  it  was  a  condition  that  reduced  spiritual  freedom 
to  the  minimum.  Under  the  dominion  of  political  rulers  the 
democratic  beginnings  of  Lutheranism  were  forgotten.  The  at- 
tempt  to  return  to  the  original  condition  of  the  primitive  Chris- 
tian community  was  resigned  when  the  compromise  with  die 
princes  was  concluded.  And  this  identification  with  the  partici- 
larism  of  the  time  hindered  the  spread  of  the  new  faith  in 
Teutonic  lands  and  caused  the  splendid  promise  of  its  birth  to 
degenerate  into  a  condition  that  was  in  many  respects  petty  and 
unedifying. 
There  were,  likewise,  a  number  of  Calvinistic  churches.  In 
Tii«Ofti-  addition  to  that  of  Geneva  there  was  a  church  in  France,  one 
JjJ^®  in  the  northern  provinces  of  the  Netherlands,  one  in  Scodand, 
cimrcbM  others  in  the  Zwinglian  cantons  of  Switzerland,  where  Calvin's 
teaching  was  gradually  superseding  that  of  the  Swiss  reformer,] 
and  still  others  in  certain  of  the  provinces  and  free  cities  in 
central  and  southern  Germany.  In  these  widely  scattered 
churches  there  was  to  be  found  a  variety  of  discipline  and  even 
of  doctrine.  Zurich,  for  instance,  declined  to  accept  the  austere 
discipline  of  Geneva  and  modified  its  doctrinal  system;  and 
Basel  always  regarded  with  disfavor  the  importance  attached  to 
the  doctrine  of  predestination.  Among  the  German  States  in 
which  Calvinism  came  to  prevail  were  the  Palatinate,  Nassau, 
Anhalt,  Hesse-Cassel,  and  a  number  of  smaller  principalities. 
Most  of  them  issued   separate  and  distinctive  confessions  of 


[E  RESULTS  OF  THE  PROTESTANT  REVOLUTION      345 

many  of  which  were  compromises  between  the  Lutheran     ^Sm 
le  Calvinistic  creeds. 

J  English  revolt  from  Rome,  in  its  method  and  its  results,!  "*^^*^ 
l^ue.    It. was  the  work  of  a  ruler  and  not  of  a_jx£QaBglJyfAn> 
1,  therefore,  no  weli-delinedi  system  ot  theologyTbut  onejffff 
esulted  from  the  operation  of  a  number  of  minds,  one  that^cnrax^ 
failing  to  give  complete  satisfaction  to  any  one  was  found 
able   without   serious    difficulty   by   many.    "  A   govem- 
'  it  has  been  well  said,  "  always  tries  to  strike  an  average, 
udors  did  so  in  England ;  but  an  average  is  anathema  to  all 
nes."    It  was  the  State,  in  England,  and  not  the  Church 
¥as  the  paramount  power.    The  State  compelled  the  re- 
s  revolt    Only  graduallv  was  acquiescence  in  the  change 
id.    The  Anglican  Church  was  frankly  at  the  outset  merely 
isler  of  authority  from  the  pope  to  the  king  despite  the 
liat  its  government  was  carried  on  through  ecclesiastical 
Is. 

irresistible  tide  of  genuine  religious  change  had  swept  wiwtPio- 
\  central  and  northern  Europe;  but  the  various  Lutheran  JJJJjJ^ 
^vinistic  organizations  and  that  of  the  Anglicans  were  all  BtAi« 
ially  state  churches.    Was  this  due  solely  to  political  and 
mic  causes?    Did  it  come  about  solely  from  die  fact  that 
uious  princes  and  magistrates  with  unanimity  of  purpose 
a/»»fn1  pfocedure  took  tx)ssession  of  ecclesiasticaJ  property  ^ 
hen  as  a  result  fminH  t|^fmsp^v<>g  torced  tii.,assumethe 

ISm   of   the    religioiis   life   nf   th^iy   «subject§?  ^Rightly   or 
j[ly  it  is  to  such  naked  considerations  that  the  erection  of 
state  churches  has  been  attributed. 

*  rise  of  a  body  of  state  churches  was  only  one  of  the 
s   of   the    Protestant   Revolution   to   faith   and    worship. 

i^r  Ruc\y  result  w^*=  <^^f|Jlp-springing  of  multitiidinnus  s^cts 

which  were  inspired  and  sustamed  by  the  dream  of  estate 
^  a  community  of  saints  in  the  midst  of  the  errors  and  Tht 
>tion  of  a  degraded  world.    On  all  sides  the  state  churches 
washed  by  the  waves  of  more  or  less  formless  religious 
:tions.    The   leading   reformers   had   substituted    for   the  H 
rity  of  the  medieval  church  the  authority  of  the  Bible.     In  || 
•es  of  the  sixteenth  century  may  be  seen  men  holding  in 
closed,   strong-willed   hands  a   copy  of  the   Bible.    The 
I  consciousness  of   primitive   Protestantism  is  there  ex- 
jd.     But  who  was   to  determine  with  certainty  the  true 
ng  of  the  sacred  texts?    The  reformers  did  not  foresee 
multitudinous  interpretations  of  the  biblical  writings  would 


346 


THE  PROTESTANT  REVOLUTION 


OHAP. 


1048-lMO 


ite4 

Groups  of 
Htrettes 


bapttsU 


arise.  Yet  it  was  inevitable  that  so  heterogeneous  a  book  should 
furnish  the  bases  for  the  most  divergent  doctrines  and  serve  ai 
the  authority  for  widely  sundered  systems.  Every  man  ooold 
find  there  confirmation  of  doctrinal  convictions  bom  in  his  own 
heart.  There,  too,  could  he  find  the  expression  of  his  own 
moral  ideas.  It  was  not  difficult  in  the  Age  of  Faith  to  silence 
dissent.  Terror  was  a  most  effective  weapon  in  those  days. 
Whatever  real  differences  existed  were  often  disguised  beneath 
outward  conformity  to  conventional  symbols.  But  when  men ' 
began  really  to  think,  it  was  inevitable  that  they  should  think 
differently.  Intellectual  freedom  brought  in  its  train  '^  doubt 
and  debate  and  sharp  dissension  "  and  unanimity  became  a  thing 
of  the  past.  Each  one  of  the  innumerable  sects  to  which  the 
individual  interpretation  of  the  scriptural  writings  gave  rise 
deemed  itself  to  be  a  return  to  primitive  Christianity.  But  in 
reality  each  was  a  new  and  spontaneous  theology.  The  illusion 
in  each  case  failed  to  penetrate  to  the  secret  of  the  authentic 
and  moving  power  of  every  new  religion  that  leaves  its  m[ipress 
upon  the  life  of  man  —  the  renewed  and  varied  embodiment  of 
the  ideals  of  the  human  heart,  their  explicit  communication,  and 
their  expression  in  the  life  of  the  faithful.  It  was  among  the 
masses  that  these  sects  were  formed.  Everywhere  groups  of 
common  folk  followed  logically  the  postulates  of  the  new  teach- 
ing, took  literally  Luther's  preaching  of  the  universal  priest- 
hood, and  found  inspiration  and  model  in  the  Waldenses.  They 
organized,  of  course,  in  a  multiplication  of  forms,  and  were 
alike  only  in  the  growing  belief  that  every  man  ripe  enough  for 
judgment  should  be  free  to  choose  his  own  faith.  Absolute  in- 
dividualism was  beginning  to  find  champions.  It  seemed  as 
though  there  were  almost  as  many  sects  as  cities  and  gospels  as 
gossips. 

Chief  among  these  groups,  these  "  Ultras  of  the  Reformation," 
were  those  of  the  Anabaptists,  who  first  appear  about  1522-23 
in  Switzerland.  Their  name,  which  appeared  later,  was  due  to 
their  foes,  to  a  wish  to  bring  them  under  the  penalty  of  death 
prescribed  by  the  old  Roman  law  of  the  Empire  for  a  heresy 
of  that  name.  The  postponement  of  baptism  until  the  indi- 
vidual was  able  to  decide  for  himself,  or  the  rebaptizing  of  the 
individual  when  he  had  become  able  to  reason,  was  with  them, 
but  a  secondary  article  of  faith.  Far  more  fundamental 
their  belief  that  revelation  did  not  cease  with  the  comi 
the  New  Testament,  but  that  day  by  day  the  word 
revealed  to  man,  that  the  divine  revelation  is  vouchsafed  to' 
every  individual,  and  that  it  is  the  only  guide  to  be  followed  in 


with  them 
lental  was! 
ipletion  of] 
of  God  isj 


THE  RESULTS  OF  THE  PROTESTANT  REVOLUTION      347 


the  conduct  of  life.    "  I  esteem  Holy  Scripture,"  said  Hans     55m 

Denck,  the  most  reasonable  and  the  kindest-hearted  of  all  the      

reformers  of  his  century,  "  above  all  human  treasures,  but  not  ^-^^^^^ 
so  highly  as  the  Word  of  God  which  is  living,  powerful,  eternal, 
free  and  independent  of  all  elements  of  this  world:  for  as  it  is 
God  Himself,  so  it  is  spirit  and  not  letter,  and  written  without 
pen  and  paper,  so  that  it  can  never  more  be  blotted  out."  With 
such  a  principle  for  material  the  self-reliant  and  dreamy  Teuton 
could  weave  many  a  curious  fabric.  Upon  such  a  basis  many  a 
fanciful  structure  could  be  erected.  So  it  is  not  a  matter  of 
surprise  that  among  the  Anabaptists  there  should  be  developed 
many  heterogeneous  tendencies.  The  contemporary  Sebastian 
Franck  tells  us.  that  he  never  found  two  of  them  who  agreed 
with  each  other  upon  all  points.  Among  these  various  tend- 
encies the  two  principal  ones  may  be  called  respectively  the 
_spirituaKsti<;  ;^pfj  ^^^#>  myctiVal  tpnfjf;j|^     Both  of  them  started 

from  the  idea  of  continuous  revelation.  But  the  former  de- 
clared the  communications  of  God  to  be  intermittent,  to  come 
only  from  time  to  time  in  visions,  ecstasies,  and  other  similar 
abnormal  emotional  states;  while  the  latter  declared  the  voice 
of  God  to  be  ever  audible  in  the  heart  of  man.  Their  funda- 
mental postulates  made  them  anathema  to  Wittenberg,  Ziirich, 
Geneva,  and  to  Rome  alike.  Some  of  them  held  that  direct 
communion  with  God  made  all  learning  unnecessary,  and  set 
their  seal  of  disapproval  upon  recourse  to  law,  upon  the  taking 
of  oaths,  upon  the  holding  of  civil  office,  and  upon  the  possession 
o(,  private  property.  Thus  such  Anabaptists  as  held  these  views 
made  for  social  revolution,  l^heir  teacnmgs  were  regarded  as  a 
iiasma,  the  master  menace  of  the  time;  the  name  of 
"  Anabaptist "  became  a  common  term  of  opprobrium,  and  rulers 
everywhere  became  bent  upon  their  extinction. 

The  Anabaptists  had  many  leaders.  Some  were  men  of  high 
and  scholarly  attainments,  and  of  these  Balthasar  Hubmaier 
(1480?-!  528)  was  the  foremost.  Hubmaier  had  been  a  pro- 
fessor  of  theology  in  the  University  of  Ingolstadt,  its  vice-rector,  tim 
and  probably  its  actual  director.  He  was  an  eloquent  preacher,  JjS^ 
and  a  man  of  exalted  character,  a  man  as  well-fitted  for  leader- 
ship as  either  Luther  or  Zwingli.  After  leaving  Ingolstadt  he 
became  a  preacher  at  Ratisbon  and  then  at  Waldshut.  From 
the  latter  place  he  made  excursions  across  the  Rhine  and  came 
into  contact  with  some  of  the  Swiss  reformers.  Gradually  he 
changed  his  religious  views  and  left  the  papal  fold.  Later  on, 
about  1525,  he  became  an  Anabaptist.  To  escape  the  Austrians 
he  fled  to  Ziirich,  where,  with  the  connivance  of  Zwingli,  he  was 


348 


THE  PROTESTANT  REVOLUTION 


lM0>liOO 


imprisotied  and  tortured  in  order  to  oompd  him  to  recut  hb  ^ 
radkal  beliefs.  When  he  was  set  free  he  went  to  Mbiaiii, 
from  whence,  two  years  later,  he  was  taken  to  Vienna  snd  \ 
bnmed  at  the  stake.  ff^HJn^'^^^^  (7-1527)  had  studied  at 
the  University  of  Basel  and  then  found  emplqyment  in  one  of 
the  printing  establishments  of  tfuit  city.  From  there  he  went 
to  Nuremberg,  a  center  of  humanism  and  a  forum  of  rdjgiooi 
discussion,  where  he  gradually  became  a  heretic  theokgiuL 
Differing  on  the  subject  of  the  eucharist  from  the  chief  pastor 
of  the  place  he  was  expelled  from  the  city.  Then  he  led  m  rov- 
ing life,  engaging  everywhere  he  went,  with  no  fitde  kamtng 
and  skill,  in  theological  disputation,  and  produdng  by  his  do- 
quence  a  religious  revival.  In  the  three  years  into  whidi  Us 
activity  as  a  religious  leader  was  compressed  he  exerted  a  deq> 
and  wide-spread  influence  not  only  by  his  leamiog  and  his  elo- 
quence but  also  by  his  tender  and  sterling^  character.  **  He  was 
a  quiet,  withdrawn,  and  pious  man,"  srid  Sebastian  Frmdt, 
**  the  leader  and  bishop  of  the  Anabaptists.^  Worn  out  witfffi 
wanderings  he  returned  to  Basel  to  die.  No  other  reformer  of 
his  time  did  so  much  to  emancipate  religion  from  ihe  bonds  of 
theology.  "  I  ask  no  other  result,  God  knows,*'^  he  said,  "  than 
that  as  many  men  as  possible  should  with  one  heart  and  voice 
glorify  the  God  and  Father  of  our  Lord  Jesus  Christ,  whether 
tiiey  be  circumcised,  or  baptized,  or  neither ;  for  I  differ  greatly 
from  those,  whoever  they  may  be,  who  too  much  bind  down  the 
kingdom  of  God  to  ceremonies  and  elements  of  the  world." 
Had  he  lived  longer  he  might  perhaps  have  become  a  construc- 
tive religious  leader  of  the  first  rank  and  have  exercised  a  due 
control  over  the  disintegrating  forces  of  Anabaptism.  Little  is 
known  of  the  early  history  of  Melchior  Hofmann  (1498?* 
i533)»  a  Swabian  furrier,  who  after  preaching  "the  true 
gospel"  in  Scandinavian  lands  and  on  the  southern  shores 
of  the  Baltic,  and  sowing  there  the  seeds  of  social  revolu- 
tion, left  those  lands  for  central  and  southern  Germany  and 
the  northern  Netherlands,  inspiring  millenarian  hopes  in  the 
hearts  of  his  followers.  Among  the  most  prominent  of  Hof- 
mann's  disciples  was  Jan  Mathys  (  ?-i534),  a  baker  of  Haarlem, 
who  announced  himself  as  the  Enoch  of  the  new  r%ime*  He 
chose  twelve  apostles  to  carry  on  a  propaganda  in  the  neighbor- 
ing provinces.  Chief  of  these  was  Jan  of  Leyden  (?-iS3S),  a 
wandering  tailor  whose  travels  had  extended  "  from  Lubeck  to 
Lisbon,"  a  licentious  rogue,  a  cruel  fanatic,  audacious,  skilful, 
and  brave.    After  these  men  met  their  death,  David  Joris  ( 1501- 


THE  RESULTS  OF  THE  PROTESTANT  REVOLUTION     349 


56),  a  glass-painter  of  Delft,  became  a  leader  among  the  Ana-     ^1^ 

baptists  by  reason  of  the  fact  that  he  succeeded  in  bringing  the     

various  divisions  in  the  Low  Countries  to  a  working  agreement,  *•*•-*••• 
although  even  there  they  were  never  unified.    Yet  it  was  not  long 
before  his  followers  fell  into  two  groups,  one  of  which  lived  a 
decorous  life  while  members  of  the  other  abandoned  themselves 
to  fanatical  excesses,  especially  promiscuous  sexual  indulgence. 

Under  such  leaders  it  was  that  the  varied  and  often  conflicting  Tht 
views  that  have  been  given  the  misleading  general  term  of  Ana-  ^Jjjf 
baptism  rapidly  spread  in  Germany,  Switzerland,  and  Holland,  of  tt« 
finding  themselves  welcome  everywhere  by  the  oppressed  classes, 
forming  isolated  groups  that  obeyed  no  central  direction  either 
for  defense  or  offense,  requiring  the  acceptance  of  no  general 
creed,  permitting  the  greatest  variety  of  practice,  and,  unhappily,  1 
sometimes  mingling  with  their  message  of  the  value  of  spiritual  I 
intuition  and  the  consecration  of  daily  life  a  fanatical  or  an  im-  I 
moral  strain.    Their  fundamental  idea  was  one  far  in  advance! 
of  their  age,  a  truth  that  is  slowly  but  surely  winning  its  way 
in  the  world  of  men. 

The  Anabaptists  were  subjected  to  incredible  persecution.  A I 
contemporary  was  able  to  say  that  such  streams  of  Anabaptist! 
blood  were  shed  for  the  sake  of  religion  "  that  if  so  much  blood 
of  beasts  had  been  poured  forth,  men  would  undoubtedly  have 
been  horrified.  .  .  .  More  than  thirty  thousand  men  in  some 
thirty  years  have  been  killed  for  their  religion  by  the  command 
of  one  single  man."  Everywhere  from  the  Baltic  to  the  Alps,  ©SlrtM* 
from  Hungary  to  Holland,  they  were  slaughtered  like  sheep 
after  being  subjected  to  the  cruelest  torture.  "  Like  owls  and 
bitterns,"  were  those  in  Moravia  who  escaped,  says  a  contem- 
porary chronicle;  "they  dared  not  go  abroad  by  day,  but  lived 
and  crouched  in  rocks  and  caverns,  in  wild  forest,  in  caves  and 
pits."  It  was  at  Miinster  that  a  revolutionary  program  of  a 
remnant  of  the  Anabaptists  left  by  the  rigorous  persecution  re- 
ceived a  formidable  demonstration.  Gaining  the  concession  of 
l^;al  security  in  the  city,  some  of  the  surviving  Anabaptists 
made  thousands  of  additional  converts  there,  and  were  rein- 
forced by  crowds  of  their  felk)w-believers  who  came  pouring  in 
from  Holland  and  the  near-by  German  towns.  With  the 
**  saints  "  came  many  a  sinner  seeking  to  profit  by  the  promised 
distribution  of  property.  Mathys  went  there  and  later  Jan  of 
Leyden.  It  was  very  largely  if  not  entirely  under  the  stress  of 
the  long  siege  to  which  the  city  was  subjected  that  the  vagaries 
of  some  of  the  most  reckless  were  perpetrated.    The  goods  of 


350 


THE  PROTESTANT  REVOLUTION 


ABtt-Trln- 


the  unbelieving  were  .eonfiscated,  the  accessories  of  ritualistic 
worship  were  destroyed,  simplicity  of  wearing  apparel  was  en- 
1M6-1000  joined,  and,  though  not  without  opposition  on  the  part  of  those 
who  did  not  desire  to  see  their  morality  thus  polluted  (opposi- 
tion that  resulted  in  bloodshed)  polygamy  was  practised  by 
some  of  the  leaders.  All  of  these  things  were  intended  to  pre- 
pare for  the  impending  coming  of  Christ  It  was  this  idea  of 
the  approaching  advent  of  the  Nazarene,  a  belief  common  to 
the  time,  together  with  a  reign  of  terror  established  by  Jan  of 
Leyden,  that  enabled  the  Anabaptists  in  Miinster  to  endure  the 
miseries  of  a  siege  of  sixteen  months.  At  last,  by  means  of 
treachery,  the  desolate  town  was  taken,  many  of  the  defenders 
were  slaughtered,  and  Jan  of  Leyden,  after  being  publicly  tor- 
tured in  the  market-place,  was  put  to  death.  The  various 
divisions  of  the  dispersed  Anabaptists  gradually  sloughed  off 
the  undesirable  elements  of  their  beliefs,  and  in  the  succeeding 
centuries  their  teachings  have  given  rise  to  many  religious  groups 
characterised  by  notable  spiritual  power. 

The  Revolution  gave  a  powerful  impetus  to  thought  upon  re- 
ligious matters.  Such  thought  carried  men  far.  It  was  not 
possible  to  put  a  limit  to  a  movement  that  was  itself  illimitable. 
Individuality  had  broken  through  the  fetters  of  authority  and 
tradition.  Who  icould  say  to  tfie  individual:  Thus  far  shalt 
thou  go,  but  no  further?  It  is  not  surprising,  then,  that  we 
come  upon  tendencies  that  went  beyond  the  bounds  of  Protes- 
tantism. Among  the  radical  dissenters  from  the  creeds  of  the 
established  churches  were  the  "  Anti-Trinitarians,"  whose  here- 
sies were  called  Arianism  until  they  became  known  as  Socinian- 
ism.  Theirs  was  a  rationalistic  stream  of  thought  that  flowed 
into  central  Europe  from  the  south.  Refugees  from  the  Medi- 
terranean lands  found  their  way  up  the  valley  of  the  Rhone  and 
over  the  passes  of  the  Alps  sedcing  a  place  in  which  their  views 
would  be  tolerated,  but  Ending  it  only  in  the  remote  countries 
that  lay  on  the  outskirts  of  civilization,  in  Poland  and  Transyl- 
vania. They  found  Geneva,  as  well  as  other  centers  of  Protes- 
tantism, to  be  no  harbor  of  refuge  but  merely  a  citadel  of 
theology  equal  in  its  intolerance  to  that  from  which  they  had 
fled.  AH  of  them  were  highly  educated  and  cultured  men, 
physicians,  lawyers  and  teachers.  Endowed  with  a  strong  sense 
of  individuality,  caring  nothing  for  historic  continuity,  they 
broke  completely  with  all  of  the  established  churches,  and  ap- 
parently had  no  great  desire  to  organize  the  loose  band  of  fol- 
lowers that  gathered  about  each  of  them  into  a  definite  church. 
A  hymn  of  our  own  day  gives  voice  to  their  faith. 


THE  RESULTS  OF  THE  PROTESTANT  REVOLUTION      351 


"One  thought  I  have,  my  ample  creed,  ^^^^^      Sm 

So  deep  it  is  and  broad,  

And  equal  to  my  every  need, —  iMweoo 

It  is  the  thought  of  God." 

Being  essentially  individual  and  intellectual,  their  ideas  did  not 
make  a  wide  appeal.  Their  speculations  were  by  no  means  en- 
tirely new.  Very  early  in  the  history  of  Christianity  men  with 
similar  thoughts,  Sabellians  and  Arians,  had  appeared;  and  a 
long  though  intermittent  line  of  them  may  be  traced  through  the 
Middle  Ages. 

Among  the  earliest  of  these  bold  and  wandering  heretics  was 
Campanus   (i5CX)?~i578),  who  sought  by  means  of  the  figure 
01   marriage  to  make  tfie  mystery  of  the  Trinity  intelligible.  AntipTxiii- 
There  are  in  God,  he  said,  but  two  persons,  the  Father  and  the  ^Sw 
Son,  and  they  are  united  each  with  the  other  as  are  husband  and 
wife  in  matrimony.    The  pathetic  story  of  Servetus  (i5ii?-53)  I 
has  already  been  told.    It  is  not  with  the  fate  of  this  solitary  I 
thinker  that  we  are  here  concerned  but  with  his  faith,  a  strange 
commingling  of  rationalism  and  mysticism.    His  rationalism  was 
that  of  the  Latin  heretic ;  his  mysticism  was  derived  from  Neo- 
Platonism.    His  conception  of  God  was  essentially  pantheistic. 
Jesus,  he  believed,  was  the  son  of  God.    In  him  the  essence  of 
the  Godhead  was.  actually  and  bodily  present    But  the  exist- 
ence of  the  Galilean  began  with  his  earthly  conception  and  birth. 
Previous  to  that  his  personality  existed  only  in  the  mind  of  God. 
Matteo  Gribaldo   (?-i564),  a  jurist  from  Padua  who  was  a 
resident  of  Geneva  when  Servetus  was  put  to  death,  incurred 
the  wrath  of  Calvin  by  his  outspoken   condemnation  of  the 
judicial  murder.    He  could  conceive  the  divine  nature,  he  said, 
only  as  two  Gods,  the  one  deriving  his  existence  from  the  other. 
For  this  opinion  he  was  driven  into  exile.    Valentino   Gentile  i 
(1520-66)  had  also,  in  the  words  of  Calvin,  "  drunk  dirty  water! 
from  the  Servetian  puddle."    He  was  jcompelled  to  recant,  toi 
bum  his  own  writings,  and  to  swear  not  to  leave  Geneva  with- 
out official  permission.    But  he  escaped.    After  leading  a  wan- 
dering life  he  was  captured  in  Savoy  and  sent  to  Bern  where, 
although  he  was  not  a  citizen  of  the  place  and  therefore  was  not 
subject  to  its  laws,  he  was  condemned  for  heresy  and  contempt 
of  law  and  was  beheaded.    The  executions  of  Servetus  and 
Gentile  hastened  the   departure  of  the  Italian  heretics  from  the 
Calvinistic  lands.    The  political  decentralization  of  Poland  made 
for  a  careless  freedom  of  thought,  and  for  some  time  rather 
close  artistic  and  commercial  relations  had  existed  between  that 


352  THE  PROTESTANT  REVOLUTION 


^^^'     country  and  Italy.    So  it  was  to  that  far-off  land  that  the  Latin 
refugee  heretics  found  their  way;  and  there  they  were  wel- 

1648-1000   coined  as  scholars  and  men  of  culture. 

It  was  two  Italians,  uncle  and  nephew,  who  drew  together 
the  threads  of  the  Anti-Trinitarian  heresy  and  gave  to  it  the 

At  semblance  of  an  organized  church,  __  Ldio  Socipi  (1525-62),  a 

lawyer  by  profession  and  a  man  of  stainlessTife,  fled  from  Italy 
in  1547  and  for  the  remainder  of  his  years  was  a  wanderer  in 
central  and  northern  Europe,  scattering  everywhere  the  germs  of 
his  heterodox  views,  never  insisting  or  asserting  that  he  was 
right,  and  making  himself  beloved  by  the  charm  of  his  per- 
sonality. He  died  at  Zurich,  leaving  to  his  nephew  a  mass  of 
unpublished  writings.  Fausto  Socini  (1539-1604),  who  like 
his  uncle  was  a  lawyef^d  a  man  of  irreproachable  character, 
hastened  to  Zurich  as  soon  as  he  heard  of  his  uncle's  death, 
collected  the  books  and  papers  he  had  inherited,  and  then  for 

ften  years  held  the  position  of  foreign  secretary  to  the  Medici 
of  Florence.  At  last  he  abandoned  his  possessions,  broke  with 
his  family,  left  his  country  behind,  and  went  forth  to  obey  the 
roice  of  his  conscience.  The  first  two  or  three  years  of  his 
exile  were  passed  at  Basel  where  he  devoted  himself  ardently  to 
theological  studies.  His  method  of  explicit  affirmation  or  n^* 
tion  was  quite  the  opposite  to  that  of  his  uncle.  The  point  at 
i  which  he  departed  from  the  orthodox  theology  of  Catholicism 
and  Protestantism  alike  was  that  of  the  sacrifice  of  the  cross. 
In  what  sense,  he  asked,  did  Jesus  save  mankind?  Did  he  expi- 
ate our  sins?  Did  he  make  a  vicarious  atonement?  Did  he 
render  satisfaction  for  our  transgressions  in  our  place  and  our 
stead  to  divine  justice?  Or  is  it  rather  by  the  example  of  his 
life,  by  the  power  of  his  love,  by  the  influence  of  his  spirit,  that 
he  wrought  for  the  salvation  of  man?  Upon  the  answer  de- 
pends the  divinity  of  Christ.  In  Socini's  teaching  "  the  doc- 
trine of  the  Trinity  disappeared  and  its  place  was  taken  by  those 
of  the  Unity  of  God  and  the  simple  humanity  of  Christ."  So- 
cini found  the  Anti-Trinitarians  in  Poland  divided  among  them- 
selves chiefly  because  very  many  of  them  were  really  Anabap- 
tists. After  long  efforts  he  succeeded  in  separating  this  ele- 
ment and  in  uniting  the  remaining  Anti-Trinitarians,  who 
adopted  the  name  of  the  Polish  Brethren  and  whose  principles 
were  formulated  in  1642  in  the  Racovian  Catechism.  The  Anti- 
Trinitarians  were  impelled  to  organization  far  less  than  were 
the  more  conservative  reformers.  They  were  deeply  affected 
by  the  revived  individuality  of  the  Renaissance  and  felt  com- 
paratively slightly  the  need  of  association  with  a  community  of 


/ 


THE  RESULTS  OF  THE  PROTESTANT  REVOLUTION     353 

fdkyw-bdievers.    Such  bold  thinkers  seldom  yearn  greatly  for     55m 

**  the  assuring  sense  of  fellowship."    They  looked  to  the  man  of      

Galilee  as  the  most  perfect  guide  of  personal  life.  Sodni  was  *•*••*••• 
concerned  chiefly  with  the  intellectual  and  ethical  aspects  of 
religion;  for  its  emotional  appeal  he  had  little  response.  His 
exposition  of  his  doctrines  is  always  clear  and  cold.  The  gov- 
ernment of  the  Sodnian  church  that  he  founded  was  carried  on 
by  elders.  It  had  a  number  of  prosperous  schools ;  and  it  exer- 
cised a  powerful  discipline  over  the  lives  of  its  members.  The 
activity  of  the  Jesuits,  aided  by  the  internal  dissensions  of  the 
Socinians,  drove  it  from  the  country,  and  some  of  its  members 
made  their  way  to  Transylvania  where  to-day  their  Unitarian 
descendants  enjoy  a  certain  degree  of  success.  The  importance 
of  Socinianism  lies  in  its  demand  that  Christianity,  by  means 
of  a  searching  examination  conducted  according  to  the  principles 
of  the  historica<ritical  process  of  humanism,  should  undergo  a  i 
purification.  Belief  was  to  be  limited  to  what  could  be  assured  | 
by  that  process  of  proof.  Its  belief  in  the  free  will  of  man, 
which  dominates  all  its  writings,  destroys  the  Calvinistic  system 
of  salvation*  The  path  that  led  to  Socinianism  was  entered 
upon,  after  the  close  of  the  Middle  Ages,  by  Lorenzo  Valla, 
a  favorite  author  of  Erasmus. 

Other  sects  to  which  the  Protestant  Revolution  gave  rise  had 
thdr  origin  in  schisms  that  occurred  in  the  Protestant  churches. 
The  Catholic  C,hi^rrh  rt^,Qgt}i7^^  t>i<>  Rjble  as  a  source  of  re-lTht       ^ 

ious  jcnnw1^(lgi>.     She  supplemented  it  with  the  tradition"  injjfjjjjf^ 

:eeping;  and,  furthermore,  dc^^^r*?*^  liprcp^f  fQ  Hp  tv^(>  \n^^^^^^ 

foiif'Kl^   jptprpf^^pr  of   the   scriptural   writings.     Protestantism  ^Jj^ 


insisted  upon  the  sole  authnrity  of  the__Scripture,  and^^tting 
t^p  no  mtallible  guide,jojS^jnterprgtationi_assumed  it  to^cohtam 
an  articulated  and  self-consistent  system  of  doctrine  that  is  ap-l 
parent  to  every  reader.  But,  as  we  have  seen,  when  men  began 
to  read  and  interpret  for  themselves  it  was  highly  improbable 
that  they  would  interpret  alike.  The  principle  of  freedom  of 
interpretation  led  the  way  to  things  of  which  the  leading  re- 
formers had  not  dreamed.  Principles  are  inexorable  and  un- 
compromising. They  always  exact  their  full  penalty  from 
individuals.  Very  soon  the  principle  of  freedom  of  interpreta- 
tion htgSLXi  to  exact  its  penalty.  Divergent  opinions  appeared, 
asserting  themselves  at  first  timidly  and  hesitatingly,  dealing  with 
infinitely  fine  shades  of  doctrine,  and  then,  becoming  bolder, 
proceeding  to  assail  more  important  ones,  and  so  leading  to  the 
widest  gulfs  of  separation.  The  authority  of  Luther  and  that 
of  Calvin  were  overthrown  as  readily  as  those  revolutionists  had 


1^ 


354  THE  PROTESTANT  REVOLUTION 

^^If^    fonce  overthrown  that  of  the  pope.    Out  of  the  doctrines  of  jvoA 

Mcation  by  faith  alone  and  of  predestination  there  grew  up  a 

^•^^^•^/ischolasticisni  even  more  unprofitable  than  that  of  the  last  cen- 
I'turies  of  the  Middle  Ages.    It  is  not  always  easy  to  separate 
these  groups  of  schismatics,  for  they  overlap  each  other  and 
cross  and  recross  in  great  variety.    We  shall  notice  only  the 
more  important  of  them. 
The  first  of  the  dissensions  among  the  Lutherans  was  the 
Tte  one  stigmatized  aa  A  n| jnrffnii^  nigq]     The  cluef  name  connected 

5^^J*      with  this  schism  is  fliat  of  John  Agpcola.  ( 14Q2-1566)  who  main- 
tte  tained  that  the  principles  and  motives  contained  in  the  New 

ohnrehM  Testament  furnished  the  man  who  had  faith  in  Christ  with  all 
that  was  necessary  to  guide  him  in  life  and  that  therefore  he  was 
exempt  from  the  operation  of  all  law,  even  from  the  law  of 
Moses.  This  difference  between  the  orthodox  Lutherans  and 
the  Antinomians  was  exaggerated  by  the  bitterness  of  both  sets  of 
disputants.  The  latter  were  charged  with  holding  that  as  long 
as  a  man  is  in  a  state  of  grace  it  matters  not  how  immoral  his 
life  may  be.  The  schism  "  tore  the  very  heart "  of  the  Lutheran 
Church  and  left  upon  Luther  ''  an  abiding  and  melancholy  im- 
pression." Another  Lutheran  schism  was  Qsiandrism.  Andrew 
Osiander  (1498-1551),  who  once  had  been  a  pnest  and  who  was 
now  one  of  the  most  powerful  of  the  Lutheran  preachers,  de- 
clared that  justification  does  not  consist  only  of  the  redeeming 
death  of  Christ  upon  the  cross  and  the  assertion  of  faith  on  the 
part  of  the  individual  in  the  efHcacy  of  that  sacrifice  but  that  it 
includes  another  act,  a  change  wrought  within  the  heart  of  the 
individual,  by  the  same  Redeemer,  a  "making  righteous,"  from 
which  the  doing  of  good  deeds  follows  as  a  natural  consequence. 
Another  schism  that  arose  out  of  the  doctrine  of  justification  by 
faith  alone  was  known  as  Synergism.  It  was  held  that  in  the 
act  of  conversion  to  a  religious  lite^ere  is  a  certain  cooperation 
of  free-will  with  grace.  This  doctrine,  advocated  by  John 
Pfeffinger  (1493-1573),  was  vehemently  denounced  by  Matthias 
Flaclci  known,  from  his  Dalmatian  birth,  as  Flacius  Illyricus 
(1520-75)  who,  however,  went  further  than  Luther's  teaching 
and  thus  created  the  schism  known  as  Flacianism.  He  denied 
any  participation  whatsoever  of  the  free-will  of  man  in  the  act 
of  conversion.  He  asserted  that  original  sin  is  not  an  accident 
but  the  veritable  substance  of  fallen  man  and  that  justification 
is  an  entirely  gratuitous  act  of  God.  His  doctrine,  of  course, 
means  the  utter  depravity  of  human  nature.  The  Synergists 
and  the  Flacians  fought  with  extreme  bitterness  over  the  question 
as  to  whether  the  term  "  accident "  or  the  term  "  substance  '* 


THE  RESULTS  OF  THE  PROTESTANT  REVOLUTION      355 
1 ^ , /> 3;^ 

should  be  employed.    Another  schism'  arising  from  the  distinc-     ^^jl^ 

tion  between  faith  and  works  was  instituted  by  George  Majorl     

(1502-74)  who  in  a  more  or  less  ambiguous  way  held  that  good'***^^*^^ 
works  are  not  only  useful  but  necessary  to  salvation. 

This  Protestant  scholasticism  was  more  sterile  than  that  of/ 
the  Middle  Ages,  narrower  and  more  harmful,  because  unlike  thef 
latter  it  did  not  seek  to  include  the  entire  field  of  hiunan  knowlA  oiuurMitr 
edge,  it  paid  no  attention  to  scientific,  philosophical,  or  politicall  5?,^^^^^^ 
thought.  It  confined  itself  strictly  to  theology,  and  so  it  failed  to|  iMtieini 
avail  itself  of  the  vitalizing  influence  of  the  expanding  science 
and  philosophy  of  the  time.  These  new  scholastics,  moreover, 
were  far  inferior  in  capacity  and  breadth  of  vision  to  those  of 
the  Middle  Ages.  Among  their  number  there  was  no  one  who 
resembled  Aquinas,  Bernard,  or  Bonaventura.  And  the  isolated 
theology  was  that  of  a  sect  and  not  of  a  universal  church.  It 
would  be  a  difficult  task  to  find  a  parallel  to  the  bitterness  en- 
gendered by  these  petty  dissensions,  many  of  which  were  merely 
Ic^cal  distinctions  with  scarcely  a  perceptible  difference  in 
reality  — '^  vacant  chaff  well  meant  for  grain."  Melanchthon  was 
profoundly  oppressed  by  it.  When  the  shadows  gathered  ever 
deeper  about  the  evening  of  his  life,  and  the  aim  for  which  he 
had  worked,  the  improvement  of  the  daily  life  of  men,  seemed 
to  be  vanishing  ever  further  into  the  distance,  he  gave  as  one  of 
his  reasons  for  wishing  to  die  the  rabies  theologorum;  and  the 
final  words  to  which  he  gave  utterance  were  a  prayer  for  peace 
in  the  conflicting  churches.  It  was  inevitable  that  these  disputes 
over  terms  and  deductions  should  be  barren  of  profit.  For  it 
is  not  in  logic,  but  in  human  nature  as  a  whole,  that  truth  is 
to  be  found.  The  wise  man  seeks  for  it  not  in  a  syllogism,  but 
in  the  hidden  sources  of  life,  in  the  fundamental  and  permanent 
motives  of  activity. 

A  third  result  of  the  Revolution  to  faith  and  worship  was  the 
growth  of  free  thought, —  the  assertion  of  the  right  to  think 
freely  and  logically  upon  the  great  questions  of  life  and  the 
practice   of    that   right.    Erasmus    refused   to   join   the    Prot-iJjJJ^*' 
estants,  not  because  he  lacked  the  courage,  but  because  he  was!  Tiioiifiit 
no  more  Lutheran  than  he  was  Catholic.    "  There  has  never  | 
been   a   more   conservative    revolutionary    than    Luther,"    says 
Laurent ;  "  far  from  shaking  the  beliefs  upon  which  [orthodox] 
Christianity  is  based,  he  exaggerated  them  to  give  them  a  new 
force."    To  Erasmus  the  two  parties  were  merely  a  Scylla  and 
Charybdis.    He  remained  apparently  in  the  Mother  Church  be- 
cause, in  his  time,  there  had  not  been  made  a  place  for  free- 
thinkers.   One  must  as  yet  belong  to  one  of  the  churches,  or  at 


3s6  THE  PROTESTANT  REVOLUTION 


least  to  one  of  the  sects.    Yet  among  the  liberators  who  labored 
for  the  enfranchisement  of  the  human  mind  Erasmus  must  be 
1S4S-1S00  accorded  a  high  rank.    Another  exponent  of  thengm  to  think 
for  one's  self  was  Ulrich  von  Hutten.  in  whom  love  of  liberty  was 
inborn  and  who  astonished  tiie  leaders  of  the  German  revolt  from 
Rome  by  his  ardent  and  infinite  aspirations.    He  died  prema- 
turely.   Had  he  lived  longer,  it  seems  safe  to  say,  he  would  not 
have  associated  himself  .with  either  the  Lutheran  or  the  Calvinist 
Church  but  would  have  stood  boldly  as  a  forerunner  of  the  wider 
religion    of    htunanity.    Another    free-thinker    was  ^qdu^us 
Agrippa  (1486-1535)  who  pointed  out  the  fact  that  the  sii^le 
tSachmgs  of  Jesus  had  gradually  been  submerged  by  the  accumtda- 
tion  of  dogma,  and  who  urged  a  return  to  the  purity  and  the  sim- 
plicity of  the  apostolic  years.    He  failed  to  see  an  advantage  in 
the  substitution  of  new  orthodoxies  for  the  old  one,  and  so  he 
remained  nominally  a  Catholic.    Paracelsus  (1493-1541)9  despite 
his  cabalistic  fantasies,  his  regSLvh  ior  astrolc^,  and  his  unre- 
mitting search   for  the  philosopher's  stone,  helped  to  reform  I 
medical  practice  by  insisting  upon  arriving  at  a  knowledge  off 
diseases  by  the  direct  observation  of  nature.    In  the  field  of  re-f 
ligion  he  pointed  out  the  subordinate  position  of  all  that  is  ex- 
ternal in  faith  and  worship ;  and  although  he  remained  within  the 
Catholic  fold  he  approved  Luther's  attack  upon  the  externalized 
ecclesiasticism   of    the    Mother   Church.    Caspar   Schwenkfeld^ 
(1490-1562),  a  well-educated  Silesian  nobleman,  became  a  zeal- 
ous follower  of  Luther.    But  his  mystic  temperament  and  his  / 
individual  mind  led  him  to  withhold  his  approval  of  the  harden- 1 
ing  dogmas,  and  over-dependence  upon  the  external  word  in  the/ 
Lutheran   Church,  of  the  dwindling  of   its  spiritual  element.! 
Religion,  he  contended,  has  for  its  basis  the  inner  experience  of  I 
the  divine  life.     No  external  practice  is  indispensable  to  thej 
flowing  of  the  grace  of  God  into  the  heart  of  man.    The  divind 
grace  comes  straight  from  God  to  man  and  needs  neither  scrip-1 
ture  nor  sacrament.     Piety  is  not  the  exclusive  possession  of  any  * 
church.     But  the  inward  presence  of  grace  must  always  be  veri- 
fied by  the  strict  morality  of  daily  conduct.     Such  a  position  as 
this  in  the  middle  of  the  sixteenth  century  entailed  upon  its 
holder  persecution  by  Protestant  and  Catholic  alike.     So  this 
mystic  prince,  with  his  kindly  heart,  gentle  speech,  and  courtly 
manners,  spent  the  remainder  of  his  life  as  a  wanderer,  gather- 
ing about  himself  a  little  group  of  adherents,  seeking  to  unite 
them  by  no  external  organization  but  only  by  the  bond  of  their 
common  belief  in  the  direct  approach  of  man  to  God.     He  sought 
to  the  last  to  distinguish  between  the  external  and  internal,  the 


THE  RESULTS  OF  THE  PROTESTANT  REVOLUTION     357 

formal  and  the  real  Similar  to  Schwenkfeld  in  his  refusal  to 
worship  at  the  shrine  of  the  written  word  was  ^fHaQt^Q  Fran<;k 
( 1495  ?-i 543?),  preacher,  soap-boiler,  printer,  and  historian.  He 
contended  that  th^  new  churciies^  placed  an  undue  etnpiiasis  upon 
the  written  word ;  and  their  formation  of  new  sectarian  require- 
ments for  religious  association  he  deemed  to  be  undesirable.  It.  i 
is  the  spirit  of  Christ,  he  said,  that  makes  men  pious ;  and  that!  I 
spirit  is  a  free  thing,  unfettered  by  any  external  machineryj  ' 
There  is,  therefore,  but  one  Church  upon  earth,  of  which  every 
man  who  has  directly  received  the  grace  of  God  is  a  member. 
Insistence  upon  the  written  word  and  upon  external  observances 
leads  to  spiritual  death.  "  I  set  much  more  store  upon  a  quiet, 
self-denied  heart,  wherein  God  may  shrine  and  mirror  Himself/' 
he  said ;  **  for  this  is  all  that  Christ  thinks  to  be  necessary  to  his 
method  and  secret."  He  was  a  prolific  writer,  devoting  himself 
to  popular  history  and  to  mystical  theology.  To  his  stories  of 
the  Empire  and  the  Church  he  added  a  chronicle  of  the  heretics, 
including  among  them  Jesus  himself,  and  Paul,  and  Augustine, 
and  "every  great  soul  who  had  dared  to  strike  out  for  the 
Church  herself  new  paths  to  truth."  When  he  was  driven  from 
Strasburg  he  boiled  soap  for  a  time  at  Ulm  and  when  for  a 
sMund  lune  he  was  exiled  from  that  Protestant  stronghold  he  be- 
came a  printer  at  Basel.  He  was  not  a  great  scholar^  but  his  ap- 
peal was  to  the  common  people  and  not  to  theleamed.  His  writ- 
ings do  not  reveal  tne  working  oi  a  critical  mind,  l)ut  they  are 
inspired  by  a  rational  spirit  Another  free-thinker  was  the 
phUosopher  Pierre  de  la  Ramee  (1515-72),  better  known  as 
Ramus,  whose  vigorous  and  persistent  battle  against  the  prevail- 
ing Aristotelianism  at  Paris  resulted  in  his  death  in  the  Massa- 
cre of  St  Bartholomew.  He  wished  to  vitalize  the  rigid  dia- 
lectics of  his  day  by  subjecting  them  to  the  mellowing  influence 
of  humanism,  and  as  a  first  step  he  aimed  to  overthrow  the  ab- 
ject respect  for  authority.  We  ought  to  exercise  our  own  rea- 
son and  do  our  own  thinking,  he  said,  untrammeled  by  the  dic- 
tation of  others.  Montaigne  (1533-92)  said  it  was  a  waste  of 
time  to  make  a  revolution  for  the  sake  of  the  few  dogmas  that 
separate  Protestantism  from  Catholicism. 

This  disdain  of  all  the  dogmas  of  the  time,  implicit  in  some  ThtLimi* 
writers  and  explicit  in  others,  is  to  be  found  in  the  utterances  SiSmiil 
of  all  the  free-thinkers  of  the  century.  It  implies  the  desire  and 
the  hope  of  a  more  radical  revolution,  of  the  coming  of  an  all- 
inclusive  religion  founded  upon  reason.  Such  a  revolution,  how- 
ever, was  not  possible  in  the  sixteenth  century.  It  is  not  possi- 
Ue  to-day.    And  in  so  far  as  it  fails  to  take  into  consideration 


THE  PROTESTANT  REVOLUTION 


•aUBla- 


ftteWork 

of  tlM 


/ 


T]i«miM 

of  Tol«r^ 

MM 


spirations  of  the  heart  it  is  not  desirable.    Rdq^on,  in  or- 
o  win  humanity,  can  never  rest  soldj  upon  die  ifitfBfrt 
htiman  intellect  is  only  finite,  whereas  the  reach  of  rdq^ 
liifinite.     It  is  the  heart  that  dreams  and  yearns  beyood  Ae 
horizon  of  the  finite;  and,  because  of  this  fact,  rdigioo  iinisl  al- 
ways be  based  very  largely  upon  the  emotions.    Rationalism  fagr 
itself  can  give  us  only  philosophy.    It  is  in  the  emotioos  lliat  one 
must  look  for  the  source  of  the  religious  sentiment     Not  all 
free  thought,  as  we  have  seen,  tended  to  pure  rationalism,  but 
much  of  it  did« 

These  ideas  of  free  thought  made  their  way  but  slowly  in  the 
century  of  the  Revolution.  But  from  that  movement  tiiey  un- 
doubtedly received  an  impetus  which  had  not  entered  into  the 
calculation  of  the  leading  reformers.  The  division  of  western 
Europe  into  so  many  hostile  ecclesiastical  camps  led  the  way  to 
a  great  variety  of  unorthodox  opinion  which  in  its  turn  has  sent 
the  world  "  spinning  on  a  new  track.''  Men  found  that  there 
is  no  logical  halting  place  between  self-abn^[ation  and  self-asser- 
tion. It  became  increasingly  clear  that  at  whatever  cost  one 
must  go  in  search  of  truth  through  the  door  of  self,  that  one 
must  find  a  theory  for  God  and  the  universe  that  will  make  die 
true  unity  consist  in  fidelity  to  self.  The  truest  verity  in  act, 
in  thought,  in  feeling,  and  in  aspiration,  proceeds  not  from  a 
common  starting  point,  but  from  a  common  goal.  Men  are  never 
so  absolutely  united  as  when  each  is  loyal  to  his  finest  vision, 
and,  renouncing  all  that  is  not  genuine  and  sincere,  strives  at 
self-expression.  But  this  rests  up)on  an  assumption  absolutely 
antipodal  to  the  postulate  that  prevailed  in  all  the  orthodox 
churches  of  the  time.  It  rests  upon  the  premise  of  the  divinity 
of  man,  not  tipon  his  depravity,  upon  his  essential  virtue,  not  upon 
an  inheritance  of  primal  sin.  Such  was  the  natural  outcome  of 
the  humanism  of  the  Renaissance.  Whatever  it  may  be  called, 
free  thinking,  rationalism,  humanism,  individualism,  it  had  for 
its  champions  a  group  of  men  who  belonged  to  neither  of  the  two 
great  camps  of  Christendom,  who  refused  their  sanction  to  the 
,  extremes  of  cither  side ;  a  group  of  men  who  held  an  increasing 
feeling  that  as  time  goes  on  man  will  discover  that  in  religion 
there  are  but  few  essentials  and  that  society  may  safely  welcome 
man  to  self-loyalty  and  self-expression. 

The  last  result  to  faith  and  worship  that  we  shall  notice  in  our 
study  of  the  Protestant  Revolution  was  the  rise  of  tolerance. 
The  most  dolorous  chapter  in  all  history  is  the  story  of  the  tor- 
turing and  putting  to  death  of  men  and  women  because  of  their 
religious  beliefs.    Theja*e  of  tolerance,  like  the  growth  of  free 


'-■  • — , 


THE  RESULTS  OF  THE  PROTESTANT  REVOLUTION      359 


^sgigfaty  was  not  a  result  at  which  the  leading  reformers  con-     mm 

^        led.    All  the  chief  reformers,  as  we  shall  see,  were     t — 

just  as  Intolerant  of  religious  views  that  differed  from  their  *•*•"*••• 
own  as  the  Mother  Church  was  intolerant  of  them.  It  was  a 
result  that  came  in  spite  of*  the  reformers,  one  that  took  its  rise 
out  of  the  movement  itself.  The  principle  of  religious  toler^ 
ance  was  not  bom  in  the  sixteenth  century.  It  was  clearly  and 
cogently  stated  in  1327  by  Marsiglio  of  Padua  in  his  Defensor^ 
Pacts.  And  the  Neo-Platonists  oi  Florence  conceived  the  ideaj^^l^ 
in  its  noblest  sense.  They  regarded  all  philosophies  and  all  re- 
ligions as  being  roads  to  God ;  and  they  endeavored  to  profit  from 
all  of  them  by  wise  eclecticism. 

Erasmus  upheld  the  theory  of  tolerance.  His  temperament 
was  averse  to  persecution  and  he  was  convinced  that  it  did  no 
good.  But  he  did  not  argue  for  tolerance  in  the  sense  of  per- 
mitting different  creeds  to  live  peacefully  side  by  side.  What  he 
desired  was  the  g^^eral  pri^yalenre  of  a  mediating  humanism  that 
ghould  subject  the  various  antagonistic  theologies  to  the  slow 
4!ix)sion  of  the  scientific  spirit.  Naturally  he  incurred  the  enmity 
of  both  sides.  He""3idnot  wish  to  be  at  odds  with  any  party, 
and  yet  he  fell  out  with  all.  And  then,  as  the  result  of  reserva- 
tions, distinctions,  and  cautious  tackings,  his  views  on  tolerance, 
as  upon  many  other  questions,  dissolved  into  the  most  amorphous 
of  nebulae.  It  was  this  habit  of  shrinking  from  a  definite  posi- 
tion that  called  forth  Beza's  disdainful  remark  that  Erasmus 
**  is  so  changeable  that  he  has  preferred  to  conceal  what  he  be-  \ 
lieves  rather  than  to  tell  it  to  the  world."  I 

Sir  Thomas  More,  in  his  Utopia,  dreamed  of  a  cult  in  which! 
all  religions  could  take  part  without  giving  up  their  distinctive!  nr 
characteristics.    Tolerance  was  to  prevail  not  only  for  the  sake*  JJJJI^JJ^ 
of  peace  but  because  it  would  "  make  for  the  furtherance  of  re-  setafttM 
ligion."    Out  of  all  vain  and  superstitious  religions  truth  could 
be  trusted  eventually  to  issue  and  come  to  light.    But  the  hu- 
manist became  the  chancellor;  and  in  the  process  he  seems  to 
have  suffered  a  sea-change,  for  he  held  the  propagation  of  heresy 
to  be  an  evil  for  which  no  pimishment  is  too  severe.    The  chron- 
icles of_Sebast^n  F^^qck  contain  many  passages  that  argue  for 
tolerance.    Heretics  are   usually  misrepresented,   said   Franck.  ^ 
"  If  we  knew  Jesus  only  through  the  Jews  and  Romans  we 
should  see  all  his  words  perverted.    He  would  be  called  seditious, 
seductive,  diabolical,  a  thorough  heretic,  the  enemy  of  the  law  | 
of  Moses.    And  is  it  not  reasonable  to  suppose  that  this  is  just  1 
what  has  been  done  with  Wessel,  and  Wiclif ,  and  Hus  ?  "    Neither 
Anabaptists  nor  papists  ought  to  be  put  to  death,  he  said.    Let 


36o  THE  PROTESTANT  REVOLUTION 


Sm    I  US  take  what  is  good  in  each  sect  and  leave  the  rest  to  the  devil 

The  man  who  gave  the  finest  and  truest  expression  of  the 

1M6-1600  theory  of  tolerance  in  the  sixteenth  century  was  Sebastian  Cas- 
tellio  ( 1 515-63)  >  whose  protest  against  the  burning  of  Servetus 
TiMGhMi  we  have  already  heard.  But  that  was  not  the  earliest  of  his 
^irSin-  pleas.  Two  years  before  the  fagots  were  lighted  on  the  knoll  of 
Champd  he  had  written  with  sound  judgment  for  tolerance  in  the 
preface  to  the  Latin  Bible  that  he  dedicated  to  Edward  VI  of 
England.  It  is  a  strange  contradiction,  he  there  pointed  out, 
that  through  zeal  for  that  Christ  who  gave  up  His  life  in  order 
that  the  lives  of  others  might  be  spared  we  shed  the  blood  of 
our  fellow-men.  We  are  eager  to  snatch  out  the  tares  although 
He  has  commanded  that  the  tares  be  left  until  the  harvest  in 
order  that  the  grain  may  not  be  pulled  up.  We  persecute  others 
for  the  sake  of  that  Christ  who  conunanded  us  to  turn  the  left 
cheek  when  we  are  struck  upon  the  right  Even  the  law  of  the 
pagan  Romans  held  an  accused  man  whose  social  status  was  in 
dispute  to  be  a  freeman  until  he  was  proved  to  belong  to  the 
servile  class.  How  much  more  deliberate,  theil)  should  we  be  in 
religious  affairs  where  it  is  so  easy  to  be  mistaken  t  Is  it  not  an 
absurdity  to  use  earthly  weapons  in  a  spiritual  battle?  The  real  1 
enemies  of  Christianity  are  vices,  and  against  them  must  be  ar-j 
raigned  the  virtues.  The  real  work  of  the  Christian  lies  there.J 
It  should  not  be  abandoned  to  the  executioner.  There  is  no  class 
of  men  in  the  world  less  to  be  feared  than  those  who  are  ready 
to  submit  to  torture  and  yield  up  their  lives  for  the  sake  of  their 
beliefs.  There  are  none  more  obedient  to  princes  and  magis- 
trates. Three  years  later,  in  the  Treatise  an  Heretics,  the  preface 
of  which  was  signed  with  the  pen-name  of  Martinus  Bellius, 
there  appeared  the  following  passage  beneath  the  restraint  of 
which  can  be  felt  the  ardor  of  Castellio's  passionate  desire  to 
convince  men  of  the  truth  of  his  message.  "  True  fear  of  God 
and  charity  are  set  at  naught ;  men's  regard  for  them  has  grown 
cold.  Our  life  is  passed  in  brawling  and  contention  and  every  J 
kind  of  sin.  We  dispute  not  as  to  the  way  by  which  we  can  go 
to  Christ  (which  is  the  bettering  of  our  daily  life),  but  about 
Christ's  state  and  office,  to  wit,  where  He  now  is,  what  He 
is  doing,  and  how  He  is  seated  at  the  right  hand  of  the  Father, 
and  how  He  is  one  with  the  Father.  So,  too,  about  the  Trinity, 
predestination,  free-will,  God,  the  angels,  the  state  of  the  soul 
after  this  life,  and  other  similar  things,  which  are  not  greatly 
necessary  to  be  known,  .  .  .  nor  even  if  they  were  known  would 
make  any  man  the  better,  for  doth  not  Paul  say,  *  If  I  know  all 
mysteries  and  have  not  charity  I  am  nothing '  ?  "    This  anxiety 


THE  RESULTS  OF  THE  PROTESTANT  REVOLUTION      361 

of  men  (wholly  ill-directed)  is  not  only  vicious  in  itself,  but  will     ^^^joi 

give  birth  to  other  and  greater  evils.    It  "engenders  pride,      

cruelty,  and  persecution ;  so  that  no  man  will  endure  his  neighbor  *•*•■*••• 
if  he  disagrees  in  aught  with  him,  as  if  there  were  not  to-day  as 
many  opinions  as  there  are  men.  •  •  •  And  if  there  is  any  man 
who  endeavors  to  procure  the  white  robe  of  Christ,  the  desire 
to  live  a  holy  and  just  life,  all  the  others  with  one  accord  rise  up 
against  him  and  without  hesitation  pronounce  him  a  heretic  .  .  . 
they  blacken  his  character  and  so  disparage  him  in  the  eyes  of  the 
common  pe(^le  that  men  esteem  it  a  deadly  sin  to  listen  to  him. 
Thence  proceeds  that  cruel  and  brutal  rage  for  the  use  of  tor- 
ture," that  certain  persons  become  infuriated  **  if  they  see 
heretics  strangled  instead  of  being  slowly  burnt  to  death.  And 
cruel  as  these  things  are  a  sin  yet  more  horrible  is  committed  in 
that  it  is  pretended  that  they  are  done  in  the  cause  of  Christ 
and  are  but  the  carrying  out  of  His  will."  Then,  after  reverting 
to  the  life  of  the  gentle  Nazarene,  he  said :  "  I  do  not  see  how 
we  can  retain  the  name  of  Christians  if  we  do  not  imitate  his 
mercy  and  gentleness.  .  .  •  Each  man  must  examine  himself, 
sift  and  diligently  scrutinize  his  conscience,  and  lay  bare  all  his 
thoughts,  words  and  deeds,  and  then  he  will  see  and  clearly 
recognize  that  he  is  such  that  he  cannot  pull  the  mote  out  of  his 
brother's  eye  until  he  has  first  cast  the  beam  from  his  own. 
Wherefore  it  will  be  far  better,  seeing  our  sins  are  so  many  and 
we  are  all  guilty  of  sin,  that  each  man  turn  to  himself  and  be 
careful  to  amend  his  own  life^  instead  of  condemning  that  of 
others."  Castellio's  evident  desire  in  producing  the  Treatise  on  I 
Heretics  was  to  discuss  in  the  hearing  of  the  public  at  large  all  ^ 
the  time-honored  arg^uments  in  behalf  of  intolerance  and  to 
bring  the  people  to  a  clear  understanding  of  the  subject.  His^  |- 
plea  is  not  the  work  of  a  satirist  nor  that  of  a  skeptic.  It  is  not^t  I 
even  the  result  of  the  scientific  mind.  Conscience  alone  impelled  f  f 
him  to  speak.  His  tolerance  was  the  result  of  his  religion.  ' 
Tolerance,  we  are  sometimes  told,  is  the  result  of  "  the  growth 
of  rationalism,  the  rise  of  the  sciences."  But  "  that  is  not  true," 
says  George  Lincoln  Burr,  "as  far  as  my  studies  have  led  me. 
It  was  not  the  greatest  scholars,  the  men  of  boldest  views,  who 
led  the  movement  They  were  often,  as  they  are  to-day,  the 
most  intolerant  of  men.  It  was  the  men  of  loving  hearts  and 
of  broad  acquaintance"  who  made  the  first  pleas  for  tolerance 
and  who  in  every  age  have  been  its  true  champions.  The  argu- 
ment for  tolerance  may  be  found  in  the  writings  of  Castellio  in 
almost  its  final  form.  Immanuel  Kant  and  the  other  thinkers 
who  have  considered  the  subject  in  the  intervening  centuries  have 


3& 


THE  PROTESTANT  REVOLUTION 


ORAP. 


1645-1600 


Italian 
Befnseei 

MAdTO- 

catMOf 
Toltruiot 


Ooonherl 


been  able  to  add  but  little.  For  this  signal  service  to  humanitr 
the  name  of  Castellio  deserves  to  be  rescued  from  that  oom- 
parative  obscurity  in  which  it  has  so  long  remained. 

Coelius  Secundus  Curio,  the  brilliant  and  eloquent  Piedmontese 
humanist,  was  also  an  a(ivocate  of  tolerance.  After  fleeing  from 
Italy  he  had  taught  for  a  time  in  the  college  of  Lausanne.  If  he 
did  not  actually  take  part  in  the  writing  of  the  Treatise  on 
Heretics  he  at  least  belonged  to  the  group  from  which  it  came; 
and  the  most  complete  and  boldest  defense  of  Servetus  and  con- 
demnation of  his  judges,  if  not  written  by  him,  certainly  received 
his  careful  aid  in  the  process  of  revision  for  the  press.  Another 
Italian  refugee  who  advocated  tolerance  was  Bernardino  Ochino. 
A  third  was  Giacomo  Aconzio,  who  during  his  stay  in  Basd 
doubtless  became  connected  with  Castellio's  group.  His  little 
book  Stratagetnata  Satance  may  perhaps  owe  something  to  the 
suggestions  of  Castellio,  Curio,  and  others.  It  is  a  manifesto 
in  favor  of  liberty  of  conscience  in  the  State  and  tolerance  in 
the  Church,  and  its  animating  spirit  is  the  same  as  that  which 
inspired  Castellio.  Mino  Celso  (?-i577),  who  also  advo- 
cated tolerance,  is  the  last  of  these  fugitive  Italians  whom  we 
shall  here  notice.  Not  until  after  his  death,  which  occurred  in 
Basel,  did  his  work  appear.  It  is  made  up  of  borrowings  from 
various  writings  and  it  forms  "  a  kind  of  little  apologetic  library 
of  tolerance."  It  is  quite  a  complete  exposition  of  the  subject, 
a  veritable  "arsenal  of  facts,  texts,  and  arguments,"  ready  for 
any  one  who  desired  to  combat  intolerance.  It  is  by  no  means  a 
masterpiece,  but  it  is  nevertheless  an  exceedingly  useful  manual 
for  the  aid  of  the  defenders  of  liberty  of  conscience. 

Dirck  V.  Coornhert  (1522-90),  secretary  of  the  Estates  of  Hol- 
land and  writer  of  the  first  manifestoes  for  William  of  Orange, 
strove  to  effect  not  only  the  liberty  of  his  country  but,  a  far 
more  difficult  task,  to  brin^  a^Qiit  Ij^e^iiy  of  conscience.  De-i 
spite  the  fact  that  he  was  profoundly  ^nti-papai  m  nis  policy,  and 
that  he  was  the  only  person  who  had  been  excluded  from  an 
amnesty  signed  by  the  Catholic  commander  Requesens,  he  ad- 
vocated tolerance  for  Catholics  as  soon  as  they  should  lay  down 
their  arms.  A  Calvinist  himself,  he  declined  to  follow  Calvin 
blindly.  He  made  vehement  attacks  in  public,  before  ecclesiasti- 
cal and  secular  officials  and  in  the  press,  at  the  peril  of  his  life, 
against  predestination,  imputative  justice,  and,  above  all,  against 
^  hereticide^'  ■H.e'*^iscovered  and  translated  tBe'^ritings  oT 
Castellio,  and  after  that  he  considered  his  chief  work  as  a  re- 
ligious man  to  be  the  persuading  of  men  to  hate  no  one.  He 
had  a  deep  and  abiding  faith  in  the  moral  worth  of  man,  a  faith 


THE  RESULTS  OF  THE  PROTESTANT  REVOLUTION      363 


that  shed  its  peaceful  and  kindly  light  over  his  character  and  his 
itii^.    It  was  largely  owing  to  the  influence  of  Coomhert 

t^  Netherlands  became  the  home  of  freedom  of  the  press  *•*"••• 
ij^md  freedom  of  conscience.  "  Did  we  but  understand  one  another 
/  aright,"  he  said,  **  we  should  find  that  we  are  not  so  far  apart  as 
/  wc  think." 

Yet  in  spite  of  the  existence  in  the  sixteenth  century  of  such 
views  of  tolerance  all  of  the  men  who  led  the  various  revolts  timXb- 
from  Rome  believed  in  the  purging  of  heresy  by  fire  and  sword.  JJ^S"^ 
In  the  new  evangelical  creeds  there  was  contained  no  element  of 
tolerance.  They  paid  homage  to  the  principle  in  the  time  of  their 
development,  when  they  had  everything  to  hope  if  only  they  were 
secured  against  external  opposition.  But  when  they  were  safely 
entrenched  they  would  have  nothing  to  do  with  it  Luther  was 
the  first  to  assert  not  only  the  right  but  the  duty  of  the  civil 
authorities  to  permit  the  preaching  only  of  what  was  recognized 
by  them  to  be  the  true  word  of  God.  Jhe  reformer j^  ratng^  to 
look  uDon  intolerance  as  a  law  of  self-preservation.  Luther 
anathematized  every  one  whose  belief  differed  from  his  own. 
"  He  who  does  not  believe  my  doctrine/'  he  once  said,  "  is  sure 
to  be  damned."  And  his  hatred  of  the  Jews  was  quite  as  bit- 
ter and  unrelenting  as  that*oi  Itit  Middle  Ages  or  of  the  Russia 
of  our  own  time.  Indeed,  he  was  far  more  intolerant  of  them 
than  were  his  Catholic  contemporaries.  His  theory  of  private 
judgment  involves  the  right  of  the  individual  to  decide  for  him- 
self in  religion.  What  else  but  this  can  be  meant  by  his  demo- 
cratic theory  of  universal  priesthood?  But  his-practice  was  in- 
consistent  with  his  profession*  The  claims  of  the  Anabaptists 
to  direct  intercourse  with  God  he  stigmatized  as  an  impious 
fraud.  It  was  he  who  procured  the  expulsion  of  Carlstadt  from 
Wittenberg.  Protestantism,  even  before  the  protest  at  Spires, 
cut  itself  off  from  the  doctrine  of  the  right  of  private  judgment. 
Lutherans  burned  Zwinglians  at  the  stake  in  Germany.  When 
pressed  for  an  opinion  on  heresy  Luther  took  the  eighty-second 
psalm  as  a  text  and  distinguished  between  sedition  and  blas- 
phemous heresy.  The  one  was  treason  against  the  State.  The 
other  was  treason  against  the  Church.  Blasphemy  includes  the 
holding  of  wrong  opinion.  If  one  questions  the  divinity  of 
Christ,  for  example,  he  should  be  put  to  death  without  a  hearing. 

IZwingli  was  ready  some  years  before  Luther  to  punish  heresy 
with  death;  and,  as  we  have  seen,  it  was  with  his  concurrence 
that  Hubmaier  was  tortured.  Calvin  was  thoroughly  out  of  sym- 
pathy with  the  idea  that  individual  interpretation  or  the  trusting 
of  human  nature  is  permissible.    Intolerance  of  the  most  crud 


364 


THE,  PROTESTANT  REVOLUTION 


1545-ieOO 


TImHi- 
tOltlBNM 

of jUto 
tonun 


Th«  Prac- 
titioners 
of  Toler- 
ance 


kind,  naked  and  unabashed,  is  revealed  again  and  again  in  Ui 

i  correspondence.  Simply  for  rejecting  his  doctrine  of  absdote 
predestination  he  drove  Castellio  into  exile.  Without  the  katf 
vestige  of  jurisdiction  he  committed  Servetus  to  the  flames. 
And  he  cQndeffine4  all  who  asserted  that  th^  earth  js^not  Ac 
'cCTtgJLalJtbe^niverse.  His  system  and  theory  of  thcState  a- 
^'l^ressly  excludes  tolerance.  Quite  as  much  as  the  medieval 
j  Church  he  had  in  mind  an  absolute  and  nerfeet-unity.  of  un- 

tUhanging  dngmft. 

Among  the  lesser  reformers  connected  with  the  great  revolts 
tolerance  is  far  to  seek.  Even  Melanchthon,  the  most  timid  of 
the  reformers,  congratulated  Calvin  upon  the  burning  of 
Servetus.  "  The  Church,  both  now  and  in  all  generations,''  he 
wrote,  "  owes,  and  will  owe,  you  a  debt  of  gratitude.  I  entirely 
assent  to  your  judgment.  And  I  say  that  your  magistrates  did 
right,  in  that,  after  solemn  trial,  they  put  the  blasphemer  to 
death."  Beza  said  that  "  blasphemers  and  heretics  ought  to  be 
suppressed  and  punished  by  the  magistrates,"  whom  he  urged 
to  extirpate  heresy  even  by  death.  "To  claim  that  heretics 
ought  not  to  be  punished,"  he  said,  *'  is  the  same  as  saying  that 
those  who  murder  father  or  mother  ought  not  to  be  punished, 
seeing  that  heretics  are  infinitely  worse  than  they."  Bucer  and 
Capito  both  accepted  the  principle  that  the  secular  authority 
ought  to  interfere  in  the  outward  concerns  of  religion. 

It  is  not  to  the  evangelical  reformers  that  one  must  look  for 
either  the  theory  or  the  practice  of  tolerance.  For  the  theory  it 
is,  as  we  have  seen,  to  the  more  or  less  heterodox  believers  that 
one  must  go.  Yet  the  heterodox  believers,  the  isolated  indi- 
viduals and  the  members  of  the  lesser  sects,  who  were  sub- 
jected to  persecution  or  who  feared  it,  were  not  the  only  ones 
who  favored  tolerance.  The  apostles  of  liberty  of  conscience 
were  to  be  found,  here  and  there,  in  the  orthodox  camps,  though 
they  were  never  leaders  of  their  theological  brethren.  For  the 
practice  of  tolerance  it  is  to  certain  of  the  secular  rulers  of  the 
time  that  one  must  look,  to  those  statesmen  who,  standing  on 
the  verge  of  civil  war,  wished  to  dispel  the  danger  by  separating 
religious  strife  from  politics,  by  leaving  their  subjects  free  to 
form  a  patriotic  unity  against  their  external  foes.  They  beg^ 
with  the  Chancellor  L'Hopital,  whose  edict  of  toleration  we  are 
to  notice  later  on.  Although  he  was  a  sincere  Catholic  and  be- 
lieved in  the  intimate  union  of  the  Church  and  State  he  may  be 
described  as  a  genuinely  tolerant  statesman.  T)uke  William  of 
Qevec  .acas  another  such  ruler.  Yet  there  were  not  many  such 
statesmen  an9^  rulers  of  the  time  to  whom  could  be  ascribed  the 


THE  RESULTS  OF  THE  PROTESTANT  REVOLUTION      365 

stter  written  by  ^Wi])iatn  yf  Qpnyi^  to  the  magistrates  of  Mid-     ^1^ 

«Iburg.    "  Wc  declare  to  you/'  he  said,  "  that  you  have  no  right      

J  trouble  yourselves  with  any  man's  conscience  so  long  as  noth-  ***Meo« 
og  is  done  to  cause  private  harm  or  public  scandal." 

The  Protestant  Revolution,  then,  cannot  be  credited  with 
ither  an  immediate  or  a  conscious  furtherance  of  tolerance. 
fet  ultimately  and  unconsciously,  because  of  the  diversity  of 
pinions  to  which  it  gave  rise  and  the  historical  study  of  Chris- 
ianity  which  it  necessitated,  it  made  for  its  increase. 

The  theory  of  religious  tolerance  received  a  definitive  state-  ntSciB- 
tient  in  the  eighteenth  century  at  the  hands  of  Inmianuel  Kant,  ^^tanmit 
>ide  by  side  with  the  world  of  intelligence,  he  said,  is  the  world  of  «h« 
►f  the  will.    The  laws  of  the  latter  are  not  those  of  the  former.  SSSm 
)ne  is  moved  by  blind  forces,  the  other  by  a  free  force.    On^*«>«n««* 
8  governed  by  the  laws  of  nature,  the  other  by  the  moral  law.  | 
rhe  one  is  the  law  of  the  starry  sky  above  our  heads ;  the  other  1 
s  the  law  of  duty  deep  down  in  our  souls.    In  the  one  is  rigorous  | 
ertainty.    In  the  other  is  moral  certainty,  the  work  of  the  wil\ 
iid  the  emotions,  translating  itself  into  a  personal  conviction  asi  ^ 
mperative  as  it  is  undemonstrable.    In  the  one  field  the  con-  ' 
rolling  laws  are  absolute;  in  the  other,  in  which  religion  re- 
ides,  the  determining  factor  is  the  individual.    Of  what  avail 
s  compulsion  in  the  latter  field?    Wherein  lies  its  justification? 

In  the  midst  of  the  sixteenth  century,  with  all  its  poignant 
nterest,  men  looked  for  the  first  time  down  the  vista  of  spiritual 
reedom.  We  have  not  yet  arrived  at  the  end  of  the  road, 
rrue  it  is  that  we  no  longer  bum  men.  But  we  still  hate,  al- 
nost  unconsciously,  opinions  that  we  do  not  share.  We  can  put 
ip  with  another's  belief.  But  do  we  respect  it  and  regard  it  as 
ve  should  simply  because  it  is  the  belief  of  a  fellow  being?  Yet 
his  is  the  final  test  of  tolerance. 

So  much  for  the  results  of  the  Protestant  Revolution  to  faith  tim 
nd  worship.    Let  us  turn  to  its  results  to  morals.    Did  it  make  S^^t. 
he  world  better  than  it  found  it?    There  is  an  enormous  mass  ^^ 
){  testimony  that  would  seem  to  show  that  its  immediate  effect  toKondt 
iras  a  relaxation  of  the  restraints  of  religion  and  an  increase  of 
mmorality.    And  the  witnesses  who  testify  to  this  effect  are 
lot  all  men  who  were  opposed  to  the  movement.    The  reformers 
hemselves  made  many  frank  confessions  of  disappointment  and 
liscouragement  regarding  the  moral  outcome  of  their  work. 
Germany  is   as  it  were  drowned  in  gluttony,   drunkenness, 
varice  and  luxury,"  said  Amsdorf ,  the  Lutheran  superintendent ; 
and  the  Lutherans  have  really  no  respect  for  the  gospel ;  they 
lespise  it  as  much  as  any  one  in  the  world;  they  instdt  and 


366 


THE  PROTESTANT  REVOLUTION 


OBAP. 


1045-1600 


dishonor  it."    In  opposition  to  the  Catholic  salvation  by  good 
works  the  Revolution  had  emphasized  justification  by  faith  alone. 
Some  of  the  extreme  Lutherans  even  asserted  that  good  works 
were  prejudicial  to  salvation.    In  doing  this  they  emptied  faiA 
of  its  essence  and  left  it  little  else  than  a  mere  acceptance  of 
the  dogmas  of  their  Church.    Jacob  Andreae,  canon  and  chan^ 
cellor  of  Tubingen,  said  that  "  as  the  doctrine  of  justification  by 
faith  alone  was  preached  the  ancient  virtues  vanished  and  a 
crowd  of  new  vices  appeared  in  the  world."    Bucer,  who  helped 
to  establish  Protestantism  in  Strasburg  admitted  that  "corrup- 
tion makes  further  strides  every  day  in  the  evangelical  church." 
Melanchthon  averred  that  "  not  all  the  waters  of  the  Elbe  would 
be  sufficient  for  me  to  weep  over  the  evils  of  the  Reformation." 
And,  finally,  Luther  himself  said  that  "  there  is  not  one  of  our 
evangelicals  who  is  not  seven  times  worse  than  before  he  be-  ^ 
longed  to  us."    Is  it  true,  then,  that  the  Revolution  wrought 
only  a  dissolution  of  morality?    By  no  means.    Evidence  ad- 
duced by  the  opponents  of  the  movemerTrTequires  to  be  subjected 
to  a  critical  examination.    And  the  admissions  of  disappointment 
on  the  part  of  the  reformers  may  well  be  the  confessions  of  men 
who  were  disheartened  because  the  movement  did  not  immediately 
effect  a  sweeping  and  incontrovertible  reform.    Oftentimes  it  is 
the  friends  of  a  movement,  or  an  institution,  who  are  its  most 
exacting  critics.    They  expect  of  it  far  more  than  the  actual 
accomplishment.    Then,  too,  the  sixteenth  century  was  a  time  in 
which  we  naturally  expect  an  increase  of  immorality.     For  many 
generations  the  power  of  the  feudal  and  ecclesiastical  bonds  had 
been  gradually  diminishing.     The  individual  was  in  the  process 
of   emancipation.     Men  were  looking   forward   eagerly   into  a 
boundless  future.     Human  affairs  were  agitated  by  a  tempestu- 
ous  stream  of  new  forces,  that  as  yet  had  not  found  the  channels 
in  which  to-day  they  flow  with  comparative  tranquillity.     Un- 
;  checked   individuality  manifested  itself  everywhere  in  all  the 
i  activities  of  man.     It  was  highly  contagious.    And  oftentimes  it 
made  for  license  as  well  as  for  liberty.     Immorality  is  inseparable 
in  individual  cases  from  every  spiritual  upheaval.     In  the  six- 
r^teenth  century  it  was  enhanced  by  Luther's  doctrine  of  justifica- 
I  tion  because  very  naturally  the  pendulum  swung  to  the  other 
1  extreme  from  the  great  emphasis  which  the  Middle  Ages  had 
I  laid  upon  good  works.    Calvinism,  coming  at  a  latet  time,  was 
\  able  to  profit  by  the  experience  of  Lutheranism.     From  its  very  i 
beginning  it  endeavored  sternly  to  repress  immorality.    And  a/ 
practical  morality,  homely  rather  than  ascetic,  was  eventually 
evolved  by   Lutheranism  in  opposition   to   the   old   medieval 


THE  RESULTS  OF  THE  PROTESTANT  REVOLUTION      367 

morality.    The  Revolution  succeeded  to  the  sins  of  the  Middle     j^m 

Ages  and  to  the  excesses  of  the  unwonted  freedom  of  the  Renais-      

sance.    It  took  place  in  an  age  of  immorality.    And  so  perhaps  ^•^•-^••^ 
the  severest  indictment  that  can  be  brought  against  it  on  tUsI  1 

score  is  that  it  left  the  world  but  little  better  than  it  found  it. Jj 

What  were  the  results  of  the  Revolution  to  intellectual  ac-  - 

tivity,  to  education?    At  first,  as  we  have  seen,  there  had  been  timb*. 
a  rath^dyecOTnection  between,  the  humanists  and  the  htriTti^*^    S?r?ui 
They  Had  uniled'Tn  the  renunciation  of  medieval  asceticism  and  ••tMi 
in  the  application  of  the  principles  and  method  of  historical  u^mT* 
criticism  to  the  earliest  procurable  texts  of  the  Bible.    But  soon  ««* 
their  ways  began  to  diverge.    The  new  theological  interests  that 
were  created  began  to  thrust  the  work  of  secular  scholarship  into 
the  bad^ound.    "  The  triumph  of  the  Lutherans,"  said  Eras- 
mus, "is  the  death  of  good  learning."    And  the  immediate  in- 
fluence of  the  Revolution  in  Germany  was  such  as  to  justify  the 
worst  fears  of  the  prince  of  humanists.    The  cause  of  culture 
was  lost  in  the  bitterness  of  polemics.    The  spirit  of  free  in- 
quiry engendered  in  the  age  of  the  Renaissance  degenerated  into 
dogmatical  disputation.     Luther  damned  the  intellect  as  the  bride 
of  the  devil ;  and  Calvin  declared  natural  science  to  be  godless  and 
harmful.    Luther  wished  to  humiliate  reason,  even  to  annihilate 
it,  in  order  to  make  man  more  dependent  upon  faith.     There  is 
not  a  dogrm  of  Christianity,  he  said,  that  does  not  offend  human 
reason.    Each   of   the   new   state   churches   developed   a   new 
scholasticism  that  was  distinctly  hostile  to  freedom  of  thought. 
Protestantism  was  quite  as  antagonistic  to  the  Copemican  theory 
as  was  Catholicism.    Each  of  the  principal  evangelical  groups 
seemingly  endeavored  to  outdo  the  other  in  denouncing  the  new 
astronomical  theory  as  being  contrary  to  the  biblical  writings,  j 
The  facts  concerning  it  were  carefully  concealed  from  the  stu- 
dents at  Wittenberg.     Rheticus,  an  able  astronomer,  resigned  his 
position  there  and  left  the  town  in  order  that  he  might  be  free 
to  seek  the  truth  and  tell  it  to  the  world.    "  There  is  much  rea- 
son to  believe,"  says  Andrew  D.  White,  "  that  the  fettei 
scientific  thought  were  closer  under  the  strict  interpretation  of 

the  early  Frotestapts  thap  fhey  ht^Hb^  un^r  fj^^^ 

elderXhnx^i^'  Andhea3ds  that  "  in  the  times  immediately  suc- 
ceeding theReformation  matters  went  from  bad  to  worse.  Un- 
der Luther  and  Melanchthon  there  was  some  little  freedom  of 
speculation,  but  under  their  successors  there  was  none."  Fur- 
thermore, because  of  the  fact  that  the  Reformation  was  a  revolu- 
tion it  brought  in  its  train  many  disasters  that  were  fatal  to  edu- 
cation.    For  long  years  France,  the  Netherlands,  and  Germany, 


J68 


THE  PROTESTANT  REVOLUTION 


LM5-ieoo 


nlUof 
h«Prot* 

iftMit 
toTOllltlOB 


were  rent  with  war.  The  struggle  in  Germany  lasted  for  an  en- 
tire generation  and  put  back  civilization  for  more  than  a  century. 
Yet,  indirectly  and  unconsciously,  the  great  schism  did  some- 
thing for  intellectual  development.  Itj|gv£j3SCLJfiLilfil&^,,^^ 
compelled  both  Catholics  ^j}^  Protej^tantatn  undertake  mvestiga- 
jloni  ailJ  sugHflSSoqg^^It  broke  the  loagqfrevailmp  'tHlilV  Uf 
faitK'  WlltCB.  bv'^liminaBng  competition  of  thought, 
fatal  in  many  ways  to  pro^p'ess.  The  EitterriftSS  SUid  emnily  that 
ioll&W6d  tne  separation  were  most  deplorable;  but  that  separa- 
tion, nevertheless,  was  indirectly  of  inestimable  benefit  in  mak- 
ing greater  progress  possible.  "  So  long  as  the  average  man  ^^ 
quires  stimulation  from  without  as  well  as  from  within/'  says 
Henry  Charles  Lea,  "  so  long  as  progress  is  the  reward  only  of 
earnest  endeavor,  we  must  recognize  that  rivalry  is  the  condi- 
tion 4>recedent  of  advancement  and  that  competition  in  good 
works  is  the  most  beneficent  sphere  of  human  activity. 

The  results  of  the  Revolution  to  government,  like  its  other  ^^ 
suits,  have  been  stated  from  widely  different  points  of  view.  It 
has  been  described  by  some  as  paving  the  way  for  democracy, 
and  it  has  been  denounced  by  others  as  leading  directly  to  ab- 
solutism. In  its  origin  and  in  its  essence  the  Revolution  was  the 
substitution  of  private  judgment  for  authority.  But,  even  in  the 
sphere  of  religion,  it  soon  became  merely  the  substitution  of  one 
authority  for  another.  It  had  little  to  do  with  political  liberty. 
All  of  Calvin's  innovations  in  the  government  of  Geneva  were 
undemocratic.  Luther  told  the  rebellious  peasants  of  Germany 
that  when  the  Bible  speaks  of  freedom  it  means  only  spiritual 
freedom  and  that  it  contains  no  word  against  secular  slavery. 
He  firmly  upheld  as  unassailable  and  divine  the  political  or- 
ganization under  which  he  lived  and  labored.  Even  the  heathen 
state,  whose  superiority  in  worldly  matters  he  more  than  once 
extolled,  was  ordained  of  God  in  his  eyes.  And  a  prince  had 
better  be  prudent  and  not  good,  he  held,  than  good  and  not 
prudent.  To  such  a  magistrate  he  urged  the  people  to  render 
patient  and  implicit  obedience.  All  the  great  reformers  en-  | 
joined  passive  obedience  to  the  State.  Recalling  the  statement^ v, 
of  St.  Paul  that  "  the  powers  that  be  are  ordained  of  Qod,"  they 
declared  the  existing  governments  to  be  divinely  instituted  and 
therefore  possessed  of  unlimited  authority  to  enforce  their  will. 
Yet  the  effect  of  the  Revolution  upon  government  wajp  far  frcwn 
being  altogether  unfavorable.  The  distinction  between  State 
and  Church  was  emphasized  and  the  control  of  tha^  former  by 
the  latter  was  denied.    The  clergy  were  no  longer  pljaced  out- 


THE  RESULTS  OF  THE  PROTESTANT  REVOLUTION      369 

ide  the  opemtion  of  the  secular  law ;  and  iimnunities  and  special     ^Sm 
)rivil^;es  were  no  longer  claimed  for  them. 


Was  the  Protestant  Revolution  necessary?  Would  the  MotKfer  ,*•*"••• 
rhurch  have  effected  an  adequate  reformation?  In  order  to  an- 
swer this  question  it  is  necessary  to  determine  what  would  have 
yeca  an  adequate  reformation.  Among  officials  of  the  Church 
Jicre  was  little  desire  to  change  doctrine.  The  correction  of  the  ^^^^]!|^|j||^ 
lagrant  immorality  of  the  clergy  constituted  their  sole  idea  of  re-  vmm- 
Form.  This  was  the  aim  of  the  councils.  Discussion  of  re-  "*^ 
fbrmatory  measures  was  limited  almost  exclusively  to  discipline 
uid  the  excessive  power  of  the  pope.  And  what  could  be  ex- 
>ected  of  the  conciliar  movement  when  at  the  climax  of  its  power, 
md  with  the  full  approval  of  its  most  eminent  exponents, 
D'Ailly  and  Gerson,  it  merely  deprived  the  infamous  and  ir- 
religious John  XXIII  of  his  honors  while  it  burned  the  devout 
>ut  heretical  Hus  at  the  stake?  The  means  by  which  the  coun- 
:ils  sought  to  effect  their  limited  conception  of  reformation  was, 
moreover,  merely  a  transference  of  power  from  the  Papacy  to  the 
spiscopacy,  and  the  latter  was  quite  as  much  in  need  of  reform 
IS  was  the  former.  The  impossibility  of  carrying  out  a  thorough  / 
reform  within  the  Church  had  become  a  wide-spread  conviction  in/ 
the  fifteenth  century.  An  institution  that  claims  infallibility  fori 
its  cardinal  doctrines  cannot  be  expected  to  submit  those  tenets 
:o  the  law  of  progress,  jniallibflity  cannot  be  reformed^  It  cam 
be  changed  only  by  rev<Jiution.  in  so  lar  as  the  Kevolution  ef-\ 
fected,  either  directly  or  indirectly,  a  desirable  religious  andt 
philosophical  change,  it  performed  a  service  that  could  not  have 
been  rendered  by  the  ancestral  Church.  Could  such  a  change 
bave  been  effected  by  the  gradual  progress  of  civilization?  Our 
study  of  the  connection  between  humanism  and  heresy,  and  of 
beresy  in  the  Latin  lands,  shows  that  educated  men  were  going 
over  in  increasing  numbers  to  incredulity.  The  literary  pa- 
g;anism,  or  the  cold  rationalism,  toward  which  they  were  tend- 
ing could  not  have  satisfied  the  needs  of  the  mass  of  men.  Of 
such  is  not  the  bread  of  life  for  which  the  people  hungered. 
The  hearts  of  the  masses  yearned  for  religion.  In  the  revival  of 
religion,  in  the  saving  of  Europe  from  incredulity,  lies  the  in- 
dispensability  of  the  ecclesiastical  revolt.  That  revolt  is  not  to 
be  condemned  by  the  suffering  and  the  sorrow  that  followed  in 
its  wake,  any  more  than  our  own  Civil  War  is  to  be  condenmed 
by  the  disasters  that  accompanied  it  And  how  shall  we  say, 
with  our  knowledge  of  the  Inquisition,  that  the  defeat  of  the 
Revolution  would  have  lessened  the  suffering  of  men? 


370 


THE  PROTESTANT  REVOLUTION 


1545-1600 


The  Protestant  Revolution  was  by  no  means  a  complete  move- 
ment.   The  sixteenth  century  saw  neither  its  b^inning  nor  its 
end.    No  such  vital  movement  comes  to  an  end  at  a  given  date, 
but  continues  on  its  way,  transmuted  but  undiminished,  along 
The  Prot-     the  great  arteries  of  the  world.    Life  is  fluid.    Its  horizons  are 
JJJJJJj^^ « always  being  extended.    Religion  is  always  being   reformed. 
nokaoom^f  Less  and  less  do  we  endeavor  to  confine  it  within  the  shell  of 
J^^JJJu^^ll  some  dogmatic  system.    Instead  we  seek  to  interweave  it  with 
lour  daily  lives.    It  is  not  an  institution  but  rather  a  leaven,  an 
latmosphere,  an  influence,  a  vital  and  penetrating  spirit.    And  if 
'the  sixteenth  century  has  any  word  to  say  to  our  own  it  is  that 
any  attempt  to  harden  religion  into  an  institution  inevitably  re- 
sults only^in  sorrow,  in  suffering,  and  in  failure.    Absolute  truth 
lies  beyond  the  grasp  of  man.    Man  must  be  content  to  increase 
his  store  of  relative  truth  with  the  changing  centuries.    We  are 
abandoning  the  ideal  of  immutable  truth  for  the  ideal  of 
sive"  liuUi.     Ihis  is  an  unlooked-for  result  of  the  Protestant 
Revolution  that  is  slowly  but  surely  making  its  way  to  the  sur*- 
face.    The  deepest  significance  of  the  Revolution  lies  not  in  its 
[negative  element,  nor  in  the  facts  that  it  gave  birth  to  new 
dogmas  and  organized  new  churches,  but  in  its  deepening  of  the 
religious  sentiment,  the  awakening  of  which  we  have  studied  in 
the  Revival  of  Conscience,  in  its  increasing  in  the  hearts  of  men 
the  desire  to  be  in  haf^ony  with  God.    In  doing  this  it  exag- 
gerated the  dogmas  of  original  sin,  grace,  and  predestination,  to 
such  a  point  as  to  reduce  man  to  a  cipher.     The  rectification  of 
this  error  is  the  task  of  the  later  stages  of  the  movement.     "  If  a 
man  has  guided  humanity  toward  the  future,"  says  Laurent,  "  we 
account  him  great  among  the  great.     If  a  revolution  has  advanced 
humanity  towards  its  final  destiny,  we  admire  and  glorify  it.     Our 
conviction  is  that  the  Reformation  was  one  of  those  glorious 
movements  of  the  htmian  mind." 


\ 


CHAPTER  XIX 

THE  DEVELOPMENT  OF  LETTERS  AND  ART 

1.  The  Development  of  Literature. 

2.  The  Development  of  Architecture, 

3.  The  Development  of  Sculpture. 

4.  The  Development  of  Painting. 

LL  through  the  agitations  of  the  Protestant  Revolution  the     ^g/^- 

Renaissance  continued  its  development  in  letters  and  in  art.      

:  is  to  Italy,  of  course,  that,  first  of  all,  we  must  turn  to  note  **^*^ 
le  progress  of  cuhure.  The  revival  of  the  art  and  thought  of 
3tiquity  and  the  quickened  powers  and  developed  tastes  of  the 
alians  were  resulting  in  a  harvest  that  grew  richer  as  the  years 
nroUed.  More  and  more  did  the  individual  become  free  from 
aditional  and  arbitrary  servitude.  This  freedom  is  strikingly 
lustrated  by  the  work  of  Matteo  Maria  Boiardo  (1434-94) 
ho,  at  the  Court  of  Ferrara,  where  the  most  beautiful  of  all  the 
talian  poems  of  the  fifteenth  and  sixteenth  centuries  were 
ritten,  turned  from  a  political  life  to  devote  himself  to  the 
nnance  of  chivalry.  His  masterpiece  is  the  great  romance  of 
Orlando  Inamorato,  destined  to  be  cut  short  with  his  untimely 
tid  and  that  of  his  country's  liberty.  Even  in  its  unfinished 
^te  it  is  one  of  the  most  notable  products  of  Italian  literature.  Boiirte 
omething  of  the  fascination  which  the  legends  of  Charle- 
lagne's  paladins  and  the  knights  of  King  Arthur  exercised  over 
ie  Italians  may  have  been  guessed  from  the  delight  of  the  cul- 
ired  Florentines  in  the  Morgante  Maggiore  of  Luigi  Pulci.  At 
le  courts  of  Milan,  Mantua,  and  Ferrara  the  lettered  aristocracy 
ecame  enamored  of  love  and  courtoisie.  Boiardo  determined 
riiM!>f6i'iH  the  rude  warriors  ot  Charieiflagne  into  those  knights 
f  the  Round  Table  whom  time  had  rendered  more  gentle  and 
icrefore  more  acceptable  to  the  society  for  which  his  romance, 
Titten  in  verse,  was  designed.  So  from  the  cycle  of  the  wise 
nd  mighty  emperor  he  took  his  heroes,  known  and  loved  above 
II  others  by  the  public  that  was  to  read  his  poem,  and  the  main 
nes  of  their  story;  while  all  the  remainder,  the  amours, 
sakmsies,  rivalries,  feminine  ruses,  and  the  psychology  and  the 

371 


372  THE  PROTESTANT  REVOLUTION 


ogff'  magic,  he  appropriated  from  the  older  cyde  of  the  Celtic  Ui^ 
--— .  Boiardo  was  not  the  first  to  attempt  such  a  fusion.  Both  qrdc% 
^•^^•••^  muddled  and  marred  by  many  a  jongleur  and  weaver  of  ro- 
mance, had  lost  much  of  their  true  character  through  fusion  aod 
obliteration  before  they  came  to  his  hands.  But  hitherto  die 
combination  had  been  accidental.  The  fusion  effected  by  Boiardo 
was  done  with  such  art  that  he  created  a  new  world  of  the 
imagination,  full  of  charm,  that  is  far  removed  from  both 
the  sources  from  which  it  was  derived.  Roland  in  Love— 
the  very  name  suggests  the  revolution  demanded  by  the  feudalism 
that  had  become  courtly  and  elegant,  the  soil  from  whidi 
sprang,  with  the  slight  exception  of  the  Morgante,  all  the 
chivalrous  poetry  of  the  Renaissance.  Boiardo  well  knew  thalf 
his  heroes  and  heroines  are  merely  modem  men  and  women 
accoutered  in  the  bright  trappings  of  the  departed  age  of 
chivalry;  and  either  his  own  C3micism  or  the  Italian  incapacity 
to  penetrate  to  the  heart  of  mysticism  forbade  a  single  one  of  hb-l 
characters  to  set  foot  ''in  the  city  of  Sarras,  in  the  splritoal 
place."  But  the  licentious  gaiety  of  Puld  is  replaced  by  the 
kmdiy  smile  of  the  man  who,  though  he  knows  that  his  characters 
are  merely  figures  in  a  literary  pageant,  has  yet  an  obvious  affec- 
tion for  them.  Into  the  fairyland  of  the  wizard  Boiardo  the 
Ferrarese  entered  with  delight;  and  despite  the  fact  that  Lom- 
bardy  seemed  transformed  into  a  permanent  battle-field  the  story 
of  Orlando  was  destined  to  be  continued  ere  long  by  a  poet  of 
greater  imagination  and  creative  power. 

Lodovico  Ariosto  (1474-1533)  took  jap  the  thread  of  the 
medieval  romance  at  the  point  where  Boiardo,  stricken  with 
grief  on  account  of  the  descent  of  Charles  VIII  upon  his  coun- 
try, had  let  it  fall  unfinished  from  his  hands.  He  was  a  more 
versatile  genius  than  was  Boiardo,  having  a  consummate  com- 
mand of  the  language  he  used,  a  music  that  is  orchestral  in  its 
Ariofto  richness.  He  accepted  the  fusion  of  the  Carolingian  and  Ar- 
thurian legends  that  had  been  so  effectively  accomplished  by  his 
predecessor  and  infused  ipto  it  much  that  was  derived  from 
classical  sources.  Thus  while  it  continues  the  matter  of  the 
earlier  poems  the  Orlando  Furioso  is  by  no  means  merely  a 
sequel.  It  differs  in  spirit  and  in  treatment,  too,  as  well  as  in 
matter;  for  while  the  story  of  Orlando  in  love  is  a  romance 
written  in  verse  the  narrative  of  his  madness  is  an  epic  steeped 
in  the  atmosphere  of  romance.  The  chaos  of  adventures,  despite 
the  multitude  of  episodes  which  the  epic  contains,  is  reduced  to 
something  like  order :  and  on  every  page  are  to  be  found  the  in- 
terpolated remarks,  relating  to  contemporary  persons  and  things. 


THE  DEVELOPMENT  OF  LETTERS  AND  ART    373 

[uite  oit  of  keeping  with  the  impersonal  character  of  the  true     ^^^Iff- 

pic»  tbt  the  poet  permitted  himself  to  make.    But  it  is  in  the     

Tcaaiks  with  which  the  various  cantos  are  prefixed,  informed  **^^*^ 
rith  his  salient  common  sense,  enlivened  with  his  wit,  and 
dodied  with  his  irresponsible  irony,  that  Ariosto,  moralizing 
boot  the  characters  of  his  story  and  the  men  and  the  things  of 
is  own  day  that  had  arrested  his  attention,  discourses  at  great- 
st  length.  So  the  Orlando  Furioso  goes  its  way,  making  men 
lugfa,  it  is  true,  but  above  all  charming  them  with  its  beauty, } 
relding  together  the  three  streams  of  classical  life,  medieval ' 
fe,  and  contemporary  life  that  went  to  form  the  civilization  of 
le  Renaissance.  The  chief  defect  is  the  absence  of  noble 
It  Yet  its  golden  splendor,  its  soaring  fantasy,  which  en- 
tt  to  run  gaily  through  a  thousand  scenes,  its  passionate 
sometimes  poignant  beauty,  the  charm  with  which  it  depicts 
and  dreams  and  loves  of  men,  make  it  one  of  the 
^expressions  of  the  disenchantment  of  the  Italians  of  the 
igli  H|BQS^i8sance  with  all  sublime  faith  and  their  absorption  in 
le  beatify  of  the  world  about  them. 

FromNWs  youth  Nicolo  MachiavelU  (146271527),  the  first  of  ^ 

ic  writert^in  prose  whom  we  shall  consider,  was  engaged,  at    *^f^ 
ome  and  a?>road,  in  the  practise  of  public  affairs ;  and  thus  he      '  vl  ^ 
lined  an  insJight  into  the  important  questions  of  domestic  and        j     . 
>reign  policy.  \  He  became  convinced  of  the  inadvisability  of  ^ 

itrusting  the  defense  of  the  free  institutions  of  Florence,  his  KMbiA. 
ativc  city,  to  mercenaries,  and  wished  to  see  it  placed  in  the  JJ^uo?^ 
ands  of  the  armed  ^izens.    This  was  the  dominating  thought  to  ohru- 
f  his  life.    But  his  interests  were  not  confined  to  a  single  city.  ***^^ 
le  was  oppressed  with  grief  at  the  evils  from  which  the  whole  of 
taly  suffered.    Yet  hope  d^^lt  within  his  breast,  for  he  had  a 
oundless  confidence  in  the  remedial  power  of  politics.    When 
lie  successful  conspiracy  of  15 12  put  Florence  once  more  into 
be  hands  of  the  Medici  and  compelled  him  to  retire  to  San 
lascino  his  life  of  incessant  activity  was  suddenly  changed  to 
fie  of  comparative  leisure.    To  his  political  experience  he  added 
.  study  of  the  Roman  world.    The  combination  of  experience, 
tndy,  and  reflection  ripened  his  genius  and  he  became  a  great 
Dtellectual  power.    He  revealed  a  new  aspect  of  mankind.    In 
he  midst  of  the  interminable  quarrels  of  the  numerous  petty 
>tates  of  the  peninsula,  of  a  society  given  over  very  largdy  to 
Measure,  and  of  unlimited  ambition  for  self-aggrandizement  on 
he  part  of  unscrupulous  individuals,  there  floated  before  his  eyes 
he  Roman  idea  of  government    The  State  was  to  dominate  life. 
knd  religion  and  morals  were  to  bt  included  in  this  control  as 


374  THE  PROTESTANT  REVOLUTION  ,. 


) 


well  as  politics.  He  was  an  outspoken  opponent  of  Christiaiu^ 
"  This  religion/'  he  said  in  his  Discourses,  "  makes  us  prize  Im 
^••^^'^  highly  the  honor  of  the  world  and  therefore  makes  us  geoftr 
and  meeker.  But  the  ancients  looked  upon  that  honor  as  IIm 
highest  good,  and  were  therefore  bolder  in  their  deeds.  Tluir 
religion  declared  only  those  men  blessed  who  were  splendid  in  tiie 
eyes  of  the  world  as  leaders  of  armies  or  rulers  of  States. 
Christianity,  on  the  other  hand,  distinguishes  the  htuid>le  and 
lowly  more  than  men  of  action.  It  considers  the  highest  good  to 
be  humility,  meekness,  and  contempt  of  the  things  of  .the  wqHdJ . 
The  old  religion  looked  upon  greatness  of  soul,  bodily  stra«jtdi«f 
and  all  else  that  makes  men  brave,  as  the  chief  things  to  be  de« 
sired.  Our  religion  requires  strength  more  as  a  means  of  Igj^'i- 
ing  suffering  than  as  a  means  of  accomplishing  doughty  de^jts. 
Thus  the  world  has  become  a  prey  to  wicked  men  who,  lin|dis- 
turbed,  dispose  of  it  as  they  will."  It  is  not  difficult  froikytfiis 
estimate  of  Christianity  to  arrive  at  Machiavelli*s  fundanental 
idea  of  all  religion.  Religion  is  undesirable  unless  it  pwduces 
moral  character,  loyalty  to  the  State  and  effective  cititenship 
And  such  a  religion,  he  thought,  is  nothing  but  the  im^cntion  of 
man.  Morality  might  come  either  directly  or  indirec^y  through 
the  medium  of  such  a  religion,  but  in  the  final  analyses  it  was  due 
to  education  by  the  State.  Thus  did  he  regard  all/jiiiman  affairs 
from  the  single  point  of  view  of  politics.  Th^  reports  of  the 
Venetian  ambassadors  of  the  time  show  us  thaj^  he  did  not  origi- 
nate this  simplified  and  objective  way  of  look'mg  at  life;  but  he  it 
was  who  brought  it  to  perfection  and  made^it  the  root  principle  of 
political  science.  In  him  the  powerful  will  of  the  Roman  system 
which  regarded  the  control  of  all  phajses  of  human  activity  and 
thought  as  the  sole  object  of  life  vas  bom  anew.  Such  a  dom- 
inating will  could  be  brought  into  existence  only  by  the  creation 
of  a  monarchy  that  should  include  the  entire  peninsula. 

Machiavelli's  fundamental  principle  is  the  uniformity  of  hu- 
man nature.    Men  cannoc  alter  themselves;  they  are  bound  to 
JI^JjJJ^     /  follow  where  nature  leads.    In  order,  therefore,  to  reach  the  1 
mental        future  we  must  study  the  past    Men  have  always  the  same  pas-s^ 
^'*"**'^     sions,  and  therefore  the  same  cause  must  always  produce  the 
same  effect.    Upon  this  fundamental  assumption  did  he  base  the 

(possibility  of  a  science  of  politicsS  Thus  could  the  future  be 
predicted;  thus  could  history  be  utilized.  His  conception  of 
society  is  static.  The  idea  of  progress  is  entirely  foreign  to 
him.  And  in  this  uniform  nature  of  man  he  could  find  no  moral 
autonomy.  He  had  no  idea  of  an  independent  morality  pro- 
ceeding   from    the    conscience    of    the    individual.    The    onlv 


THE  DEVELOPMENT  OF  LETTERS  AND  ART    375 


^ 


snonlity  of  which  he  was  aware  is  that  which  is  inctilcated  by     ^£a ' 

ihe  State.    Men  have  an  irresistible  inclination  to  fall  into  evil      

practices^  he  thought,  if  there  is  nothing  to  counteract  their  de-  ^^^^^^"^ 
mxc  to  do  so.  It  is  this  inclination  towards  evil  that  in  the 
past  corrupted  the  primitive  monarchy.  The  aristocratic  or- 
ganization that  ensued  passed,  in  its  turn,  by  the  same  law  of 
human  nature,  into  the  oligarchy  with  its  evils,  into  democracy, 
and  then  into  anarchy.  After  that,  the  wheel  having  turned  full 
circle,  the  monarchy  was  restored.  Such  is  the  cycle  run  by  the 
nature  of  man.  The  most  important  task  of  statesmanship  is 
therefore  clear.  It  must  check  the  undesirable  tendency  of  man- 
kind. And  should  it  have  fallen  from  power  it  must  not  hesi- 
tate to  employ  any  means  that  will  effect  its  restoration. 

The  resuscitation  of  the  Roman  idea  of  government,  the  estab- 
lishment of  a  national  monarchy,  Machiavelli  desired  to  for-  XMhift. 
ward  by  his  writings.    He  was  the  first  among  the  Romanic  IJ^* 
peoples  to  assert  the  imperial  and  regimental  idea  of  the  Roman! 
world  under  the  changed  conditions  of  modem  times.    The  ideal 
of  dominion  in  all  its  primitive  force  burned  within  his  breast. 
In  society  as  he  saw  \\  there.  w;^^^ly  one  really  creative  power  — 
}\f^  putf ^erful  will.    Religion  for  its  own  sake  and  the  individual 
artistic  genius  m  which  his  own  age  was  so  rich  were  alike  ig- 
nored.   The  success  of  the  dominating  will,  he  believed,  depends 
upon  the  cooperation  of  men  with  fate.    "  F^ite  derides  one,  half  ^ 
of  oiiy  en^^^rprise*;^'*  he  said,  "  while  she  /J^ves,  the  other  lialf 
tp  yir^lvgg  "    Napoleon  would  have  been  the  veritable  incarna- 
tion of  his  imperial  idea;  but  he  had  to  content  himself  with 
3uch  patterns  as  the  time  afforded,  with  the  Medicis  and  the 
Borgias. 

Machiavelli's  fundamental  idea  of  human  society  is  contained 
in  his  Discourses  upon  Titus  Livius;  and  his  idea  of  a  dominating  XMhia. 
will  found  eloquent  expression  in  The  Prince,  a  bode  that  had  a  5mi«i 
great  influence  throughout  Europe.    The  Discourses  deals  with 
the  r^;eneration  of  a  corrupt  political  life  by  a  prince.   The  aim  of 
_  setting  up  jn  Italy  of  a  national  mnnarr^ 

It  is  a  minute  analysis  of  tHe  conditions  under  which  the  crea- 
tion of  a  national  monarchy  in  Italy  appeared  possible  at  that 
time.  The  prince  was  not  to  prefer  unworthy  methods,  but  he 
was  to  be  hampered  by  no  scruples.  Violence  and  treason,  if 
need  be,  he  was  to  use.  He  must  excel  all  rivals  in  the  employ- 
ment of  craft  and  cruelty.  The  end  would  justify  the  means. 
This  it  is  that  has  received  the  name  of  "  machiavdlism,"  and 
that  has  given  to  the  author  a  sinister  reputation.  But  Machia- 
velli did  not  make  of  these  things  a  permanent  method  to  be  em- 


376 


THE  PROTESTANT  REVOLUTION 


aowMo 


oflUekl*- 


KMhlft- 
Bfrtorlan 


ployed  tinder  the  ordinary  conditions  of  life.  The  sepuite 
publication  of  the  two  bodes  prevented  the  recognition  of  the 
fact  that  m  The  Prince  a  physician  was  prescribing  dtspcntt 
remedies  to  a  sick  man  whose  case  was  well  nigh  hopeless,  and 
that  by  no  means  did  he  purpose  to  resort  to  sudi  perilous  pnc- 
tices  with  every  patient  that  came  under  his  care.  The  Euro- 
pean public  failed  to  get  the  context  that  limited  the  appUcatioa 
of  the  unscrupulous  system  it  described  and  advocated. 

Too  many  things  were  left  out  of  Machiavdli's  view  of  so- 
cietj^  Of  economic  development  he  took  no  acoounti  of  a  sensi- 
tive'aiiS  active  consdence  that  determines  the  deeds  of  men  he 
did  not  dream ;  of  social  progress  he  had  no  thought ;  of  the  fact 
that  a  nation  cannot  be  made  by  the  arbitrary  will  of  a  single 
man  but  that  its  growth  is  just  as  organic  in  its  own  way  as  b 
that  of  a  plant  he  had  no  suspicion ;  and  in  an  aspiring  rdigion 
that  transforms  and  sublimates  the  ideals  of  men  he  did  not  b^ 
lieve. 

The  writings  of  Machiavdli  deal  with  history  as  wdl  as  mA 
the  theory  of  society  and  its  government  To  him  was  entmsted 
by  cardinal  Giulio  de'  Medici  the  task  of  writing  the  story  of 
Florence.  Emphasis  is  laid  in  the  work  upon  the  achievements 
of  the  patron's  house.  The  old  method  of  explaining  events  by 
the  intervention  of  the  deity  is  discarded  and  an  attempt  is  made 
to  interpret  the  laws  that  govern  the  life  of  peoples.  The  work 
partakes  of  the  character  of  a  philosophy  of  politics;  and  in  it 
one  sees  the  endeavor  of  the  author  to  verify  the  theories  that 
he  professed.  No  interest  in  facts  for  their  own  sake  is  dis- 
cernible. It  IS  a  lively  narrative,  richly  colored,  and  not  un- 
touched with  a  certain  majesty.  Gradually  he  reentered  the  serv- 
ice of  his  native  city.  But  because  of  his  association  with  the 
Medici  he  was  discarded  as  a  suspect  when,  in  1527,  for  a  sec- 
ond time,  that  family  was  exiled  from  Florence.  He  died  in  the 
year  of  his  disgrace,  leaving  to  another  the  task  of  going  on  with 
his  narrative  from  the  point  where  he  had  left  it. 

The  man  who  continued  the  history  of  Florence,  Francegco 
GuicciaQJinW  1482-1540) ,  was  one  of  the  keenest  observers  of 
society  that  Tias  ever  recorded  the  things  he  witnessed.  Like 
his  predecessor  he  gained  experience  in  the  field  of  practical 
politics  and  he  had  a  varied  opportunity  for  direct  observation. 
Circumstances  eventually  compelled  him  to  retire  into  private 
life,  and  there  it  was  that  he  began  his  remarkable  History  of 

I  Italy.  It  was  his  idea  that  the  supreme  aim  of  all  human 
action  is  private  interest.  The  part  of  wisdom,  under  all  cir- 
cumstances, is  to  escape  with  a  whole  skin.    The  social  de- 


THE  DEVELOPMENT  OF  LETTERS  AND  ART    377 

moralizatiofi  suggested  by  Machiavelli  becomes  in  Guicciardini     ^^q  ' 

i^>en  and  avowed.    Machiavelli  threw  morality  to  the  winds,  but     

he  did  ao  in  the  faith  that  thereby  a  sacred  cause  would  be  sub-     ^^^^^-^ 
served.    Guicciardini  believed  that  only  a  fool  would  prefer  a 
public  cause  to  personal  welfare.    He  was  more .  interested  in  cwooiar- 
the  facts  of  history  than  was  his  predecessor  and  in  their  accur-  J^ji™*" 
ate  interpretation.    He  was  distrustful  of  general  ideas.    The  xiaij 
critical  sense  was  alert  within  him.    With  his  eminently  practical 
mind  he  pointed  out  the  fact  that  the  conditions  of  Roman  regi- 
mental government  could  not  be  applied  with  success  to  the  en- 
tirely different  conditions  of  contemporary  Italy.    His  profound 
experience  of  political  affairs  is  set  forth  in  his  Recordi.    With 
a  cynicism  that  is  perhaps  unconscious  he  tells  us  how  he  in-  , 
variably  pursued  his  personal  welfare.    "  My  private  interest," 
he  declares,  *^  has  obliged  me  to  attach  myself  to  the  power  of  the 
Church ;  otlierwise  I  should  have  loved  Martin  Luther  as  much 
as  mysdf."    But  it  is  his  History  of  Italy  that  is  for  us  his 
most  important  work.    In  it  he  narrates  in  chronological  order 
the  story  of  each  of  the  different  States  of  the  peninsula,  and  at 
the  same  time  he  indicates  their  inter-relations.    The  history  is 
unusually  trustworthy,  and  through  it  there  flows  a  stream  of  * ' 
supple  and  vivacious  thought.    But  its  style  and  minuteness  of  • 
detail  make  it  laborious  reading ;  and  the  total  absence  of  the  ele-  • 
ments  of  morality  and  religion  is  a  repellent  characteristic.    The  • 
explanation  of  this  lack  lies  not,  it  would  seem,  so  much  in  the. 
character  of  the  man  as  in  the  decadent  character  of  the  age. 

Pius  II  was  the  last  pope  that  we  noticed  as  a  patron  of  litera-  LsoXm 
ture  and  art    From  him  we  leap  to  Leo  X  (1513-21),  that  ac-  Jf^^^ 
complished  and  urbane  prince  of  the  Medicean  house  who  made  xattnusr* 
Rome  a  protean  metropolis.    The  character  of  Leo  is  to  be  j 
found  less  in  his  official  acts  than  in  the  spirit  that  he  fostered  inf 
the  Church  and  at  his  court.    He  was  a  Ciceronian,  devoted  tof 
the  (Qamier  of  literature  rather  than  to  its  matter.    Spiritual 
things  engaged  his  attention  but  slightly,  while  ttie  things  of  art 
held  for  him  an  absorbing  interest.    He  reestablished  the  Sapi- 
enza,  a  collie  that  had  been  founded  by  Eugene  IV  for  the 
study  of  classical  letters,  and  thus  conferred  a  great  benefit  upon 
Ac  youth  of  Rome.    Everywhere  his  envoys  searched  for  manu- 
scripts of  classical  writings  not  yet  recovered  from  their  dusty 
hiding-places,  and  their  search  was  not  unrewarded.    The  energy 
of  this  literary  pontiff,  with  his  many-sided  interests,  was  de- 
voted to  the  development  of  letters  and  of  art ;  but  by  the  time  j 
his  pontificate  drew  to  a  close  the  flower  of  humanism  was  fast  1 
going  to  seed.    Humanism  was  becoming  engrossed  in  the  letter 


^ 


THE  PROTESTANT  REVOLUTION 


v^  lifceramre  rather  than  in  its  spirit;  it  was  spending  its  energy 
upon  ti^nn  rather  than  upon  subject-matter.  The  care  for  beauty, 
jrace;  ami  harmony,  came  to  be  the  foundation  of  all  moral  toor 
^xpdon  of  life. 

Two  men  of  letters,  both  of  them  papal  secretaries,  stand  out 
;tt)Qve  due  others  at  the  court  of  Leo.  The  first,  Pietro  Bembo 
i^  1470-1547),  a  Venetian  educated  in  Florence,  the  dictator  of  • 
Itiliaa  literature,  was  the  pleading  eroonent  of  CiceronJagism* 
Perhaps  the  most  importantonris'"Wo3cs'are  a  brief  treatise  on 
Italian  prose  and  a  dialogue,  entitled  Gli  Asolani  from  Asdo 
where  the  scene  is  laid,  in  which  Platonic  affection  is  explained 
and  recommended.  His  mind  was  open,  flexible,  and  inquiring, 
ijxcking  all  creative  power  he  endeavored  to  clothe  in  the  most 
Ciceronian  of  Latin,  or  the  most  Petrarchian  of  Italian,  the  ideas 
he  borrowed  from  others.  His  delicate  sense  of  style  and  his 
impeccable  workmanship  scarcely  conceal  the  absence  of  thought 
and  feeling ;  but  so  distinguished  and  charming  was  his  conversa- 
tion and  so  tactful  his  intercourse  with  his  fellow-men  that  he 
enjoyed  a  personal  authority  seldom  exercised  by  men  of  letters. 

MVith  the  other  papal  secretary.  Tacopo  Sadoleto  (1477-1547). 
we  have  already  had  to  do  as  orieof  the  Italian  reformers  who 

^  sought  to  mediate  between  Catholic  and  Protestant  His  poem 
on  the^Laocoon  and  his  treatises  on  various  subjects  display  a 
command  of  Latin  second  only  to  that  of  Bembo  in  elcganct  of 
style.  He  was  never  in  sympathy  with  the  papal  court ;  and  he 
preferred  to  exercise  as  a  peacemaker  his  remarkable  administra- 
tive ability. 

At  Rome  there  also  lived  for  many  years  Baldassare  Cas- 
tiglione  (147&-1529)  envoy  of  the  duke  of  Urbino  to  the  papal 
court.  One  of  the  most  attractive  figures  of  the  Renaissance  at 
its  height,  this  distinguished  diplomatist  and  man  of  letters  en- 
tered in  succession  the  service  of  the  dukes  of  Milan,  Mantua, 
and  Urbino.  He  wrote  some  elegant  verses  in  Latin  and  Italian, 
and  some  graceful  letters  that  are  full  of  delicate  feeling;  but 
the  most  important  of  his  writings  is  the  famous  treatise  in  four 
books,  written  in  15 14-18,  printed  by  the  Aldine  press  at  Venice 
in  1528,  and  called  The  Courtier.  The  book  purports  to  recount 
the  discussions  that  took  place  at  four  consecutive  meetings  of 
the  brilliant  society  in  the  palace  of  Urbino.  The  question  de- 
bated was,  What  are  the  qualities  whose  union  makes  the  perfect 
I  type  of  the  courtier?  It  is  a  true  and  charming  picture  of  the 
most  attractive  court  of  the  time.  The  perfect  courtier,  it  was 
decided,  is  one  who  is  accomplished,  noble,  athletic,  skilled  in 
war,  which  is  his  natural  profession,  able  to  write  and  to  speak 


THE  DEVELOPMENT  OF  LETTERS  AND  ART    379 


wdl,  musical,  a  lover  of  painting,  devoid  of  affectation,  and  will-     ^Jnf * 

ing  and  loyal  in  the  service  of  his  prince.    Among  those  who  most      

completely  realized  this  ideal  was  the  author  of  this  "  book  of    ^^^^^^"^ 
gold." 

In  the  prose  narrative,  also,  did  the  development  of  literature  x>«T«iop- 
go  on  apace.    And,  because  it  was  more  independent  of  antique  SI?PMt 
influence  and  more  in  conformity  with  the  realistic  traditions  of  Harr»tf¥» 
the  popular  literature,  the  novel  was  the  most  original  tjrpe  of 
Italian  prose.    Many  types  of  the  novel  abounded  in  Italy  in 
the  latter  half  of  the  fifteenth  century  and  the  first  half  of  the 
sixteenth.    The  earliest  successors  of  Boccaccio  were  Sacchetti 
(1335-1410)  and  his  contemporary  Fiorentino.    But  all  through 
ibe  fifteenth  century  there  were  imitations  of  the  Decamerone. 
Important  in  its  influence  upon  the  rise  of  the  novel  was  the 
work  of  the  Neapolitan  poet  Jacopo  Sannazaro  (1454-1530), 
whose  pastoral  poem  Arcadia  was   derived   from   Boccaccio's 
Ameto  and  served  in  its  turn  as  the  model  for  Sir  Philip  Sid- 
ney's classic  romance.    Over  the  stories  of  most  of  the  novellieri 
we  may  pass  quickly  and  pause  to  note  The  Pleasing  Nights  of  / 
Straparola  (i495?-i557?)  who  was  the  first  writer  to  use  popu-/ 
lar  folk-lore  as  the  bases  of  his  stories  and  whose  fiction,  despiter 
its  shortcomings  in  the  matter  of  style,  possesses  unusual  jpharm, 
is  not  untouched  of  passion,  and  has  the  advantage  of  a  mise-en- 
scene  at  once  lovely  and  appropriate.     Matteo  Bandello  (1480?- 
1561 )  was  a  story-teller  who  had  seen  many  lanHs  and  who  had 
lived  in  cloisters  and  at  courts.    He  was  a  realist,  and  in  his 
stories  there  live  again  many  of  the  interesting  characters  he  met ; 
and  there,  too,  are  preserved  the  ideas  and  the  sentiments  of  the 
varied  society  in  which  he  mingled.    His  stories  were  evidently 
freely  composed,  for  they  read  like  improvisations,  like  the  spon- 
taneous narratives  of  a  gifted  speaker,  rather  than  like  the 
deverly  constructed  novels  of  a  writer  capable  of  subtle  analysis 
and  compact  organization. 

In  still  another  line,  the  drama,  did  Italian  literature  find  de-  d«t«iop- 
velopment.  We  have  already  noticed  Poliziano's  Orfeo,  which  JJJ*^ 
although  only  the  shell  of  a  play  was  the  first  Italian  drama  to 
possess  a  literary  quality.  Plays  continued  to  be  written  in  both 
Latin  and  Italian.  Among  the  authors  who  contributed  to  this 
literary  form  were  Boiaj[do,  Ariosto,  and  Machiavelli.  The 
Mandraqota  of  the  last  author  was  composed  in  his  enforced 
retirement  at  San  Casciano.  It  is  a  bold  revelation  of  the  im- 
morality of  the  age  and  a  keen  satire  upon  the  state  of  con- 
temporary society.  The  action,  which  conforms  to  the  classical 
requirements,  is  rapid,  the  dialogue  sparkles  with  wit,  and  the 


38o 


THE  PROTESTANT  REVOLUTION 


lSOO-64 


angtlo'i 

Znilneiict 

nponAr- 


1 


Dtrelop- 
ment  of 
Sculpture 


characters,  taken  from  the  Florentine  life  of  the  tinier  are  o- 
ceptionally  well-drawn.    The  fact  that  this  comedy  of  inunonlitf 
threw  Leo  X  and  his  cardinals  into  fits  of  laughter  is  singnlailf 
indicative  of  the  temper  of  the  time.    The  five  comedies  of 
Ejetro  Aretino  (i4Q2-i.t;.'>6).  that  literary  blackguard  and  socnl 
parasite  who  besmirched  the  very  name  of  his  birthplace,  who 
made  profitable  the  practice  of  revealing  or  concealing  the  most 
salacious  of  private  scandals,  realistically  depicted  many  of  die 
most  deplorable  customs  of  the  age.    Amid  all  his  highly-colored, 
witty,  and  vivacious  scenes,  there  is  not  a  single  situation  dealt 
with  in  a  broad  and  satisfying  manner;  nor  amid  all  his  figures 
is  there  one  whose  characterization  is  complete.    Yet  he  helped 
to  send  the  drama  along  the  right  path,  that  of  the  direct  observa- 
tjon  of  life,  which  the  mere  imitators  of  antiquity  shunned. 
'^Turning  to  architecture  we  find  that  the  secularization  of  the  - 
art  which  we  have  already  noticed  was  continued  in  Italy  while 
north  of  the  Alps  the  ecclesiastical  revolution  was  swelling  to 
flood  tide.    The  overwhelming  genius  of  Michelangelo  (i^y5-_ 
1564^  displayed  itself  in  architecture  as  well  as  in 'sculpture  and 
"^ painting.    His    hand    it    was   that    ^'rounded    Peter's    dome." 
Through  all  the  succeeding  years  that  dome  has  been  the  eloquent 
symbol  of  the  association  of  the  Qiurch  with  the  classical  re- 
vival, of  its  absorption  in  mundane  affairs.    But  Michelangelo's 
influence  upon  the  development  of  architecture  was  not  altogether 
desirable.    He  turned  the  attention  of  builders  from  the  expand- 
ing style  of  the  early  Renaissance,  before  its  goal  had  been 
reached,  to  a  close  study  of  the  Greek  orders.    The  poetic  use 
of  leaves  and  flowers  and  vines  in  adorning  pillar  and  panel, 
architrave  and  apophyge,  a  genuine  blossoming  of  the  Italian 
spirit,  was  abandoned,  and  in  its  stead  the  Doric,  Ionic,  and 
Corinthian  orders  supplied  the  material  for  decoration  in  addition 
to  suggesting  the  actual  construction.    The  genius  of  Michel- 
angelo enabled  him  to  take  the  three  orders  and  employ  them 
with  surprising  boldness.    In  the  hands  of  his  followers,  how- 
ever, they  became  a  stumbling-block.    To  him,  then,  may  be 
traced  the  insincerity  and  the  bizarreriQ.  that  were  to  characterize 
much  of  the  architecture  of  the^cceeding  age. 

We  have  seen  that  sculpture  was  enriched  by  the  daring  spirit 
of  Jacopo  della  Querela,  the  golden  melody  of  Ghiberti,  the  in- 
digenous virility  of  Donatello  that  summoned  into  existence  the 
very  self  of  soldier  and  of  saint,  and  the  tender  grace  of  Luca 
della  Robbia.  After  their  time  the  development  of  sculpture 
went  on  apace.  Execution  became  more  graceful  and  beautiful 
than  ever  before.    And  the  seed  sown  by  Donatello,  the  gradual 


THE  DEVELOPMENT  OF  LETTERS  AND  ART    381 

development  of  the  national  type  that  he  inaugurated,  brought     ^^qq?' 

forth  many  a  lovely  flower.    This  development  of  the  Italian      

genius  in  sculpture  was  changed  by  the  increased  influence  of  the    **••■•* 
antique  when  Lorenzo  de'  Medici  opened  to  the  public  his  collec- 
tion of  classic  art.    No  longer  did  the  sculptors  depend  so  greatly 
upon  the  direct  study  of  nature  as  did  Donatello.    Instead  they 
mingled  with  their  observation  of  nature  the  things  relating  to 
proportion  and  method  which  they  learned  from  the  ^recovered 
«^tues  of  Greece  and  Rome.    They  became  enraptured  with  die  I 
dass^lT'qualtties  of  order,  balance,  and  harmony.    Regularity  j 
and  restraint  replaced  individuality  and  innovation.  / 

The  great  and  disturbing  genius  of  Michelangelo  was  not  so  meb^ 
much  given  over  to  the  faithful  and  loving  observation  of  nature,  JJ^'* 
nor  to  the  admiring  reproduction  of  the  spirit  of  classic  art,  as  Seniptot 
to  the  expression  of  itself.  Of  course  Michelangelo  n^lected 
neither  nature  nor  antiquity ;  but  what  he  was  always  concerned 
with  was  the  expression  in  art  of  the  dreams  and  visions  of  his 
own  soul.  His  early  work  in  sculpture  shows  clearly  the  influ- 
ence of  the  statues  of  the  other  masters  that  he  preferred  rather 
than  the  passions  that  were  to  surge  so  tumultuously  within  his 
breast ;  or  else  it  is  the  reproduction  of  the  living  bodies  that  had 
aroused  his  interest,  rather  than  the  portrayal  of  some  potent 
experience  of  his  own.  Two  works,  the  David  and  the  Pieta, 
stand  out  preeminently  as  the  products  of  this  first  period  of  his 
career  as  a  sculptor.  The  statue  of  David  is  a  virile  figure  of  a 
youth  upon  the  threshold  of  manhood,  that,  unlike  the  wistful 
shepherd  boy  of  Donatello,  or  Verrocchio's  radiant  lad,  speaks 
unmistakably  of  power  and  purpose.  The  Pieta  was  completed 
a  few  years  before  the  David,  when  the  sculptor  was  about 
twenty-four  years  of  age.  Only  the  year  before  had  Savonarola 
met  his  fiery  death.  The  words  of  the  hapless  prophet  must  have 
sunk  deep  into  the  soul  of  the  youthful  sculptor,  and  together 
with  the  books  he  loved  to  read,  the  Bible  and  Dante,  they  opened 
the  eyes  of  his  understanding  to  the  terrible  realities  of  life  and 
death.  The  subject  of  the  statue,  Mary  and  the  body  of  her 
dead  son  at  the  foot  of  the  Cross,  is  a  traditional  one ;  but  never 
before  or  since  has  it  been  treated  with  such  profound  feeling. 
The  sorrows  and  the  shadows  of  life  had  already  quickened  the 
sense  of  tragedy  in  the  soul  of  the  young  sculptor.  He  had 
known  very  little  of  the  happiness  of  youth  in  his  life.  When 
boys  of  his  own  age  were  still  engrossed  with  their  games  he 
had  become  interested  in  the  serious  things  that  engaged  the  at- 
tention of  the  more  thoughtful  of  his  elders.  So  to  the  execution 
of  this  well-worn  theme  he  brought  not  only  an  adequate  train- 


3B^        THE  PROTESTANT  REVOLUTION 


%Mft«C 


49Q«KVitc 


ing  but  also  a  s]rnq>athetic  temperament  In  grief  that  sedcs  no  j 
utterance  because  none  can  be  found,  the  mother  of  sorrows, 
majestic  with  the  strength  of  calm  endurance,  bends  her  head 
over  her  Son  who  lies  in  death  upon  her  lap  where  once  he  slum- 
bered as  a  little  child.  Here  in  this  statue  one  finds  confessed 
something  of  the  secret  of  the  sculptor's  soul. 

After  the  completion  of  the  David  sixteen  years  went  by  be- 
fore Michelangelo  found  it  possible  to  work  once  more  without 
interruption  at  sculpture.  They  were  years  of  frustrated  hopes, 
of  disillusion,  of  embittered  thought,  perhaps  of  despair.  Italy 
was  distracted  by  war.  Florence  was  torn  by  factions.  Injus- 
tice had  been  heaped  upon  him.  And  at  the  command  of  the 
terrible  Julius  II  sculpture  was  laid  aside  in  order  that  the  ceil- 
ing of  the  Sistine  chapel  might  be  covered  with  its  immortal 
figures.  It  is  to  Florence  that  we  must  go,  to  the  tombs  of  the 
Medici  in  the  church  of  San  Lorenzo,  to  see  the  statues  that  are 
typical  of  the  second  period  of  his  career  as  a  sculptor,  that  are 
the  culmination  of  his  genius  in  this  art.  The  sculptor  de- 
signed a  sacristy  in  which  he  intended  to  place  four  tombs.  But 
the  tombs  of  Giuliano,  son  of  Lorenzo  the  Magnificent,  and  that 
of  Lorenzo,  grandson  of  the  Magnifico,  were  the  only  ones  to 
be  completed.  Each  tomb  has  three  figures.  The  first,  in  addi- 
tion to  the  statue  of  Giuliano,  has  figures  of  Night  and  Day ;  and 
the  second,  in  addition  to  that  of  Lorenzo,  has  figures  of  Dawn 
and  Twilight.  There  is  no  attempt  at  portraiture  in  the  figures 
of  the  Medicean  princes.  The  figure  of  Giuliano  is  difficult  of 
explanation.  It  would  seem  to  be  that  of  a  ruler  who  holds  the 
scepter  but  feebly,  who  is  content  to  let  the  world  and  its  wrongs 
go  as  it  will  without  effort  to  set  it  right,  who  is  interested,  as 
his  gaze  denotes,  in  the  objective  things  of  life.  In  striking 
contrast  is  the  figure  of  Lorenzo,  who  leans  forward  upon  his 
hand  plunged  in  profound  and  melancholy  meditation.  Per- 
haps one  figure  was  to  typify  hope  and  the  other  despair,  the 
light  and  the  shadow  of  life,  or  day  and  night  Underneath 
the  Giuliano  are  the  figures  of  Night  and  Day;  and  under  thai 
of  Lorenzo  are  those  of  Dawn  and  Twilight.  These  are  also 
difficult  to  explain.  All  of  them  are  contorted  and,  in  the  ab- 
sence of  all  physical  cause  of  grief,  give  the  impression  of 
spiritual  struggle,  of  travail  of  the  soul.  Although  it  is  not 
known  what  Michelangelo  meant  to  embody  in  these  statues 
certain  it  is  that  some  large  allegory  of  the  drama  of  life  was 
intended.  The  names  mean  nothing  to  us;  but  the  emotions' 
aroused  by  the  statues  are  unmistakable;  the  sense  of  the  pain 
and  the   unfathomable  mystery  of  life  surges  up   within   us.l 


THE  DEVELOPMENT  OF  LETTERS  AND  ART  383 


sty  of  S; 


OBAP. 


We  have  seen  that  painting,  the  most  important  of  the  arts 
[>f  the  Renaissance,  no  longer  the  mere  handmaid  of  the 
Churchy  acquired  a  language  capable  of  expressing  a  wide  range 
:>f  the  emotions  of  himianity.  That  language  was  to  be  made 
still  more  inclusive,  its  nuances  to  be  made  more  subtle,  its 
vocabulary  more  varied  and  more  splendid.  First  of  those  in 
the  noon  of  the  Renaissance  to  extend  still  further  the  gamut 
af  painting  was  Leonardo  da  Vinci  (1452-1519),  one  of  the 
most  versatile  and  brilliant  men  of  the  entire  period.  He  was  I 
beyond  his  age  intellectually,  as  Michelangelo  was  beyond  itl 
morally.  His  restless  and  curious  mind  was  ever  inquiring,  hi^LMoarda 
bve  of  beauty  in  the  abstract  was  ever  unsatisfied.  These  two|  ^^''^^^^ 
things,  intellectual  curiosity  and  a  detached  desire  of  beauty, 
though  conflicting  with  each  other  at  times,  combined  to  produce 
the  pictures  that  are  the  expression  of  his  subtle  personality. 
He  was  always  seeking  to  solve  the  mystery  of  life ;  he  yearned 
for  a  sublimated  beauty  that  should  be  identical  with  truth. 
His  pictures,  therefore,  are  not  realistic.  Jf_  w^g  the  soul  of 
things  that  he,^Qught  to  portray.  In  his  paintings  the  objects 
are  veiled  in  a  thin  mist.  He  was  the  first  of  the  great  masters 
of  chiaroscuro,  the  first  to  understand  how  to  combine  the  ef- 
fects of  light  and  shade,  by  the  means  of  which  he  sought  to 
render  the  subtlest  and  most  delicate  gradations  of  form.  His 
pictures  differ  from  those  of  his  predecessors  in  that  the  light 
instead  of  being  evenly  distributed  in  them  is  broken  up  and 
confined  very  largely  to  one  part  while  the  other  part  is  touched 
with  shadow  or  steeped  in  impenetrable  darkness.  Leonardo 
realized  the  esthetic  value  of  chiaroscuro.  He  knew  that  even 
the  faintest  objects  could  by  its  means  be  made  still  more  beau- 
tiful and  romantic.  It  enabled  him  to  reveal  to  others  his  pene- 
trating impressionism  that  could  catch  the  evanescent  and 
volatile  sentiment  of  visible  things.  It  permitted  him  to  show 
that  the  literal  physiognomy  of  objects  is  often  less  significant, 
or  at  least  less  suggestive,  than  their  expression  and  atmos- 
phere. With  its  aid  he  introduced  into  his  pictures  the  element 
of  mystery  that  made  so  irresistible  an  appeal  to  his  mind  and 
that  constantly  challenged  his  imagination.  The  mysterious 
effect  of  his  Virgin  of  the  Rocks  is  very  largely  due  to  the 
striking  contrast  between  the  light  that  illuminates  the  faces,  the 
himinous  shadows  of  the  distant  landscape,  and  the  deep  ob- 
scurity of  the  curious  cavern.  Thus  did  he  seek  to  suggest  the 
fugitive  and  elusive  and  unprehensible  things  whose  existence 


THE  PROTESTANT  REVOLUTION 


:ie  ^aayected  beneath  the  surface  of  the  physical  world.  Ifii 
Momm  Lim^  ^  set  as  in  some  faint  light  under  sea,**  is  one  of 
:fae  oHKt  dttcak  pictures  in  the  worid  to  understand.  Whit 
Jims  tbe  expression  of  La  Joconda  indicate?  It  is  a  subde 
juifie;  perhaps  intriguing;  often  pronounced  inscrutable;  oer- 
aiiiN  aot  for  an  obvious  purpose ;  and  just  as  certainly  not  the 
expgessiop  of  a  passing  mood  but  of  the  very  essence  of  the 
juoL  Behind  that  quiet,  intellectual  face  lies  an  animated  spirit 
ami  a  most  alert  brain.  About  the  famous  Last  Supper,  ts 
Walfeer  I^ter  tells  us,  a  whole  literature  has  gathered  of  whidi 
**  Goethe's  pensive  sketch  of  its  sad  fortunes  is  by  far  the  best" 
In  aB  of  Leonardo's  pictures  there  is  a  subtle^  indHiwit^  yym 
of  ^MPetfaing  held  back  half-hidden  behind  an  ethereal  film  of 
tf^rfor.  and  also  the  sense  of  an  unsuccessful  pursuit.  The 
7  It  would  seem,  decimea  to  tea  us  ail  iie  icnew;  and 
failed  to  learn  all  that  he  himself  would  know.  He  was  not  a 
mere  catalc^er  of  picturesque  items,  but  an  alchemist  vriao, 
tbough  denied  the  supreme  power  that  he  craved,  could  yet 
raise  the  spectrum  of  a  dead  rose,  of  a  vanished  hour,  or  sum- 
mon a  soul  to  an  intimate  interview. 

The  peace,  the  grace,  the  tender  sentiment,  and  the  religious 
aspiration  of  Umbria,  expressed  so  well  by  Perugino,  wen 
united  by  Raphael  (1483-1520)  with  the  scientific  attainments 
of  Florence.  These  two  elements,  both  of  them,  especially  the 
litter,  expanded  with  wonderful  skill,  inform  an  art  that  in  its 
way  has  never  been  surpassed,  an  art  far  more  popular  than 
that  of  Leonardo,  an  art  essentially  simple  and  exterior,  full  of 
a  slumberous  peace,  radiant  with  golden  color,  undisturbed  by 
the  enigma  of  life,  content  with  the  loveliness  of  the  surround- 
ing world,  charmed  with  the  beauty  of  the  present  day.  Nevcr, 
were  the  Christian  ^nd  the  pagan  feelings  elsewhere  so  evenly 
rawWned  In  i>ainting.  And  in  a  technical  respect,  also,  did 
"'Raphael  f^vcal  himself  as  a  master.  He  was  the  first  great 
master  of  composition.  What  is  pictorial  composition?  First 
the  artist  must  select  from  nature  the  details  that  he  deems  sig- 
nificant. Nature  itself  is  not  art;  it  is  only  the  world  from 
which  the  artist  selects  his  items.  "  ^rt  i&Jiidden  in  naturg," 
said  Durer,  '*  jt^  is  for  the  artist  to  drag  her  fortR.^'^Then  the 
selected  items  are  to  be  artisticall^'^rTahged.  Two  principles, 
then,  selection  and  arrangement,  enter  into  composition.  Items 
may  be  arranged  according  to  nature  as  in  a  landscape,  al- 
though even  in  this  case  the  principle  of  selection  has  eliminated 
some  things  and  perhaps  interpolated  others;  or  they  may  be 
arranged  according  to  certain  artificial  conventions.    It  is  in 


THE  DEVELOPMENT  OF  LETTERS  AND  ART    385 

cotnpositioii  according  to  conventions  that  Raphael  excelled,  ^^of' 
The  basis  of  stx:h  composition  is  geometric  —  the  several  forms  -^ 
of  die  quadrilateral,  for  instance,  or  more  often  the  triangle  or  **••*• 
pyramid.  For  some  reason  or  other  we  like  form  and  odor 
for  their  own  sake.  The  psychic  elements  of  a  picture  appeal 
to  us  first,  but  any  picture  that  is  lacking  in  either  form  or 
oc^or  sooner  or  later  appears  defective.  Our  sense  of  form  and 
color  is  primaL  One  of  the  mosT  satisfying  of  all  forms,  per- 
haps because  of  its  stability,  is  that  of  the  pyramid.  See  how 
Raphael  has  employed  it  in  the  most  famous  of  his  easel  pic- 
tures, the  Sistine  Madonna.  The  triangular  grouping  of  the 
composition  is  boldly  confessed.  Not  the  slightest  appearance 
of  fortuitousness  is  to  be  found.  In  his  great  mural  paintings 
in  the  Vatican  the  composition  is  less  bare-faced.  It  is  mas- 
teriy.  So  finely  composed  is  the  Miracle  of  Bolsena  that  one 
scarcdy  realizes  how  awkward,  with  the  intruding  door,  was 
die  space  it  had  to  fill ;  and  the  superb  composition  of  the  School 
of  Athens,  perhaps  Raphael's  greatest  single  achievement,  has 
never  been  surpassed.  But  let  us  turn  to  the  psychic  factors  of 
his  art  Raphael  was  a  youth  under  thirty  when  he  arrived  in 
Rome,  and  there  in  the  ten  brief  years  that  elapsed  before  his 
early  death  he  gave  to  the  world  an  astonishing  number  of  paint- 
ings which  though  occasionally  feeble  are  often  full  of  beauty 
and  sometimes  touched  with  majesty.  What  enabled  him  to  do 
so  much  and  to  do  it  so  well?  In  the  power  to  assimilate  the 
ideas  and  the  spirit  of  other  artists,  in  the  pliant  character  of 
his  genius,  he  was  unsurpassed.  From  all  sides  he  received  im- 
pressions and  these  he  put  together  with  extraordinary  facility. 
Like  the  bee  he  gathered  honey  from  many  Rowers.  The  vari- 
ous elements  that  he  appropriated  he  fused  in  the  alembic  of  his 
own  personality.  So  sensitive  was  he  that  he  responded  to 
die  vibrations  of  many  notes.  Every  great  motive  that  hitherto 
had  inspired  painting  in  Italy  found  a  place  in  the  harmony  of 
his  work.  He  did  not  reproduce  every  note  that  he  heard. 
Instinctively  he  rejected  all  that  was  hard  and  harsh.  When 
he  sounded  the  same  notes  that  had  given  him  pleasure  they 
were  more  golden  than  before,  as  the  mocking-bird  sings  more 
gferiously  the  notes  it  has  learned  from  other  songsters.  His 
own  note  was  one  of  a  golden  beauty;  and  when  he  gave  his 
music  to  the  world  there  was  much  in  it  that  was  his  own.  The 
luminous  serenity  that  informs  all  his  work  had  its  origin  only 


No  great  artist  can  entirely  escape  the  force  of  his  age  or 
that  of  his  nation,  yet  the  vital  energy  of  Michelangek)  (i47S- 


386 


THE  PROTESTANT  REVOLUTION 


uoo-^ 


ABftlOM 

PalBfetr 


AadrM 
d«18arto 


1564)  was  SO  great  as  to  enable  him  to  transcend  his  age  and  to 
make  him  in  a  large  measure  timeless  and  universaL  His  geoins 
was  that  of  a  sculptor.  But  the  powerful  Julius  II»  the  greatest 
of  all  the  pontifical  patrons  of  art,  in  whom  he  must  have  rtcogr 
nized  some  of  the  colossal  qualities  that  characterized  himadfi 
commanded  him  to  work  as  an  architect  and  as  a  painter.  He 
was  reluctant  to  accept  the  commission  to  cover  the  ceiling  of 
the  Sistine  Oiapel  with  fresco.  The  pope,  however,  insisted; 
and  so  the  work  b^an.  This  task  that  he  had  entered  upon  ao 
unwillingly  is  the  only  one  of  his  great  designs  destined  to  be 
completed.  The  painting,  which  contains  about  four  hundred 
figures,  is  an  allegory  of  the  life  of  man,  of  the  struggle  in  it 
between  good  and  evil.  All  the  facts  of  the  allegory,  moral 
as  well  as  physical,  are  expressed  through  the  medium  of  the 
human  form  which  had  become  to  Michelangelo  the  most  eto- 
quent  expression  of  every  aspect  of  life.  For  the  first  time  the 
nude  was  made  spiritual.  Art,  as  we  have  seen,  was  enslaved 
when  it  was  nothing  more  than  the  handmaid  of  the  Church. 
But  art  has  for  its  function  the  expression  of  life;  and  religion, 
which  must  not  be  confounded  widi  theology  or  ecdesiastidsm, 
is  the  highest  part  of  human  life.  Art,  therefore,  can  never 
.  afford  to  dissociate  itself  completely  f rcxn  religion,  nor  even  to 
!  n^lect  it.  Michelangelo  was  greatest  when  he  gave  expression 
I  to  the  spiritual  side  of  human  life.  On  the  ceiling  of  the  Sis- 
'  tine  Chapel  the  majesty  of  God  and  the  dignity  and  pathos  of 
the  life  of  man  are  here  portrayed  with  that  deep  religious  feel- 
ing that  dwelt  in  the  heart  of  Michelangelo. 

No  other  artist  of  the  time  was  as  modem  in  spirit  as  Andrea 
del  Sarto  (1486-1531),  who  was  called  "the  faultless  painter." 
and  who  has  had  few  equals  in  grace  and  skill.  Like  Leonardo 
he  learned  to  merge  the  lights  into  the  shadows ;  but  his  grada- 
tions are  even  more  subtle,  so  delicate,  indeed,  as  to  make  the 
point  of  fusion  imperceptible.  There  is  one  picture  that,  per- 
haps, above  all  others  serves  to  reveal  the  characteristics  of 
Andrea  as  a  painter,  if  not  as  a  man.  It  is  the  portrait  in  the 
National  Gallery  in  London,  one  of  the  most  exquisite  pictures 
in  that  great  collection,  long  thought  to  be  a  presentation  of 
himself.  Touched  with  authentic  magic,  it  is  full  of  quietude 
and  distinction;  with  its  tranquil  and  silvery  tone,  the  subtle 
exhalations  of  its  shadows,  exhalations  like  those  of  some 
fragrant  flower,  the  melting  softness  of  its  lights,  the  final  word, 
it  would  seem,  in  delicate  grace.  We  do  not  know  who  this 
handsome  and  melancholy  man  may  have  been.  Perhaps,  to 
judge  from  the  block  that  he  holds,  he  was  a  sculptor.    But  it 


THE  DEVELOPMENT  OF  LETTERS  AND  ART    3^ 

s  a  face  that  recalls  the  story  of  Andrea  himself,  the  man  with     ^^^y* 
oimcramfipt  and  with  skill  who  lacked  a  great  aotri.  

Tne  sense  ot  tragedy  is  omnipresent  m  trie  work  of  Michd-  **••"*••* 
ngelo.  In  that  of  Corr^gio  (1495-1534)  ^^  ^^  wholly  absent.  OoRtnio 
lis  entire  freedom  from  the  idea  of  evil,  his  faun-like  oblivion 
f  moral  consciousness,  makes  him,  in  some  respects,  the  most 
emarkable  exponent  of  the  pag^n  element  of  the  Renaissance, 
le  was  a  realist,  but  he  shut  his  eyes  to  age  and  to  sorrow  and 
ainted  only  youth  and  g|;^Hn^gg^  The  happiness  and  the  inno- 
ehce  of  childhood  was  his  favorite  theme.  Despite  their 
ccasional  sentimentality,  his  pictures  of  childhood  and  of  youth, 
f  figures  that  are  not  so  much  spirits  as  sprites,  are  full  of  a 
wonderful  beauty.  There  we  find  golden  and  melting  color, 
hythmic  line  and  softest  shadow,  innocent  gaiety,  tender  senti- 
lent,  the  charm  and  beauty  of  earthly  life. 

Having  followed  the  development  of  painting  upon  the  main- 
md  of  Italy  to  its  culmination  we  must  now  retrace  our  steps  atomai 
little  way  and  with  GJ^Yfini]^'  ffpllini  (142&-1516)  begin  the  story  2jJf*SL 
f  the  most  complete  expression  in  art  of  the  spirit  of  the  'B^gimi^g 
talian   Renaissance, —  the   Venetian   school   of   painting.    The  tiaa  Paint' 
reat  commercial  activity  of  Venice  was  carried  on  in  an  unsur- 1^ 
assed  glamour  of  color.    In  the  dawn  the  pearly  domes  of  the  \ 
ity  were  reflected  in  the  silvery  stretches  of  the  lagoons  or  the 
reen  waters  of  the  canals.    At  noon  the  bellying  sails  of 
le  fishing  boats  were  orange,  or  red,  or  blue.    Beneath  the  sunset 
le  changing  waters  shimmered  in  their  opalescent  hues,  the 
olden  domes  of  Santa  Maria  della  Salute  sent  back  the  crimson 
lys  of  the  setting  sun,  the  many  towers  glittered  as  though  they 
rere  adorned  with  rubies  and  emeralds.    And  then,  when  the 
igfat  had  come,  the  stars  of  heaven  were  mirrored  in  a  silver 
lain.    Little  wonder  that  in  these  enchanted  isles  men  forgot 
leir  souls.    In  the  early  work  of  Bellini  traces  of  the  Byzan-I 
ne  origin  of  Venetian  art  may  be  seen.    But  into  his  figures 
e  gradually  breathed  the  breath  of  life;  and,  though  he  never 
icceeded  in  banishing  altogether  from  his  madonnas  that  open- 
^ed  sleep,  that  solemn  slumber,  of  the  Byzantine  speD,  he  made 
icm  sweet  and  tender.    He  felt  a  genuine  delight  in  nature  and 
yy  in  life.    In  his  backgrounds  there  is  a  fresh  observation  of 
ature  for  its  own  sake.    With  him  art,  at  least  the  art  of 
^emce,  began  to  dwell  out  of  doors.    Landscape,  hitherto  a  I 
lere  accessory,  became  an  essentiaL    The  development  of  Bel-  I 
m's  art  and  tbe  entire  art  of  painting,  received  a  great  aid  from 
le  relating  of  the  stiffness  and  dryness  of  the  old  method  of 
liotiiig  in  taapexsL  by  the  Flemish  method  of  paintiiig  in  oiL 


388  THE  PROTESTANT  REVOLUTION 


The  new  medium,  richer  and  more  pellucid,  changed  the  entiie 
complexion  of  pictorial  art.    Somewhere  about  the  opening  of 

^*^^^^  the  last  quarter  of  the  fifteenth  century  this  new  method  of 
painting  found  its  way  into  Venice  where  Beliini  was  one 
of  the  first  to  adopt  it  His  masterly  portrait  of  the  Doge  Lore- 
dano,  one  of  the  greatest  portraits  in  the  world,  shows  how  fine 
a  worker  in  the  new  medium  he  became.  It  is  full  of  the  dear 
and  golden  tone  that  we  see  in  so  many  of  his  pictures.  The 
dominant  notes  of  his  religious  paintings  are  those  of  stately 
calm  and  spiritual  repose.  He  was  a  genuine  lover  of  nature 
and  of  humanity,  ^  fHJI^"^  ^ff^^^'^j^n,  a  mast^  ^f  rglm*.  who 
worked  along  essentially  traditional  lines. 

Venetian  painting,  we  have  said,  was  the  fullest  expressk» 
of  the  love  of  beauty  and  the  joy  of  living  that  constituted  tfie 
spirit  of  the  age.    And  in  the  painting  of  Giorgione  (1477?- 

•^"'■^•^  1511)  this  expression  of  delight  in  the  beauty' ottne  world  rc- 
cdv^  its  most  refined  form.  This  mysterious  artist,  whose  real 
name  is  unknown  to  us  and  who  seems  to  some  critics  to  be 
scarcdy  more  than  a  myth,  was  profoundly  |nf>H#>m  \n  gprlt^ 
He  was  at  once  one  of  the  most  poetical  and  revolutionary  of 
painters.  Walter  Pater  has  accuratdy  and  beautifully  expressed 
his  contribution  to  the  devdopment  of  painting.  ''All  art,**  be 
says,  "  constantly  aspires  towards  the  conditions  of  music."  In 
every  other  art  "  it  is  possible  to  distinguish  the  matter  from  the 
form.''  But  ''  it  is  the  constant  effort  of  art  to  obliterate  "  that 
distinction.  In  poetry,  for  instance,  it  is  usually  "  easy  enough 
for  the  understanding  to  distinguish  between  the  matter  and  the 
form.  .  •  .  But  the  ideal  types  of  poetry  are  those  in  which  this 
distinction  is  reduced  to  its  minimum."  Music  is  the  art  in 
which  is  found  the  most  "perfect  identification  of  form  and 
matter."  More  than  any  other  painter  that  had  yet  been  bom 
did  Giorgione  succeed  in  producing  this  interpenetration  of  form 
and  matter.  With  him  ^s)T  »^**  ^^'rt  timernlnr  hftr^mp  truly ■ 
^J^qiif"^  Every  touch  of  his  brush  expressed  in  a  subtle  and 
spontaneous  way  the  mood  that  possessed  him.  In  his  altar- 
piece  at  Castdfranco,  one  of  the  loveliest  pictures  in  the  world, 
something  beyond  our  analysis,  the  total  expression  of  form  and 
matter,  as  in  a  strain  of  music,  makes  the  picture,  despite  the 
separation  of  the  figures,  expressive  of  a  single  thought,  do- 
quent  of  a  single  mood. 

Giorgione  died  at  thirty-four  before  all  he  had  to  say  to  the 
world  had  been  uttered.  But  contemporary  with  him  lived 
TjlMauC  1477  ?-i  576),  who  survived  him  sixty-five  years,  and 
who,  though  he  did  not  perpetuate  the  poetry  of  Giorgione^ 


IMO^Vf 


THE  DEVELOPMENT  OF  LETTERS  AND  ART    389 

imed  fally  the  lesson  of  the  possibUities  of  color.    The  person-     ^^^of * 
ty  of  Titian  was  too  powerful  to  be  dominated  by  another, 
le  genius  of  Giorgione  was  essentially  lyrical,  says  Mordli, 
lile  that  of  Titian  was  essentially  dramatic.    And  if  the  genius 

Titian  was  less  refined  than  that  of  Giorgione  it  was  more 
bust.  The  Venetians  were  Ijess  intellectual  and  rnnr^.  ^^nsufy^^ 
an  the  Florentines.  They  were,  thereiore,  concerned  more 
ith  gpfyr  \\ii^[\  Yi\\U  fnMii  Form  addresses  itself  to  the  in- 
ject; color  appeals  to  the  emotions.  As  masters  of  color  the 
enetians  have  never  been  surpassed.  Not  only  did  they  freely 
e  the  most  opulent  of  colors  and  the  most  delicate  of  tints. 
It  they  suffused  everything  in  a  flood  of  golden  light  such  as 

seldom  seen  upon  land  or  sea.  They  did  not  aim  merely  to 
py  the  color  of  nature  but  to  express  their  own  sensuous  na- 
res.  In  the  use  of  color  Titian  was  one  of  the  greatest  of  the 
enetians.    And  the  range  of  his  subjects  was  unusually  wide. 

included  portraiture,  landscape,  and  secular  and  ecclesiastical 
ernes.  But  above  all  he  was  a  painter  of  portraits.  His  great 
nvases  lack  the  essential  decorative  feeling.  When  he  had  a 
nited  space  and  a  living  subject,  however,  he  was  unsurpassed. 

was  always  not  the  mere  person  of  his  sitter  that  he  painted 
It  the  personality.  He  was  a  bold  innovator.  His  madonnas, 
ately  and  masterful  women,  are  entirely  unconventional;  and 

the  composition  of  the  groups  in  which  they  figure  he  cast 
adition  to  the  winds.    His  Assvunption  is  in  many  respects  thel 
'eatest  picture  in  the  world.  ' 

We  are  now  to  leave  the  warm  south  and  to  make  our  way 
rer  the  Alps  to  the  Low  Countries.  There  we  shall  find  quite 
lother  school  of  painting  for  the  loving  appreciation  of  which  nt 
le  study  of  the  Italian  masters  has  not  been  the  most  suitable 
-eparation.  No  emotional  student  of  Italian  art  whose  eyes 
ive  been  filled  with  its  color  and  its  glory  is  in  quite  the  proper 
ate  to  appreciate  the  minute  skill  and  the  realistic  spirit  of 
lemish  art.  The  Flemish  are  a  people  rather  warm  of  impulse 
id  free  in  habits  who  combine  some  German  sentiment  with 
rench  liveliness  and  gaiety.  For  long  they  had  struggled 
;ainst  adverse  circumstances;  and  the  security  of  their  coun- 
y  was  not  acccmiplished  until  after  1385  when  the  dukes  of 
urgundy  began  to  extend  their  power  over  the  Low  Countries, 
hen  they  became  strong  enough  to  defy  either  Germany  or 
ranee;  and  wealthy  enough,  through  their  wide-extended  com- 
erce,  to  encourage  art.  In  Flaqjer.^  painting  c^a^^c  aKntpHy 
ith  the  fifteenth  century.  It  grew  out  of  the  work  of  the 
iniaturists,  into  w^ose  art  there  had  poured  a  stream  of  French 


390  THE  PROTESTANT  REVOLUTION 

o^P«     influence,  who  decorated  the  medieval  books  with  many  a  rcil- 

istic  picture  of  Flemish  scenery  and  Flemish  life.     When  diCK 

&400-1660  illuminations  expanded  into  panel  pictures,  oil-paintiiig  came 
into  vogue,  and  the  pictorial  art  of  Flanders  surpassed  that  of 
the  war-ridden  country  to  the  west.  The  size  of  the  miniature 
was  increased ;  but  the  minute  method  of  painting  remained  6t 
same.  It  was  an  indigenous  art  There  were  no  classical  ii- 
fluences,  no  excavated  statues  to  copy,  and  no  Byzantine  tradh 
tions  left  to  follow.  And  for  some  time  it  remained  uninfluenced 
by  the  art  of  Italy.  The  sudden  development  of  Flemish  art 
that  took  place  at  the  opening  of  the  fifteenth  century  was  doc 
in  large  part  to  the  genius  of  Hubert  van  Evck  (i366?-i426), 
the  elder  of  two  brothers,  who,"although  they  did  not  invent  the 
process  of  painting  in  oU,  made  technical  improvements  *  in  the 
use  of  that  medium.  The  technical  improvement  that  Hubert 
helped  to  effect  was,  however,  only  one  element  in  his  contribu- 
tion to  Flemish  art.  Far  more  important  was  the  poeti«g  iq^^^ 
he  breathed  into  painting.  Jan  vaa,£Ydc  (i386?-i44o),  also  a 
skilful  craftsman,  was  a  f^aHg<-  wfir\  cnngrTit-  to  reproduce  faith- 
fully the  things  of  the  outward  world.  The  influence  of  the 
two  brothers,  who  worked  chiefly  at  Bruges,  extended  through- 
out  the   Low   Countries.     Rog^r  van   der  Wpyrlen    (l400?-64) 

founded  a  school  of  his  own  at  brusselsj  and  when  Jan  van 
Eyck  died  he  became  the  most  important  and  the  most  popular 
painter  in  the  Netherlands.  He  was  a  good  technician,  who 
sometimes  lost  control  of  his  emotion,  but  who  had  genuine 
dramatic  power.  The  art  of  Hd(Qs3XfiDiling  (i430?-94),  who 
also  painted  at  Bruges,  is  noted  for  its  sincerity,  and  tendem^s. 
for  the  pure  delight  with  which  it  pictures  the  extemSs  of  the 
contemporary  world,  and  for  its  touches  of  poetry.  The  Flem- 
ish artists  painted  under  conditions  altogether  different  from 
those  that  helped  to  determine  the  character  of  Italian  art. 
They  were  not  required  to  cover  great  wall  spaces  with  the  fluent 
work  of  fresco.  Their  patrons,  the  rich  merchants  of  Bruges 
and  Ghent  and  Brussels,  were  not  without  some  traces  of  cul- 
ture, but  they  were  more  materialistic  and  less  imaginative  than 
the  patrons  of  art  in  Italy.  Their  vision,  like  that  of  their 
painters,  was  limited  by  the  walls  of  their  towns  or  the  horizons 
of  their  flat  and  fertile  fields.  The  "  small  experiences 
day,  concerns  of  the  particular  hearth  an(Lhome."  wer^  the 
^pgs  in  wh\cV\  jhey  were  chiefly  interestea.  Consequently  it 
was  the  details  ol^flily  life  that  they  demanded  in  their  pic- 
tures. This  taste  their  painters  loved  to  gratify. 
Though  the  people  did  not  differ  very  greatly  from  each 


THE  DEVELOPMENT  OF  LETTERS  AND  ART 


odicr»  HoOand  produced  a  somewhat  different  quality  of  art     ^^^ 

from  that  of  Flanders.    The  Dutch  were  perhaps  less  versatile     

and  less  vrfatile  than  the  Flemish ;  less  like  the  French  and  more  **^^^* 
like  the  Germans.    They  were  fond  of  homely  joys  and  the 
quiet  peace  of  town  and  domestic  life.    They  were  matter-of- 
fact  in  all  things,  sufficient  unto  themselves,  coarse  at  times, 
but  sturdy  and  honest.    Realism  was  the  element  in  art  that  Buiy 
most  appealed  to  them.    The  HgtaiU  nf  |tir^  ^^"  ^*^^  in  fi^^^*'^,  p2b^ 
town-hall,  tavern,  and  kitchen  were  the  things  they  loved  to  see 
in  their  pictures.    In  the  fourteenth  century  the  illuminations 
of  their  missals  boasted  a  virile  and  indigenous  style ;  but  it  was 
only  when  Jan  van  Eyck  came  to  The  Hague  to  paint  for  the 
Count  of  Holland  that  a  notable  school  of  panel  painting  b^an 
its  development.    But  for  the  most  part  the  work  of  the  early 
Dutch  painters  has  perished  through  time  and  iconoclastic  fury. 
In   the  seventeenth   century   Dutch   art   became  original   and 

inued  to  picture  native  hie  wiih  skill  and  sym- 


It  continued  to  picture  native  hie  wkh  skill  and  S3rm- 
pathy,  with  keenness  of  insight  and  fine  pictorial  view.  But  it 
was  always  limited.  It  never  soared  like  Italian  art.  It  never 
became  universal  or  world-embracing.  It  was  essentially  indi- 
vidual and  national.  Its  revelation  stopped  short  with  Holland 
and  the  personalities  of  the  Holland  painters.  Heaven  is  un- 
important in  Dutch  art  What  is  important  is  Holland  and  the 
Dutch. 

Next  to  Italy  it  was  France  that  was  the  chief  contributor  to 
the  Renaissance.  But  the  change  from  Gothic  to  pseudo-classic 
ideals  that  began  to  overtake  architecture  in  the  fifteenth  cen- 
tury in  that  country  cannot  correctly  be  called  a  revival  because  i>«f«]iis 
there  had  never  been  a  time  in  French  history  when  architecture  JJSdui 
had  been  classic  in  its  spirit.  All  through  the  Middle  Ages,  as  ^ta 
we  have  seen,  the  classical  traditions  persisted  in  the  architecture 
of  the  southern  peninsula.  When  the  Renaissance  came  it  was 
not  difficult  for  Italy  to  throw  off  the  Gothic  details  that  had 
been  superimposed  upon  her  architecture.  But  in  France  Gothic 
architecture,  bom  of  the  national  spirit,  had  found  its  most 
logical  and  artistic  development;  and  therefore  its  modification 
and  replacement  were  not  accomplished  without  a  struggle. 
Some  things  there  were  that  helped  to  make  the  change  less 
difficult  The  ecclesiastical  and  feudal  encouragements  of 
Gothic  architecture  were  failing.  The  architectural  needs  of  the 
time  were  becoming  secular  and  civic  Men  were  no  longer 
building  castles  and  cathedrals  but  chateaus  and  hotels.  Eccle- 
siastical and  secular  embassies,  travelers  of  all  sorts  but  espe- 
cially the  sddiers  of  the  several  French  invasions  of  Italy, 


392 


THE  PROTESTANT  REVOLUTION 


1400-lMO 


Bairlj 

French 

Faiiit«ni 

ftiidSeiilp- 

lon 


Albreeht 
Dttrwr  and 
Hans 
Holbein 


brought  to  their  native  land  the  new  architectural  ideas.  Frendi 
artists  went  to  learn  in  Italy,  and  Italian  artists  came  to  teidi 
in  France.  It  was  not  classic  architecture  that  found  its  way 
into  France  but  rather  the  varying  Italian  interpretations  of 
that  architecture.  The  fusion  of  the  flamboyant  Gothic  with  the 
florid  Italian  styles  resulted  at  first  in  a  transitional  style  that 
was  the  autumnal  splendor  of  the  medieval  manner;  but  about 
the  middle  of  the  sixteenth  century  a  decided  break  with  the 
Gothic  past  took  place.  The  story  of  the  second  stage  of  the 
rise  of  the  architectural  style  of  the  Renaissance  in  France  b  to 
be  told  in  the  last  chapter  that  we  are  to  devote  to  art 

French  painting,  like  that  of  Flanders,  took  its  rise  from  the 
miniatures  in  the  medieval  missals.  It  is  not  surprising,  there- 
fore, to  find  that  the  work  of  the  earliest  of  the  French  painten 
was  prtT^pnally  (\^QY(\ft^TA^  and  that  it  was  characterized  chiefly 
by  its  technical  excellence  and  not  by  its  sentiment  The  first 
name  of  importance  in  French  painting  is  that  of  Tean  Fou< 
(i4i5?-8o?),  an  illuminator  and  portrait  painter  of  some  orig- 
inal power  whose  work  is  detailed  and  exact  in  its  realism.  Jn 
sculpture  the  first  notable  worker  was  Michel  Colombe  (1440?- 
1 5 12)  whose  native  and  naturalistic  style  was  gradually  modi- 
fied by  the  Italian  influence.  But  it  was  not  until  the  period  of 
the  last  division  of  our  book  that  either  sculpture  or  painting  in 
France  became  animated  by  the  modem  spirit 

In  our  study  of  humanism  and  heresy  we  have  seen  something 
of  the  character  of  German  culture.  At  Nuremberg,  one  of  the 
most  important  centers  of  that  culture,  lived  Albrecht  P"<Tgf 
(1471-1528)  the  greatest  of  all  German  painters.  How  long  a 
time  it  took  the  Renaissance  to  make  its  way  into  Germany 
may  be  gathered  from  the  fact  that  this  first  great  worker  in 
German  pictorial  art,  who  was  always  largely  medieval  in  spirit, 
outlived  Raphael  eight  years.  When  at  last  painting  began  to 
flourish  in  Germany  it  was  vastly  different  from  the  same  art  in 
Italy.  There  was  always  something  of  the  wild  north  ip  it  tpm^ 
pered  by  the  tenderness  of^  homely  ties  and  interests.     It  was 

fnurh^^  yfUh  c^ai lint  liinnimid  mlth  ^^Jn^mtY     Something 

ofgloom,  too,  it  had,  and  a  good  deal  of  religious  Sentiment 
Although  Diirer  is  ranked  as  one  of  the  world's  greatest  painters 
he  was  not  essentially  a  painter  in  temperament.  His  brush  did 
not  reveal  eloquently  and  spontaneously  the  spirit  of  the  real 
painter.  He  had  but  a  dim  perception  of  the  sensuous  beauty  of 
the  world.  But  his  appetite  for  fact  was  keen  and  insatiable. 
He  was  a  better  engraver  than  a  painter ;  yet  even  with  that  art 
it  was  principally  its  utilitarian  value  that  appealed  to  him. 


THE  DEVELOPMENT  OF  LETTERS  AND  ART    393 

Beauty  of  line  and  beauty  of  color  in  themselves,  and  as  ex-     ^^^* 

pressions  of  emotion,  did  not  enrapture  him.    The  minute  and      

accurate  recording  of  facts  with  which  his  pictures  and  plates  ^••^^^ 
arc  filled  is  the  work  of  a  scientific  mind  ra^h^r  tfian  nf  ^^  gr-. 
tistic  temperament  Hans  Holbein  (1497?-!  543),  whose  father 
and  grandfather  were  also  painters  with  the  same  name,  was 
probably  bom  in  Augsburg.  When  about  eighteen  years  of 
age  he  went  to  Basel  to  find  employment  as  an  illustrator  of 
books.  There  he  drew  the  illustrations  that  had  so  much  to  do 
with  the  success  of  the  Th^  Praise  of  Folly:  and  there,  too,  he 
painted  upon  walls  anS^-paneb.  The  increasing  tumult  of  the 
ecclesiastical  revolution  was  detrimental  to  the  cause  of  art.  So, 
taking  with  him  letters  of  introduction  from  Erasmus  to  Sir 
Thomas  More,  the  young  painter  went  to  England.  His  subse- 
quent work  belongs  to  the  history  of  that  country. 

Thus  we  have  seen  that  all  during  the  century  that  extended 
from  1450  to  1555  the  Renaissance  went  upon  its  way  in  Italy, 
neither  checked  nor  complicated  by  the  ecclesiastical  revolutions 
that  raged  on  the  other  side  of  the  Alps.    The  Catholicism  of.l 
the  Italians  has  always  rested  much  more  upon  sentiment  than  1 
upon  dogma.    And  at  that  time  the  gulf  between  the  priesthood  K 
and  the  laity,  so  pronounced  in  other  countries,  was  bridged  overfTte 
in  Italy  by  the  friars  of  St.  Francis  of  Assisi,  that  most  belovedl^^JJJ 
of  all  the  saints  for  whom  the  Italians  cherished  the  most  in- j  of  tk« 
timate  affection.    To  the  extent  that  Catholicism  has  appealedi 
more  to  the  hearts  of  the  Italians  than  to  their  reason  it  has  left! 
their  minds  free  to  engage  in  whatever  enterprise  of  the  intellect! 
attracted  their  interest.    Far  from  being  hostile  to  the  Renais- 
sance the  Italian  popes  and  prelates  actually  aided  it  and  at  times 
even  assumed  its  direction.    Under  such  conditions  art  in  Italy  _ 

ri.^ijK»  »^  Hf luif  fv^^  phac^  qf  ]jff  in  j^s  range  nt  expression, 

and  scientific  and  philosophical  thought  became  ever  bolder  aiii 
more  daring.     In  thp  tr;^p<;a1pinp  rnnntrips,  where  religion  was 

more  involved  with  dogma  and  where  the  mass  of  the  people 
were  not  so  intimately  associated  with  the  Church  by  the  Fran- 
ciscan friars,  i^^  Rennjrnnnrr  "'^■«**^«^^^  rr'^h  t^^  ^rntf*itant 
Revolu^:^QHr  Many  of  the  h^imanictc  Kera^^  j"vr>lved  in  here^v: 
an^  ^pt\  painters  he^^  pnH  thrrtj  stirh  as  Alhrg^ht  p^rer^were 
reformers  and  revolutionists.  For  a  time,  then,  the  Church  lent 
her  patronage  to  the  development  of  art  that  refrained  from  no 
expression  of  passion  and  to  the  evolution  of  thought  that  ac- 
knowledged no  limit  to  its  scope.  And  for  a  time  she  was  in- 
different to  the  revolution  that  was  gathering  headway  in  the 
north,  indifferent  to  the  anguish  of  all  Teutonic  Christendom. 


394  THE  PROTESTANT  REVOLUTION 


But  all  this  was  destined  to  be  changed.  Oppositkm  to  niii- 
limited  thought  and  to  ecclesiastical  revolution  coupled  with  die 
iBt«40  desire  to  rid  herself  of  the  immorality  that  stained  her  name^ 
and  the  determination  to  give  more  definite  shape  to  those  of  her 
dogmas  that  were  the  occasions  of  disputes  arose  within  tfie 
Church.  The  Church  set  herself  to  crush  diose  things  to  which 
hitherto  she  had  been  onnparatively  indifferent  Within  her 
pale,  as  we  have  seen  in  our  study  of  the  revival  of  conscience, 
there  were  always  forces  making  for  reform.  Those  forces 
now  became  extraordinarily  aggressive.  The  Church  lost  die 
stamp  of  the  fluent  and  delicate  genius  of  Italy  and  became  im- 
pregnated with  the  ardent  spirit  of  Spain.  The  culture  of  the 
Renaissance  was  made  subservient  to  her  interests ;  and  Protest- 
antism was  assailed  with  startling  vigor.  This  revival  of  die 
reforming  forces  and  militant  character  of  the  Church  has  been 
called  the  Counter-Reformatkm  and  also  the  Catholic  ReacticHL 
Both  names  fail  to  describe  the  movement  accurately  and  to  indi- 
cate its  origin;  and  while  the  one  that  we  have  chosen  is  not  as 
illuminating  as  might  be  desired  it  seems  to  indicate  the  char- 
acter of  the  movement  with  greater  correctness  than  do  the  ones 
we  have  discarded. 


THE  CATHOLIC  REFORMATION 


THE  CATHOLIC  REFORMATION 


CHAPTER  XX 


THE  TURK,  THE  COMET,  AND  THE  D/EVIL 

u  The  Sources  of  Religious  Panic  in  Sixteenth-Century  Christendom. 

2.  The  Turk. 

J.  The  Comet 

4.  The  Devil 


w 


E  have  now  come  to  the  period  of  history  that  by  some 
writers  is  called  the  Counter-Reformation  and  by  others 


the  Catholic  Reaction,  but  which  we  have  preferred  to  designate  i4w-ieoo 
as  the  Catholic  Reformation.  The  truth  seems  to  be  that  it  re- 
quires all  three  of  these  titles  properly  to  characterize  the  move- 
ment The  movement  was  in  the  first  place  a  continuation  of 
the  efforts  to  reform  the  ancestral  Church  from  within  that  we 
have  noticed  in  our  study  of  the  revival  of  conscience  and  also 
in  the  chapter  that  deals  with  the  Protestant  ideas  in  Italy. 
These  efforts  were  stimulated  by  the  successes  of  the  Protestant 
Revolution ;  and  their  own  successes  were  due  in  a  considerable 
degree  to  a  reaction  in  favor  of  the  historical  religious  establish- 
ment yiiia  r^yvii^-^'on  of  fi*fling  wa.i  dlir  in  part  to  ai)anic  which 
became  mcreasmgly  manifest  in  the  transalpine  countries  as  the 
first  half  of  the  sixteenth  century  drew  to  a  close.  This  panic 
had  three  sQurces^  the  continued  advance  of  the  Turks^he 
[)earance  of  comets  in  the  sRi^g,  a"^  the  delusion  of  witcficraft 
H  is  with  these  three  causes  of  the  panic,  terrestrial,  celestial  an 

infernal,  that  this  chapter  attempts  to  deal.  

The  capture  of  Constantinople  by  no  means  satisfied  the  appe- 
tite of  the  Turks  for  conquest.  The  menace  of  the  Crescent  to 
the  Cross  grew  apace.  It  was  not  long  before  the  conquest  of 
the  Byzantine  empire  was  completed.  The  shattered  remains 
y{  that  empire,  Athens,  the  Morea,  the  islands  of  the  -SIgean 
Sea,  Sinope  and  Trebizond  on  the  Black  Sea,  all  fell  into  the 
tiands  of  the  invaders.  Then  Servia,  Bosnia,  and  Herzegovina, 
were  subdued;  so  that  when  Mohammed  XI  (i4gl-8i)  die 

307 


Tb«W«i|. 

▼snMof 
ItoTuk 


398  THE  CATHOLIC  REFORMATION 


^$y*     Turkish  realm  had  the  Danube  for  its  northern  border  from  the 

Black  Sea  to  Belgrade ;  and  from  Belgrade  it  extended  in  a  ^irert 

1468-1600  Tine  almosj^  to  tne  Adriatic.    Mohammed  left  two  sons  bdi^ 
him.    I'he^eiaer,  i5ayazid  II  (1481-1512),  was  satisfied  with  die 
territorial  conquests  of  his  father.    Djem,  the  younger,  laid 
claim  to  the  throne;  and  being  defeated  in  battle  sought  refi^ 
with  the  Knights  Hospitallers  at  Rhodes.    But  the  Imights  ht- 
trayed  the  trust  reposed  in  them  by  the  fugitive  prince.    They 
entered  into  a  contract  with  his  brother/  the  sultan,  to  keep  him 
under  surveillance  in  return  for  45,000  ducats  a  year.    In  1489 
Pope  Innocent  VIII  became  the  custodian  of  Djem.    Six  yean 
later,  having  been  taken  in  charge  by  Charles  VIII  when  the 
French  King  invaded  Italy,  the  unhappy  prince  died  at  Naples 
under  suspicious  circtmistances.    After  another  outbreak  of  war 
with  Venice  peace  was  signed  in  1503  between  the  maritime  r^ 
public  and  the  Porte  and  also  between  the  latter  power  and 
Hungary.    Then  the  sultan  was  able  to  turn  his  attention  to  the 
east,  where  Persia,  under  Ismail,  the  founder  of  a  new  dynas^ 
and  the  first  ruler  to  asstune  the  title  of  Shah,  had  risen  into 
new  power,  and  to  the  south,  where  the  sultan  of  Egypt  was 
showing  unmistakable  signs  of  insubordination.    When  Selim  the 
Inflexible  (1512-20)  came  to  the  throne,  the  policy  of  aggresskxi 
in  Europe,  after  defeat  had  been  inflicted  upon  Persia  and 
Egypt  and  the  Turkish  ruler  had  been  proclaimed  the  spiritual 
head  of  the  whole  Islamic  world,  was  restuned.    But  before  that 
policy  could  be  put  under  way  Selim  died  of  the  plague.    Under 
Solyman  I   (1^20-66)  the  Turkish  empire  reached  its  zenith; 
and  among  the  great  rulers  of  the  time,  Francis  I,  Charles  V, 
Henry  VIII,  and  Elizabeth,  none  was  greater,  either  as  a  soldier 
or   a   statesman,   than   the   sultan  .smnagicd    th^,^agnificent. 
Every  one  of  the  Christian  sovereigns  was  absorbed  inhis^own 
interests;  and  Hungary,  which  now  lay  directly  in  the  way  of 
the  northern  extension  of  the  Turkish  power  was  plunged  into 
anarchy  by  the  fact  that  its  new  king,  Louis  II,  was  still  a  minor. 
The  sultan  perceived  his  opportunity.     P^^g^Hf  wfl^  rapfurpfl 
in  ^S^i ;  and,  by  strengthening  its  fortifications,  it  was  made  a 
Turkish  outpost.     Turning  to  the  south  he  succeeded  in  making 
secure  the  line  of  communication  between  Alexandria  and  Con- 
stantinople and  becoming  master  of  the  eastern  Mediterranean 
by  the  capture  of  Rhodes.    Left  free  to  pursue  the  northern 
campaign,  the  "  Shadow  of  God  on  the  Earth "  then  led  his 
forces   into   Hungary   and   after  an   overwhelming  victory  at 
Mohacs  in  1526  met,  before  the  walls  of  Vienna,  with  his  first 
tal^  repulse^    !He    (ailed   to   anndX   AUstna,    but  ^Hua|^^ 


THE  TURK,  THE  COMET,  AND  THE  DEVIL  399 


Moldaviai  and  Tedisany  were  added  to  thg  T^"^^*s^     ^^j^' 

lominions.    The  mutual  jealousy  of  France  and  the  Empire     

low  brought  the  Turks  into  the  circle  of  European  alliances.  **w-i*^ 
Iharles  V,  apparently  not  content  with  the  possession  of  Ger- 
aany,  the  Netherlands,  Spain,  and  the  greater  part  of  Italy, 
reined  to  be  meditating  a  further  aggrandizement  of  the  Haps- 
turg  power.  In  order  to  offset  such  aggression  a  formal  alliance 
vas  concluded  in  1536  between  France  and  Turkey.    Diversi^ 

%f   ^rr^  ^^*^  "(?  Inngrpr  a  har  to  political  fj^J^Qnriatir^n,      Political 

nterests  rather  than  theology  had  become  the  motive  of  inter- 
lational  relations.  The  conflict  between  the  Crescent  and  the 
Zross  was  now  carried  on  principally  in  the  Mediterranean. 
\ndrea  Doria,  a  brave  Genoese  captain  in  the  employ  of  Charles 
V,  had  been  able  to  inflict  damage  upon  the  Turks  in  the  eastern 
Mediterranean ;  but  when  Barbarossa,  the  great  Barbary  corsair, 
was  made  commander-in-chief  of  all  the  Turkish  naval  forces 
the  coasts  of  Italy  and  Spain  were  continually  harried  by  the 
sultan's  ships.  One  incident  of  this  naval  warfare,  the  expedi- 
tion of  Charles  V  against  Tunis,  we  have  already  briefly  noticed. 
One  other  event  in  the  midst  of  the  interminable  fighting  and 
looting,  the  si^e  of  Malta,  we  have  here  to  mention.  When 
the  Hospitallers,  after^2**protracted  and  gallant  defense,  sur- 
rendered Rhodes  they  wandered  for  some  years  about  the  Medi- 
terranean. At  last  in  1530  Charles  V  bestowed  upon  them  the 
barren  rock  of  Malta.  Before  long  they  had  transformed  it  into 
a  garden-fortress,  and  then  they  resumed  the  warfare  against 
their  old  enemy.  Finally  Solyman,  now  an  old  man,  determined 
to  destroy  those  most  persistent  of  all  his  foes.  But  in  1565, 
after  a  whole  summer  of  slaughter,  the  last  great  struggle  of  the 
flower  of  Christian  chivalry  against  the  stubborn  courage  and 
vast  resources  of  the  Infidel,  in  which  it  is  said  25,000  Turks 
and  5,000  Christians  perished,  the  Turkish  forces  were  obliged 
to  confess  defeat.  In  the  following  year  the  great  sultan,  who 
was  then  seventy-two  years  old,  and  who  ruled  from  Budapest 
to  the  Persian  Gulf,  died ;  and  although  for  yet  another  century 
the  Turkish  empire,  which  had  made  itself  a  central  European 
power,  remained  externally  unbroken,  it  is  from,  his  d^^'tth  thnt.^ 
the  gradual  decline  qj  t:hat  povrer  rrny  h«  Hnted. 

It  would  be  unjust  to  describe  the  invasion  of  Europe  by  the 
Turks  as  a  barbarian  inundation,  for  it  did  not  overwhelm  a 
peaceful  and  orderly  civilization.    Long  before  the  fall  of  Con-  cnutneitr 
stantinople  the  history  of  southeastern  Europe  had  been  an  un-  £L^L 
broken  record  of  warfare  and  pillage.    The  crimes  commonly  B«it 
attributed  to  the  Turks,  treachery  and  cruelty,  were  more  charac- 


400 


THE  CATHOUC  REFORHATION 


t    _■.  -  I  „ 


•^ 


teristic  of  the  conquered  than  of  the  oonqneran.  The 
were  at  least  the  equals  in  morality  and  dhriliatiQa  of  titaa 
inhabitants  of  the  Balkan  r^ion  who  had  now  becxMue 
subjects,  and  in  the  virtues  of  courage,  enefgjTf 
pline,  and  temperance  they  surpassed  them.  Ibaaj 
the  time  were  aware  of  this  and  so  the  Tmloi  were  not 
unwdcomed  in  Maced<Miia,  Servia,  and  Bosnia.  But  fram  ttiift 
does  not  necessarily  follow  that  the  Christians  were  better  cf 
under  their  Turldidi  rulers  than  they  would  have  been  nedv 
rulers  of  their  own  faith  and  nationalities.  In  two  reapeda  Iht 
Tuiidsh  government  rapidly;began  to  show  signs  of  i/tfp 
In  the  first  place  the  suit 

tolerant  military  chi^^tfi"  mff\  ^ __^ 

decent  d^pot,.  who  n^lected  the  affairs  of  state;  and,  in  tke 
second  placeTthe  TMrlHj^][i  yjyflrP"*^"!  mmlnallj  snmr  nwliT 

In  anotter  feqiect  tbe 

failed  to  use  their  opportunity  to  the  best  advantage;  fligr 
failed  to  assimilate  ^hft  ^"^^q^^ml  pffT^^  *''*^  ^  f^  TirminfflTi 
mere  army  ot  occupation. 

The  Turk,  the  comet,  and  the  devil,  it  was  bdieved,  were  al 
inflicted  upon  man  for  his  misdeeds;  and  eadi  one  of  them  bad 
been  foretold  in  far-off  times.  Some  idea  of  the  terror  wfaU 
the  Turk  inspired  in  the  hearts  of  the  Christians  of  the  time  may 
be  gathered  from  the  little  Libettus  de  riiu  et  maribus  Tmconm 
written  by  a  European  who  from  1438  to  1458  was  a  CMpdnt  m 
Adrianople.  **  Almost  all  the  accidents  and  occurrences  of  the 
present  age  assure  us/'  so  the  author  informed  his  contem- 
poraries, ''that  we  have  cause  to  be  anxious,  and  warn  us  to 
fear  the  end  of  the  world,  especially  as  we  are  convinced  that  die 
end  of  the  ages  will  come  upon  us  who  now  live  in  the  wotld. 
Moreover,  the  Holy  Scriptures  in  both  Testaments,  and  eq>e- 
cially  the  Apocalypse,  assure  us  of  this  very  thing,  and  those 
terrible  and  awful  figures  in  Daniel  and  Ezekiel,  which  have 
been  written  not  so  much  for  our  knowledge  and  understandiqg, 
as  to  make  us  fear  the  perils  of  the  latter  days.  Terrible  as  the 
descriptions  are  we  must  believe  that  the  actual  events  will  be 
more  terrible  still.  The  disposition,  too,  of  this  world  plainly 
proves  to  us  its  age  and  approaching  end,  the  tendency  to  evil  in 
all  classes  of  society,  the  aversion  from  good,  the  lust  of  domina- 
tion, the  reluctance  to  obey,  and  even  the  curiosity  of  the  arts, 
the  needless  sumptuousness  of  buildings,  our  imagined  discoveries 
in  science,  and  finally  in  all  things  the  adding  of  new  vanities  to 
the  old.  But  among  all  these  Uiings  that  cruel  beast  (I  mean 
the  sect  of  the  Turks)  should  cause  us  much  anxiety,  for  its 


THE  TURK,  THE  COMET,  AND  THE  DEVIL  401 

omtinuotts  increase,  the  length  of  time  it  has  existed,  its  assiduity     ^'^^* 

in  fighting  and  persecuting  threaten  nothing  less  than  great  peril     

md  scandal,  tribulation  and  utter  misery."  And  later  on  in  his  **•*•*••* 
narrative  he  told  his  readers  that  when  the  Turks  should  extend 
fhdr  tyranny  still  further  "  the  stars  will  waver  from  fear,  the 
foundations  of  the  sea  and  ocean  be  shaken,  and  all  creation  be 
dismayed.''  So  great  were  the  tribulations  about  to  descend  upon 
Christendom,  he  asseverated,  that  "  when  they  shall  appear  you 
will  think  those  things  you  have  seen  thus  far  to  be  solace  in 
comparison  with  them.  You  have  heard  perchance  and  learned 
by  experience  of  the  great  battles  and  victories  of  the  Turks  and 
wondered  thereat,  but  know  that  they  are  but  the  beginning  of 
evils.  For  wait  but  a  little  and  you  shall  see  in  this  sect  such 
tyranny  and  future  magnitude  of  victories  that  neither  the  con- 
quests of  Alexander  the  Great,  nor  those  of  the  Romans,  who 
subdued  the  whole  earth,  can  be  compared  with  them.  For  not 
only  w31  there  be  killing  of  the  body,  as  in  the  wars  of  those 
tyrants,  but  eternal  destruction  of  body  and  soul  alike,  universal 
and  throughout  the  four  quarters  of  the  world."  And  Richard 
Kno^^Tj  writing  in  the  last  years  of  the  sixteenth  century,  jpeaks 


of  the  Turks  as  **  the  present  terror  of  Ihc-  world, 

TEerewil 


1fnTT5 


ity   as   a   ^*  scourge   wnerewith 

^^    TCiigier-Ghislain  Busbecq,  a  Netherlander,  who,  as  the  am- 
bassador of  Ferdinand  of  Austria,  made  several  journeys  to 
Gmstantinople  in  the  middle  of  the  sixteenth  century  revealed 
to  his  contemporaries  one  of  the  fundamental  reasons  for  the 
success  of  the  Turks.    "  Among  the  Turks."  h^  says,  ^'honorg^ 
high  post^-  and  iudflreships.  are  the  rewards  of  great  ability  and  Abmtf 
gocxl  service^    If  a  man  be  dishonest,  or  lazy,  or  careless,  he  J^2^ 
remams  at  the  bottom  of  the  ladder,  an  object  of  contempt;  for  wardsd 
such  qualities  there  are  no  honors  in  Turkey.    This  is  th^  r^asnp  JJirtaT 
wliy  fh^Y  a^**  <y^]rr<Htcfiit  in  fht^r  undertakings,  why  they  are  able 
lord  It  over  others,  and  why  they  are  daily  extending  the 
bounds  of  their  empire.    These  are  not  our  ideas ;  with  us  there 
is  no  opening  left  for  merit ;  the  prestige  of  birth  is  the  sole  key 
to  advancement  in  our  public  service."    But  the  Christians  who, 
having  the  power  to  see  things  clearly,  had  also  the  opportunity 
to  observe  these  and  other  causes  of  the  success  of  the  Turks 
were  comparatively  few  in  nvunber;  the  vast  majority  looked 
upon  the  Turk  as  a  scourge  sent  to  punish  them  for  their  sins. 

Speculation  and  rumor  were  rife  as  to  the  wealth  of  the  Turk.  WMOCb 


"  It  is  commonly  thought  that  his  revenue  exceedeth  not  eight  ^iia* 

^  WW*- 


minions  of  gold,"  said  Knolles,  who  furnishes  us  with  one  of 


a^^ff- 


402 


THE  CATHOLIC  REFORMATION 


usSi-ieoo 


the  contemporary  estimates ;  **  and  albeit  that  it  might  seem  tint 
he  might  of  so  large  an  empire  receive  a  far  greater  revenue  yd 
doth  he  not,  for  that  both  he  and  his  men  of  war  (in  whose  power 
all  things  are)  have  their  greatest  and  almost  only  care  upon 
arms,  fitter  by  nature  to  waste  and  destroy  countries  than  to 
preserve  and  enrich  them."  Yet,  he  adds,  ''are  his  extraonfr 
nary  escheats  to  be  greatly  accounted  of,  especially  his  confisca^ 
tions,  fines,  amercements  (which  are  right  many),  his  tributes^ 
tithes  and  tenths  of  all  preys  taken  by  sea  or  land,  with  divert 
other  such  like  far  exceeding  his  standing  and  certain  revenue; 
his  pashas  and  other  g^reat  officers  like  ravening  harpies  as  it 
were  sucking  out  the  blood  of  his  poor  subjects  and  heaping  vtp 
inestimable  treasures,  which  for  the  most  part  fall  again  into 
the  grand  Signior  his  coffers." 

The  Turkish  soldiers  filled  many  of  the  Christians  who  met 
them  with  admiration.  ''  I  had  never  seen  such  a  sight  before," 
declared  Busbecq,  speaking  of  those  whom  he  saw  at  Constanti- 
nople, ''  and  I  was  delighted  with  the  gay  colors  of  their  shidds 
and  spears,  their  jeweled  scimitars,  their  many-colored  plumes, 
their  turbans  of  purest  white,  their  robes  of  purple  and  dark 
green,  their  gallant  steeds  and  superb  accouterments."  And 
describing  those  who  were  participating  in  war  he  told  his  fellow 
Christians  that  "  it  is  the  patience.  ^ylf-Hpnial.  and  t|)pft  of  the 
Turkish  soldier  that  enabled  him  to  face  the  most  trying  ^^JlVr''' 
stances  Md  ^hme  sateiv  out  of  the  (Jangers  that  surround  him. 
What  a  contrast  to  our  men  1    C^hrxstian  soldiers  on  a  campaign" 


Tnrkiih 
8oldl«n 


refuse  to  put  up  with  their  ordinary  food."  And  again  he  said 
that  everywhere  in  the  Turkish  camps  "order  prevailed,  there 
was  perfect  silence,  no  disturbances,  no  quarrels,  no  bullying;  a 
state  of  things  that  must  seem  well-nigh  incredible  to  those  whose 
experience  is  limited  to  Christian  camps."  Yet,  as  we  have  said, 
it  was  not  to  such  things  as  these  that  the  vast  majority  of  the 
Christians  attributed  the  success  of  the  Turks,  but  rather  to  the 
will  of  God  who  made  use  of  them  as  an  instrtunent  of  His 
wrath. 

The  most  remarkable  feature  of  the  Turkish  military  power 
was  the  corps  of  Janizaries,  a  systeij]  ^f  f'yjf'  T""H"'t*^ff  tffahliihotl 

id  nf>rf<>rtpH  in  the  fourteenth  century.     Every  four  years  the 


agents  of  the  sultan  took  from  the  Christian  villages  under 
Turkish  rule  one-fifth  of  all  the  boys  between  the  ages  of  six  and 
nine.  They  chose,  of  course,  only  the  strongest  and  most  intelli- 
gent. Severed  from  all  their  family  ties  and  early  associations 
they  were  educated  as  Mohammedans  at  Constantinople.  Some 
of  them  were  placed  in  civil  service,  but  most  of  them  were  placed 


THE  TURK,  THE  COMET,  AND  THE  DEVIL  403 

b  otic  or  another  of  the  one  hundred  and  sixty-five  companies     ^^y* 

of  Janizaries.    Celibacy  was  enjoined  upon  them;  and,  exempt      

{rom  the  operation  of  the  law,  the  only  discipline  to  which  they  i*w-woo 
were  subjected  was  that  of  their  officers.  They  adopted  the 
tenets  of  one  of  the  most  popular  of  the  Mohammedan  sects  and 
thus  they  became  a  religious-military  order  somewhat  similar  to 
those  that  grew  up  among  the  Crusaders.  Under  these  condi- 
tions they  became  a  most  formidable  weapon  in  the  hands  of 
every  sultan  who  could  control  them.  They  were  the  most  feared 
of  all  the  Turkish  forces;  Knolles,  like  the  majority  of  the  Chris- 
tians, belieyeijl  them  ^o  hf  '*  th^  grreate«^|  {^trengi:!^  ^f  the  Turkish 
cmptre>'L  And  the   author  of   the   Libellus  asserted  that  the 

lers  among  them  had  bows  of  such  strength  that  their  arrows 
could  penetrate  any  shield  or  breastplate.  About  the  middle  of 
the  sixteenth  century  the  corps  began  to  degenerate.  Its  mem- 
bers were  allowed  to  marry ;  then  they  were  allowed  to  introduce 
their  children  into  the  service ;  and  still  later  the  children  of  other 
Mohammedans  were  permitted  to  be  enrolled.  Thus  the  charac- 
teristics that  distinguished  the  Janizaries  from  other  Turkish 
troops  were  gradually  obliterated. 

The  "  heavy  bondage  of  the  Turks  "  was  a  constant  dread  to 
the  Christians,  especially  to  those  who  lived  near  the  borders  of 
the  scddan's  country.  "  Just  as  I  left  Constantinople,"  wrote 
Busbecq,  "  I  met  some  wagons  of  boys  and  girls  who  were  being  suTtrr 
carried  from  Hungary  to  the  slave-market  at  Constantinople;  yJJ^^i^g 
this  is  the  commonest  kind  of  Turkish  merchandise  .  .  .  un- 
happy Clinsnans  ot  all  ranks,  ages  and  sexes  who  were  bem^ 
^med  ott  to  a  horrible  slavery."  And  further  on  he  wrote  that 
**  Slave-hunting  is  the  chief  source  of  profit  f^  thf  ^"^-'^^''^  ''^^- 

!L  And  in  the  Libellus  we  read  that  "  In  order  that  their 


captives  may  more  easily  and  conveniently  be  preserved  "  the 
Turks  "  deputed  merchants  to  reside  in  all  their  towns  for  the 
buyif^  and  selling  of  men/'  and  that  ''  in  all  towns  there  is  a 
special  market-place  for  the  buying  and  selling  of  men  and  places 
specifically  set  apart  for  that  purpose."  But  from  the  same 
little  book  we  learn  that  there  were  some  mitigations  of  Turkish 
slavery ;  that,  for  one  thing,  "  the  Turks  comoel  no  man  to  denv 
his  faith,  nor  are  they  very  anxious  to  persuade  any  one  to  do 
so,  nor  do  they  hold  perverts  in  great  estimation." 

The  corsairs,  who  infested  the  Barbary  coast  and  who  seized 
Christian  ships  and  their  crews  and  made  piratical  raids  upon 
Christian  countries,  were  a  great  pest.    There  had  been  pirates  <*»■•*«• 
in  the  great  inland  sea  ever  since  the  days  of  Jason  and  the 
Golden  Fleece;  and  there  had  been  Moslem  pirates  before  the 


Tb« 


404  THE  CATHOLIC  REFORMATION 


^^^y*     fall  of  Granada,  but  that  event  greatly  increased  their  numben; 

thousands  of  Moors  who  had  immigrated  from  Spain  to  Africa 

14M-1600  yf^Yt  eager  to  revenge  themselves  upon  the  Spaniards  who  had 
forced  them  into  exile.  It  was  not  only  Spain  that  suflfered  at 
the  hands  of  the  corsairs.  Italy,  France,  and  other  Christian 
ships  and  shores  experienced  the  depredations  of  these  maritime 
robbers.  The  captive  Christians  were  held  as  slaves  in  Africa 
or  compelled  to  work  the  oars  in  the  ships  that  harried  the  south- 
ern shores  of  Christendom.    The  fall  of  Rhodes  in  i^jif  ^^^^  »h# 

TS/tnhammi^fin  i\i^f  Qiiprpnii>  jj}  \h^  eastern  MeHifPrram^att  >  ipIhV 

the  capture  by  the  brothers  Barbatossa  of  the  toi 

few^ears  earlier  than  this  and,  a  few  years  later,  of  the  little 
rocky  island  that  forms  the  harbor  resulted  in  a  similar  supremaqr 
in  the  West.  The  elder  of  the  two  brothers  was  klUed  bylEe 
Spaniards  in  1517.  The  yoimger,  known  as  Khair-ed-Din,  was 
made  beylerbey,  or  governor-general,  of  Algiers  by  the  sultan 
Selim  I  and  from  this  event  dates  the  establishment  of 


rule  in  northwest  Africa.    The  age  of  the  great  corsairs  mgj  Iff 


said  to  have  ft^rmn^ft^A  witj)  t^e  battle  of  Lepanto  which  pointed 
lo  tlie  flMline  brthe  naval  supremacy  of  the  Turks.  Their  mari- 
time prestige  was  shattered ;  and  the  Barbary  corsairs,  no  longer 
supported  by  that  prestige,  declined  into  petty  pirates  who  con- 
fined themselves  to  plundering  raids  and  avoided  contests  with 
Christian  ships  of  war. 

Tt  was  t^g  K^i?^  fif  ^'^^'^^'^'^'^'^  ^^'^*'  in  f^^-^ty  an j  Itist  thg 

Turks  w<*ri*  iinfif]iij^^pf^^    Knolles  asserted  that  when   in    1432 
'  i nessaloiiica  was  taken  by  Murad  II  "the  Venetian  soldiers 
fled  to  their  galleys  lying  at  anchor  in  the  haven,  and  so  got  to 
sea ;  but  the  infinite  miseries  which  the  poor  Christians  endured 
in  the  fury  of  that  barbarous  nation,  no  tongue  is  able  to  express, 
or  pen  describe;  death  was  less  pain  than  the  ignominious  out- 
rages and  unspeakable  villainies  which  many  good  Christians 
The  Com-     there  suffered."    And  speaking  of  the  Turks  in  general  he  de- 
ttonS^       clared  that  their  cruelty,  "  their  torments  and  strange  tortures," 
Turkish       and  the  many  "  strange  kinds  of  death  "  were  "  such  as  would 
orneity       abhor  any  Christian  ear  to  hear."    But  the  author  of  the  Libellus 
does  not  support  the  contemporary  opinion  as  to  the  unexampled 
lust  of  the  Turk.    "  Each  man  among  them,"  he  said,  "  is  allowed 
by  law  to  have  twelve  lawful  wives,  and  as  many  concubines  as 
he  pleases  without  number  or  computation."    Yet,  he  continued, 
"  I  marvel  greatly  when  I  consider  the  modefty  afn?"g  Turkish 
^mep  and  the  indecent  clothing  and  feprofcate  conduct  of  women 
among  the  Christians."    And  still  further  on  he  adds  that  even 
in  their  own  homes  it  was  impossible  to  detect  among  the  Turics 


THE  TURK,  THE  COMET,  AND  THE  DEVIL  405 


**  tiie  least  sign  of  lasdviousness  or  immodesty  between  husband     ^^^' 

and  wife,  eitfaer  in  act,  movement,  or  conversation."  

It  was  not  the  enlightened  opinion  of  the  Turks  held  by  men  i*w-i**o 
open  to  conviction  who  had  dwelt  in  the  Turkish  cities  and 
visited  the  Turkish  camps  that  prevailed  among  the  masses  of 
Christendom,  but  the  belief  that  the  Turks  were  monsters  of 
lust  and  crue%.  And  ^dually  the  conviction  grew  that  the 
Turk  was  a  aoifcrge  sent  by  (^od  to  punish  i^nnsiians  ior  their. 
guijL  aiid*lWB^BBWB|Wlilif!n!nea  within  what  limits  "this  so 
dreadful  an  empuhcT'^  ^ould  be  contained.  So  in  order  to  fore- 
tell the  advent  of  the  Turk  or  to  learn  of  his  fall,  many  an  appeal 
was  made  to  the  stars.  It  was  an  age  of  astrology.  This  leads 
us  to  the  second  source  of  the  terror  of  the  time  —  the  celestial 


source.  — 

From  remote  times  there  had  come  down  a  varied  mass  of 
beliefs  concerning  comets,  meteors,  eclipses,  and  other  astronom-  tim 
ical  phenomena.     Signs  were  displayed  in  the  heavens,  it  was  g^oa^ 
thought,  for  the  purpose  of  warning  mankind.     Stars  were  held  Paaie 
to  foreshow  felicity.    A  wonderful  star  had  announced  the  birth 
of  Buddha,  another  had  accompanied  that  of  Abraham,  still 
another  had  appeared  when  Moses  was  bom,  "  and  of  all  the 
l^[ends  that  have  grown  about  the  birth  of  Jesus  of  Nazareth 
none  is  more  beautiful  than  that  of  the  star  which  is  said  to 
have  conducted  the  wise  men  to  the  manger  of  the  peasant 
child."    Eclipses,  it  was  thought,  gave  expression  to  the  distress 
of  nature  at  the  woes  of  humanity.    The  earth  was  shrouded  in 
darkness,  so  we  are  told,  at  the  death  of  Julius  Caesar;  and  at 
the  crucifixion  on  Calvary  *'  darkness  overspread  earth  from  the 
sixth  to  the  ninth  hour." 

It  was  not  only  the  uneducated  who  entertained  belief  in  as- 
trology.   Every  embryo  science  of  the  time  was  clouded  by  the 
lingering  superstitions  of  long  ago.    Even  Pico  delta  Mirandola  Btittf  of 
had  faith  in  the  old  wives'  tales  that  the  Middle  Ages  had  left  SJa^S^ 
for   a  l^;acy.    "Omens,  prophecies,  and  supernatural  coinci- 
dences"   accompanied    him    "all    through    life."    There    were 
**  oracles  in  every  tree  and  mountain-top  "  for  him,  and  "  a  sig-  f^^  ^ 
nificance  in  every  accidental  combination  of  the  events  of  life."  ^^        ^ 
The  atmosphere  of  the  time  was  surcharged  with  occultism. 
Belief  in  the  mysteries  of  astrology  was  well-nigh  universal. 
Many  of  the  popes  placed  great  reliance  upon  astrology.    Nicho- 
las V  directed  that  litanies  should  be  recited  in  order  to  avert 
tfie  misfortune  threatened  by  an  eclipse  of  the  sun.     Paul  II 
believed  that  the  events  of  his  life  had  been  predicted  by  the 
astrologers.    Leo  X  permitted  astrological  prophecies  to  be  dedi- 


4o6 


THE  CATHOLIC  REFORMATION 


OBAP. 


1600-lMO 


B«]ltfof 

PrlnoMin 
Aitrologjr 


cated  to  him.  In  1524  the  aims  of  Qement  VII  were  impressed 
on  the  printed  prophecies  of  an  astrologer.  Patd  III  was  the 
patron  and  the  dupe  of  astrologers.  And  Pius  IV  does  not 
seem  to  have  been  free  from  the  same  delusion.  Many  of  the 
rest  of  the  clergy  were  infected  with  the  belief  in  astrology. 
Cardinals,  bishops  and  abbots  accepted  dedications  of  published 
prognostications.  Cardinal  Peter  d'Ailly  even  gained  great  dis- 
tinction as  an  astrologer  himself. 

The  laity  were  no  less  dominated  by  fhcT  Mfte  ddence  of  die 
stars  than  were  the  clergy.    The  belief  in  ^trol 

from  the  highest  to  the  Iqwpjs^  p^pfijitu-  The  emperor 
Frederick  III,  at  whose  court  the  "  far-famed  "  astrologer  Josq)h 
Lichtenberger  worked,  was  a  believer  in  hidden  forces  that  de- 
termine the  course  of  events.  Maximilian  I  included  the  **  influ- 
ence of  the  planets  "  in  his  maxims  of  government,  studied  the 
art  of  star-gazing,  and  had  an  astrologer  for  his  private  secretary. 
Charles  V,  as  we  shall  see,  was  powerfully  impressed  by  the 
supposed  significance  of  the  comets  that  came  in  the  middle  of 
the  sixteenth  century;  and  his  brother  Ferdinand  was  equally 
convinced  of  the  truths  of  astrology.  It  was  from  the  prognosti- 
cations of  an  astrologer  that  Maximilian  II  borrowed  the  maxims 
that  glided  his  conduct  and  Rudolf  II  was  himself  a  famous 
astrologer.  The  astrologers  of  the  time  exercised  a  vast  influ- 
ence. Many  intrigues  and  moves  on  the  chess-board  of  politics 
must  be  put  down  to  their  account,  for  a^iprict  f^^yy  p""^^  ^^^ 
one  of  thfrp  ff>r  h\^  ^^^^*^y^i^]p^  <<  jji  i\i^  sixteenth  century,''  says 
Friedrich  in  his  Astrologie  und  Reformation,  "the  most  im- 
portant political  events  in  German  history  were  bound  up  with 
astrological  predictions  and  (one  may  venture  to  say)  brought 
about  by  them." 

gven  scholars,  as  we  have  seen  in  the  case  of  Pico  della 
Mirandola.  did  homage  to  astrological  delusions.  There  were 
always  professors  at  th^  VUfious  universities  who  busied  them- 
selves with  the  interpretation  of  astrological  authors.  The  most 
famous  scholar  of  the  time,  Erasmus,  questioned  the  astrologers 
as  to  the  origin  of  the  wrangling  and  strife  that  had  broken  out 
everywhere.  Little  wonder,  then,  that  minds  of  less  caliber  fol- 
lowed the  universal  custom. 

Protestants  as  well  as  Catholics  believed  in  signs  and  won- 
ders.   The  leading  reformers  were  thoroughly  imbued  with  the 
current  astrological  superstitions.    To  the  astrological  delusion, 
which  played  a  most  important  part  in  his  life,  Melanchthon  was 
i.\j*^*'\^*'    extremely   addicted.    And  in   commenting  upon   a  passage  in 

Luke  that  deals  with  celestial  signs  Luther  said :    "  The  courses 


BeUef  of 
the  Behol- 
an  In  As- 
trology 


BeUefof 
Protoftant 
Leaders  in 
Aitrologjr 


THE  TURK,  THE  COMET,  AND  THE  DEVIL  407 

of  the  heavens  have  been  so  ordered  from  all  eternity  as  to     ^^^^' 

a£Ford  such  signs  of  the  last  day.    The  heathen  assert  that  the     

comet's  appearance  is  a  natural  one,  but  God  creates  no  comet   w^w^iw^ 
that  does  not  portend  a  certain  misfortune."    And  again  he  as- 
serted that  "  God  sets  His  signs  in  heaven  when  a  misfortune  is 
to  overtake  the  world  and  lets  comets  arise,  or  the  sun  and 
moon  lose  their  light,  or  some  other  unwonted  phenomenon  ap- 


»f 


Especial  importance  was  attributed  to  comets  ^f^  fnlrong  nf  tti^ 
fHrint  rtiipljjjjijx^  Almost  every  decade  of  the  medieval  cen-  tim 
turies  had  seen  Europe  filled  with  alarm  by  the  appearance  of  a  J^fJ^^ 
comet  in  the  sky  which  was  thought  to  be  "  a  ball  of  fire  flung 
from  the  right  hand  of  an  angry  God  to  warn  the  dwellers  on 
earth."  At  the  close  of  the  first  decade  of  the  twentieth  century 
superstition  regarding  the  influence  of  Halley's  comet  was  by  no 
means  infrequently  encountered.  MayTt  not  men  be  assumed 
a  priori  that  the  men  of  the  sixteenth  century  connected  all  kinds 
of  incidents  with  the  appearance  in  1531  of  the  same  celestial 
visitant?  But  ass'jimption  is  unnecessary  when  facts  are  at  hand. 
For  a  month  a'  che  end  of  the  summer  the  comet  was  observed 
throughout  all  Germany  and  Switzerland.  It  caused  great  ex- 
citement Every  evening,  as  long  as  it  was  visible,  7wing]j  was 
asked  about  it  on  the  cathedral  square  at  Zurich ;  and  this  boldest 
of  all  the  more  important  rpfnmiprQ  HprlarpH  tha^;  it  jbetokened 
calamity.  The  extensive  literature  that  sprang  up  relating  to 
tne  comet  and  the  one  of  the  following  year  pictures  in  lively 
colors  the  various  disasters  that  were  expected  to  result  frcMn 
these  portents  of  evil.  Famine^  war,  floods,  drought,  pestilence 
among  men  and  beasts,  and^  other  dire  calamines  were  t6  bCfaif 
tne  eartn  ana  its  inhaDiiants;  indeed,  the  universe  itself  was  to 
be  dissolved  into  primeval  chaos.  From  such  a  plenitude  of 
possibilities  men  chose  the  ones  that  seemed  to  correspond  with 
their  theological  views.  Luther  declared  a  comet^  which  seems 
to  have  been  that  of  1531,  to  be  a  portent  of  evil  to  Charles  and 
tis  brother  Ferdinand  because  "  its  tail  was  turned  to  the  north 
ind  then  to  the  south  as  if  it  pninteH  tn  hnth  h^<;^^|iers.''  Melanch- 
thon  hoped  that  the  comet  signified  catastrophe  to  his  theological 
enemies.  Agricola  came  to  the  conclusion  that  it  threatened  not 
only  the  Emperor  but  also  all  priests  and  monks  and  that  it  fore- 
told the  prevalence  of  drought  pestilence,  and  bloodshed  in  the 
Hapsburg  lands  where  the  militant  spirit  of  Catholicism  was 
already  displaying  activity.  To  the  influence  of  the  comet  of 
1556  Charles  V  often  ascribed  the  death  of  his  great-grandfather, 
Charles  of  Burgundy;  and  the  same  apparition,  and  an  earlier 


406  THE  CATHOLIC  REFORMATION 


« 

^^^'       comet,  tV^fi  fipry  nnf  ni  T^tj^^  ^^fj^  far^/^re  Sti  tiU  /^^».M^«^trl^♦;ny^^lil 

abdicate  a"^  tififlf  ^-^^'^gt  ^^"^^  *^^^  ^^*^iiltiTnT^^  ^/^-m  ;«^  »i^^  ^v^ 

^••••^•^  vent  of  Yuste>  Pingre.  in  his  Comitograpkie,  says  that  tbe 
comet  of  1556  fr^htened  Charles  and  caused  him  to  exclaim  **  In 
this  sign  I  see  my  approaching  end."  Lubienitzld,  the  Polish 
historian,  writing  in  the  middle  of  the  seventeenth  century,  quotes 
Chytrseus,  who  was  a  contemporary  of  Charles,  as  authority  for 
the  same  exclamation  of  the  emperor.  And  Friedrich  says  that, 
if  credence  can  be  given  to  Pingre  and  the  historians  upon  whom 
that  writer  relied,  this  fear  of  the  comet  contributed  in  no  small 
d^^ee  to  the  emperor's  plan  of  yielding  the  imperial  crown  to  his 
brother  Ferdinand.  "  It  is  not  by  any  means  unlikely/'  he  as- 
serts, ''  that  this  comet  at  least  contributed  to  Charles's  design, 
which  was  certainly  of  an  older  date,  being  carried  out  more 
quickly."  There  was,  as  we  have  seen,  a  previous  comet  in  1554* 
lese  two  comets,  then,  while  they  were  not  the  cause  of  the 


^n^or's  d^liiton  lu  alidlcatg,  senii  undoubtedly  to  have  been 
awacilggL^"^  ^  reminaer.  In  155&  ihere  was  still  another  comet, 
and  Lubienitzki  quotes  Strada,  another  contemporary  of  Charles, 
as  making  the  emperor's  last  illness  begin  with  its  appearance  and 
as  making  his  death  occur  at  the  precise  hour  of  its  disappearance. 
We  have  said  that  even  the  lowest  stratum  of  society,  the 
Btiitf  of  peasantry,  was  permeated  with  the  belief  in  astrology.  It  is  not 
2J^^  difficult  to  demonstrate  that  fact.  Medicine  was  closely  inter- 
AitroiHT  woven  with  astrology.  The  physician  who  knew  nothing  of  as- 
trology was  regarded  as  an  impostor.  No  treatment  was  adopted 
without  a  knowledge  of  the  patient's  horoscope.  Astrology,  in 
fact,  dominated  every  circumstance  of  life.  The  common  people 
came  into  frequent  contact  with  physicians  and  surgeons.  So  it 
was  but  natural  that  they,  too,  even  had  they  thus  far  escaped 
it,  should  become  infected  with  the  belief  in  astrology.  The 
truth  would  seem  to  be  that  their  own  long-descended  faith  in 
the  power  of  the  celestial  bodies  to  influence  the  affairs  of  human 
life  received  confirmation  at  this  time.  The  peasants  were  also 
interested  inastrology  because  of  its  prognosticatio!is-of""tHc 
weaiher.  "^I'he  new  art  of  printing  scattered  these  prophecies 
far  and  wide;  and  many  of  the  pamphlets  were  illustrated  with 
woodcuts  that  enabled  those  who  could  not  read  to  gather  the 
gist  of  the  announcement.  It  was  at  this  time  especially  the 
comets,  mysterious  visitors  from  the  boundless  realms  of  space, 
that  filled  every  stratum  of  society  with  fear.  A  flood  of  popu- 
lar calendars  and  other  pamphlets  of  prognostication  scattered 
abroad  tidings  and  interpretations  of  these  messengers  of  evil. 
Astrologers  were  consulted,  as  we  have  seen,  by  the  powerful 


THE  TURK,  THE  COMET,  AND  THE  DEVIL  409 


and  well-to-do  classes  upon  all  questions  of  public  and  private 

life.      The  succession  of   appaptiong  of   hiaying  starft   that  fnrXr       JIZ. 

place  in  the  middle  ^f  the  sjjyf^ritti  /^AfiHiry  i-^nHi^^  ^^he  popular  iw^i^oo 
minH^  skiresk^y  fnr^t\t\y  tUghirHtl  hy  thif  mnny  rhftnciin  gt  thp 

jeration  that  was  drawing  to  a  close.  ^\\\]  mo^^  Hictraitght, 

flie  JHIWil&l  source  of  the  religious  panic  of  the  time  involved 
the^oeliei  m  bvmg  jind  actlV6  t>6W&f s  ot  darkness,    i^own  from  timZb. 
the  prehistoric  past  had  come  the  conception  of  a  living  embodi-  SjJJJiof 
ment  of  the  malignant  forces  of  nature  and  the  sinful  inclinations  Pukie 
of  mankind.    This  living  embodiment  of  evil  was  in  time  merged 
into  the  personality  of  Lucifer,  that  bright  but  rebellious  arch- 
angel, who,  with  his  followers,  one-tenth  of  the  angelic  hosts, 
had  been  cast  forth  from  heaven.    Owing  to  the  inscrutable 
ways  of  God  the  devil  and  his  hosts  were  allowed  to  continue 
to  exist  and  to  endeavor  with  cunning  arts  to  tempt  man  to 
destruction.    Man  was  constantly  aftQaileH  hy  Hey^js  and  defended 
_^  '~^  A  mighty  struggle  for  his  soul  began  with" 

iis^irth  and  ended  only  with  his  death.  Slowly,  as  the  theology 
of  the  medieval  Church  grew  by  accretion,  this  belief  in  satanic 
aggression  and  saintly  aid  became  defined  with  precision.  The 
ai^fhmpgipnrphjr  Hpvi^  YT?!*^  ^  familiar  personage  in  the  th^^g^ts 
of  men.  To  effect  the  destruction  of  the  soul  of  man  there  was 
flOthmglit  which  he  would  hesitate,  no  situation  in  which  he 
would  not  place  himself.  Luther*s  belief  in  the  devil  was  ex- 
ceedingly robust.  Few  there  were  who  doubted  his  existence. 
The  very  atmosphere  of  the  time,  so  full  of  doctrinal  strife  and 
charged  with  implacable  hatred,  increased  the  anxious  feeling  of 
the  devil's  nearness.  The  demonism  of  the  dying  throes  of  an- 
tiquity, of  the  dark  days  when  paganism  was  found  incompetent 
to  furnish  the  spiritual  need  of  a  perishing  world,  was  resusci- 
tated. Then  the  vague  but  deep-seated  feeling  of  uneasiness,  th< 
fears  excited  by  the  threatenings  of  terrestrial  and  celestial  forces 
and  the  fear  of  infernal  machinations,  combined  with  the  uni- 
versal lust  of  blood  to  produce  the  wild  outbreak  of  the  witch- 
craft persecutions.  • 

What  was  the  belief  in  witchcraft?  The  idea,  so  well  estab- 
lished in  apostolic  times,  that  what  ly^  now  count  insanity  is 
giused  by  the  entrance  of  a  devil  into  the  body,  by  demoniac  pos-  ^ij["^" 
Scssioil,  ljeL<uue  an  aLLcplcd  dutlunt  in  tliL  Middlo  Ag<oi — Eveff 
ijTegory  tne  (jreat,  an  unusually  broad-nund^d  uuii  fui  Ilis  time, 
solemnly  relates  the  story  of  a  nun  who  when  walking  in  her 
convent  garden  failed  to  make  the  sign  of  the  cross  before  eating 
a  lettuce-leaf  and  so  immediately  became  possessed  of  a  devil. 
There  can  be  no  proper  understanding  of  the  medieval  mind  with- 


4IO  THE  CATHOLIC  REFORMATION 


out  a  realization  of  its  consciousness  of  the  surrounding  hosts  d 

evil  spirits  who  were  ever  on  the  watch  to  lure  mankind  to  perfr 

1600-1600  ^Jqjj  ^11  ^j^g  ^g^  State  churches  of  the  ecclesiastical  revolution 
accepted  the  doctrine  of  diabolic  possession  without  qualifieatkn. 
No  one  urged  it  more  vigorously  than  Luther ;  and  Calvin  shared 
the  same  belief.  But  ^^ho^^^  r^*i'^***ifiior'  4^^  "?^  necessarily 
the  irrevf>cAh1e  Hnnm  nf  the  unhapoY  maili  "^^  Ag^^\  rniii^h^ 
exorcised.  Instances  of  the  casting  out  of  devils  are  to  be  found 
Tn  the  New  Testament ;  the  practice  prevailed  throughout  Chris- 
tendom in  the  Middle  Ages;  and  it  was  performed  by  Luther, 
Calvin,  Beza  and  other  Protestant  leaders.  Bodily  possesskm, 
however,  was  not  the  extent  of  the  devil's  cunning.  All  manner 
of  wiles  were  employed  by  him.  He  used  many  temptations  to 
win  the  souls  of  men.  Some  men  and  women  were  seduced  by 
the  offer  of  sexual  relations  with  demons ;  others  by  the  granting 
of  magic  powers  to  peer  into  the  future,  "  to  discover  hidden 
things,  to  gratify  enmity,  and  to  acquire  wealth,"  in  return  for 
the  renunciation  of  God.  Up  to  the  fifteenth  century  most  of  tibc 
men  and  women  whom,  it  was  thought,  by  entering  into  such  a 
pact  with  the  devil,  had  become  sorcerers  belonged  to  the  middle 
and  upper  classes ;  but  from  the  opening  of  the  century  ignorant 
peasants,  chiefly  women,  came  to  be  the  most  common  suspects 
of  diabolical  power.  It  is  to  the  possession  of  this  power  by 
great  numbers  of  the  common  peopig  thai  llie  IVAIU^  i!>I  WlKh" 
cratt  was  ^v^n.  But  the  witch  was  more  tnan  a  sorcerer, 
had  not  only  sold  her  own  soul  to  the  devil  but  had  signed  a 
compact  to  assist  him  in  the  work  of  betraying  her  fellow  beings 
to  their  spiritual  death.  Some  souls  there  were  whom  the  devil 
could  not  win  without  the  aid  of  a  human  agent.  In  these  cases 
the  witch  was  indispensable  to  him.  It  was  inevitable  that  such 
a  being  as  a  witch  should  be  held  in  universal  abomination  and 
that  death  should  be  the  most  fitting  penalty  for  the  criminal  and 
the  surest  safeguard  for  the  public  The  purpose,  or  the  theory, 
of  the  witch  persecution,  that  most  fearful  product  of  the  later 
medieval  spirit,  was  to  rid  the  world  of  these  agents  of  the  devil. 
The  epidemic  of  persecution  was  slow  in  getting  under  way. 
The  differentiation  of  witchcraft  from  sorcery  probably  b^;an 
neBpi-  in  the  second  half  of  the  fourteenth  century.  Gradually  the  be- 
^m^mfi  ^'^^  ^^  witches  and  their  evil  powers  spread  beneath  the  surface 
PeiMcn-  in  every  part  of  Europe;  and  persecution  but  served  to  scatter 
its  seeds  ever  wider  than  before.    The  minds  of  the  cominpn 

people  bey^tnp  fill p.H  with   the  idea  that  wH^hes  wf yy^  th^  riH^<te 

oF  almost  every  mis^orfung  that  befell  tbem.    Even  men  of  in- 
tellect  did  not  escape  the  delusion  that  they  were  surrounded  by 


THE  TURK,  1. 


OHAP. 


n-1620 


these  malignant  beings.    Jean 
jurists  and  statesmen  of  the  sixU 
*'  most  rational  and  tolerant  thinkers/*  vx 
ismng  wim  aeain  ihis  most  aetestaple  ol 
ually  the  leai  d(!Velupffd  llllO  an  ^idemic.  " 
the  burning  of  heretics  left  no  room  for  the 
remained  fairly  free  from  the  contagion.     In 
out  only  occasionally ;  and  France  was  afflicted  \ 
minor  d^ree.    The  rhipf  g^p^na  of  its  ravages  >  ^ 
The  delusion  was  greatly  stimulated  Dy  tne  papal  ^uii 
Summis  desiderantes,  and  by  subsequent  bulls  which  ti. 
any  other  single  agency  served  to  encourage  the  persecii. 
witches  and  therefore  to  propagate  the  belief  in  their  exist 
In  the  "  blind  and  senseless  orgies  of  destruction  "  that  lasted  ui* 
the  middle  of  the  seventeenth  century  members  of  the  old  an(» 
the  new  churches  rivaled  each  other  in  their  ferocious  and  hide- 
ous   delirium    of    fear.    Indeed,    the    ecclesiastical    revolution 
eventually  deepened  the  superstition.    The  woz^Ljcases-^l-wkeh 
Imming  occurred  at  times  of  f;^T?*^  ^^prAccif^n  /%r  r<*cfiAcc  A-irrit^ 

mcnt.  No  Oth€f  period  of  European  history  is  so  filled  with 
liorror  as  that  in  which  the  witch-madness  raged  at  its  height 
No  reliable  figures  as  to  the  total  number  of  lives  sacrificed 
to  the  fearful  delusion  are  available,  but  it  is  estimated  that  in 
Germany  alone  in  the  seventeenth  century  one  hundred  thou- 
sand were  put  to  death.  No  counsel  was  allowed  to  the  ac- 
cused; and,  in  order  to  obtain  confessions  that  would  impli- 
cate others  as  well  as  the  persons  under  arrest,  trickery  and 
torture  were  employed.  The  witchcraft  craze  was  "  esseni 
a  disease  of  the  imagination  '* ;  and  its  results  to  morals  ^"^ 
Tg^^on  were  in  ihe  highest  degree  Hppinr^hlp 

TViP    Vfijir    4^1    jUr     I  iirj;,    ^^e    COmety    ana    th^    devil    spread   PiBieMi 

throughout   Europe   and   filled   the  years   with   terror^    Panic  JlSS?to* 
hunted  the  people  and  reached  forth  for  them  with  her  clutch-  um  Boo- 
ing hands.    Only  here  and  there  did  reason,  blown  upon  by  55Sd'*" 
these  g^sts  of  terror,   shine  with  an  untroubled  light.    This  2!?*^ 
YTJc^espread  fp^rrr^i  helped  to  produce  that  revulsion  of  feeling 
which  is  called  the  <^athoHg  Reaction^    When  one  has  dwelt 
long  in  the  atmosphere  of  terror  the  suspicion  that  calamity  is 
the  punishment  of  innovation,  of  the  forsaking  of  the  ways 
of  the  fathers,  grows  into  conviction.    The  prevailing  mental 
state  made  for  the  success  of  the  newly  aroused  militant  spirit 
of  Catholicism. 

The  Catholic  Reformation  was  not  a  backward  movement 
It  ^as  a  reforming  movement  within  the  ancestral  Pah  '"^^■i 


4IO 


THE  CATHOLIC  REFORl^tf  aTION 


^ 


X600-l«00 


/ 


/ 


/ 


out  a  realization  of  its  consciousg^g^racter  than 
evil  spirits  who  were  ever  on  tfefdjtion  to  bei 

tion.     All  the  new  ^^^^^  ShUt^rrt    fn    Knliy^t*^   ^^^   immnrality  nf 

accepted  the  doctrine  of^^^p  t^itifi  ie  t^r)-  nrrrr  On  the  other 
No  one  urged  it  more  vr^inglian,  and  Calvinistic  revolts,  as  wc 
the  same  belief.  But  ''faced  backwards,  in  mtention  at  least,  to 
fhi^  irri>vny>h1f>  t^nn^^x^'  But  it  IS  impossible  to  recall  either  a 
fexorcised.  Instajtitution  that  has  been  outlived.  So  primitive 
in  the  New  Tjgs  not  restored.  There  came  a  time  when  Luther 
tendom  itvfiends  felt  a  revulsion  of  feeling  against  the  logical 
Calvin,  ^f  their  own  teachings  "  lest  the  world  should  go  f ur- 
howevejio  ruin."  The  fever  of  reform  b^;an  to  relax  and  to 
of  w|^ay  to  the  timorous  lassitude  of  repose.  Passion  always 
wUgs  and  is  followed  by  a  revulsion  in  proportion  to  the  heat 
tit  was  found  that  after  the  authority  of  a  Church  hadj>een  dis- 
cardedfof  the  authority  of  a  Book  men  did  not  suddenly^E^ome 
generous  and  good ;  and  so,  as  always,  three  out  of  foiifjoflhe 
cix)wd  were  ready  to  turn  back.  In  this  natural  revulsion  an< 
in  the  terror  that  overspread  the  continent,  militant  Catholicism 
oun< 


CHAPTER  XXI 

THE  RISE  OF  THE  JESUITS 

I.    Ignatius  Loyola. 

a.    The  Society  of  Jesus. 

3.    The  Generalship  of  Loyola. 

IGNATIUS  LOYOLA   (i49i?-95?-i556)   was  Jjom-ia^c     ohap. 
castle  of  Loyola,  in  Guipuzcpa.  ong  nf  t*"^  *h^^  Ranqilfi      ^°^ 
provinces  ot   ^pain/  wnose  inhabitants  had  been  independent  1491-1520 
fro&rxffiemmiemorialy  some  fifteen  miles  from  the  port  of  San 
Sebastian.    He  was  taken  to  be  educated  bv  the  high  treasurer  TiMToatii 
of  Ferdinand  and  Isabella,  first  at  a  feudal  castle  and  then  at  ^JJiii^ 
the  court    There  he  became  imbued  with  the  predilections  and  oi>y*  ^^^^ 
aspiTaU(Mis  of  his  nation  and  his  class.    He  was  devoted  to  love       •  A^i^ 
and  to  w^.    The  glitter  of  arms,  the  fame  of  vahant  ^^^s,g^r^^^*ii! 
and  the  adventures  of  gallantry  were  full  of  alluring  charm  tci?^^j^^^T 
him.    Thus  far  his  life  had  not  been  very  edifying.    Yet  despit^J\Lw^3l^ 
this  fact  the  intensity  of  his  Spanish  character,  satisfied  withT^i^^l^^. 
no  half-measures,  had  also  been  displayed  in  a  fervent  religious  ^^^l  y^ 
enthusiaan.    Graceful  and  elegant  courtier  that  he  was,  he  had 
Svritten  not  only  love  sonnets  to  the  lady  of  his  amorous  devo- 
tion, but  also  verses  to  Peter,  the  first  of  the  Apostles.    In 
1 521  war  broke  out  between  Francis  I  and  Charles  V.    Loyola 
had  risen  to  the  rank  of  captain  and  it  fell  to  him  to  defend 
the  stronghold  of  Pampeluna.    In  the  siege  his  leg  was  broken. 
Admiring  the  courage  he  had  displayed,  his  French  captors  sent 
him  to  the  castle,  not  far  away,  in  which  he  was  bom.    Owing 
to  unskilful  surgical  treatment  he  was  confined  to  his  bed  for 
an  unusually  long  time  and  his  recovery  was  never  complete. 
All  through  his  subsequent  life  he  walked  with  a  slight  lameness. 
In  order  to  relieve  the  tedium  of  his  convalescence  he  spent 
much  of  his  time  in  reading.    He  had  known  and  loved  the 
medieval  romances  of  knight-errantry,  especially  the  Amadis  of 
Gaul.    He  wished  to  read  them  again,  but  instead  there  were 
given  to  him  the  lives  of  some  of  the  saints  and  also  a  life  of 
Christ  written  by  a  Carthusian  monk  and  deeply  influenced  by 

413 


414  THE  CATHOLIC  REFORMATION 


The  Imitation  of  Christ.  In  these  books,  teeming  with 
apocryphal  miracles,  he  read  of  deeds  of  prowess  even  more 
1491-1620  marvelous  than  the  fabulous  ones  of  Roland  and  Amadis,  done 
in  the  service  of  a  far  greater  king  than  Charlemagne.  His 
passionate  nature  and  imaginative  mind,  all  the  more  sensitive 
to  impressions  because  of  his  sufferings,  were  excited  and  in- 
flamed by  these  stories  of  another  and  a  greater  chivalry.  His 
shattered  kr  hp^  r^^At^rt^^  impncciKtA  the  con^inn^"^**  ^^  ^«^ 
career  as  a  soldier  of  the  king.  w>'y  T1*^^  >^**gt't^  ^"nthrr  lig  i 
soldier  of  Christ?  Chivalry  had  always  been  closely  interwoven 
^th  religion  in  Spain.  They  had  been  associated  in  the  life  of 
the  young  soldier.  They  were  now  to  become  merged  in  the  life 
of  the  saint.  Under  normal  conditions  the  transition  would 
have  by  no  means  been  abrupt.  It  was  made  less  so  by  the 
morbid  condition  of  the  wounded  warrior.  Excluded  from  his 
former  career  he  looked  forward  eagerly  to  becoming  a  knight- 
errant  of  the  Church,  the  Spouse  of  Christ.  Visions  confirmed 
him  in  his  resolution.  Enthusiasm,  that  was  alternately  invig- 
orating and  depressing,  produced  mental  phantasmagoria  that 
seemed  to  him  real  presences. 

One  of  Loyola's  ideas,  after  he  was  able  to  be  about,  was  to 
enter  a  Carthusian  convent.  But  he  wished  to  make  a  pflgrim- 
age  to  Jerusalem  before  adopting  the  monastic  life.  On  his  way 
he  stopped  at  Montserrat,  a  place  of  pilgrimage  about  thirty 
miles  northwest  of  Barcelona,  where  in  the  church,  after  hang- 
ing his  baldric,  dagger,  and  sword  before  the  miraculous  image 
of  the  Virgin,  he  kept  his  spiritual  vigil-in-arms,  somewhat  dif- 
ferent in  form  from  the  vigil  of  chivalry  but  definitely  suggested 
by  the  story  of  Amadis.  From  there  he  went  to  Manresa,  a  few 
LoyoU's  miles  away,  where  he  stayed  for  ten  months.  He  inflicted  upon 
puiAi  himself  the  severest  penances.    Thrice  each  day  he  scourged 

himself ;  at  midnight  he  rose  to  prayer ;  each  day  he  spent  seven 
consecutive  hours  on  his  knees;  and  oftentimes  he  fasted  to  the 
verge  of  starvation.  Altematdy  he  passed  from  passionate 
transports  of  piety  to  the  terrible  depths  of  despair.  Visions 
came  to  his  disordered  brain.  Luminous  in  the  midst  of  light, 
with  her  child  clasped  to  her  bosom,  there  appeared  to  him  Mary, 
the  Mother  of  God.  The  apparition  brought  consolation.  His 
excessive  austerities  did  not  cease  at  once,  but  gradually  they 
were  abandoned.  A  deep  peace  descended  upon  him.  Then 
he  realized  that  if  he  hoped  to  influence  the  lives  of  men  it 
would  be  necessary  for  him  to  acquire  learning.  So  he  took 
up  the  study  of  grammar;  and  he  began  the  first  compilation 
of  his  Spiritual  Exercises,    The  dreams  and  hallucinations  born 


US048 


THE  RISE  OF  THE  JESUITS  415 

of  a  delirious  mind  passed  away  and  became  only  dearly  cher- 
ished memories.  He  mingled  with  his  fellow-men  again  and 
displayed  the  dignified  bearing,  the  sagacious  mind,  the  pene- 
trating insight  and  the  indomitable  will  that  were  to  be  among 
his  most  essential  characteristics  during  the  remainder  of  his 

life.  He  conceived  the  nlan  ni  fnimHing  an  nrpniratint^,  a 
comnany  of  traveling  missiogfln^^    cntT^^fU^tij  i;i^#>  tVi#>  m^ljf^l-y 

r^I^^rg  ^h^t  ^^^   <^pjgrinatpH   jp    PllfTTtl^^ty  ^"t  OnC  that  WaS  tO  USC 

the  subtler  arms  of  disputation,  of  which  Jerusalem  was  to  be 
the  headquarters  and  the  Mohammedan  countries  the  field  of 
operation.    The  plan  was  only  partially  detailed  in  his  mind, 
a  bright  but  "shapeless  vision,"  when  after  innumerable  hard- 
ships he  arrived  at  Jerusalem.    To  the  officer  in  charge  of  the 
Franciscans  the  worn  but  unwearied  pilgrim  unfolded  his  vague 
scheme.    The  friar  was  well  aware  of  the  inexpediency  of  the 
proposed  propaganda.    He  knew  that  it  would  involve  in  dan- 
ger all  the  Christians  in  the  Holy  Land.     So  he  commanded  him 
to  depart.    After  another  difficult  and  perilous  journey  Loyola 
arrived  in  Spain.    He  was  still  undetermined  as  to  what  should 
t)e  his  next  work  in  life.    One  thing,  however,  was  now  certain, 
rhe  foreign  missionary  work  of  the  new  organization  that  he 
x>ntemplated  could  form  only  a  part  of  its  activities.     So  grad- 
ually there  grew  up  side  by  side  with  the  idea  of  converting 
the  infidels  the  plan  of  missionary  work  in  Fiirnp<>  fnr  tVip  rnn- 
yersion  of  the  heretics.^  Loyola  was  now  about  thirty  years  of 
igc-     Spanish  was  tne  only  language  that  he  knew,  strat^y 
md  tactics  constituted  the  only  science  he  had  studied,  and  the 
fabulous  narratives  of  knight-errantry  and  the  equally  mythical 
egends  of  the  medieval  saints  made  up  the  only  literature  with 
vhich  he  was  familiar.     Clearly  it  was  necessary  for  the  self- 
ippointed  captain  of  the  Catholic  Reformation  to  fit  himself  by 
further  study  for  the  great  work  he  had  planned.     It  was  a 
lifficult  matter,  however,  for  him  to  acquire  a  knowledge  of 
l^tin.     His  scholastic  preparation  was  exceedingly  meager,  and 
lis  habit  of  communing  with  himself  was  distracting.     But  he 
>^;an  his  studies  in  earnest.    At  Barcelona  he  found  in  Arde- 
Milo  a  teacher  who  gave  him  free  instruction.     Then  he  went 
o  gtudy  at  the  University  of  Alcala.     Several  times  he  was  sus- 
ed  of  heresy  and  imprisoned  and  at  last  he  was  ordered  to 
lesisi  from  speaking  in  public  in  the  diocese  of  Avila  until  he 
hould  have  completed  his  four  years  of  theology  and  philosophy. 

Ic  left  the  bishopric  and  went  to  the  TTniy^rsitv  nf  Salamanr,^ 

yhere  he  hoped  to  be  less  distracted   from  his  studies.    But 
imilar  troubles  and  obstacles  awaited  him  there.    Again  he 


4i6 


THE  CATHOLIC  REFORMATION 


OBAP. 


1020-88 


SplxitiiBl 


was  forbidden  to  speak  on  religious  subjects  until  bis  four  yean 
of  study  were  actually  finished.  Because  of  this,  and  because 
his  studies  in  the  two  Spanish  universities  had  been  altogether 
unsatisfactory,  he  decided  ^n  y ^  tn  ^p  TTnirtrrity  ^f  PniJIi 

Before  we  follow  Ignatius  to  the  French  capital  we  must 
stop  to  learn  something  of  his  remarkable  little  book.  The  Spk- 
itual  Exercises.  During  his  period  of  convalescence  in  the  cas- 
tle of  Loyola  contradictory  dreams  of  temporal  glory  and  re- 
ligious duty  alternately  supplanted  each  other  in  his  mind.  He 
was  often  left  in  doubt  as  to  which  course  he  should  pursue. 
Then  he  noted  how  each  idea  arose  and  how  it  ended.  He 
noted  that  the  idea  of  a  religious  life  fortified  his  faith,  consoled 
him  and  left  him  happy.  He  noted,  on  the  other  hand,  that  the 
idea  of  a  secular  career,  pleasant  during  the  time  he  entertained 
it,  left  him  dissatisfied  and  disconsolate.  So  by  the  effect 
which  they  produced  he  deemed  himself  able  to  determine 
what  came  to  him  from  a  good  source  and  what  came 
from  a  bad  source.  Although  Loyola  arrived  at  this  distinction 
himself  the  theory  was  not  new.  It  is  clearly  enunciated  ia 
the  writings  of  St.  Catherine  of  Siena,  and  it  was  well  known 
to  the  Spanish  mystics.  Spanish  mysticism,  which  was  derived 
very  largely  from  the  East,  demanded  a  complete  abnegation  of 
the  will  that  was  to  be  obtained  by  a  r^;ular  mental  discipline. 
It  had  as  a  special  feature  the  "  drill  sergeant  *'  who,  following 
certain  prescribed  rules,  was  the  director  of  the  conscience. 
Those  who  sought  peace  among  the  distractions  of  a  worldly 
life  were  to  resign  themselves  unreservedly  into  his  hands. 
Their  inclinations  and  affections  were  to  be  revealed  to  him. 
He  distinguished  for  them  between  the  desirable  and  the  unde- 
sirable and  directed  them  in  the  art  of  the  mortification  of  the 
individual  will.  Juan  Valdes  was  one  of  the  most  important 
of  these  expert  guides  of  souls.  This  work  of  the  mystic  "  drill 
sergeant "  was  carried  on,  with  a  more  penetrating  insight,  a 
subtler  psychological  calculation,  and  a  different  aim,  by  Loyola. 
His  military  training  as  well  as  his  personal  qualifications  enabled 
him  to  do  this.  The  theory  of  the  discernment  of  spirits,  of 
observing  whether  a  given  idea  is  persistently  followed  by  spir- 
itual peace  or  by  spiritual  restlessness  and  of  then  using  the 
affective  states  of  the  soul  as  a  guide,  and  the  process  of  con- 
trolling the  individual  will,  were  embodied  in  a  book.  The  plan 
of  the  book  was  sketched  at  Manresa,  but  for  a  quarter  of  a 
century,  probably  without  modifying  the  general  outlines  to  any 
appreciable  extent,  the  author  continually  retouched  it  until  in 
1548  it  was  published  with  the  papal  approbation.    The  Exer- 


THE  RISE  OF  THE  JESUITS  417 


cues  are  a  strict  method  that  are  to  enable  the  indii 

ok  me  tneory  nl  rlUri>mfn#>n»  t^  pjf^^rtain  the  will  of 

hy  meanft  nf  jsperial   <>ir<>rrigi>g  ir^   fit   himc^lf  tr.   rarry 


iMO-as 


Ottt  that  will.  This  is  the  description  the  author  himself  gives 
of  tbem:  '"As  walking,  marching,  and  running  are  bodily  exer- 
cises, so  spiritual  exercises  consist  of  the  different  ways  of  pre- 
paring the  soul  to  rid  it  of  all  unruly  affections  and  when  it  is 
quit  of  them  to  seek  and  find  the  will  of  God,  to  notice  what 
arouses  a  spirit  of  devotion  and  what  chills  it,  in  the  ordering 
of  one's  life  with  a  view  to  salvation."  In  following  the  course 
laid  down  by  the  Exercises  four  periods  of  time  that  vary 
according  to  the  character  and  needs  of  the  individual  are  ob- 
served. The  first  period  is  one  of  preparation,  of  the  examina- 
tion of  conscience,  of  confession  and  penance.  The  second  and 
third  periods  are  devoted  to  meditation  upon  the  life  and  death 
of  Christ.  The  fourth  is  given  over  to  restful  and  loving  con- 
templation. Loyola  was  instinctively  a  soldier.  In  his  book, 
in  which  even  the  postures  and  the  attitudes  that  are  to  be  main- 
tained during  prayer  are  prescribed,  one  sees  everywhere  the 
spirit  of  the  Spanish  captain;  in  the  technique  for  the  exact 
r^;ulation,  the  systematic  schooling,  of  the  individual;  in  the 
punctual  noting  of  every  emotion;  and  in  the  absolute  submis- 
sion to  the  drill  sergeant.  Through  these  exercises  the  individ- 
ual is  enabled  to  renounce  lllii  paiLlmUi  hiLliiiAliuiis  and  lliagS 
r&fly  tU  UUliy  out  wilh  passionless  enercrv  that  implicit  obedi- 
ence tnat  IS  reqmreg  01  all  members  ^^  fb^  cnnV^y 

In  Spam  and  in  iialy  Loyoia  had  been  far  removed  from  the 
principal  scenes  of  religious  revolt.    In  Paris,  where  he  arrived  iioyou'i 
in  February,  1528,  having  walked  all  the  way  from  Salamanca,  ^JtS^** 
he  was  much  nearer  to  them.    In  the  seven  years  that  he  spent  »ndtiie 

Va^  on 

there  many  heretics,  including  the  noble  Louis  de  Berquin,  were  Mont- 
burned  at  the  stake  in  the  capital  and  the  provinces  of  France.  a*rt" 
The  spread  of  heresy  and  the  need  of  well-considered  efforts  to 
prevent  it  made  a  deeper  impression  upon  him  than  ever.  There 
were  some  twelve  or  fifteen  thousand  students  at  Paris,  and  many 
of  them  were  devoted  to  license  quite  as  much  as  to  literature. 
They  were  grouped  into  several  "  nations  " ;  and  with  the  "  na- 
tion of  France,"  which  included,  along  with  French  students, 
those  who  came  from  Spain,  Savoy,  and  Italy,  Loyola  was 
associated.  For  a  year  and  a  half  he  studied  Latin;  and  then 
for  almost  four  years  he  devoted  himself  to  philosophy;  after 
that  the  remainder  of  his  stay  was  given  up  to  theology.  He 
was  then  free  to  turn  his  attention  to  his  long-cherished  design. 
In  the  ^nation"  to  which  he  belonged  he  had  found  several 


4i8  THE  CATHOLIC  REFORMATION 


companions  whose  spiritual  leader  he  had  come  to  be.  In  Spain 
he  had  had  a  number  of  followers,  and  he  had  soon  acquired 
**••■•*  others  in  Paris.  Of  those  who  afterwards  became  members  of 
his  society  there  were  at  first  six  —  Peter  Faber  (1506-45),  a 
Savoyard  shepherd  who  had  become  a  priest  and  who  lived  in 
the  closest  intimacy  with  Loyola;  Francis  Xavier  (149S-1552), 
a  talented,  proud  and  handsome  Navarrese  from  Pampeluna,  a 
Basque  by  descent,  won  over  to  the  new  company  only  with 
difficulty;  James  Lainez  (1512-65),  a  Castilian  of  Jewish  de- 
scent who  had  come  from  Alcala  to  Paris  on  purpose  to  meet 
the  new  leader;  Alfonso  Salmeron  (1515-85)1  a  mere  boy  who 
had  accompanied  Lainez  from  Spain;  Simon  Rodriguez  (?- 
1579),  a  Portuguese  of  noble  birth,  interested  in  philosophy  and 
inclined  to  the  life  of  a  recluse,  who  was  a  pensioner  of  his  king 
at  the  French  university;  and  Nicholas  Bobadilla  (1511-90), 
another  Spaniard.  All  of  them,  with  the  exception  of  Xavier, 
had  made  the  spiritual  exercises.  Almost  every  day  they  met 
in  the  room  of  one  or  the  other,  and  frequently  they  took  their 
meals  together.  They  were  united  by  a  common  devotion  to  the 
ideas  and  the  plans  of  their  leader,  more  or  less  indefinite  as 
yet,  but  in  which  the  conversion  of  the  S^ar^irena  still  figured. 
On  August  m^  I  «^;^i^Tthe  least  ot  the  Assumption  ofthe  Blessed 


Vjrrin.  the  little  group,  enamored  of  the  le^yends  nf  tVi^  pla^, 
proceeded  to  the  chapel  of  St,  Denis  in  the  church  of  St.  Mary 
(destroyed  in  17Q0)  half  way  up  Montmartre.  then  about  a  mile 
away  from  the  city,  there,  in  the  Him  aT^(1  gnipt  rrypt.  to  f!onse- 
crate  themselves  to  the  service  of  the  Churcl]^  Peter  Faber  said 
"mass,  and  while  he  held  aloft  the  Host  all  pronounced  their 
vows.  Perhaps  not  one  of  them  realized  how  far-reaching  were 
to  be  the  results  of  those  solemn  words.  The  little  band  was 
afterwards  joined  by  Qaude  le  Jay  (i5oo?-52),  another  Savo- 
yard; John  Codure  (1508-41),  a  Provengal;  and  Paschase 
Brouet  (i5oo?-63),  from  Picardy.  In  the  two  following  years 
the  devotees,  augmented  by  these  new  recruits,  renewed  their 
consecration.  With  the  last  renewal  of  their  vows  the  time  had 
come  to  leave  Paris  and  all  its  memories  of  their  student  days. 
First  to  depart,  sometime  in  advance  of  his  followers,  was  Loyola 
who  went  to  Spain  there  to  seek  rest  for  a  time.  He  was  to 
meet  the  others  in  Venice,  the  gateway  of  the  East. 
^  .--^"Coyola  arrived  at  the  Adriatic  seaport  almost  a  year  before 
his  companions.  There  he  made  the  acquaintance  of  Cardinal 
Caraffa,  afterwards  pope  Paul  IV,  and  his  Theatines.  At  last, 
on  January  6,  1537,  he  was  joined  by  his  companions.  The 
little  company  waited  at  Venice  until  Lent  before  going  to  Rome 


THE  RISE  OF  THE  JESUITS  419 


obtain  the  papal  permission  to  proceed  to  Jerusalem.    The 

rvening  months  were  spent  in  ministering  to  the  sick  and 

iy.    Then  they  made  their  way  to  Rome,  but  without  their    *•••■*• 

[er,  who  stayed  at  Venice  because  of  the  fear  that  personal  Th» 

nies  at  Rome,  among  them  Caraffa,  might  prejudice  the  Pope  J^Sf*** 

inst  his  companions.    After  some  inquiries  Paul  III  received  Vtw 

n  kindly,  consented  to  their  going  to  Jerusalem,  gave  tlipm^^^^^^ 

ley,  and  granted  permission  to  those  of  them  who  were  not*%|bM  cyodgi 

sts  to  be  ordained.    After  their  return  to  Venice,  Loyola^^"^  ••  •••' 

the  others  who  had  not  already  received  Holy  Orders  en- 
d  the  priesthood.  War  hindered  their  going  to  Jerusalem, 
n  the  interval  of  waiting  they  engaged  in  charitable  activity 

in  preaching  in  the  Venetian  territory.  Then,  by  separate 
Is,  they  again  made  their  way  to  Rome  where,  in  the  spring 
1538,  they  were  all  gathered  together.  They  began  to  turn 
r  thoughts  away  from  Jerusalem.  There  was  much  work 
)€  done  in  Europe.  They  began  to  think  of  a  permanent 
mization.    In  the  evenings  they  met  together  and  exchanged 

discussed  their  ideas  of  their  future  work.    It  was  decided 
[S30toestablish  a  new  organization,  the  Society 
virhich  one  ot  their  HUniB^f  wis  to  be  chosen  as  the  head. 
y  had  already  taken  the  vows  of  poverty  and  chastity.    They 
'  took  the  third  vow  of  obedience.    The  title  "  Societas " 

chosen  as  being  the  nearest  approach  to  the  Spanish  word 
Knpaiiia,"  the  military  term  for  a  body  of  fighting  men  under 
direct  command  of  a  captain;  the  best  name  for  a  company 
men  who  were  tp  be  soldiers,  ever  armed  and  ever  ready. 
Fesus  Chf^     The  snn'gfy  wa*;  tn  fy*  a  flying  r^^'\   t^rt  ""'*'* 

le  ready  at  all  times  and  in  all  places  to  support  the  main 
y  of  the  Church.  In  September,  1540,  the  Pope  issued  the 
Reaimini  MUitantis  ecclesuB  which  gave  sanction  to  the 
order,  but  which,  with  certain  other  restrictions,  limited 
members,  provisionally,  to  sixty.  Finally  in  1543  the  re- 
rtions  were  removed  by  the  Hull-  Tnjunrtuwt  nnf^  and  the 
iety  of  Jesus  was  then  absolutely  and  unconditionally  au- 
"ized  to  exist  under  its  own  constitutions.  The  new  order 
\mt  known  as  the  *'  Jesuits,"  but  it  should  be  observed  that 
name,  coined  by  Calvin,  who  certainly  was  no  friend  of  the 


ety,  was  Qf^pnally  applied  in  contempt.  In  April,  I54it 
ff^a  was  (^tiftf^f"  ^^  Tir  ^^"*  fir*^^  g^'TTf^'  OT  ^^f^  J^cnitc  Tem- 
iry  regulations  governed  the  society  for  a  time.  The  ^«>^" 
UP  of  the  constitutions  was  a  gradual  process  that  occupied 
ola  until  his  death.  Not  until  two  vears  after  that  event; 
e  thev  finally  adopted  by  the  first  congregation  of  the  So* 


420 


THE  CATHOLIC  REFORMATION 


CRBA^. 


1586-48 


«ftlM 


ciefaL.    Since  then  they  have  never  been  altered.    What  are  tbe 
main  provisions  of  the  constitutions? 

In  order  to  be  elipble  for  membership  a  candidate  tnusL 
been  bom  in  wedloci^.  and,  preferal 
He  must  not  have  worn  the  habit 


son. 


another 


or  a  day,  nor  have  held  any  ficrtflluul  dOttnne..    He  must  be 


\lflttl4meq  and  free  fro^  apy  gnrt  nf  nhlip^tiQtv  He  must 
not  be  deformed,  or  be  weak  in  bodv  or  mind,  and  must  be 
without  deficiency  pf  tptnp^f  or  character^  Finally  he  must  not 
[ess  than  fourteen  nor  more  than  fifty  years  of  age,^  Young 
men  ot  tne  governing  class  were  especially  desired  by  Loyola, 
for  he  realized  that  those  who  had  been  successful  in  ^e  affairs 
of  secular  authority  would  very  likely  be  successful  in  the  work 
of  winning  back  to  the  cause  of  the  Church  the  temporal  rulers 
and  powers  whose  conversion  was  a  prime  object  of  the  society. 
He  desired  candidates  who  were  *'less  marked  by  pure  pood- 
ness  than  by  firmness  of  character  and  ability  m  tne  conduct 
of  affairs.''^  Ifie  canQidates  ior  membership  must  ail  pass 
through  a  state  of  probation,  a  novitiate,  in  which  it  is  to  be 
determined  whether  the  applicant  shall  oe  admitted  to  the  so- 
ciety and,  if  so,  to  what  grade  in  the  society  he  shall  be  assigned. 
The  nnvj^jate  opens  with  a  month's  retirement  from  the  world, 
in  wfeTch  the  novice  goes  through  the  spiritual  exercises,  and 
continues  for  two  years,  in  each  of  which  he  repeats  the  exer- 
cises. If  at  that  time  the  candidate  is  approved  it  is  then  de- 
termined, if  a  decision  has  not  already  been  reached,  in  which 
of  the  two  lines  of  service  he  is  to  be  placed,  the  secular  or  the 
spiritual.  The  members  of  the  society  who  are  engaged  in  the 
secular  service  are  called  ^^^  muAjutnr^  They  take  the  sim- 
ple vows  of  chastity,  poverty,  and  obedience.  To  them  is  en- 
trusted the  adminjjjitration  of  the  property  of  the  s<v;^^fy^  the 
superintendency  of  buildipf[gi  tt^^  f^ictriHiifir^n  nf  aitng^^^d  <^uch 

menial   cjutlpg   ag   rnrvl^JTIC  nnfl    ^a<g^^"g  ^nH    grarHpm'ng^   If    it   is 

into  this  branch  of  the  service  the  candidate  is  to  be  placed  he 
is  now  ready  for  assignment.  But  if  it  is  decided  that  he  is 
to  become  a  spiri^ti^l  rnif^i"^or  ^^  ^^  classified  as  a  ''  scholastic  " 
and  requiredTto  enter  upon  a  further  stage  of  probation,  which 
lasts  as  a  rule  from  two  to  ^^tgffl  XSUS  ^^  «stii<ii<H8  lanprnaprPQ^ 
science,  pmiosc^hy,  and  tneoiogy.  T>ifn  >ip  iq  or^^^pied  as  a. 
teacher.  After  that  he  is  readv  to  become  a  spiritual  coadfutor. 
the  rank  from  which  the  preachers,  the  contessors,  ttie. 
"atid  the  missionanffi  p^  ^^"^  ''Oflfty  are  di'^WTl.  I'Kse  unusually 
protracted  periods  of  probation  are  devised  witii  exceeding  skill 
to  make  the  future  Jesuit  a  pliant  and  capable  instrument  that 


THE  RISE  OF  THE  JESUITS  421 


of  llM 

BoeUly 


shall  be  instantaneously  ready  to  carry  out  the  commands  of 
his  superior. 

The  members  of  the  Society  of  Jesus  are  divided  into  an     ^^^^^^ 
intricate  series  of  grades  or  classes.    For  our  present  purpose  n* 
it  ma^  be  sufficient  to  call  attention  to  the  four  principal  divi- 

sioos  —  the  two  probationers  classes  of  (jXjl22iS88.^dLi2) 
scholastics,  (3)  ^  prnfpjL«teH  ^f  the  three  vow^  and  (a^  t^ 
protesseSTof  the  four  vows.  With  tbe  novices  we  nave  already 
dealt.  It  IS  m  tnis  group  that  we  have  left  the  lay  coadjutors, 
even  those  who  have  risen  to  posts  of  great  importance.  Only 
the  scholastics,  who  are  spiritual  coadjutors,  are  included  in  the 
ranks  of  the  professed.  The  pj-nfpRSPYj  ^f  three  vows  are  mem- 
bers of  the  society  who  have  taken  the  three  perpetual  vows  of 
pbver^,  chastity,  ana  oDeaience.  ine  protessed  of  the  three 
vows  nave  ail  tne  di^lcy  Of  the  true  professed,  those  of  the 
four  vows,  without  being  eligible  for  the  highest  offices  of  the 
society. 

The  ptir^fcfgM  of  the  four  vows,  an  inner  and  a  privil^ed 
body,  constitute  the  core  of  the  society.    The  fourth  vow  is  one  timpto- 


of  special  obedience  10  ihe  pope  10  undertake  any  missionaiy  n^ePour 
i>eiVlC6,  at  nome  or  aoroaa,  VHSlI  M  fnay  require.  All  four  vows  vowi 
are  taken  in  the  "  solemn  "  form.  The  true  professed  vows  to 
hold  himself  ready  to  set  forth  at  a  moment's  notice  tmder  any 
circumstances  and  against  his  own  judgment,  if  it  shall  be  re- 
quired of  him,  upon  any  mission  that  he  might  be  required  to 
carry  out.  In  practice  the  fourth  vow  is  really  a  special  vow 
of  obedience  to  the  general  of  the  society,  for  onlv  the  gen^[|^ 
can  despatch  or  recall  a  Jesuit  missionary.  When  diflFerences 
""Between  the  rapacy  ftttfl  lti€  general  otthe  society  arose,  as 
they  did,  it  proved  to  be  the  case  that  the  allegiance  of  the  true 
professed  was  to  his  general  rather  than  to  the  pope.  The  rela- 
tion of  the  general  to  the  pope  was  by  no  means  that  of  a  military 
commander  to  an  absolute  sovereign;  but  rather  it  was  that  of 
a  great  feudal  vassal  to  his  seigneur.  From  its  inception  the 
society  declined  to  obey  the  wishes  of  the  pope  when  in  im- 
portant matters  the  papal  desires  diverged  from  those  of  the 
general.  Only  those  whose  qualifications  and  attainments  reach 
a  certain  standard  are  admitted  to  the  rank  of  the  true  pro- 
fessed.   Their  vows  are  taken,  in  the  most  solemn  manner,  ^fter 


at  least  thirty-one  years  of  preparatipn:  and  they  cannot  be 

^"""11H  ^*^^  *^y  ^np  fyperal  himself.    Should  it  be  deemed 

'desirable  to  dismiss  one  of  the  true  professed  from  the  society 

it  can  be  done  only  with  the  sanction  of  the  pope,  and  he  must 

always  be  received  back  if  he  is  willing  to  accept  the  conditions 


422 


THE  CATHOUC  REFORMATION 


1685-48 


Tk«  Pro- 
vincials 


TheGen- 
•nland 
hii    Am- 


^^•' 


that  may  be  imposed.  It  is  from  this  group  that  the  highest 
officials,  the  general  and  his  assistants,  and  die  provincials^  are 
chosen. 

For  the  purposes  of  government  the  new  society  established 
a  number  of  provinces,  which  have  been  increased  from  time 
to  time  until  now  there  are  twenty-syen.  At  tl]^  ht^A  ^f  girh 
of  them  is  a  provincial.  Every  provincial,  appointed  by  the 
general,  is  provided  with  a  companion,  or  admonisher,  and  also 
with  four  consultors,  and  these  attendants  are  likewise  appointed 
by  the  general.  Thnnlly  tlii  iiiiiiiiii  iiil  i  liyld  rrffirr  •^^f  ttnt 
years^ 

riighest  of  all  the  officials  is  the  general,  chosen  for  life,  in 

nrder  to  en^sure  the  fftntin"''*^'""r  nf  fthM^fjU^^^j^  from  the  body  of 

tKeHtrue  professed,  bv  the  convoked  represe*"*'^itiYri  "^f  thr  tn- 
ciety  (the  general  congregation  1  and  entrusted  with  its  supreme 
guidance.  Withm  the  scope  ot  the  constitutions  his  power  is 
unlimited,  and,  although  he  cannot  change  the  constitutions,  he 
can  for  certain  grave  causes  suspend  them.  It  was  thought  de- 
sirable that  the  general  should  be  subjected  to  supervision  in 
order  to  prevent  any  diversion  of  his  wide-sweeping  powers  to 
the  ends  of  personal  ambition  or  to  ideas  not  in  accordance  with 
the  spirit  of  the  society.  So  a  system  of  checks  and  counter- 
checks was  devised.  The  general  is  supplied  by  the  conp-ega-  _ 
tion  with  assistants,  five  m  number  at  tne  present  tmie^  who  rep- 
reseni  ij^  itaiv.  i2\  France.  Tj)  ^pai>  onH  ntli#>r  />r!iinfrn-f|<|  ni^ 

gnish    origin,     (4)    Gennat^y/   A-rrgtria-]^i^i^grafJN    PnlanH^    RpU 

gimn  kfldHuHai'ld.  anJ"^^  ^hf  English^sppayinp  countries. 
ley  are  hiS  constant  attendants  and  in  their  appointment  he 
has  no  voice.  A  sp^t^^al  rnnfpggnr  iQ  ^]<^^  grjven  hi^j  and  he  is 
further  giipp]jfH  «m>Vi  o  mr.nj|p||-  y|^^  conveys  f^  hjfn  ^"y  ^^^' 
icism  or  stricture  that  the  assistants  may  Judge  advisable  to 
liiake  upuii  the  |3BfUiuiaiiLe  uf  his  duties^  inus  tne  general, 
tliough  endowed  with  absolute  power  in  all  things  relating  to 
the  administration  of  the  society,  is  yet  associated  with  com- 
panions, whom  he  did  not  choose,  of  whom  he  is  powerless  to 
rid  himself,  and  who  like  veritable  shadows  are  forever  at  his 
side.  The  Ef"^^a]  ?°  gtrirtlj  rtqnir'"^  ^^  fpci'HA  r^^\y  at  •Rnmp. 
He  may  not  abdicate  ,his  office  without  the  approval  of 
congregation,  and  he  is  subject  to  suspension  and  deposition. 
Yet  so  careful  and  long  has  been  the  probation  any  one  elected 
to  the  generalship  has  undergone  that  it  is  altogether  unlikely 
he  will  adopt  a  policy  contrary  to  the  spirit  of  the  society.  So 
in  actual  practice  the  elaborate  system  of  limitations  leaves  the 
general  still  an  autocrat. 


THE  RISE  OF  THE  JESUITS  423 


The  g^Tioraj  fogyreppition  of  th^  society  fQnci'cfc  /^f  fVi^  g^n- 
iral,  when  alive,  his  assistants,  the  provincials^  and  twn  ntt^er 
pembers  from  each  province,  ^'^^^t^^d  by  the  superiors  and  nIHer 
>j-pf »ccA#l  nrKmi|^#>r<^^  Tn  \f  ic  v^<^fy/^  the  chief  authority  of  the  TteOtn- 
Soriiyty-  It  ^ects  the  general,  and,  for  certain  important  rea- 
;ons,  it  is  onpowered  toTfepose  him.  To  it  also  belongs  the 
wwerT^ever  yei  eyemc|ed.  nf  ^<3^v7g  p<*w  prr^yif^^^s  to  Ihe 


1686-48 

teOtn- 

•nlOonp 


ions  and  of  abrogating  old  ones.  The  congregation  is 
;eldom  summoned  except  for  the  purpose  of  electing  a  new  gen- 
eral, and  then  it  is  assembled  by  the  vicar  appointed  by  the  dying 
jeneral  imtil  his  successor  shall  have  been  elected. 

To  sketch  the  framework  of  the  Society  of  Jesus  is  a  much 
easier  matter  than  to  gain  and  convey  a  just  notion  of  its  ideal  TheXdMl 
ind   its. guiding  principle.     It   was   the   dream   of   Loyola   to  c^l^w 
>rganize  a  thoroughly  disciplined  and  mobilized  body  of  men  Prineipto 
;hat  should  be  ever  ready  to  move  at  the  word  of  command,  ordn 
:hat  should  move  quickly  and  effectively  against  the  foes  of  the 

:hc  life  contemplative.  Especially  did  the  exigencies  of  the  age, 
:he  necessity  01  preventing  the  further  encroachment  of  heresy 
md  of  recovering  the  ground  that  had  been  lost  to  the  Church, 
nake  an  active  life  preferable  to  one  spent  in  the  seclusion  of 
rhe  cloisters.  He  saw  that  asceticism  is  a  bad  preparation  for 
m  active  life  in  as  much  as  it  consumes  more  force  than  it 
supplies  and  lessens  the  flexibility  and  versatility  that  he  de- 
nanded  from  his  followers.  Every  article  in  the  constitutions 
that  he  drew  up  is  directed  with  incomparable  logical  sequence 
to  a.  life  of  practical  activity.  The  members  of  the  society, 
then,  were  to  find  their  work  not  in  the  solitude  of  the  convent 
ircll  but  out  in  the  world  of  men.  They  were  to  make  fh^"^<^^^^^ff 
ajj  ftt;r»ge  fr|  ^11  i[\^p^  To  be  all  things  to  all  men  in  order  to 
win  them  over,  the  principle  of  the  Apostle  Paul,  was  adopted 
by  the  Jesuits  as  the  guiding  principle  of  their  organization  and 
its  activity.  They  were  to  deal  cautiously  with  the  world  and 
nrcumspectly  with  its  predilections  and  prejudices.  "  Let  the 
entrance  be  what  it  mav,*'  said  Loynla-  "  the  exit  must  alwavs  be 
3urs^^^  Absolute  and  unquestioning  obedience  was  exacted  of 
every  member  of  the  society.  "  He  who  wishes  to  give  himself 
up  entirely  to  God,"  said  Loyola,  "  must  of  necessity  deliver  up 
not  only  his  will  but  also  his  intellect,  in  such  wise  that  he  has 
but  one  and  the  same  mind  with  his  superior  as  he  has  but  one 
and  the  same  will."  His  followers  contend  that  this  unquestion- 
ing obedience  is  required  of  the  Jesuit  only  in  all  matters  wherein 
tx>  sin  appears. 


424 


THE  CATHOLIC  REFORMATION 


iMo-ieoo 

itSM 


The  Jeia- 
itiu 

Oonfeuors 


Like  all  such  organizations  the  Society  of  Jesus  did  not  spriif 
fully  formed  from  the  brain  of  its  founder  but  was  the  result  of 
tentative  theories  and  gradual  growth.  Ten  years  went  by  firai 
the  time  of  its  formal  establishment  before  the  text  of  the  con- 
stitutions was  submitted  to  an  assembly  of  the  professed  mem- 
bers. In  its  first  years  Loyola's  associates,  in  weddy,  or  monddf, 
or  yearly  letters,  according  to  the  distance  of  the  writers  froo 
Rome,  reported  to  him  "  what  God  had  wrought  through  them"; 
and  it  was  through  his  own  letters  that  he  directed  the  vast 
organization  into  which  the  society  developed.  Excepted  from 
the  ascetic  practices  that  consume  so  much  time  and  tnergy,  the 
Jesuits  went  forth  into  every  land  as  preachers,  confessors, 
teachers,  and  missionaries.  Their  self-devotion  to  the  cause  of 
their  religion  was  unsurpassed ;  their  complete  absorption  in  the 
character  and  the  policies  of  the  corporation  to  which  they  be- 
longed was  unique.  Emancipating  the  Catholic  pulpits  from  die 
bondage  of  scholasticism,  they  Kg-amA  fli#>  pinct  p]^^^*^^**^  p^y^^},, 

ers  of  the  age,  and  of  ten-times  the  churches  were  too  small  to 
hoia  tne  mulhtudes  that  flocked  to  hear  them.  Sermons  were 
preached  and  masses  were  performed  without  fees.  Even  Ae 
customary  boxes  for  voluntary  offerings  were  removed  from 
the  vestibules  of  the  churches. 

Through  the  confessional  the  Jesuits  gained  an  enonnous  in- 
fluence. The  theory  and  practice  of  confession  were  fully  de- 
veloped before  the  founding  of  the  Society  of  Jesus.  But  the 
members  of  the  new  organization  were  quick  to  see  greater 
possibilities  and  opportunities  in  the  institution.  Very  early  they 
began  systematic  work  as  confessors,  and  through  it  they  won 
their  first  striking  successes.  Tfi^^  Hpalf  y^f^rWy  wit^  ^|ie  sins 
of  the  wnr\^   To  some  f)f  fht-  fai'tlifnl  ff^f;y  wpr<>  tbp  ^itliifi^CSL 

of  spiritual  directors,  while  to  others  they  were  most  indulgent 
Much  depended  upon  the  rharar;|er  ana  tne  circumstances  oT 
thp  pprii^ent.     Circumspection,  accommodation  of  themselves  witi 


consummate  skill  to  the  circumstances  of  the  particular  confes- 
sion, was  the  keynote  of  their  policy  in  the  administering  of 
the  penitential  sacrament.  Thus  thpy  "^afjf;  thpm«sp1vp<^  ^\^p^  mn<tt 
popular  confessors  of  the  time,  ISrned  the  secret  struggles  of 
the  souls  of  princes  as  well  as  paupers  and  gained  an  influence 
that  decided  many  a  public  as  well  as  many  a  private  question. 
Loyola  impressed  upon  the  Jesuit  confessors  the  need  of  leniency. 
pverv  man  was  ^^  br  °^*^t  ^way  from  the  confession;^]  in  Qtirh 
of  mind  that  he  would  be  certain  to  return  even  thouj 
^Ksoliitioq  V|^()  been  with^i^l^]  from  h^|p.  When  this  leniency 
became  a  matter  of  common  knowledge  it  met  with 


THE  RISE  OF  THE  JESUITS  4^5 

|:jWi  yf  tH^  ^^l-y  pi,e»^r^  Pofiir^itYc,  and  in  the  middle  of  the     q^- 

f  seventeenth   century   this   objection    found   indignant   voice   in      

^  Antoine  Amauld's  book  On  the  freqtiency  of  Holy  Commute  X54o.xwo 
km. 

With  the  same  sagacity  that  led  Loyola  to  discard  the  tmneces- 
sary  and  incumbering  monastic  habits  and  rules  of  the  older  TheJMn. 
tenders  the  Jesuits  devoted  themselves  to  the  work  of  education,  ^^g^^itn 
To  win  over  the  rising  generation  to  their  cause,  especially  to 
gain  the  sons  of  the  governing  classes,  was  one  of  their  aims 
most  intelligently  and  diligently  pursued,  uraauaiiy  they  de- 
veloped  a  carefully  considered  educational  system,  which  became 
effective  and  important  after  the  death  of  Loyola.  In  their 
schools,  which  were  divided  into  several  classes,  they  employed 
a  method  of  instruction  that  from  the  most  rudimentary  to  the 
highest  grades  was  essentially  the  same.    Strict  attention  was 

paid  to  tiie  tJQral   ni1tlir|>^  nf  thf  p1?p<1g  anH   fr^   ftiA  ityt^Ar^^f^fy   (yf 

correct  manners.  They  made  no  charge  for  their  tuition,  being 
aistmctly  toroidden  by  their  rules  to  do  so.  Their  text  books 
were  the  best  of  the  time  and  their  in«;tr^<^inn  rn^rt^r^^A  tViA  wVml^ 
range  of  secular  and  ecclesiastical  learning.  Very  soon,  by  the 
smi<^cai  location  ot  their  schools,  their  well-organized  plan  of 
instruction,  their  varied  curricula,  their  unsurpassed  manuals, 
and  above  all  by  their  indefatigable  activity,  their  incessant 
watchfulness,  and  their  unity  of  purpose,  they  made  themselves, 
in  the  generation  that  immediately  succeeded  the  Council  of 
Trent,  ipd?fpg"*^able  as  instructors  tft  ^hp  rj^fhnlir  YnarH  And 
their  schools  won  the  patronage  of  many  Protestan^  Even  so 
profound  a  thinker  as  Jf  rancis  Bacon  declared  them  to  be  the 
best  teachers  that  civilization  had  produced. 

The  activity  of  the  Jesuits  was  not  confined  to  Eujope.    They 

**  wvaHgil  all  fh^  |-niintriPQ  whiVfi  tli#>  grp>at  maHtJ^^  ^Jc»^qyH^'"  The  Jmo. 

of  the  preceding  age  had  laid  open  to  European  enterprise.  JJJ^j^J^ 
llicy  were  to  be  found  in  the  depths  of  the  Feruvian  mines,  at 
the  marts  of  African  slave-caravans,  on  the  shores  of  the  Spice 
Islands,  in  the  observatories  of  China.  They  made  converts  in 
r^ons  which  neither  avarice  nor  curiosity  had  tempted  any  of 
their  countrymen  to  enter ;  and  preached  and  disputed  in  tongues 
of  which  no  other  native  of  the  West  understood  a  word."    The 

their  religious  activity  among  the  heathen  was 

"t  ""yrjl  FrPP^^*^  Xavier   rannnizeri  nnf  nnlv  hv 

Catholicism,  but  by  every  sect  in  dmslendom.  Whether  we 
consider  the  daring  and  romantic  spirit  of  his  adventures,  the 
length  of  his  journeys,  or  the  reported  results  of  his  endeav- 
ors, there  is  no  other  missionary  cjuite  like  h^yp  i^  all  hist^gr. 


426  THE  CATHOLIC  REFORMATION 


^gy-     "  Philanthropy  was  his  passion,  reckless  daring  his  delight ;  and 

faith  glowing  in  meridian  splendor  the  sunsJ^e  in  whidi  he 

1540-ieoo  walked."  Like  a  meteor  he  sped  across  the  East,  passing  un- 
scathed through  innumerable  dangers  and  winning  everywhere, 
by  the  compelling  charm  of  his  personality,  the  hearts  of  the 
poor  and  the  outcast  with  whom  above  all  others  he  so  loved 
to  dwell.  His  "  conversions "  rapidly  reached  into  the  tens  of 
thousands;  but  before  long  he  became  convinced  of  the  use- 
lessness  of  attempting  to  win  the  Orientals  over  to  Christianity 
in  the  mass.  He  recognized  that  the  eastern  point  of  view,  the 
Oriental  cultures,  must  be  intimately  understood  and  that  then 
the  intellectual  and  spiritual  leaders  must  be  won  over  and  per- 
suaded voluntarily  to  relinquish  their  old  religion.  The  prob- 
lem was  conceived  correctly,  but  it  remained  unsolved.    The 

^hff  fTftf^^'ali  of  lifti  in  thmr  ^ar^*^  -  ^^  faiii*H  tn  seize  upon  the 
essence  of  the  eastern  culture  and  transmute  it  with  the  religion 
of  the  West.  Consequently  their  missionary  activity,  glorious  as 
some  of  its  details  undoubtedly  are,  was  eventually  almost  an  utter 
failure.  Very  soon  the  story  of  Xavier's  missionary  activity 
became  blurred  with  the  customary  legendary  accretion,  but  h^ 
above  it  all  there  rises  his  sweet  spirit  and  heroic  figure;  and  to 
him  and  to  his  work  his  Church  was  able  to  point  with  pride  as 
a  striking  proof  of  her  living  strength  in  the  midst  of  the  Euro- 
pean apostasy. 

Among  the  heretics,  as  well  as  among  the  heathen  and  the 
infidels,  did  the  Jesuits  carry  on  a  tireless  propaganda.  Wher- 
ever Protestantism  had  found  a  footing,  Catholic  princes  and 
sometimes  prelates  (for  the  old  opposition  between  the  secular 
and  the  regular  clergy  found  full  vent  in  the  jealousy  with  which 
the  bishops  eyed  the  Jesuits)  invoked  their  aid.  In  all  the 
northern  and  western  countries  of  Europe  that  had  departed 
from  Catholicism  they  acted  both  as  ecclesiastical  and  ix)litical 
agents.  They  watched  over  the  little  groups  that  had  remained 
faithful  to  the  Mother  Church  and  confirmed  them  in  their 
loyalty;  and  in  a  busy  and  often  daring  and  romantic  activity 
they  endeavored  to  win  back  the  deserters  of  the  ancient  fold 
in  one  way  or  another  as  a  prudent  expediency  seemed  to  dic- 
tate. In  this  work  they  employed  all  the  qualities  that  had  been 
sought  for  in  the  selection  o^  their  members  and  accentuated  Ey" 
^hy  dlYiip^"^^  of  their  order ;  and  by  so  doing  they  aroused"? 
sgeria,!  (lUtrnst  anH  fear  of  jhemselves  in  the  apostate  lands  that 
developed  into  a  positive  mania.  ^  Ihev  had  a  good  manv  strilc- 
ing  successes  in  individual  cases;  and  it  is  not  too  much  to  say 


THE  RISE  OF  THE  JESUITS 


427 


that  after  the  first  outbreak  of  the  Protestant  Revolution  they 
were  largely  instrumental  in  limiting  its  progress. 

Lqyda's  idealism,  at  once  mystical  and  energetically  practica 
m  the  highest  degree,  had  at  last  found  expression  in  the 
establishment  of  the  Society  of  Jesus;  and,  conforming  to  the 
desire  of  his  colleagues  and  the  commands  of  his  confessor,  he 
t^yafn<>  in  ic^.1  its  first  p;eneraL  Under  his  direction  the  work 
of  the  society  was  carried  on  with  a  zeal  and  a  success  that 
must  have  surpassed  his  fondest  hopes. 

In  Italy  the  new  society  ^]ft  with  PYtranrHmary  gi^^^^pss  frogi 
the  b^;inning.  Its  most  tried  and  trusted  leaders  were  sent 
16  UiOse  places  where  heretical  ideas  had  gained  a  footing. 
Lainez  was  sent  to  the  Venetian  territory,  Le  Jay  was  assigned 
to  Ferrara,  Salmeron  was  despatched  to  Naples,  and  other  fa- 
thers were  sent  to  other  places  where  heresy  had  shown  itself 
above  the  surface.  Soon  the  peninsula  became  studded  with 
Jesuit  schools  and  convents.  No  less  immediately  was  the  in- 
fluence of  the  society  felt  in  that  other  peninsula  in  which  its 
founder  had  been  bom.  Despite  the  fact  that  the  Spanish  gov- 
ernment regarded  them  with  suspicion  as  the  special  emissaries 
of  the  Papacy  and  that  the  Dominicans,  who  were  powerfully 
entrenched  in  the   kingdom,  viewed  them  with  jealousy,  the 

Jesuits  maH^  an   fym   g^^ntPf   prfitg^*"""   ■'^    ^pni'r,   fU^p   ffipy   Hi/^ 

in  Italy.  Very  soon  they  were  chosen  as  confessors  by  the  most 
miportant  members  of  the  nobility.  In  John  III  of  Portugal 
they  found  a  particularly  zealous  patron  and  so  rapid  progress 
was  made  in  his  dominions.  North  of  the  Alns-_and  the 
Pyrenees  the  society  ^^v^nceA  less  rapid ly^    ] 


ranee,  where 
the  episcopacy  was  still  animated  by  the  spirit  of  Galilean  lib- 
erty, they  were  /^pp^g^d  bv  the  bishops  and  the  faculty  of  the 
f^nrhnni^e  whr>  instinctively  scented  dangerous  nVilS  In  tfiC  fieWT 
body  that  prof essed  itself  to  be  the  special  flying  squadron  of  the 
Papacy.  But  in  spite  of  opposition  an  entry  into  France  was 
obtained,  and  the  progress  of  the  society  there,  though  very  slow 
for  a  considerable  time,  was  nevertheless  steady.  To  secure  a 
firm  foothold  in  Germany  was  a  measure  specially  desired  by 
LX)yola.  "  It  is  there,"  he  said,  "  that  the  pest  of  heresy  has 
exposed  men  to  graver  dangers  than  elsewhere."    Bobadilla  be- 

ean  active  ^ork  Jn  R^Yaria  an^  *^oqP  ^""  ^^^  support  of  the  duke. 
Before  long  the  University  ^^  fngolstadt  ^came  one  ot  the 
two  great  Jesuit  centers  m  Germany.  In  Austria  the  confidence 
oi  Kjng  i'erdinand,  VVllU  iiUUii  iiiliUbieU  the  new  priests  with  the 
pryitrnl  rti  ffip  T  Tniver<^j|y  of  Vi^n"^^-^^*^  quickly  secured  by 
Lc  Jay.    From  these  two  centers  the  influence  of  the  Jesuits 


XfOjolft 

OllOMIl 

GMitral 


of  th« 

OrdarUn- 

dtrXfOjoU 


4^ 


THE  CATHOUC  REFORMATION 


TheHfw 
Ordtra 
Prodnoi  of 
UmTIbm 


I  ^.1 1 '  1 1  t 


Spread  in  all  directioiis.    Colleges  weie  crtaWiihed  in 
parts  of  Austria,  and  a  Jesuit  school,  designed  duefly  te  Ac 
education  of  the  young  Bohemian  nobks,  was  o| 

faiversi^  of  Cologne,  a  most  inqxMrtant  strategical  §m, 
Tdl  into  their  BUdl,  2U1I1  A  maiqr  other  places  tfie  sealt  ^ 
'firvoi",  BAd  tU  fflpUfflatic  chaiacter  of  Jesuit  actnrity  secnni 
stSl  further  successes,    hjthe  papal  curia  the  socfety  came  to 
'     a  mariced  influence''|gnBfMgli  their  presence  in  the  '^^ —  ' 

pope's  dieologians,  gave  signal 
It  was  a  wise  stroke  of  policy  for  the  Paj^ucy  to  intrust  its  casM  \ 
in  the  Council  so  largely  to  the  Jesuits,  for,  more  than  to  any- 
thing else,  it  was  due  to  dieir  efforts  that  Ae  great  convention, 
dreaded  by  every  pope  that  had  to  deal  widi  it,  resulted  m  an 
increase  rather  than  a  diminution  of  die  pi^Md  power  and  pres- 
tige. At  the  death  of  Loyola  in  1556  die  sodely  induded  ahoot 
one  thousand  men,  but  its  influence  was  far  beyond  that  wUdi 
one  would  naturally  ascribe  to  so  comparativdy  dender  a  num- 
ber. Thirteen  provinces  had  been  established,  seven  in  SpaniA 
and  Portuguese  territory,  three  in  Italy,  one  in  France,  and 
two  in  Germany.  Other  European  countries,  too^  had  been 
entered;  and  beyond  the  ocean,  in  America,  Africa,  and  Am, 
Jesuit  missionaries  were  busily  engaged  in  their  sdf-sacrifidiig 
labors.    So  effective  was  theh:  work  in  Europe  diat  to  Jfaos^ 

must  be  ascribed,  mfff  fhstn  tp  any  other  doglc  U 

share  in  f^t^mmmg  tke  fn^\  ffoai  wave  of  the  Frotestant  BQOttMSf 
tiiat  threatened  to  sweq)  Catholicism  south  ox  UK  Alps. 

The  establishment  of  the  Sodety  of  Jesus  and  the  apparently 
marvelous  rapidity  with  which  it  grew  in  power  were  but  the 
natural  result  of  die  preceding  ecclesiastical  and  rdigious  evolu- 
tion. The  Church,  as  we  have  seen,  became  dominated  by  the 
papal  curia ;  and  the  activity  of  the  curia  was  very  largdy  given 
over  to  the  things  of  this  world,  to  finandal  and  polidod  affairs. 
There  were  many  efforts  to  reform  the  consequent  moral  and 
religious  demoralization;  efforts  within  the  Church,  and  at  last, 
beginning  with  Luther,  efforts  without  the  Church.  The  actual 
schisms  of  the  Protestant  Revolution  made  all  those  reformers 
who  deemed  it  best  to  stay  within  the  andent  fold  more  deter- 
mined than  ever  to  remove  the  evils  that  had  destroyed  that 
unity  of  the  Church  which  was  to  them  a  mark  of  her  divine 
origin.  They  b^;an  to  see  that  reform  must  be  far-reaching, 
that  it  could  not  stop  with  the  mere  correction  of  immorality, 
but  must  go  on  to  an  increased  efficiency  of  the  deigy  by  means 
of  a  better  education  and  preparation  for  their  work,  and  that 
it  must  indude  a  reform  of  worship  and  a  simplification  and 


THE  RISE  OF  THE  JESUITS  ^ 


mutfaoritative  definition  of  dogma*    If  the  Papacy  was  to  retain     <^ 

its  position  of  supreme  authority  it  was  necessary  that  it  should     

pat  itself  at  the  head  of  this  reform  party  within  the  Church   i«*o-i 
whose  plans  had  gradually  grown  wider  and  whose  mood  had 
become  increasingly  militant    It  so  happened  that  at  this  time 
a  series  of  men  committed  to  this  very  policy  occupied  the  papal 
throne.   -It  i«^  ^nt  n  m^ttfr  nf  siirrriyfj  thifnj  that  jhft  Snrjrty 

pf  Jesus,  destin<^   gt  fip^^t  ^n   thf,  minH   nf  T^ynla   fn  rrmfin<>  j^yi 

activity  to  the  AaohammedatTi  goiintn>«^r  <thniilH  h;|vff  h^  caught 

e  wave  of   reform  within   flii>  fTinrrh   Jr^jf 
nt  ni  agrprPQftiv#>  ratfinliriQm       Tt  waS  bom 

very  hour  of  need.  It  answered  to  the  intimate  neces- 
sity of  the  Church.  And  so  the  very  circumstances  of  the  time 
imposed  its  career  upon  it  and,  in  part,  guaranteed  its  success. 
The  genius  of  Loyola  is  unquestionable.  He  had  the  thoughts^ 
of  a  philosopher  and  the  emotions  of  a  saint.  He  matched  the  ) 
cunning  of  every  diplomat  with  whom  he  came  into  contact,  and 
neither  he  nor  his  schemes  suffered  from  the  learning  of  any 
lawyer.  But  nevertheless  the  Society  of  Jesus,  which  he  founded, 
was  a  product  of  the  time  quite  as  much  as  were  the  Council  of 
Trent,  the  revived  Inquisition,  and  the  Congregation  of  the  In- 
dex ;  and  more  than  any  of  these  institutions  it  wac  \\iei  ^ypre^g- 
sion  of  the  militant  spirit  of  Catholicism  that  had  been  aroused 
fiotL  'I'wo  forces,  disciphrta  UfiU  UUeilV.  (Ibllii^l VSlIlSm 
innovation,  are  forever  at  work  in  human  life.  The  excess 
of  one  engenders  uniformity  and  stagnation,  while  the  excess 
of  the  other  produces  disorder.  In  both  extremes  is  the  germ 
of  death.  The  tendencies  of  the  Renaissance  toward  paganism, 
scepticism,  and  rationalism,  and  the  result  of  the  reformation 
movement  north  of  the  Alps  in  rebellion,  seemed  to  point  to 
discipline  and  conservatism  as  the  chief  need  of  Catholicism. 
That  seeming  need  the  new  society  answered  most  effectually. 
And  discipline  and  conservatism  have  ever  since  remained  it; 
watchword  and  its  shibboleth. 


CHAPTER  XXII 

THE  COUNCIL  OF  TRENT 

1.  The  Crisis. 

2.  The  Council. 

3.  The  Council's  Sequel 


T 


O  the  Council  of  Trent,  in  which  the  Jesuits  played  so 

important  a  part,  we  must  now  turn  our  attention.    First 

1666-61     of  all,  however,  there  must  be  noted  the  crisis  that  made  impera- 

TheNooes-   tive  its  convocation.    Lutheranism  had  recovered  from  the  de- 

ff^nMi^    feat  it  had  suffered  in  1547  at  the  battle  of  Muhlberg;  and  it 

and  iM       had  spread  not  only  in  northern  Germany,  where  it  had  become 

^^^**'*"*'    paramount,  but  also  in  the  Scandinavian  and  Slavonic  lands  to 

% Mf^  ^  r  ^  the  north;  and  in  1552  its  inroads  in  far-off  Iceland  caused  the 

trtO  ^H  Jt,gtf^'''T^pr*>^*-^"^*>  of  the  last  official  representatives  of  Catholicism. 

In  Hungary  the  new  creed  was  making  its  way,  and  in  Tran- 
sylvania the  property  of  the  old  Church  was  confiscated  by  a 


^j^^  ^  t^  formal  decree  of  the  diet.  In  southern  Germany  the  Lutheran 
^j2jl  ^^  tenets  had  become  firmly  established  in  those  districts  into  which 
^■^^^♦jj^^  they  had  early  found  their  way  and  in  addition  had  become  more 
^JfV\^  widely  extended.  In  Rhenish  and  Danubian  lands  alike  the  ac- 
'•'•^^2;  ^y  tivity  of  the  heretics  was  most  energetic.  Everywhere,  it  seemed, 
^l^ip^U^iJWratholicism  sustained  losses  in  worldly  possessions  and  spiritual 
p^i4^i>^X^nnfluence.  Into  the  universities,  too,  the  new  opinions  had  pene- 
'  "^  trated  and  become  predominant.    About  the  middle  of  the  cen- 

tury two  decades  had  gone  by  in  which  not  a  single  student  in 
the  University  of  Vienna  had  been  ordained  a  priest.  Calvin- 
ism, also,  was  spreading  in  all  directions  from  its  strategic  cen- 
ter. It  had  found  its  way  into  eastern  Germany,  Hungary,  and 
Poland.  In  the  Low  Countries  and  in  Scotland  it  had  risen  into 
independent  power ;  in  England  it  was  in  alliance  with  the  mon- 
archy; and  in  France  it  continued  not  only  to  maintain  itself  but 
to  increase  in  defiance  of  persecution.  England,  having  sepa- 
rated herself  from  the  Papacy  by  act  of  parliament,  had  a  State 
church  of  her  own.  From  the  arctic  circle  to  the  Pyrenees 
and  from  the  Bav  of  Biscay  almost  to  Ihe^BTacKSea  th^  new_ 

430 


THE  COUNCIL  OF  TRENT 


431 


way    anH    wprp   fhrp^uft^ntr^g    e»»11    ^i«-- 

fi^r  eT^^|-()afl^m<>ntg  Men  of  all  ranks,  says  Macaulay,  were  to 
>c  found  in  the  multitude  of  innovators.  "  Sovereigpis  impatient 
to  appropriate  for  themselves  the  prerogatives  of  the  pod^s. 
bot>l€s  desirous  to  snare  the  plunder  of  abbeys,  suitors  exas- 
perated by  tne  extortions  of  the  Roman  camera,  patriots  impa- 
tient of  a  toreign  rule,  good  men  scandalized  by  ttie  corruptions 
61  the  Church,  bad  men  desirous  of  the  license  inseparable  from* 
^great  moral  revolutions,  wise  men  eager  m  the  pursuit  of  trutff^ 
weaK  men  allured  by  the  glitter  of  novelty,  all  were  found  "^ 
e  side.  .  .  .  Within  fifty  years  from  the  day  on  which  Luther 
publicly  renounced  communion  with  the  Papacy,  and  burned  the 
bull  of  Leo  before  the  gates  of  Wittenberg,  Protestantism  at- 
tained its  highest  ascendency."  But,  as  we  have  seen,  the  vari- 
ous State  churches  and  sects  of  Protestantism  were  by  no  means 
friendly  to  each  other.  They  were  not  magnanimous  enough  to 
tolerate  theological  differences  in  each  other.  The  doctrine  of 
the  Lord's  Supper,  for  instance,  was  the  subject 
strife  betwe^p  Lutherans  a^^^  ra1vinig^<£^  and  both  these  groups 

e  hostile  to  the  Anglicans  who,  in  their  turn,  reciprocated  the 
feeling  of  enmity.  Protestant  antagonists  assailed  each  other 
with  extreme  bitterness  and  reckless  violence.  Thus  did  they 
fail  to  present  a  united  front  to  their  reinvigorated  foe  and  help 
to  bring  about  the  loss,  in  a  large  measure,  of  the  ascendancy 
they  had  so  recently  gained. 

Italy,  Spain,  Portugal,  where  the  symptoms  of  dissent  had 
been  completely  suppressed,  and  Ireland  had  ^fmained  whnlli 


Catholic ;  and  die  majority  of  the  people  in  Frai^pe.  Poland.  an< 

Htincrarv  still  nrnfesgerl  th#>  anripnt  rrppfl 


Th^  English  nob^itv 


1566^1 


tantBpixit 
of  0»- 


and  many  of  the  commons  were  still  Catholic;  and  so  were  sev- 
cral  of  the  Swiss  cantonS|  the  Walloon  provinces  of  the  Nether- 
lands,  and  many  parts  of  Germany.  The  passive  attitude  of 
defense  with  which  the  Church  had  hitherto  b<^<*"  rnnri*nt  m  f Ra 
^lacc  0/  lliL  ftiuil  uulbiuiK  uf  PrOiestantism  now  g^ve  way  to 

one  oi  vlgofous  uggreij^ion. — lu  our  siudy  ul  the  revival  ol  con- " 

science  and  ot  the  inroads ^f  heresy  into  Italy  and  Spain  we  have 
seen  something  of  the  beginnings  of  the  Catholic  Reformation; 
in  the  chapter  devoted  to  the  fears  that  beset  men  in  the  middle 
of  the  sixteenth  century  we  have  seen  that  the  psychological 
condition  of  the  time  induced  many  who  had  abandoned  the 
faith  of  their  childhood  to  return  to  the  ancient  fold  and  pre- 
vented others  from  leaving  it;  and  we  have  just  noted  in  the 
rise  of  the  Jesuits  the  establishment  of  a  powerful  militia  that 
the  Church  was  to  use  most  effectively  in  her  onslaught  upon 


432 


THE  CATHOLIC  REFORMATION 


1548-47 


TteOoD- 


BmUmI 


ftodOr- 
gaaliitlon 
of  Um 
Oonndl 


the  seceders.  All  the  signs  of  the  times  pointed  to  a  great 
and  successftd  outburst  of  militant  Catholidsm.  The  Catholic 
Church  was  determined  not  to  abate  in  the  least  her  daim  of 
being  the  one  true  church  directly  descendant  from  Christ ;  and 
she  was  resolved  to  attempt  the  recovery  of  all  the  territory  that 
had  disowned  her  dominion.  But  first  of  all  it  was  necessan 
to  define  her  creeds  and  to  make  the  line  of  demarcation  between 


ic   ana   non-Catholic   clear   and   unmistakable.     Hitherto 

too  much  liberty  of  interpretation  had  been  allowed  within  her 

pale;  but  when  some  of  her  fundamental  dogmas  were  attacked 

it  seemed  imperative  that  they  should  be  submitted  to  a  rigid 

- — definition. 

Paul  III  (1534-49)  was  now  the  reigning  pontiff.  The  situa- 
tion that  confronted  him  appeared  most  perplexing.  As  the 
head  of  the  Church  it  was  plainly  his  duty  to  carry  on  the 
reformation  of  morals  and  to  bring  about  a  settlement  of  the 
doctrinal  disputes.  It  was  apparent  that  these  things  could  not 
be  accomplished  l^y  ^h^  ordinary  pfrimnig^ifiYti  /^f  ^^^^.^^  ^  jhe 

amor  for  a  general  cotmcil  of  the  Church  was  widespread  and 
incessant.  But  councils  were  dang^erous  to  the  papal  power. 
Those  of  CcHistance  and  Basel  had  made  determined  attempts 
to  lessen  the  papal  authority.  Might  not  the  condliar  theory, 
were  another  council  to  be  convoked,  secure  such  a  new  impetus 
in  the  present  state  of  affairs  as  to  make  irresistible  its  fulfil- 
ment in  practice?  Then,  too,  the  Pope,  in  addition  to  being  the 
head  of  the  Church,  was  also  the  head  of  an  Italian  principality. 
And  Paul,  as  a  political  potentate,  rnnr^iveH  Tharleg  y  to  *^ 
his  most  Hangpfniis  opponent.    Charles  was  particularly  clamant 

or  a  council.  Alight  not  the'  powerful  Emperor,  who  had  as- 
sumed the  heavy  burden  of  putting  Christendom  in  order,  secure 
control  of  the  council  and  curtail  the  authority  of  the  Holy 
See?  Filled  with  these  doubts  and  fears  the  Pope  delayed  the 
stunmoning  of  the  council  as  long  as  possible.  At  last,  after 
many  postponements,  the  ccmnc\\  p]^t  in  Tif4g  at  T^**"^!  ^  town 
3  thPi  Ar°^^'n*^  ^yroL  T^o^  reasons  determined  the  choice  of 
the  town.  Being  just  within  the  Empire  it  technically  fulfilled 
the  desire  of  Charles  to  have  the  council  held  in  Germany ;  and 
being  on  the  Italian  side  of  the  Alps  it  was  somewhat  removed 
from  falling  out  of  the  control  of  the  Papacy.  But  so  scant  was 
the  attendance  because  of  the  outbreak  of  the  last  war  between 
the  Emperor  and  Francis  I  of  France,  that  it  was  prorogued; 
and  not  until  the  end  of  i^^^i  was  its  first  session  inau^rated^ 
In  April  of  the  following  year  there  were  only  between  sixty 
and  seventy  prelates  in  attendance;  and  of  these  the  large  ma- 


THE  COUNCIL  OF  TRENT  433 

were  Italian.    The  council  was  therefore,  at  that  time,     ^m' 

very  far  from  being  oecumenical  in  character.    The  Pope  wsia     

represmtcd  by  three  legates,  Giovanni  del  Monte.  Marcello  ****^^ 
Cervini,  and  K^pnaia  -t^oie,  all  of  whom  were  cardinals.  There 
was  no  acceptea  method  i^or  the  organization  and  conduct  of 
general  councib.  So  this  important  matter  had  to  be  deter- 
mined there  and  then.  The  "ffht  tO  ^ote  was  limited  to  bishopg 
and  the  generals  of  religious  orders :  voting  was  to  be  by  in- 
dividuals ana  not  by  natibttS  1  4nd  no  absentee  was  to  be  permitted  _ 
to  vote  by  proxy.  Thus  was  there  adroitly  ensured  the  prepon* 
de^mce  of  the  Italian  prelates.  Some  years  later,  when  the 
right  to  initiate  measures  for  discussion  was  r^servtid  <*y<*^"* 
siyelv  to  the  leyates^  who  were  constantly  in  commimication 
with  Rome,  and  when  all  important  enactments  were  made  sub- 
ject to  the  pontifical  confirmation,  the  triumph  of  the  papal 
party  in  the  council  was  assured. 

When  the  machinery  had  been  thus  arranged  the  debates  did  DMUtoaa 
not  begin  without  a  dispute  as  to  whether  questions  of  doctrine  ^SSu^ 
or  questions  of  the  reformation  of  ecclesiastical  abuses  should  ofBeu«f, 
take  precedence.  It  was  finally  decided  to  consider  them  si-  ^!^ooo 
multaneously.  Among  the  earliest  decisions  was  the  one  relat- 
ing to  tradition.  Protestantism  held  that  the  Scriptures  should 
be  the  sole  reliance  of  the  Christian.  Catholicism  declared  that 
the  tradition  in  the  keeping  of  the  Church  should  have  equal 
weight  with  the  Bible.  Here  was  a  fundamental  cla^h  between 
the  two  systems.  It  was  decided,  with  only  six  dissenting  votes, 
that  the  tradition  of  the  Church  is  of  equal  imoortance  ynth  thg 
gcripturea^  And  so  to-dav  this  idea  of  the  importance  of  Cath- 
olic  tradition  permeates  all  the  faithful  members  of  the  Church, 
laity  as  well  as  clergy.  The  Holy  Ghost  abides  perpetually 
within  the  Church;  she  has  received  the  explicit  promise  of 
Christ  that  the  gates  of  hell  shall  not  prevail  against  her ;  there- 
fore the  tradition  in  her  keeping,  dealing  with  essential  matters 
of  faith,  cannot  be  mistaken  and  is  of  equal  importance  with 
the  Bible.  Then  there  was  the  question  as  to  the  text  of  the 
Scriptures.  All  through  the  Middle  Ages  the  translation  of  the 
Bible  into  Latin  by  St.  Jerome,  known  as  the  Vulgate,  had  been 
the  authoritative  text.  The  humanists  had  fotmd  many  flaws 
in  the  translation,  and  Luther  asserted  it  to  be  full  of  errors. 
But,  with  the  injunction  that  hereafter  it  should  be  printed  with 
scrupulous  care,  the  Vulaate  was  declared  to  be  the  authorita- 
tive version;^  The  great  question  of  justification  was  then  cotif 
sidered.  Is  man  saved  by  faith  alone,  or  is  he  saved  by  faith 
and  good  works?    Salvation  by  faith  alone  was  the  central 


434 


THE  CATHOLIC  REFORMATION 


1948-47 


Leading 
Members 
of  the 
Ooimcil 


thought  of  Protestantism.  Around  it  had  revolved  the  mot 
bitter  animosities.  Its  acceptance  by  the  council  would  have 
rendered  the  entire  sacramental  system  of  the  Church  unneoet- 
sary.  It  would  seem  that  a  sincere  effort  was  made  by  a  ooo- 
siderable  number  of  the  del^[ates  to  understand  the  Protestaflt 
position  and  to  deal  with  it  justly.  Yet  so  diametrically  opposed 
are  the  two  positions,  and  so  divergent  are  the  two  types  of 
piety,  and  the  two  modes  of  daily  life  that  flow  from  them, 
that  the  essential  part  of  good  works  in  the  process  of  salvatioo, 
although  men  were  warned  against  relying  exclusively  upoo 
them,  was  proclaimed.  When  the  necessity  of  woiics  had  ^m 
been  declared,  the  seven  sacraments,  the  mnsf  jngpf^rts^nt  of  gB 
works,  were  pronoimced  to  De  nnal,  endiu-in 
ihe  sacraments,  with  the  excepiicJIT  ol  bapusm  in  a  time  of 
extremity,  can  be  administered  only  by  a  duly  ordained  priest 
When,  therefore,  the  indispensability  of  the  sacraments  was 
enunciated  the  dependence  of  the  laity  upon  the  priesthood  was 
confirmed.  Concurrently  with  these  decisions  were  published 
decrees  that  looked  to  the  reformation  of  ecclesiastical  abuses. 
Preaching  and  the  teaching  of  theology  were  r^ulated,  resi- 
dence in  their  respective  districts  was  enjoined  upon  the 
clergy,  and  the  plurality  of  incompatible  benefices  was  forbid- 
den. 

Several  men  stand  out  above  the  others  in  the  discussions  of 
the  council.  Prominent  among  the  leading  debaters  was  Car- 
dinal Gasparo  Contarini,  whom  we  have  already  met  as  one  of 
those  high-minded  Catholics  who  wished  to  see  a  thorough-poing 
reformation  carried  on  within  the  pale  of  the  Church  and  who 
desire^  :\  ^-^rnnriliatj^j^  {between  ^he  great  divisions  that  \^^d 
arisen  in  (j|!|irister^(;1nTri^  At  the  council  he  was  much  more  in- 
terested m  the  reform  of  morals  and  discipline  than  in  the  dis- 
putes over  doctrine.  Reginald  Pole,  the  English  cardinal,  was 
another  of  the  mediating  reformers  who  hoped  to  see  the  coun- 
cil result  in  the  reunion  and  the  reinvigoration  of  western  Chris- 
tendom. Cardinal  Girolamo  Seripando,  general  of  the  Augus- 
tinians,  in  whom  were  comomea  tiie  desirable  features  of  human- 
ism and  Christianity,  w^s  the  chief  advocate  of  a  compromise 
doctrine  of  justification.  In  striking  contrast  to  tnese  OTflCllH- 
ory  spokesmen  was  tlie  bigoted  Cardinal  Caraffa^  of  whom  wc 
have  already  seen  something  as  a  retorming  bishop^  in  Italy  and 
of  whom  we  are  to  see  still  more  as  a  reforming  pope.  He  was 
one  of  the  most  vig^oryus  opponents  of  th^  attpmpt  to  effect  a 
compromise  upon  the  doctrine  of  justification.     Bv  the  reform- 


ing energy  of  Cardmal  Ximenes  the  ::5panisn  prelates  had  been 


THE  COUNCIL  OF  TRENT  435 

made  the  best  bishops  in  Europe ;  but  they  did  not  arrive  at  Trent     ^^q^' 

until  the  discussions  we  have  just  noted  were  concluded.    They      

were  inflexibly  orthodox,  but  they  had  a  keen  realization  of  the  i***^^ 
corruption  of  the  papal  curia  and  the  general  immorality  of  the 
clergy,  and  they  were  prepared  to  use  the  surgeon's  knife  in  re- 
moving the  evils  that  afflicted  the  Church,  Finally  there  should 
be  noted  the  two  Jej^tii^ct^  f^almeron  and  Lainez.  who  acted  as 
the  Pope's  theologians.  Both  of  them  were  able  men,  and  the 
latter  was  extraordinarily  eloquent.  They  had  been  enjoined  by 
Loyola  to  resist  all  innovation  in  doctrine,  and  so  they  combated 
Seripando  and  his  associates  with  all  the  skill  and  energy  at  their 
command.  They  were  permitted  to  preach  during  the  council,  a 
privilege  denied  to  the  other  delegates,  and  soon  they  ingratiated 
themselves  into  the  good  will  even  of  the  Spanish  bishops.  So 
unusual  was  their  knowledge  of  the  writings  of  the  great  fathers 
of  the  Church  and  of  the  conclusions  of  the  scholastic  philosophy, 
and  so  successful  were  they  in  presenting  themselves  as  the  advo- 
cates of  purity  of  doctrine,  that  they  came  to  wield  a  oreoon- 
derating  influence  in  the  counQfl! 

'l^hus  tar,  m  me  council,  from  the  papal  point  of  view,  all 
had  gone  well.  No  impairment  of  the  power  of  the  Papacy  had  tim  Sai- 
been  made  and  the  primary  errors  of  Protestantism  had  been  jJJS^ 
condemned.  But  the  hopes  of  the  Emperor  had  been  unfulfilled. 
The  questions  of  ecclesiastical  reform  had  not  been  thoroughly 
dealt  with,  and  the  prospect  of  reconciliation  with  the  Protestants 
seemed  more  remote  than  ever.  Charles  was  meeting  with  suc- 
cess in  Germany,  and  it  seemed  to  Paul  that,  when  he  had  com- 
pelled obedience  there,  he  might  go  to  Trent  and  insist  upon 
far-reaching  reforms.  The  danger  of  such  an  occurrence  would 
not  be  so  great  were  the  council  nearer  Rome.  So,  in  1547,  the 
outbreak  of  a  few  cases  of  the  plague  at  Trent  was  seized  upon 
as  a  pretext  and  the  Council  was  removed  to  Boloppa.  It  was 
the  interests  of  hi^  Itfjl^p  P^'^^Talitv-  ^"d  his  personal  power 

as  the  Pope,  rather  than  th^  unity  nf   f:^ri<;tenrtnm   y^jlh   wkirti 

aul  was  rhiptiv  fflncemed.  But  not  all  the  delegates  acquiesced 
in  the  removal.  Fourteen  prelates  remained  to  face  the  plague 
and  the  consequences  of  the  imperial  dictation.  Charles  pro- 
tested against  the  transference  of  the  Council  as  being  unneces- 
sary and  unlawful,  and  he  announced  his  intention  of  regarding 
its  proceedings  as  invalid  until  it  resumed  its  sittings  at  Trent. 
The  death  of  Paul  brought  upon  the  scene  a  new  Pope,  Julius 
III  (1550-55),  who,  as  the  cardinal  Del  Monte,  had  been  one 
of  the  three  legates  at  the  council.  Quite  unexpectedly  he  yielded 
to  the  Emperor's  desire  by  sending  the  council  back  to  Trent, 


436  THE  CATHOLIC  REFORMATION 


where,  in  1551,  it  renewed  its  deliberaticMis.    Nothing  had  beBJ 

arromplifiheH  at  B9lQgna. 

1647-49  'Tjjg  second  meeting  of  the  Council  of  Trent  was  compandiY^ 
Tbe  B«-  insignificant.  Henry  II  of  France,  who  was  about  to  b^gin  wv 
JJJJJ^  with  the  Emperor  in  Italy,  objected  to  the  choice  of  an  inqmd 
u  Trait  town  as  the  meeting  place  of  the  coundL  He  recalled  the  Frendi 
prelates  who  were  there  and  forbade  others  to  go.  The  smd 
attendance  compelled  an  adjournment  from  May  to  September. 
The  new  legate,  Cardinal  Crescenzio,  was  a  staunch  supporter  of 
the  Papacy.  So  the  prospect  of  the  reunion  of  western  Christen- 
dom seemed  dimmer  than  ever.  Yet  owing  to  the  Emperor^i 
constant  pressure  a  number  of  Protestants,  laymen  who  were  the 
delegates  of  some  of  the  Protestant  princes,  appeared  at  the 
council.  The  dogmas  that  had  helped  to  bring  about  thdr  sepft- 
ration  from  Rome  had  already  been  defined,  so  it  is  not  easy  to 
see  what  was  to  be  expected  of  their  participaticm.  The  wide 
gulf  that  now  separated  the  Protestants  from  the  Catholics  oooU 
be  only  more  clearly  revealed.  Still  it  was  always  \}^^  ^1l#f  nf 
Charles  that  if  only  the  leaders  of  the  two  divisions  of  Christm- 
dom  could  be  brongn^  topethM*  in  9.  deliberative  asscnM)ly__flic 
:eacli  would  be  ^ealed,^  Affairs  in  Germany,  Italy,  and  Spain 
migtit  at  any  moment  require  the  Emperor's  presence.  Charles 
could  not  be  everywhere  at  once.  So  he  went  to  Innsbruck 
where  he  could  watch  over  the  council.  Thence  he  could  mardi 
without  loss  of  time  either  into  Italy  or  Spain,  or  could  retun 
quickly  to  Germany.  But  no  sooner  had  he  left  Germany  than 
Maurice  of  Saxony  began  to  take  advantage  of  his  absence,  and 
before  many  months  had  gone  by  the  traitorous  prince  was  ad- 
vancing with  an  army  along  the  broad  road  to  Innsbruck  and  to 
Trent.  The  Pope  and  his  legates  had  already  become  fearful 
that  the  appearance  of  the  Protestant  deputies,  and  the  presence 
of  the  Emperor  within  an  easy  march  of  three  days  from  Trent, 
might  induce  bolder  proceedings  on  the  part  of  the  council  against 
the  papal  authority.  The  njjjrgnr.fi  nf  thr  Prt^ti^^tant  Prince  in 
1552,  which  compelled  the  Emperor  to  flee  from  Innsbruck,  was 
therefore  ji  ^fj^of"^  rpacnr^  fnr  ||ii>  suspension  ^f  fh^  mifg- 

Although  the  Coundl  was  suspended  for  only  two  years  an 
entire  decade  was  to  go  by  before  it  met  again.  Many  things 
hindered  its  resumption.  The  war  between  the  Protestant  princes 
and  the  Emperor  in  Germany  was  ended  in  1552,  it  is  true,  by 
the  peace  of  Passau.  But  the  war  between  the  Emperor  and  the 
king  of  France  still  continued,  and  so  Charles  found  it  impossible 
to  insist  upon  the  summoning  of  the  council  at  the  expiration  of 


THE  COUNCIL  OF  TRENT 


437 


two  years.     Tnliim  was  apparently  desirous  not  fn  havp  thft 

meet  again.    The  risk  t^  the  papal  powi 


1M8-68 


agai 

/hen  be  died  be  was  succeeded  by  Marcellus  I^  (1555),  whose 
fe  had  been  free  from  the  shadow  of  reproach,  who  was  genu-  wtj^b/^ 
idly  devoted  to  the  cause  of  reform,  but  who  unfortunately  ^^Si 
signed  op^y  twe^ty-twn  Hay<^  Under  the  title  of  Paul  IV 
1555—59)  the  relentless  cardinal  Caraffa  now  became  Pope. 
rom  the  ardor  with  which  he  had  carried  on  the  work  oi  re- 
xm  in  his  Italian  diocese  it  was  to  be  expected  that  the  ecclesi- 
stical  abuses  would  at  once  find  in  him  a  vigorous  assailant. 
^tit  reform  was  delayed  in  order  that  what  were  deemed  to  be 
le  interests  of  the  papal  principality  might  be  advanced.  Paul 
ad  long  disliked  the  Spaniards.  He  regarded  their  power  in 
taly  as  a  menace  to  the  papal  state.  So  he  wished  to  see  them 
re^cned  if  not  banished  altogether  from  the  peninsula,  ^t  *^ 
est  a  French  army  entered  Ita^y^-  hut  in  ik^*^  a  disaster  ^o 
arms  at  ::)t.  uuentm  on  tne  Flemish  frontier  com- 
ed  its  withdrawal  and  the  Spanish  powyr  in  thf  p#>ningiila  wag 

n^ry  grmly  i>fttah|||<;^P^   than   yv^.p.     Charles   V  had   died.     The 

fjnpire  had  been  divided.  And  it  seemed  clear  that  Philip  II 
x>uld  enter  Italy  through  Naples  far  more  easily  and  effectively 
ban  could  his  father  from  over  the  Alps.  There  seemed  nothing 
o  do,  therefore,  but  to  abandon  the  project  of  dislo^[ing  the 
Spaniard  from  Italy.  So,  with  all  his  impetuous  energy  and 
mplacable  spirit,  the  disappointed  pontiff  turned  to  the  work  of 
reform.  He  it  was  who  gave  the  decisive  impulse  to  the  Catholic 
Reformation  in  the  second  half  of  the  sixteenth  century.  None 
>f  his  predecessors  had  so  keenly  perceived  as  he  the  abuses  that 
then  prevailed  in  the  Church.  But  of  all  the  popes  of  the  Tren- 
tine  period  he  was  the  only  one  who  failed  to  convoke  the  council. 
How  is  this  to  be  reconciled  with  his  undoubted  desire  to  effect 
reform?  Public  opinion  was  by  no  means  unanimous  in  favor 
of  a  resumption  of  the  council.  At  its  opening  the  council  had 
excited  great  hopes,  but  thus  far  its  practical  results  were  still 

to  seek.     Tt^^  l^^^  yf  AlUr^""?  tn  T;j55  ^^H  pfiara;^|y^  ^n^ljty 

between  the  Protestant  and  rathnlir  estates     All  fre  fundamep- 

reconcili 
a  renewal  ot  tn'econierence?^^  Paul  believed 
in  neither  the  efRclency  nor  tne  opportuneness  ot  tne  council,  and 
he  was  not  without  the  fear  of  an  infringement  of  the  papal 
power  that  had  actuated  his  predecessors.  Under  the  guidance 
of  the  Holy  Spirit,  he  asserted,  he  could  carry  out  the  ^sic  fif 

nrmstAmn    nnairieil       'I  hP   ItTIIV^H^nf   thing  wag  in   retnnve   the 


438  THE  CATHOLIC  REFORMATIOX 


of 


abuses  one  by  one,  and  to  see  that  wliat  was  ordered  was  pati 
execution.  He  was  essentially  a  man  of  action,  impatimr  ni 
doubtful  of  protracted  conciliar  dismssions  So,  hostile  aEb 
to  liberalism  within  the  Church  and  heresy  without,  he  prooeedel 

appointed  a  considerable  number.  And  ahhougfa  he  was  not 
personally  in  favor  of  the  council  his  work  prepared  the  way 
for  its  resumption  and  for  whatever  d^ree  of  success  it  attainfd 
The  last  sessions  of  the  council  were  held  in  the  pontificate  d 
Pius  IV  (1559-65),  who  was  the  antithesis  of  the  austere  and 
passionate  Paul.  Hitherto  it  was  Germany  that  had  been  main^ 
interested  in  the  council.  But  now  France  was  involved  in  a 
tk«  Pft-  grave  religious  crisis,  with  which  we  are  to  deal  when  we  come 
psiiBis-  to  the  religious  wars  in  that  country;  and  Ferdinand  of  Austm 
ST^SLi  and  Philip  of  Spain  both  desired  to  see  the  relations  of  the 
bishops  to  the  Holy  See  definitely  defined  and  regulated.  Bat 
kindly  and  conciliatory  as  was  the  new  Pope  he  was  nevertheless 
determined  to  abate  no  jot  of  the  papal  prerogative;  and  die 
question  of  the  relation  of  the  bishops  to  the  Pope  was  one  in 
which  the  power  of  the  pontiflF  was  directly  involved.  Tlifi. 
council,  however^  was  resumed,  and  Pius  displayed  great  skill  in 
the  ditiicult  positioni    Uenial  and  tenacious  at  the  same  time, 

h^  manay^^    whilp  appparing  t;^  r^ngjljate.  to  kffl^  th#>  HiH>iMny 
of  every  qi^ygtinn  tn  his  niyn  hfl"^*^      So  the  council  began  its 

final  labors.    All  hope  of  reuniting  the  Protestants  with  the 
Church  had  long  vanished.    The  rprirpm  gi  fli<>  m>tiTio;i  wac 

thnrnfr^r^    limifAH    fr.    fhf^   cqpfr^U^^^    rJ^^lc    of    the    Catho^ig    CnUIl- 

J;n^  The  Pone  appointeH  fiv^  Ip^te.s  chief  of  whom  was  Cardi- 
nal Ercolc  di  Gonzaga.  But  the  work  of  the  council  did  not  get 
under  way  without  serious  disputes.  Was  the  council  now  assem- 
bled a  continuation  of  the  old  one,  or  was  it  a  new  one  smnmoned 
for  the  first  time?  If  it  were  merely  a  continuation  the  l^ates, 
of  course,  would  have  the  sole  right  to  submit  matters  for  dis- 
cussion, no  important  measure  could  be  passed  without  the  Pope's 
approval,  and  thus  the  papal  party  would  be  in  its  former  im- 
pregnable position.  The  French  and  German  an^f^aQoaHrirc  had 
been  instructed  by  their  respective  governments  to  propose  a 
number  of  measures  looking  to  reform.  They  desiri 
the  mass  said  in  the  vernacular,  to  have  the  service  books  re- 
vised, to  have  the  wine  ^s  well  as  the  wafer  given  to  the  lait^ 
Tn  the  sacrament  of  communion,  to  abolish  |}^f|  fntripnior^j-y  reli^ 
acv  of  th(^  clcrgYi  to  reform  thp  n^p^^  in  pnf^rrp  tht^  rpci^^re 
of  ecclesiastic^^  in  thoir  flif^fricts^  to  abolish  the  papal  prerogatiYC 


Tanting  dispensations  ^nj  expmptions  from  \\\^  laws  of  thc^ 


THE  COUNCIL  OF  TRENT  439 


!^  f^iirrl^^  and  ^Q  limit  th^  OQW*'^  ^^  "^^^f^mmur^^^^j^"  I^  ^^^  ^^^ 
t  wtem  likely  that  many  of  these  questions  would  he  submitted  to 
tf  the  cotmcil  for  discussion  were  the  sole  right  to  propose  the  sub-  ***"^ 
!"  jects  to  be  debated  left  once  more  in  the  hands  of  the  legates. 
:  So  lively  were  the  debates  as  to  whether  the  council  was  a  new 
one  or  merely  a  resumption  of  the  former  one  that  the  assembly 
was  in  danger  of  dissolution.  At  last  ^tw^*^  H#>riH^  that  tht- 
council  was  a  continuation  of  the  preceding  one.  So  under  the 
old  conditions  the  council  went  to  work,  iioon  the  papal  and 
the  episcopal  parties  clashed.  The  episcopal  p^rtjt,  whose  most 
important  members  were  the  Spanish  prelates,  .2i£sert£id-tbaL.the 
authority  of  the  bishops  is  not  derived  from  the  Pope  but  has 
a  direct  ongifl  from  ^.nnsi^  Thus  they  struck  at  the  very  tounoa- 
^tlon  ot  the  established  hierarchical  system.  Their  success  would 
have  changed  the  character  of  the  government  of  the  Church  com- 
pletely. The  matter  was  bitterly  disputed  for  about  ten  months. 
Viyoroug.  too.  wer<*  the  <[1ebatej;  over  the  question  of  the  chalice. 
Should  the  wme  as  well  a.<^  ^he  hreaH  he  fijyen  to  the  laitv  in  the 
comguioioit?  Italv  and  Spain  opposed  the  concffsjo"^  wTiile 
f  ninrr  nnr^  r:^f*^^»y  f^ynr^^  ^'»  ^^^  P/^2^^  woo  n/^f  Qv#>rcA  to 
the  innovation;  and  the  only  serious  argument  against  it  was 
that  it  might  create  a  lack  of  uniformity  in  the  ritual  of  the 
mass.  The  legates  seldom  made  use  of  their  sole  right  to  initiate  ^^ 
measures  for  discussion.  Consequently  other  measures  in  the 
German  and  French  projects  of  reform,  that  have  been  outlined 
in  the  list  of  topics  whidi  the  ambassadors  from  those  countries 
had  been  instructed  to  present,  were  debated.  These  radical 
changes,  however,  were  all  abhorrent  to  the  Spaniards  who,  al- 
though they  were  eager  for  reform  in  discipline,  were  exceedingly 
orthodox  in  all  matters  that  related  to  ceremony  and  dogma.  So 
there  was  little  hope  of  their  adoption.    More  than  any  others  it 


jyas  the  Jesuits  who  determined  the  ^^^^gj^r*'  ^^  fhf  '"ftUPL^ 
is  true  thai  tne  order  itself  had  no  direct  voice  in  the  assembly. 
But  the  brilliant  and  oftentimes  eloquent  discussions  of  Lainez 
and  Salmeron  had  an  enormous  influence  and  were  a  striking 
demonstration  of  the  new  force  that  had  arisen  in  the  world. 
They  displayed  all  that  skill  in  the  conduct  of  public  affairs  for 
which  their  order  became  so  celebrated.  Powerful,  too,  but  in  a 
different  fashion,  was  the  f  arHinal  Tarln  Ror|-9n^^.  nephew  of 
the  Pope,  of  whose  works  as  a  reformer  we  are  to  see  something 
in  our  next  chapter.  Irreproachable  in  his  personal  life,  saintly 
in  character,  unremitting  in  the  performance  of  his  priestly 
duties,  generous  to  the  poor  and  devoted  to  the  aiBicted,  he  was 
the  livinfT  etn^^Himei^^  ^f  g^ll  fhr  virfmie  nf  tht  ^ithnlir  Pf fnrmtv- 


440  THE  CATHOLIC  REFORMATION 


mjm'     tion.    Of  great  importance  in  the  practical  conduct  of  affiun 

was  rarHji^jil  r;invftj|fl^  Mi;^|-nni>^  who,  as  we  have  seen,  was  one 

**•*•*  of  the  mediating  reformers,  and  who,  upon  the  death  of  one  of 
the  original  appointees,  was  made  a  l^;ate  at  the  coundL  His 
skilful  diplomacy  was  largely  responsible  for  the  victory  of  the 
curial  party.  In  April  1563  he  journeyed  to  Innsbruck  to  pro- 
pitiate the  Emperor  Ferdinand  who  had  been  offended  by  the 
defeat  of  his  project  of  reform.  So  skilfully  was  this  ddicate 
nq;otiation  contrived  that  the  imperial  ambassadors  were  in- 
structed to  keep  on  good  terms  with  the  l^;ates.  After  that  tiie 
difficulty  experienced  by  the  papal  party  in  managing  the  council 
was  greatly  lessened.  The  accomplished  cardinal  displayed  equal 
diplomatic  skill  in  conciliating  many  of  the  individual  prelates 
who  were  hostile  to  the  particular  interests  of  the  Papacy.  "  Ja» 
rs  Von  Rank;^,  "  ninri>  than  to  any  other  *yian  la  tli^ 

lurch  indebted  for  the  peaceful  terminatipn  Qf  At 
■I  jj 
copncuT" 

The  political  difficulties  being  thus  greatly  lessened  it  became 
possible  to  reach  conclusions  upon  the  theological  and  ecclesi- 
astical questions  that  were  acceptable  to  the  Papacy.  Although 
the  difference  is  not  always  apparent  upon  the  surface  the  con- 
Qj^xsioxxk^l  llie  tuuiAcil  may  bi  dividod  into  twu  rh'^^r'^i  {^T^^ 
canonsy  which  relate  to  dogma^  and  ^7)  the  ^ly^r^yg,  ^[lirfi  r^latg 
tp  discipline^  In  the  space  at  our  disposal  it  is  possible  for  us 


exMiof 


tiM  oottn-     to  give  only  a  brief  analysis  of  the  principal  Tridentine  promul- 
^  gations.    With  regard  to  the  matter  of  indulgences  that  had 

started  the  Lutheran  schism  it  was  decided  ^^^aho^^^  ^^*^  r"iCr 
tice  of  selling  them  for  money;  and,  for  a  time,  the  granting  of 
lliem  for  other  considerations  was  restricted.  The  belief  in 
purgatory  was  confirmed^^he  adoration  of  the  saints  was  sanc- 
tioned, and  the  use  oJ  images  and  relics  commended.^  'Hie^exist- 
ence  of  the  seven  sacraments,  baptism,  penance^  communion,  <^Q"^ 


jlrmation,  matrimony,  holy  orders,  and  extreme  unction,  was 
affirmed,     iiach  sacrament  it  was  declared,  instituted  by  Christ. 


confers  a  special  grace.  Only  with  faith  in  Christ  and  with 
those  sacraments  that  the  ordinary  layman  receives  is  it  possible 
for  man  to  be  saved.  Faith^aloneJsjnoL^ufficifinJ.  The  adminis- 
tration of  the  sacraments  was  regulated  by  definite  ordinances. 
The  bitter  dispute  regarding  the  relations  of  the  episcopate  to 
the  Papacy  was  at  last  ended  by  the  affirmation  of  the  supremacy 
of  the  Pope.  All  the  bishops  solemnly  swore  to  obey  the  de- 
cisions  of  the  council  and  to  subject  themselves  absolutely  to  the 
papal  direction ;  and  strict  performance  of  their  duties,  especially 
that  of  the  supervision  of  the  subordinate  clergy  in  their  respcc- 


THE  COUNCIL  OF  TRENT  441 


thrc  dioceses,  was  enjoined  upon  them.    One  of  the  most  impor-     ^Sm' 

tant  ordinances  was  that  which  provided  for  the  ef^^^blishment  in      

every  diocese  of  a  seminary  in  which  boys  were  to  be  trained  for    *•••"•* 

jly  pfi^ttfhnnH       Thifc  wag  prnviQJnn  tnartP  tr^r  an  imprr^xrAtw^nf  iti 

die  character  and  ability  of  the  clergy.  Decrees  were  issued  look- 
ing to  the  elimination  of  abuses  in  the  performance  of  marriages. 
In  order  to  avoid  clandestine  marriages  it  was  prescribed  that  the 
sacrament  should  not  be  ministered  until  the  banns  had  thrice 
been  published  in  the  church  and  unless  three  wilnes^5Ci{,  one  of 
#liona  was  the  parisn  pnest  (OT  &tioiher  pnest  whom  he  had 
Iflthorized  to  represent  him;  of  one  of  the  two  contracting 
parties.  With  regard  to  the  clergy  the  council  declined  to  abolisl^ 
the  requirement  of  celibacy.  Reformatory  decrees  relating  to  a 
number  of  ecclesiastical  Abuses,  especially  to  that  of  plurality  of 
benefices,  were  issued.  The  distinction  between  the  canons/that 
relate  to  dogma,  and  the  decrees,  that  relate  to  discipline,  should 
be  kept  clearly  in  mind,  '^r  riming  immediately  upon  their 
promulgation  by  the  Pope  became  binding  upon  every  member  of 
^SjJuuxb.  Whosoever  declined  to  accept  any  one  of  them  be- 
came  ipso  facto  excommunicate.  But  Hisripljne  {^  ^  matt^f  that 
vat^  fmfm  fhnp^  jQ  ^itne  and  from  place  to  placy,.  Whosoever 
declined  to  accept  the  decrees  might  be  rash  and  even  rebellious, 
but  he  did  not  thereby  become  a  heretic.  With  this  distinction 
in  mind  we  shall  the  better  understand  the  attitude  of  certain 
Catholic  countries  in  declining  to  accept  the  decrees  of  the  coun- 
ciL  The  decrees  by  no  means  dealt  with  all  the  ecclesiastical 
abuses  of  the  time.  Nf>  rgforrp  f\i  fh^  ^nria  for  instance,  with 
its  preoccupation  with  political  and  financial  affairs  was  attempted. 
And  the  canons,  far  from  relating  to  all  the  dogmas  of  the 
Church,  dealt  only  with  those  that  had  been  called  into  question 
by  the  schismatics  of  the  century. 

On  December  4,  1563,  the  prelates,  many  of  them  deeply  af- 
fected by  emotion,  met  for  the  last  time.    On  that  day  the  council 
was  dissolved.    Having  eradicated  many  of  the  tares  sown  by  dumi^ 
her  worldly  ecclesiastics  and  defined  her  disputed  doctrines  the  q/^ 
penitent  and  militant  Church  faced  the  world  frankly  and  ex-  oonaett 
plidtly  with  not  a  little  of  her  old  serenity  and  assurance.    The 
li^^c  of  jynarf^llion  between  Catholicism  and  Protestantism  had 

>i^  sharply  Hraiyp        TVia  fjinrrli  ViaH  Ar\v^  Prr^f Acfanficm  f rr^tn 

her  fold  with  anathema.  5>be  ly^d  thrown  compromise  to  the 
iy||)^g  atiH  r^ngpn  instead  to  meet  her  /oes  in  comba,t.  Her  forces 
were  concentrated  under  a  single  direction  while  those  of  the 
enemy  were  divided.  It  was  not  an  unmixed  gain,  however,  that 
the  Church  had  reaped  from  the  deliberations  at  Trent.    She  had 


442  THE  CATHOLIC  REFORMATION 


raj^.     been  ^j?[if^*"^^^  ^^'^^^  rt^^hnMn  nnA  tti/vr^  Ttn^^^"  in  character.    Her 

bLmiiiL  Atfui'imid  but  her  dogiiio  hftd  become  more 


i5e8«67     rigid.    Less  involved  in  the  things  of  secular  life  she  was  also 
less  able,  because  of  the  dynamic  character  of  life  and  the  static 
.^  character  of  her  doctrine,  to  deal  with  life  itself. 

The  bull  Benedictus  Dens,  issued  on  January  26,  1564,  con- 
firmed the  proceedings  of  the  council  and  enunciated  the  sole 
timOoui>  right  of  the  Pope  to  interpret  its  canons  and  decrees.  The  de- 
asqiMi  cisions  of  the  council  were  printed  in  order  that  copies  might 
be  sent  to  all  the  bishops  of  the  Church.  And  on  August  2,  1564, 
the  Pope  signed  a  bull  appointing  a  special  congregation,  to  con- 
sist of  eight  cardinals,  to  direct  the  carrying  out  of  the  Triden- 
tine  decisions.  The  council  had  If  ft  »^  *^^*»  ^^p^  the  execution 
of  a  number  of  measures  which  because  of  a  lack  of  time,  it  had 
found  itself  unable  to  perform.  Among  these  were  the  revij^n 
of  the  breviary  (the  book  of  prayers  that  every  ecclesiastic  in 
mflJOf  orders'is  bound  to  read  each  day)  and  the  miss^  (the 
book  containing  the  ritual  of  the  mass),  the  ri^^piiatirm  nf^ 
catalogue  of  fprhifjHpTj  t^nkfi  °"^  thf  rrr'^r^^*^"'^"  "^^  ^^^  '^^^ 
catecmsm,  which  the  coimcil  had  left  in  an  unfinished  state.  Re- 
vised  editions  of  the  breviary  and  missal  were  published  and  also 
a  new  edition  of  the  canon  law.  More  than  a  century  before 
this  time  measures  had  been  taken  for  the  suppression  of 
heretical  books;  and  in  1559  ^^  ^^^^  papal  Index  of  prohibited 
books  had  been  published.  But  this  was  deemed  inadequate  by 
the  Tridentine  assembly  and  so  in  1564  a  new  one  was  issued.  A 
great  need  had  been  felt  of  a  satisfactory  manual  for  the  instruc- 
tion of  the  laity  in  the  essential  articles  of  the  Catholic  creed.  It 
was  to  fill  this  want  that  the  Emperor  Ferdinand  requested  his 
confessor,  Peter  Canisius,  to  prepare  a  Catechism.  This  task 
the  Jesuit  father  completed.  It  served  to  help  the  Catholic  laity 
to  entrench  themselves  behind  the  authority  of  the  great  fathers 
of  the  Church.  But  the  catechism  of  Canisius  did  not  appear  to 
the  prelates  at  Trent  to  be  completely  satisfactory.  So  a  new 
one  was  undertaken ;  and  in  1566,  after  several  papsJ  commissions 
had  worked  at  the  task,  it  was  published  under  the  title  of  Th£^ 
^OtrW  r^tff^^ff  It  is  a  summary  of  the  chief  doctrines  of 
the  Church  designed  for  the  use  of  the  clergy  in  their  own 
theological  education  but  chiefly  for  their  aid  in  giving  theological 
instruction  to  the  laity.  Still  another  sequel  of  the  Council  of 
Trent  was  the  use  and  extension  of  the  bull  li 
I  (1364-1586)    which,  unlike  other  bulls,  is  not  the  work  of  a 

single  pope.     It  excommunicated  heretics,  and  w;^;^  read  each  year 
on  the  last  Thursday  in  Lent,  the  day  preceding  the  anniversary 


THE  COUNCIL  OF  TRENT  443 


of  the  sacrifice  on  the  cross.    Secular  rulers  had  constantly  com-     ^Sm' 

plained  about  it,  because,  in  explicit  terms,  it  asserted  tht  su-      

premacy  of  the  Papacy  over  the  civil  authorities;  but  Pius  V  in     ^•••^^ 
1567  made  it  more  severe  than  ever.    Finally,  however,  in  1770, 
owing  to  the  opposition  of  both  Catholic  and  Protestant  rulers, 
Qement  XIV  discontinued  its  publication. 

The  militant  spirit  of  the  Church  had  brought  victory  to  her 
banners  in  the  great  struggles  of  the  bygone  centuries.    That  TiwOona- 
spirit  was  now  revived.    The  onslaught  upon  Protestantism  was  ^mXixin 
about  to  b^fin.    Among  the  instruments  and  forces  with  which  thtitui- 
the  Church  assailed  the  schismatics  the  most  important  were  the  ityof  tiM 
Inquisition,  the  Jesuits,  the  Co"ti<;f|  ni  Tr^nt,  tVi#>  ]^^^-^c^  anH  th<>  oimrch 


re 


i 


ormmg  popes.    As  one  of  these  instruments  the  Council  has 
netimes  oeen  over-estimated.    Although  it  is  claimed  that  the 


s(xnetimes  been  over-estimated.    Although 

assembly  represented  the  universal  church,  there  were  present 

in  the  final  sessions  nnp  hnnHrpd  and  eiphty-^even  Ttalian  prelates. 
whereas  only  eiyhty-nn^  rpprpg<>nf<^H  all  the  rp«8t  ni  rViriQtpnHn^. 

r,  among  the  forces  at  the  command  of  the  Church  in  the 
struggle  for  her  lost  possessions,  the  Cbuncil  was  essentially  de- 
fensive, while  the  others  were  essentially  offensive.  Viewed 
from  the  standpoint  of  the  Papacy  the  work  of  the  Council  was 
a  necessary  part  of  the  general  strategy.  But  defense  in  itself 
is  seldom  sufficient  to  win  victory  even  in  religious  warfare.  In 
conclusion  it  may  be  said  that  the  fact  that  the  history  of  the 
Council  b  the  history  of  Europe  for  almost  a  quarter  of  a  cen- 
tury has  been  scarcely  indicated.  Many  of  the  political  and 
religious  currents  that  agitated  its  meetings  have  not  been  no- 
ticed. But  having  seen  something  of  the  main  outlines  of  its 
proceedings  we  must  now  devote  our  attention  to  the  work  of  the 
reforming  popes  and  to  the  activity  of  the  Jesuits  in  the  second 
half  of  the  century. 


CHAPTER  XXIII 


1666-72 


Origin, 
Character, 
aadAlmi 
of  PluV 


THE  TRIUMPH  OF  MIUTANT  CATHOUCISIC 

1.  The  Reforming  Popes. 

2.  The  Jesuit  Reformation. 

3.  The  Inquisition. 

4.  The  Index. 

THE  effect  of  Protestant  aggression  was  to  result  in  an 
equally  violent  outbreak  of  Catholic  zeal.  The  popeL 
abandoned  the  enconraf^^m^^tit  /^f  »i^#>  fipe  ^^g  agd  discarded  Thek 
temporal  policy,  which  in  the  years  gone  by  had  continually  in- 
volved not  only  Italy  but  the  greater  part  of  Europe  in  confusion, 
in  order  to  devote  their  energies  to  far  sterner  duties.  Ancient 
pollutions  were  to  be  washed  away,  heretical  lapses  to  be  pun- 
ished, and,  if  possible,  the  vast  secession  beyond  the  Alps  to  be 
met  and  overcome.  All  this  was  not  easy  of  accomplishment 
Even  the  conduct  of  affairs  with  the  Catholic  powers,  France 
and  Spain,  presented  the  most  delicate  and  difficult  tasks.  But 
the  popes  had  one  great  advantage  over  their  schismatic  op- 
lents.^  Each  in  his  turn  was  the  sole  commander  QJ  all  thg 
forces  at  his  disposal,  while  those  of  the  enemy  were  always  scat- 
terea  ana  oitentimes  sintagonistic  to  each  other. 

PiusV^(  1565-72)  was  well-fitted  to  begin  the  Catholic  cam- 
paign.  He  was  an  Italian  of  lowly  birth  ^who  had  entered  a 
~  orninican  conv^^tj^^^"  ^^  ^^^  ^"^  fourteen  years  of  age.  The 
revived  Inquisition  had  now  been  at  work  in  Italy  for  almost  a 
quarter  of  a  century.  Somewhat  ineffective  at  first  it  had  be- 
come an  exceedingly  vigorous  institution.  And  Pius,  as  Cardinal 
Michele  GhislierL  had  demonstrated  himself  to  be  an  effective 
administrator  as  tfie  inquisitor-general  at  Rome.  It  was  well- 
known,  too,  that  his  personal  life  was  free  trom  all  reproach  of 
insincerity  and  immorality.  Thegp  tViinprg  it  wag^  ^^t^uf\w  a^^l* 
ijy  and  austerity  of  character^  that,  upon  the  death  of  Pius  IV, 
Tim  out  as  tne  man  for  the  hour. 


pointer 


I  was  determined  to 


consider  nothing  so  much  as  religion  and  purity  of  faith,"  said 
Cardinal  Borromeo,  who  had  much  to  do  with  the  election  of 
the  new  pope.     "  I  was  well  acquainted  with  the  piety,  the  irre- 

444 


THE  TRIUMPH  OF  MILITANT  CATHOLICISM         445 


proachable  life,  and  the  devout  spirit  of  the  cardinal  of  Ales- 
sandria. I  thought  no  other  could  more  fitly  administer  the 
Christian  commonwealth,  and  so  I  used  my  best  efforts  in  his  ^^^^^ 
favor."  When  the  triple  crown  had  been  placed  upon  his  head 
Pius  did  not  abandon  his  ascetic  practices.  "  Under  his  gorgeous 
vestments/'  says  Klacaulay,  "he  wore  day  and  night  the  hair 
shirt  of  a  simple  friar,  walked  barefoot  in  the  streets  at  the  head 
of  processions,  found,  even  in  the  midst  of  his  most  pressing 
avocations,  time  for  private  prayer,  often  regretted  that  the  public 
duties  of  his  station  were  unfavorable  to  the  growth  of  holiness, 
and  edified  his  flock  by  innumerable  instances  of  htunility,  char- 
ity, and  forgiveness  of  personal  injuries,  while,  at  the  same  time, 
he  upheld  the  authority  of  his  see,  and  the  unadulterated  doc- 
trines of  his  Church,  with  all  the  stubbornness  and  vehemence 
of  Hildebrand."  When  borne  aloft  in  the  sedia  in  triumphal 
procession  he  was  ptil^  th^  iin;^«^«^timingr  friar  *  and  often  tears  were 
seen  to  stream  from  his  eyes  as,  lost  in  silent  ecstasy,  he  bowed 
his  head  before  the  Host  exposed  upon  the  lighted  altar.  Little 
wonder  that  in  a  few  decades  after  his  death  he  was  canonized. 
To  few  popes  does  Catholicism  owe  more  than  to  St  Pius.  Ruth- 
'^^?  in  h^^  persecution  of  heresy  he  was  also  relentl<^<^if  f"  |i|g 
junishment  ot  immoranty.  TJuxeJ^skg  confrnnt^H  th^  Papery 
at  this  mne  —  llie  (!Uf  I'Viiijf  out  of  the  Tridentine  decrees."  the, 
war  against  f  lUie&Llllliyil,  and  IM  rcptilse  ot  the  lurky^  The 
urst  two  especially  ciauned  the  attention  ot  fins.  The  new  pope 
made  extensive  use  of  the  Jesuits  in  the  execution  of  his  plans. 
With  great  precision  and  punctuality  they  fulfilled  his  orders; 
and  before  long  they  had  displaced  all  others  as  the  diplomatic 
agents  of  the  Papacy. 

No  obstacle,  on  the  part  of  the  Catholics,  had  been  encountered  Tte 
by  the  canons  of  the  Council  of  Trent.    But  the  reformatory  ^J^STJJ 
enactments  came  into  conflict  with  other  interests.    Pius  IV  had  piu 
requested  every  Catholic  prince  to  give  to  the  decrees  the  validity 
of  secular  law.    Such  a  request  was  not  so  radical  a  demand  as 
it  would  be  if  it  were  made  to-day.    Little  distinction  was  then 
made  between  ecclesiastical  and  secular  affairs.    The  principal 
Italian  states  and  Poland  and  Portugal  had  acceded  to  the  re- 
quest without  reservation.    In  Germany,  though  they  never  ob- 
tained imperial  recognition,  they  had  found  acceptance  at  the 
hands  of  the  Catholic  princes.    In  Spain  they  had  been  published 
by  Philip  ^I  with  the  reservation  that  they  were  not  to  impinge 
upon  the  prerogatives  of  the  crown.    Their  publication  in  the 
Netherlands,  as  we  shall  see  when  we  come  to  the  revolt  of  those 
GOuntrieSf  met  with  such  vigorous  opposition  that  the  reservation 


446 


THE  CATHOUC  REFORMATION 


UW5-78 


The  Work 
of  Oulo 
Borromeo 


was  made  that  they  were  not  to  impair  any  of  the  privil^es 
enjoyed  by  the  provinces.  The  decrees  met  with  much  opposi- 
tion in  France.  The  religious  wars  were  just  beginning  in  that 
country  and  Catherine  de'  Medici  was  rductant  to  offend  the 
loyalists,  who  were  opposed  to  any  diminution  of  the  Gallican 
liberties,  or  the  Huguenots,  who,  of  course,  were  opposed  to  the 
decrees  in  general.  So  she  promised  to  cany  out  certain  of  the 
provisions  without  publishing  them  in  their  entirety.    Prart^^lly 

the  Hprri>pft  hi^amp  effi^^ve.  in   evftiy  ratl^nljc  country  before 

f}ip  »ViiY(f  1"^rttr  f^f  ^^  century  had  been  reached.  The  ref orma- 
tion  of  the  Church  then  b^;an  in  earnest,  nus  V  proceeded  with 
great  zeal  to  eliminate  the  remaining  abuses.    All  future  alien* 

ttiftr  ^^  rViiirr[|  p^oerty  was  forbidden  under  whatever  tide 
r  with  whatever  pretext  Dispensations  from  the  operation  of 
ecclesiastical  laws  and  regulations  were  reduced  to  the  minimum. 
Indulgences  were  r^ga^ded  with  disfavor;  at  least  their  issuance 
was  judged  to  be  inexpedient  for  thelime  being,  and  some  of  those 
already  proclaimed  were  partially  recalled.  The  deposition  was 
HiylarpH  nf  all  bjshpps  whn  should  fail  to  reside  in  theu*  dioceses; 
and  heavy  penalties  were  announced  tor  an  priests  who  should 
fail  to  remam  in  their  parishes  or  to  see  that  the  services  of  the 

luly  perlormed.  And  so  strict  were  the  rules  for 
the  rPYu1;^tion  of  monastic  orders  that  on  the  part  ot  the  mem- 
bers  loud  complaint  arose.  Kind  and  gentle  to  all  whose  Catholi- 
cism was  unquestioned,  Pius  was  pitiless  in  his  persecution  of 
those  suspected  of  heresy.  Bom  under  the  shadow  of  thejuqui- 
sitXQP,  and  early  imbued  with  its  principles,  he  greatly  stimulated 
its  fictivi^v.  Cases  of  heresy  of  long  standing,  as  well  as  those 
of  the  day,  were  hunted  down  and  rooted  out  with  sanguinary 
eagerness  and  inexhaustible  zeal.  So  devoted  was  the  Pope  to 
the  reformation  of  immorality,  the  neglect  of  duty,  and  the  extir- 
pation of  dissent,  that  in  return  for  assistance  rendered  him  in 
these  enterprises,  he  made  Cosimo  de'  Medici,  a  great  ruler  but 
a  most  immoral  man,  grand  duke  of  Tuscany. 

Any  account  of  the  work  of  the  Catholic  Reformation  that 
failed  to  notice  the  work  of  Carlo  Borromeo  (1538-84)  would  be 
incomplete.  True  it  is  that  created  cardinal  and  appointed  to 
the  important  archiepiscopate  of  Milan,  when  only  twenty-two 
years  of  age,  by  the  nepotism  of  his  uncle,  the  reigning  pontiff, 
he  lived  in  Rome  until  the  severity  of  Pius  V  compelled  him  to 
reside  in  his  diocese.  But  no  one  can  fail  to  admit,  from  the 
Catholic  point  of  view,  the  holiness  of  his  character.  His  work 
in  the  Council  of  Trent  we  have  already  briefly  noticed ;  and  we 
have  seen  that  hfijiad  much  to  do  with  the  election  that  placed 


THE  TRIUMPH  OF  MILITA-NT  CATHOLICISM 


447 


lAeO-85 


Pius  V  upon  the  papal  throne.  When  he  went  to  live  at  Milan 
he  devoted  himself  with  incessant  industry  and  passionate  energy 
to  the  rf frfcttnatini^  qj  hig  Hinrpy.  He  did  uot  scTuple  to  use  the 
severest  penalties  to  extinguish  heresy.    And  he  was  equally  ^ 

trrmintii  ^tr  it^fminntt  immnrnlity  f*'^'"  ^^^  ^""'*°  ^^  ^^*h  fltTfY 
And  l^^ty  in  his  district.  He  was  Constantly  traveling  up  and 
down  his  diocese  in  every  direction.  Even  the  most  remote  vil- 
lages in  high  and  lonely  valleys  were  visited  by  him  in  person. 
When  the  plaguy  raged  in  Milan  he  dir^ted  the  care  of  the 
afflicted  and  the  bufial  of  the  de^^  ^^  fre  ntmost  peril  M  his  lite- 
He  lies  buried,  dressed  in  pontifical  robes,  in  the  crypt  of  the 
great  cathedral  at  Milan  from  which  he  had  banished  all  the 
gorgeous  tombs,  the  banners,  and  the  other  paraphernalia  of 
ostentatious  display. 

Gr^ry  XIII  (1572-S5)  baH  hepn  a,  man  nf  rather  easv-pning 

iJTpnf itiTTMi :  immoral,  while  still  a  layman,  though  not  dissolute,  TteWoxk 
and  always  lively  and  cheerful  as  a  priest.  Yet  even  a  man  who  ^^q^ 
had  no  touch  of  austerity  in  his  make-up  was  unable  to  resist  the 
powerful  and  pitiless  reforming  tendency  of  the  time.  His  own 
Ufe  became  not  only  irreproachable  but  even  worthy  of  imita- 
tion. It  was  in  his  pontificate  that  the  Jesuits  attained  their 
greatest  influence  in  the  affairs  of  the  Church.  He  was  par- 
ticularly interested  in  providing  for  a  better  system  of  religious 
education,  and  it  is  doubtful  if  there  was  a  single  Jesuit  school 
in  the  world  to  the  support  of  which  he  did  not  contribute.    In 

at  Rome  separate  rooms  were  provided  for  three  hundred  and 
sixty  students  and  instruction  was  given  in  every  leading  Euro- 
pean language.  He  assisted  the  Ger^^n  ("r^llp^<>  tViat  was  already 
established  in  the  papal  capital;  and,  in  the  same  city,  fpi^"^**^ 

one  for  the  (Ire^lfg  flyifl  Tin^^^"'*'  ^"^*'  ^^^  ^"0'^''-h       No  less  than 

twrjity  twe  Jniiit  tinlhgrg  nurrH  thrir  origip  »^  hi*!  interest,  ant 
irality.    Gregory  was  most  fertile  in  expedients  for  the  ex- 
tinction of  the  Protestants.    He  lent  ^^  ^r\  pViili'p  TT  it^  the 
Ne^^rl^ncjs,  to  t^f  Tflt^^^^^  ^  ^fJCIT  1"  TTt-on/^^^  i»/h;/^h  he  had 

helped  to  found,  and  in  Ire}^nd  he  eny^^uray ed  several  ingnrrer- 
tions  apinst  Elizabeth,     And,  finally,  it  was  larpdv  due  to  his 

•Jons  that  the  TnAHnr^hl.^  Armajlfl  QPf  <^t^|1  fr^r  T7«g1o«^  The 
rpform  o(  the  ral^^n^^ar  is  anntliy|-  instance  of  the  ^ssidi:|fty<^  rare 
with   whi<*j^   1^^  InnlfeH    aft^j-   the  interests  p|   th^   ^nrrh.      The 

Julian  calendar,  adopted  by  Julius  Caesar  and  subsequently 
amended,  was  in  use  at  that  time.  It  made  each  calendar  year 
longer  by  eleven  minutes  and  fourteen  seconds  than  the  true 
solar  year.    This  error  amounted  to  a  day  in  every  one  hundred 


448 


THE  CATHOLIC  REFORMATION 


1978-86 


TteAetlT- 
itroftiM 
Jetnltt 
mnder 


and  twenty-eight  years.  By  decrees  of  several  of  the  coundls 
certain  of  the  festivals  of  the  Church  had  been  definitely  related 
to  particular  seasons  of  the  year.  These  rdations  had  been  dis- 
placed by  the  operation  of  the  defective  calendar.  The  reforma- 
tion of  the  calendar  had  thus  been  made  imperatively  necessary. 
An  Italian  bishop,  Luigi  Lilio,  proposed  a  method  of  amendment 
All  the  important  universities  reported  favorably  upon  the  plan 
which  was  then  submitted  to  a  minute  examination  by  a  special 
commission  appointed  for  the  purpose.  The  most  active  director 
of  the  entire  proceedings  was  the  scholarly  Cardinal  Sirleta 
Finally  the  new  calendar  was  proclaimed  in  a  bull,  which  Grqnoiy 
issued  on  February  13,  1582,  with  great  solemnity.  No  Protes- 
tant country  adopted  it  at  once;  England  and  her  colonies  con- 
formed to  it  in  1753 ;  and  Sweden  did  so  still  later.  Russia  and 
the  other  States  of  Greek  Christendom  are  the  only  Christian 
countries  that  still  decline  to  accept  it  The  Gregorian  calendar 
is  not  perfect.  It  exceeds  the  true  solar  year  by  twenty-six 
seconds,  an  error  that  amounts  to  a  day  in  three  thousand  three 
hundred  and  twenty-three  years.  Not  the  least  of  Gregory's 
services  was  the  encouragement  he  gave  to  the  work  of  Philip 
Neri  (1515-95),  the  beloved  saint  of  cheerful  temper,  playful 
irony,  shrewd  mother  wit,  unfailing  courtesy  and  kindly  heart, 
whose  devotion  to  the  sick  and  the  poor  won  for  him  the  title  of 
Apostle  of  Rome. 

~  Owing  to  the  absence  in  Spain  of  many  members  of  the  fully 
professed  there  was  aa  interregnum  of  two  years  in  the  general- 
ship of  the  Jesuits  when  Loyola  died.  In  this  situation  Lainez 
was  made  vicar-general  of  the  order.  He  was,  as  we  have  seen, 
a  man  of  dialectic  skill  and  oratorical  power.    It  was  not  long 

before  he  proved  himself  to  be  ^jylitipan  nf  ^^^  """filial  v^^- 
f\l)fY  ^p^  aHapt^b^1if;y     In  1 5 58  he  became  the  sf^miH  gpn^r^jj^f 

th^  ordyl  At  the  Council  of  Trent  he  had  successfully  exerted 
his  skilf  and  power  in  behalf  of  the  papal  supremacy.  His 
vision  of  the  activities  of  the  society  extended  far  beyond  that  of 
the  founder;  and  because  of  the  fact  that  he  directed  its  energies 
into  additional  fields  he  may  be  r^arded  as  the  actual  founder 
of  the  Order  as  it  came  to  be.  Under  him  the  far-reaching 
powers  of  the  General  were  increased  still  further,  the  ^i^nce 
with  the  I^apacy  oecame  stm  mbi'fe  irithtfate,  and  the  close  relati^ 
of  th^  ordf  r  ^^  ^^^  cabinets  of  the  variQ^«s  <?^thn1ir  r^^mtHes  be- 
came estaMig1i<*(|,  The  entrance  of  the  Jesuits  into  France  met 
with  opposition  at  first.  Their  Spanish  origin  did  not  count  in 
their  favor  in  that  country.  The  colleges,  particularly  the  Sor- 
bonne,  were  bitterly  jealous  of  them.    But  in  the  Colloquy  of 


THE  TRIUMPH  OF  MILITANT  CATHOLICISM 


449 


cnur. 


1M64S 


Poissy,  in  1561,  in  which  Lainez  took  8|  l^ft^^'^ff  p^^***,  thffY  WfiP 
yiY**"  ^tg^l  rifcoynition.  Three  years  later  they  were  allowed  to 
:each  in  France.  They  possessed  a  remarkable  preacher  in  Ed- 
nond  Augier,  who  won  the  admiration  even  of  Huguenots ;  and 
in  Maldonat  they  produced  a  teacher  whose  biblical  expositions 
attracted  multitudes  of  the  youth  of  the  land  and  held  them  spell- 
x>und.  From  Lyons  and  Paris,  where  they  first  made  themselves 
secure,  they  spread  all  over  the  country  and  everywhere  strength- 
ened the  spirit  of  opposition  to  the  Huguenots.  Into  the  ^ether- 
la^Hg^  y^<^   »Vi^  J*>r"'t?  pi>^of^of.>^    »v.o;f  grsi;  center  being  the 

[x>ll^e  of  Douai.  By  1562  they  had  established  themselves  at 
Antwerp,  Brussels  and  Lille,  and  they  had  gftf"^^^  ^^nntrnl  nf  tiir 
LJniversitY  ftf  Loir"'''"  -  It  was  in  Germany  that  Catholicism  had 
suffered  its  first  great  losses.  In  1551  Le  Jay  and  twelve  of  the 
fesuits  arrived  in  Vienp^i  Yyhere,  befor^  long,  thev  secured  C9n- 
trol  of  thft  university.  Five  years  later  the  Jesuits  were  also 
donunant  in  the  nn^yprQitigg  nf  rn1r)orne  and  Ingolstadt.  From 
these  three  great  centers  they  b^^n  to  spread  all  over  the  Em- 
pire. This  was  the  first  successful  counter -movement  against 
Protestantism  in  Germany.  In  their  schools  and  collies  the 
Jesuits  did  not  neglect  secular  instruction,  but  their  chief  energies 
were  devoted  to  theology.  They  held  public  disputations  that 
were  brilliant  and  dignified.  In  accordance  with  the  instructions 
Df  Lainez  they  gave  their  best  teachers  to  the  youth  of  the  land. 
It  was  the  general  opinion  that  young  people  learned  more  in  six 
tnonths  from  them  than  they  did  in  two  years  from  other  teachers. 
So  Protestants  sent  their  children  to  the  Jesuit  schools.  Special 
schools  were  established  for  the  poor.  Thus  was  the  great  Revo- 
lution outflanked  in  its  own  fastnesses  and  its  conquests  not  only 
stopped  but  actually  diminished.  When  Loyola  died  thirteen 
Jesuit  provinces  had  been  established  and  more  than  one  hundred 
oollq;es  and  houses.  In  this  growth  Lainez  had  borne  an  im- 
portant part  When  he  died  in  1565  he  left  behind  him  eighteen 
provinces,  one  hundred  and  thirty  collies,  and  3,500  members. 
The  third  general  of  the  order,  Frany;iRrr>  H<*  T^^ypja  ( 1565-72), 

nnhlimian  whn  had  been  made  viceroy  of  Cata-  TteJm 
who,  upon  the  death  of  his  father,  had  become  duke  ^2ImL 
of  Gandia.  Inclined  in  his  early  years  toward  a  monastic  life 
bis  tendency  in  that  direction  was  increased  by  the  solemn  funeral 
&£  the  wife  of  Charles  V,  the  Empress  Isabella.  After  the  death 
of  his  own  wife  he  entered  the  Jesuit  order.  Because  of  his 
temperamental  predilection  to  melancholy  he  was  less  of  an  ini^^- 
ator  than  his  two  predecessors  in  the  generalate. 


450 


THE  CATHOLIC  REFORMATION 


16M-iei6 


Vb«JMii- 
Ito  under 
litroiirlui 


TlMJetn- 
itt  Under 
Ao«iiaTlT» 


and  vigor.  He  contributed  much  to  the  work  of  perfecting  the 
organization  of  the  society,  and  Ao  hipi  was  due  ity  fir|n  ^^H- 
liftV^IJiriit  in  Spain  I  ^?)^^  i^  cannot  rightly  be  said  that  he  shares 
with  Loyola  and  Lainez  the  title  of  being  one  of  the  founders  of 
the  order.  His  ^h^^f  <"<^^^^fit  lilYi  V?rY^^Hyi  in  tht  y^irrV  irf 
tcasbiligft.  and  he  was  responsible  in  no  slight  d^^e  for  the 
foundation  of  that  system  of  education  that  was  to  be  **  pregnant 
with  results  of  almost  matchless  importance." 

Evegird  Mp^riirian  (1573-80)  was  a  Fleming  whom  Gregory 
XirlcwnpSeduie  Jesuits  to  accept  as  xheir  fourth  general. 

Tf7  Wff  tl  Wt'^^  nnd  irresol^lt<^  man  who  resijpied  the  HirgrHgn 

rJ  ftiA  «^^i'a^^  jp|r>  other  iiands^  Trouble  broke  out  in  the  Eng- 
lish college  at  l^oi^f-  due.  itwa&  allied,  to  the  fact  that  the 
esuit  instructors  induced  the  most  prbmising  students  to  become 
members  of  their  society  and  thereby  diverted  them  from  their 
intended  missionary  activity  in  the  British  Isles.  After  much 
debate  it  was  decided  to  send  Robert  Parsons  (1546-1610)  and 
Edmund  Campion  (1540-81)  to  England.  Strictly  enjoined  to 
keep  themselves  aloof  from  political  affairs  they  started  upcxi 
their  perilous  undertaking  and  entered  England  by  different 
routes  and  in  disguise.  The  romantic  and  thrilling  story  of  the 
mission  must  be  passed  over  very  briefly.  Parsons,  a  former 
fellow  of  Oxford,  was  energetic  and  ingenious,  a  skilful  in- 
triguer, an  exceptionally  able  writer,  an  unsurpassed  contro- 
versialist, and  he  possessed  a  winning  power  of  conversatioa 
The  saintly  Campion  had  a  most  attractive  personality  and  he 
was  a  disputant  of  extraordinary  power  and  an  eloquent  preacher. 
Other  priests  took  part  in  the  English  mission.  Many  wavering 
Catholics  were  instilled  with  new  zeal  for  their  old  faith  and 
even  Protestants  were  won  over.  Campion,  with  several  other 
priests,  after  being  cruelly  tortured,  was  put  to  death  at  Tyburn. 
But  Parsons  escaped  into  Normandy.  Aftw  that  the  mission 
became  involved  in  politics.  It  did  much  to  encourage  the  cause 
of  Mary  Queen  of  Scots  against  Elizabeth  and  to  promote  the 
Spanish  invasion  of  England.  At  Mercurian's  death  the  Society 
numbered  5,000  members. 

In  the  person  of  Claudio  Acquaviva  (1581-1615),  gon  of  a. 
Neapolitan  nftt?^p-  [^  was  no  man  oi  indecision  who  succeeded  to 
the  control  of  the  Jesuits.  Only  thirty-eight  years  of  age,  he 
was  the  youngest  general  that  had  yet  been  elected.  He  was 
the  first  general,  too,  who  was  not  a  Spanish  subject.  Quiet 
and  unostentatious,  even  humble  in  his  outward  aspect,  he  was 
nevertheless  a  man  of  indomitable  will,  unswerving  purpose  and 
undaunted  courage,  one  of  the  ablest  legislators  and  most  effec- 


THE  TRIUMPH  OF  MILITANT  CATHOLICISM 


451 


tive  administrators  of  his  age.  With  a  hand  of  steel  in  a 
velvet  glove  he  g-^shed  a  most  threatening  oi^t^r^ilf  nf  insi^j^pi^i- 
pation  m  the  society  in  5^pain.  Acquayiva  was  also  practically 
th<>  atittifir  yf  file  f^atio  Studiorufh^  for  to  his  initiative  and 
supervision  -was  due  the  conception  and  execution  of  this  authori- 
tative embodiment  of  the  educational  system  of  the  Jesuits. 
Published  in  1599  it  is  still  the  obligatory  guide  of  the  method 
and  spirit  of  study,  though  not  necessarily  of  the  matter,  in  the 
Jesuit  colleges.  It  provides  for  three  collie  classes,  the 
supretmi  fframmaitca.  tne  humamtas,  and  the  rnetarica  et  phl^ 


l^sophia,  the  first  two  of  which  were  each  designed  to  be  com- 
pleCMl  in  a  single  year  and  the  other  in  the  same  or  a  longer 
space  of  time.  They  presupposed  a  preparation  that  corresponds 
in  a  large  d^^e  to  that  given  in  a  modem  Latin  high  school. 
Their  scope  is  indicated  by  their  titles.  The  three  dasses  in- 
cluded collateral  studies  that  gave  the  historical,  geographical, 
ethnographical,  critical,  and  other  learning  requisite  for  the 
proper  understanding  of  the  classical  writings  prescribed  by  the 
curriculum.  The  various  authors  were  selected  v/ith  the  view 
of  furthering  the  purposes  of  the  diflFerent  classes.  The  twenty- 
five  hours  each  week  that  constituted  the  class  work  of  the 
Jesuit  collies  were  practically  devoted  exclusively  to  the  study 
of  works  in  the  Greek  and  Latin  tongues;  but  at  that  time  the 
classical  languages  and  literatures  and  the  medieval  theological 
works  written  in  those  tongues  were  almost  the  only  instruments 
of  collie  education.    The  animating  spirit  of  the  Ratio  is  wdl 

the,  savingr  nf  T^vnla.— "  Let  us  aTTTEl 

le  exercise  of  individual  thought  was  discouraged. )!/ Tradition 
rather  thatt  speculation  was  promoted.    At  Pest  it  w'as  the  cus^ 

t^tancnip   nt    e^^q   trxi^  pi\\y^r   Ihan    the   <u^^r^|i    fnr   ni>w   tnith 

with  which  the  svstem  was  concerned.  The  generalate  of  Acqua- 
viva  substantially  corresponded  with  the  iloodtide  of  the  militant 
movement  of  Catholicism  that  was  so  largely  the  work  of  the 
Jesuits;  and  it  witnessed  the  acme  of  the  Order.  Recent  and 
rapid  as  had  been  the  rise  of  the  society  it  had  nevertheless 
become  established  in  every  Catholic  country  and  inaugurated 
missions  in  Protestant  lands  and  in  the  remotest  parts  of  the 
known  world.  It  had  made  itself  the  most  formidable  force  in 
the  ecclesiastical  affairs  of  the  time.  In  its  colleges  many  of 
the  leading  rulers,  statesmen,  and  military  commanders  of  the 
next  generation  were  being  educated.    ]Mpv#>r  jyfnrp  nr  ginr;^ 

boast  80  large  a  group  of  notihlt 
It  was  also  at  this  time  that,  despite  the  official  de- 


ini^ieis 


-^ 


THE  CATHOLIC  REFORMATION 


iMi^eis 


MWlttof 
jMttttl 


The  Inqnl- 
Utton 


crec  of  its  general  congregation,  the  political  activity  of  ^he 
J^it°  ^^Tfan  tQ  pveryhadyw  its  spiritual  work  and  the  made- 

ftira^le  repiitaHnn  jn  which  it  came  tO  ^e  hel4  began  tn  fjfnw^ 

apace>  But  these  things  were  as  yet  only  in  their  incipient 
stages,  and  they  were  delayed  by  the  well  considered  measures 
o^  Acquaviva  whose  election  came  to  be  r^iarded  as  an  inspira- 

m.    At  his  death  tl^y  5^Qciety  boasted  I3»ii2  members  in 
_       es. 

as  been  the  vogue  to  see  but  little  virtue  in  the  activi^ 
^f  the  Jesuits,  to  attribute  it  to  nothing  nobler  than  self-ag- 
grandizement. But  such  was  not  the  case.  Many  of  the  eariy 
jjesuits  possessed  admirable  qualities  and  rendered  to  civilizatioa 
/services  that  were  not  unimportant.  And  the  society  was  actu- 
ated by  something  more  than  a  vast  passion  for  power.  In 
thought  and  deed  jt  was  not  untouched  by  fl  p^»^^'^"  ^«  jts  mem- 
bers  understood  it7  ipr  the  service  oi  God.  It  was  such  a  pas- 
Sl6tt  that  prevailed  in  their  hearts  when  they  submitted  to  the 
ordeal  of  the  Spiritual  Exercises,  and  it  was  such  a  passion  that 
thrilled  them  when,  like  Campion,  they  suffered  martyrdom  or, 
like  Francis  Xavier,  thev  went  to  the  ends  of  th^  ^P^  ^^ 
what  seemed  to  them  the  bidding  of  heaven.  The  unparalleled 
jpatience,  the  abject  self-elfacement,  and  the  ready  willingness 
to  suffer  every  hardship  and  undergo  the  ultimate  penalty  of 
death  are  not  to  be  found  among  a  body  of  men  actuated  only 
by  the  spirit  of  intrigue  and  self-seeking,  displaying  in  their 
daily  lives  no  moral  virtue,  and  cherishing  in  their  hearts  no 
high  eqthusiasm. 

Something  of  the  revived  Inquisition  in  Italy  and  of  the  re- 
cently established  Inquisition  in  Spain  we  have  seen  in  our 
history  of  the  Protestant  ideas  in  those  peninsulas.  We  must 
stop  here  to  notice  the  activity  of  that  instrument  for  the  pun- 
ishment of  heresy  not  only  in  those  southern  lands,  but  also 
in  countries  north  of  the  Alps  and  the  Pyrenees.  The  Inquisi- 
tion continued  to  operate  in  the  various  Italian  principalities. 

In   V^t^ice  it  wag  nnH^r  fVia  rnr.ff/^]   i^f  |he  rivil   autbnrijh^     In 

Sicily  the  Spanish  Inquisition  in  spite  of  popular  disaffection 
caused  by  the  arbitrary  acts  of  the  officials  in  their  desire  of 
enrichment,  pursued  its  deadly  work  at  ^rst  chiefly  fn  the  pun- 
ishment of  fudaism  };>^t  in^rfagi>g1y  in  pargp-cution  of  Protes-_ 
antism;  and  so  obviously  unjust  were  its  proceedings  that  it 
was  in  frequent  and  serious  conflict  with  both  the  civil  and 
episcopal  authorities.  So  great  was  the  popular  opposition  in 
les  that  it  was  found  impossible  to  introduce  the  Spanisl^ 
Inquisition  there.    Aiid  if  was  not  until  tne  opening  of  the 


THE  TRIUMPH  OF  MILITANT  CATHOLICISM  453 


second  half  of  the  sixteenth  century,  and  then  only  in  a  partial     y[^* 

and  surreptitious  manner,  that  the  Roman  Inquisition  succeeded      

in  supplanting  the  medieval  one.    Jn  Mijyi.  which  had  become  ^••Aawo 
a  part  of  the  Spanish  possessions  m  1529,  the  oapal  Inquisition 
proved  "jjfflt^^^^^^^^T^ io  T>hiHp  I]^jl^"<^ jx>pular  resistance  was 
so  pronounced  that  jie  found  himsptf  <Y>mp^>iiy/^  to  abandon  ^Jlie 

of   estabfehing  a   Spanish   trJ^BngT     T^"^^^  ^^'^   Tigf'^^^^ 

Oirdinal  Borromeo  the  Romian  tribunqj  ^ami^  "T^"*  arHvo  f\ffn 
it  had  been;  and  "it  may  b^  questioned/*  says  Lea,  "whether 
the  Milanese  gainecl  much  in  escaping  the  Spanish  Inquisition." 
JTn  tti^  l^eth^rland^  the  Inquisition  was  even  more  comple^^v 
under  the  control  of  the  government  than  it  was  in  Spain. 
Uiaiies  V  was  thoroughly  a)nvinced  that  heresy  was  due  very 
largely  to  the  immorality  of  the  clergy;  and  he  was  determined 
not  to  put  the  remedy  into  the  hands  of  those  who  were  responsi- 
ble for  the  disease;  and  he  was,  moreover,  convinced  that  it 
would  be  impolitic  to  increase  the  power  of  the  clergy  by  turn- 
ing over  to  them  the  function  of  examination  and  the  wealth  of 
confiscation.  Thf  T^T"'*^^^'^"  ^^^  ramV^  int()  the  Spanish  colo- 
mgs  sQon  fftpr  tfi#>ir  rnnqiipg|^;  and  eveu  a  traveling  tribunal 
0/  the  galleys,  "of  fleets  and  armies,"  was  established.  The 
Portuguese  planted  the  Inquisition  in  the  East  TnHi<Yj  wlipr<>  the 
tribtmal  at  Uoa  tiaa  junscuction  over  all  the  Portuguese  pos- 
sessions beyond  the  Cape  of  Good  Hope.  ^  'P^rarv^^he  Inqui-  ^ 
sition  had  been  supplanted  in  the  prosecution  of  lapses  from 
orthodoxy  by  the  Parlement  of  Paris  and  the  University  of 

Paris.  "^ ■ — ,' 

lheT.ndex  of  1564  remained  the  standard  index,  with  regard  Th« 
both  to  rules  of  censorship  and  the  inclusiveness  of  its  lists, 
until  the  thorough  revision  which  in  1897  Leo  XIII  caused  to 
be  made.  It  was  modified,  however,  from  time  to  time  and  other 
books  were  included  in  its  proscription.  The  use  of  the  print- 
ing press  had  opened  up  a  channel  of  influence  of  the  greatest 
importance.  Public  education  was  beginning  to  pass  from  ec- 
clesiastical to  secular  hands  and  to  widen  very  greatly  in  its 
range.  Words  had  been  given  wings  and  the  "  flying  leaves  " 
carried  heterodox  ideas  into  the  remotest  places  of  every  land. 
It  was  necessary,  so  the  Church  thought,  to  protect  the  faithful 
against  the  baleful  flood  of  heresy.  It  was  her  unmistakable 
duty  to  proscribe  all  books  tainted  with  heresy  and  wherever 
possible  to  bum  them.  Pius  V  had  created  a  Congregation  of 
tl^^  Index  which  became  a  permanent  institutio^  Acting  under 
the  ten  rules  that  had  been  formulated  by  the  Council  of  Trent 
for  the  condemnation  of  books  the  Congr^ation  proceeded  from 


454 


THE  CATHOLIC  REFORMATION 


<^"^*     time  to  time  to 


ISM-ltOO 


Olresai- 


lluttfa- 


Ofttliolip 


tblications  to  the  UstThe  Index 

It  made  between 


ttcT?tT755i 


»ks  that  were  permitted  and  books  that  were  bamied.  The 
aim  of  the  censorship  became  most  oxnprehensive.  It  under- 
took to  pass  a  final  opinion  upon  all  publications.  The  task 
was  beyond  accomplishment  But  the  attempt  was  made  and 
as  a  result  the  Index  has  many  omissions,  is  full  of  curious 
inclusions,  and  is  characterized  by  other  anomalies.    The  Index 

was  a  powerful  W^'^ppn  JV  ^^^  ^H^^l  ^^  militant  rathnTin'snT 

but  It  is  tar  easier  to  suppress  a  book  than  to  put 

vital  thought  that  informs  it.    Thought  is  too  subtie  and  too 

contagious  to  meet  extinction  bv  a^iv  such  piWB  M  jipparaftS! 

Aside  from  the  instrtunents  employed  by  tne  i^nurch  ana  her 
own  inherent  power  there  was  much  in  the  general  conditions 
of  the  time,  as  we  have  seen^  to  help  to  make  successful  the 
militant  activity  of  Catholicism.  The  failure  of  the  uprisings 
of  peasant  and  burgher  had  dissevered  the  social  from  die  reli- 
gious revolution.  Luther  had  proved  to  be  a  more  staunch 
upholder  of  the  power  of  the  secular  rulers  and  a  greater  advo- 
cate of  the  discipline  of  unquestioning  obedience  than  ever  had 
been  the  ancestral  Church.  So  in^their  ffl^f^ry  *""^*^»^^^^  nf 
the  poor  and  oppn  '         ~ 


The  struggle 

tU  IM  p^SflHlS  and  townfolk  for  better  and  more  equitable  con- 
ditions of  daily  life  had  its  effect  also  upon  the  men  who  bore 
the  responsibility  of  secular  government.  Such  men  fell  into 
two  classes,  those  who  had  appropriated  ecclesiastical  property 
and  those  who  had  not.  The  former  had  thrown  in  their  lot 
with  Protestantism.  The  latter,  who  had  remained  Catholic, 
were  influenced  by  the  social  outbreak  to  resist  religious  innova* 
tion  and  to  proceed  to  crush  it  where  it  had  gained  a  footing. 
For  they  regarded  the  social  revolution  not  as  being  caused  by 
rational  reasons,  to  be  met  by  the  granting  of  reasonable  re- 
quests, but  as  being  a  supernatural  message,  a  warning,  an  ap- 
peal. It  was  a  protest  from  heaven  against  the  ecclesiastical 
revolution.  The  ans>yer  to  this  protest  on  \Y^^  p?*t  nf  thi  Cnth 
;es_was  the  lending  o^  the?^  aid  to  |1^fi  ypiHta^f  mnyt^ 
ment  of  Catholiqism.  1  his  was  onlv  one  of  the  many  things 
that,  appealing  to  men*s  superstitions,  made  the  conditions  of 
the  time  favorable  to  that  movement.  The  dread  of  the  en- 
croaching Turk,  the  awe  of  the  comet,  and  the  fear  of  the 
machinations  of  the  devil  through  the  medium  of  the  witches,  as 
we  have  seen,  all  frightened  men  out  of  a  quiet,  sane,  and 
rational  attitude  of  t'nought.    It  is  widely  recognized  that  war 


THE  TRIUMPH  OF  MILITANT  CATHOLICISM         455 

reduces  man  to  the  level  of  the  brute.    Much  more  is  this  de-     ^^f^- 

plorable  effect  true  of  violence  that  transcends  human  conflict.      

When  the  supposed  super-human  forces  of  good  and  evil  are  i******^^ 
engaged  IB  &  seemmgly  visible  conflict  in  whicn  men  are  merely^ 
pawns  people  fall  into  a  panic  of  terror  and  clutch  at  the  nearest 
things  to  them  which  they  believe  to  be  stable  and  enduring. 
This  is  the  key  of  that  element  of  reaction,  outside  Catholicism 
even  more  than  inside  it,  that  made  the  general  situation  of  the 
time  so  favorable  to  the  resurgent  militancy  of  the  Mother 
Church. 


CHAPTER  XXIV 

THE  SPANISH  SXJPRBICACT 

I.  Sptin  under  CSiarlet  of  HapdMUg; 

a.  Spain  and  Eiuope. 

3.  Hie  Regency  of  Phflku 

4.  The  Last  Yean  of  Cnariei. 

5.  Philip  IL 

^^'     /^NE  of  the  greatest  factors  in  the  success  of  mflitawi-  rtftyJi. 

V^  asm  was  the  reputed  oower  of  Spam,     i  ne  gcnii^  of  the 

"^•'"**  Spanish  power  was  attained  under  UuSrles  of  Hapsbuif^  whose 
career  as  the  Emperor  Charles  V  we  have  already  noticed.  It 
b  with  the  story  of  Spain  under  Charles  and  under  his  sea 
Philip  that  we  have  here  to  da 

Spain  is  the  connecting  link  between  Europe  and  Africa. 
Separated  from  the  rest  of  Europe  by  the  diflKcnlt  barrier  of 
the  Pyrinita,  with  its  scanty,  hi^  and  incommodious  passes^ 
TtoVtei-  over  which  no  raihroad  has  yet  been  built,  this  singular  country, 
y^^ff  which  has  for  so  long  hovered  between  civilization  and  bar- 
barism, **  this  land  of  the  green  valley  and  the  barren  mountain, 
of  the  boundless  plain  and  the  broken  sierra,  these  dysian  gar- 
dens of  the  vine,  the  olive,  the  orange,  and  the  aloe,  these  tracks 
less,  vast,  silent,  uncultivated  wastes,  the  heritage  of  the  wild 
bee,"  is  the  home  of  a  people  fundamentally  more  African  than 
European  m  character.  For  despite  the  centuries  of  conflict 
Between  the  Cross  and  the  Crescent  in  the  peninsula  the  Span- 
iards were  closely  related  in  blood  to  the  Moors.  This  country 
of  primitive  passions  was  made  up  of  a  number  of  component 
parts.  There  were  the  Aragonese  lands,  consisting  of  Aragon, 
Catalonia,  and  Valencia,  each  with  its  separate  cortes  and  its  own 
distinct  and  characteristic  institutions,  united  only  by  the  personal 
tie  of  their  monarch.  The  political  institutions  of  these  lands 
had  attained  a  greater  d^^ee  of  development  than  had  those  of 
Castile,  but  in  as  much  as  they  affected  only  comparativdy 
slightly  the  history  of  Spain  it  is  unnecessary  to  dwell  upon 
them.  South  of  the  Pyrenees  was  Cerdagne,  and  across  them, 
but  separated  from  the  rest  of  France  by  the  bleaker  and  more 
effective  barrier  of  the  Corbieres,  was  Roussillon,  which  also 

4S6 


THE  SPANISH  SUPREMACY  457 

belonged  to  Aragon.    At  the  other  end  of  the  Pyrenees  was  that  jqq^* 

part  of  Navarre  which  lay  to  the  south  of  the  mountains ;  while      

to  the  east  were  the  Balearic  Isles,  Sardinia,  and  Sicily.    But  MW-MiS 
by  far  »V  grr^^^il  nf  thr  rnmtitiirnt  pnrtn  nf  Sp'^iTi  iint  ^^g^^i^ 

For  Castile  is  a  central  region,  made  up  principally  of  a  great 
plateau  that  had  but  a  restricted  access  to  the  ocean.  It  was 
almost  inevitable,  in  those  times,  that  the  people  of  such  a  r^on 
should  be  unprogressive  and  conservative  to  a  deplorable  degree. 
They  were  largely  beyond  the  stimulus  of  new  ideas  which  is  so 
powerful  an  impulse  to  progress.  So,  because  it  was  the  most 
important  factor  in  the  history  of  Spain,  it  would  be  well  for 
us  to  examine  somewhat  closely  the  province  of  Castile. 

Having  been  r^^ined  piecemeal  from  the  Moors,  and  con- 
taining as  it  did  a  number  of  peoples  quite  distinct  from  each  Pouueai 
other,  the  laws  of  Castile  were  local  rather  than  national.  The  Sl^i 
cortes  consisted  of  three  estates,  clergy,  nobles,  and  commons,  OafUit 
which  sat  separately  to  discuss  attairs  ot  state.  They  had  no 
power  to  enact  laws,  but  merely  to  offer  suggestions  to  the 
monarch  who  alone  possessed  the  right  of  legislation.  It  is 
true  that  the  commons  possessed  the  right  of  voting  or  refusing 
supplies,  but  the  crown  had  become  so  powerful  that  it  was  able 
to  limit  the  freedom  of  the  cortes  in  essential  respects  and  thus 
greatly  to  lessen  the  danger  of  opposition.  At  Uie  opening  of 
Uie  reign  of  Charles  in  15 16  the  cortes,  because  of  the  foolish 
arrogance  of  the  king  and  his  Flemings,  assumed  a  less  sub- 
missive attitude  towards  the  crown.  This  insubordination,  ^s 
we  have  seen  in  a  previous  chapter,  jesulted  in  a  rebellion  "^  ♦he 
^^fftili^"  tnwng  When  ^hflrleq  ri^|«sheH  the  comufieros  he  ig- 
nored the  striking  proposals  for  strengthening  the  representative 
system;  and,  despite  his  frequent  requests  for  money,  he  kept 
the  cortes  in  the  position  of  insignificance  to  which  they  had 
been  reduced  by  his  immediate  predecessors.  Local  government 
was  carrj^ij  on  by  the  T|^|iniVtpalifiPQ    whose  powers  were 


where  very  extensive,  and  each  of  whom  was  controlled  very 
laiyely  by  the  correpidpr,  a  supervising  official  appointed  by  tn^^ 
Eixiwn. 

Sole  maker  of  the  laws,  the  king  was  also  the  sole  fountain  jodieui 
ofTusSSi    The  institutions  to  which  his  legal  powers  were  JJJ^^ 
delated  were  ( i )  the  royal  council  which,  owing  to  the  dis-  otitnt 
placement  in  its  memoership  o^  the  feudal  nobles  by  the  modem 
It^sta,  had  acquired  important  juristic  power  and  now  acted 
gs  a  supreme  court  of  appeal ;  (2)  the  oicaldes  de  corteToi  wnicfa 
obe  section  held  irreguiaf^  assizes,  while  the  otner,  m  accom- 


458 


THE  CATHOLIC  REFORMATION 


1875-1648 


TImBocUI 
Hlarmrchy 
of  Oastile 


led  1 


pan3ring  the  crown  from  place  to  place, 
nals ;  (3)  the  two  audiencios,  situated  at  ValladoUd  and  Granada, 
which  w^TA  ri^wxX^  ni  appga^*  (4)  the  corre^idars^  appointed  by 
the  crown  for  long  terms,  each  of  Wnom,  Dy  the  growth  of  the 
royal  power,  had  become  the  virtual  governor  of  the  town  in 
which  he  was 'Staettftnedj^  and  (i^)  the  iimhirmal  fm;iges  who  wm 
iiidgf  tHfe  tCffais  of  the  various  town  charters.  In  addi- 
^rere  were  ecclesiastical  courts  more  or  less  inde- 
>endent 


DMl^ll 


wm  tor  inemserTer  the  approbation  of  the  people. 
The  belief  that  the  administrative  officials  and  the  magistrates 
of  the  law  alike  were  bom  enemies  of  the  weak  and  poor,  that 
they  were  actuated  solely  by  the  motive  of  self-interest,  was  a 
widespread  and  deep-seated  conviction  in  Spain  long  before 
Cervantes  published  his  conclusion  that  public  functions  could 
be  exercised  only  at  the  expense  of  private  virtues  and  that  when 
a  man  entered  office  he  left  behind  him  of  necessity  all  that 
should  have  gone  to  make  him  honest  and  kept  for  him  the 
esteem  of  his  fellow-men.  The  country  yyas  pervaded  bv  the 
spirit  of  resided  skepticism. 

iaving  glanced  brietly  at  the  political  and  leggi  instituticms  of 
Castile  let  us  look  for  a  moment  at  its  social  hierarchy.  At  the 
'iMmmi*'  'vafi  a  t*^Wl1  iHibilit;)L  ranging  from  the  grandees  who 
could  boast  a  long  ancestry  of  noble  birth  to  those  recently  en- 
nobled by  the  crown.  It  had  become  a  rljisa  without  political 
importance,  distinguished  from  the  mass  of  the  people  not  by 
blood,  as  the  Norman  was  distinguished  from  the  Saxon  in  Eng- 
land (for  in  Spain  every  one  deemed  himself  to  be  descended 
from  the  Goths),  but  bv  the  possession  of  wealth.  Every  one 
recognized  as  a  noble  was  also  a  richombre.  Curbed  and  kept 
in  check  by  Ferdinand  and  Isabella  this  upper  stratum  of  society 
regained  something  of  its  former  power  under  Charles  only  to 
lose  still  more  of  it  under  his  son  who  filled  his  courts  and  his 
councils  with  the  legists  of  the  universities.  The  money  which 
the  grandees  acquired,  by  fair  means  and  foul,  was  squandered 
in  extravagant  living.  They  were  often  obliged  to  seek  the 
money-lenders,  and  sometimes,  indeed,  to  alienate  to  them  finan- 
cial rights  over  the  people  who  lived  on  their  lands.  Every  man 
wanted  to  be  a  noble.  This  itch  _^c\r  nftljjli^  ^as  thfi  fp^^^^ 
^dy  of  Spai^^  JMohilitv  lessened  greatly  one's  burden  of 
taxation.  So  Castile  was  filled  with  law-suits  whose  object  was 
to  establish  one's  nobility  and  thus  to  become  exempt  from  a 
due  share  of  the  support  of  the  government.  Below  the  grander 
were  the  hidalgos,  who,  if  they  lived  at  the  court  or  in  the  towns, 


THE  SPANISH  SUPREMACY  459 


1875-1548 


found  service  with  the  greater  nobles,  not  derogatory  to  their 
dignity,  as  squires,  body-guards,  or  duennas;  or  who,  if  they 
remained  in  the  country,  lived  frugally  upon  their  scraps  of 
land,  idle  and  boastful,  sometimes  in  sordid  misery.  HidcUguism 
became  a  lamentable  chivalric  mania,  the  open  sore  of  Spanish 
society  whose  depths  were  probed  for  us  by  Cervantes.  Not 
all  the  hidalgos,  however,  consented  to  stagnate  in  the  pitiful 
idleness  of  rural  life  or  to  become  mere  adornments  of  the  court 
or  the  ante-chambers  of  the  grandees.  The  profession  of  arms, 
the  noble  career  par  excellence,  was  open  to  them.  Yet  the 
alluring  glitter  of  the  soldier's  uniform  led  to  a  precarious  life 
and  generally  ended  in  bitterness  and  want.  Towards  the  end 
of  the  sixteenth  century  the  Spanish  roads  became  infested  with 
military  men,  on  leave  or  discharged,  who,  clad  in  tatters,  begged 
or  robbed  as  the  circumstances  decided.  Afffr  tVi#>  nr^Kiitfy  ni 
the  sword  came  that  of  the  robe.  One  entered  this  class  through 
the  schools  oi  the  various  municipalities  or,  better  still,  through 
the  tmiversity  of  Salamanca  or  that  of  Alcala.  The  student 
life,  only  too  often  one  of  want  and  squalor,  tatters,  shifts  and 
knaveries,  led  to  a  number  of  professions,  especially  those  of 
medicine  and  law.  To  those  trained  in  the  law  there  were  posi- 
tions opened  from  that  of  a  humble  escribano  to  that  of  a 
counselor  of  the  king.  Below  the  nobilitv  ffl"^fi  t^**  mocc  nf  fi^p 
people,  who,  as  did  their  fellows  in  other  couqtrjpj;.  hnr#>  by  faf 
the  heaviest  share  of  the  burden  of  ^avatinn  anH  whn  were  the 
^nly  creative  gpd  productive  workersin  the  lane}.  And  at  the 
very  bottom  was  the  social  ritt-ratt.  th**  arpy  ^^  pr^ypHy  nf  yjf^fi, 
and  of  crime,  such  as  one  may  see  to-day  in  the  vast  numbers  of 
tramps  m  our  own  country  and  in  the  inhabitants  of  our  fast 
increasing  slums. 

The  great  meseta  of  central  Spain  did  not  lend  itself  to  wide- 
spread industrial  activity,  or  even  to  a  general  engagement  in  JSSrir* 
agriculture.    Baked  by  tht  sun  in  summer  and  frozen  in  winter  uidiii. 
the  elevated  plains  of  Castile  are  cultivated  only  with  difficulty,  oondittoa 
The  sterile  soil  compelled  the  Castilians  to  raise  cattle  in  the  of  Spain 
green  foothills  and  in  the  mountainous  valleys.    So  trade  in 
wool  ratl]^  th^  in  grain  became  their  chief  industry.     Com- 
merce  with  the  American  colonies  had  been  confined  to  Cas- 
tilians.   Every  ship  employed  in  that  trade  had  to  enter  and 
leave  the  port  of  Seville.    Spanish  goods  were  forced  upon  the 
colonies  whether  or  no  they  were  wanted.    This  gave  a  sudden 
impetus  to  Spanish  manufactures.    So  for  a  time  Spain  became 

_       [untry.    Spanish    agriculture   was   likewise 

«timulated|  for  the  colomsts  were  idle  and  would  not  plant ;  th^ 


4lSo 


THE  CATHOLIC  REFORMATION 


•t^  <ir 


were  hungry  and  thirsty  and  must:  needs  eat  and  drink.  But 
the  cortea  enacted  grave  economic  UiHiders  into  law.  Agricat 
^''^'^*^  tore  was  sacrificed  for  stockrrearing»  and  serious  limtfatiom 
were  placed  upon  exports  and  imports.  Before  the  acyesiion  of 
Charles  the  country  was  infinitely  bditnd  Italy  in  agriodtim 
and  dtuing  his  reign  it  suffered  a  further  rqjressioiL  In  Ar 
same  period  the  muraf  actuie  of  woolen  dodi,  the  raw  materiil 
of  which  was  Spain's  most  important  amcie  of  eiqx>it,  steadilj 
declined  in  both  quality  and  quantity.  A  similar 
took  place  in  the  manufacture  of  leather,  metal  and  ^ 
and,  indeed,  all  Spain,  f  eH  economically  into  a  backward  condi- 
tion, so  much  so  that  when  we  compare  her  conditkxi  witii  thtt 
of  Italy  or  the  Netherlands  it  appears  even  pidfuL 

Yet  Castile  was  the  center  from  which  not  only  Spain  and 
all  the  new-won  colonies  were  to  be  governed  but  abo  from 
which  the  Netherlands  were  to  be  ruled  and  the  fate  of  Germanj 
to  be  decided.  Spain,  under  the  guidance  of  Gutil^  it  was 
believed,  was  the  chosen  instrument  of  God  for  tihe 
the  ancestral  religion  ii|p  every  AttiMean  land  and 

the,  savingr  nf  T^vnla.         iLet  us  alTTF^  _ 

with  a  childlike  simplicity  wi  great  intensity  ci  fcdiiig; 
The  Castili^  was  utterly  indifferent  to  all  thocq^  and  actinty 
that  lay  beyond  the  narrow  circle  of  his  own  life.  H^  diqihycd 
but  little  aptitude  for  steady  and  well-directed  labor;  and,  as 
was  the  case  with  his  ancestors  the  Goths,  ^r  hBWf  TJi"fllTIP** 

was  vari^  ^^ly  ^^♦^  r^«»KftiHH.«  ^^  ^p1i>n»  ^nm-gy,     "  The  Cm- 


tilian  soul,"  says  Havelock  Ellis,  **  was  great  only  when  it  opened 
itself  to  the  four  winds  and  scattered  itself  across  the  world." 
Sustained  and  systematic  labor  was  distasteful  to  the  Castilian. 
He  had  the  creative  power,  the  power  of  initiative-  in  ah^nirfupf 

to  comjiktion.    The  routine  toil  of  merchant  and  'oi  manual 


laDorer  he  regarded  with  contempt  And  yet 
and,  indeed,  oain  he  lyaa  aM<^  tn  ^Ann^  wi^|^  j|  |iia»^>i1i>««  **^^^«inj 
^StgicisOLhas  always  been  a  marked  element  in  the  philosophy 
of  Spain  and  it  has  not  left  its  religion  altogether  untouched 
Together  with  these  things  went  a  ^^r»ai«  r^pgy^fy  fny  |ct^ 
J^Hinc  ^^^  ^  prf>»^""^^ri  Inuft  *^^*'  often  rose  to  passion,  for 
formalism  and  ritual  and  ceremony.  The  whole  o^  SoanMi 
life  was  Interpenetrated  by  an  Oriental  ceremonialjjffp-  ft  would 
be  a  profound  mistake  in  any  estimate  of  the  Castilian  character 
to  ignore  the  lasting  results  of  the  mingling  of  Spanish  and 
Moorish  blood  and  of  the  fusion  of  their  civilizations. 
Beyond  the  western  ocean  there  lay  the  vast,  uncharted 


THE  SPANISH  SUPREMACY  461 


UM-lMt 


ocdonial  possessions  of  Spain.  The  great  archipelago  that 
stretches  from  Florida  to  Venezuela  had  been  given  the  name 
of  the  West  Indies  by  Columbus,  who  thought  he  had  discovered 
a  new  route  to  India,  and  who,  in  the  name  of  Spain,  took  pos- 
session of  the  larger  islands.  Before  long  there  began  the  ex-  Tht 
iloitati^yn  ftf  t^**  icIanHc  fnr  ffi#>  H#^T]fifit  ^^  ^IH?"      Many  of  their   ^^'^^ 

dtants  were  sent  to  Europe  and  sold  into  slavery,  while 
others  were  compelled  to  work  in  the  joinfi^  which  the  Spaniards 
opened  in  the  islands.  Before  the  accession  of  Charles  perma- 
nent occupation  did  not  reach  beyond  the  islands.  But  explora- 
tion had  been  made  from  Florida  to  the  River  Platte,  and  Spain 
had  claimed  for  herself  the  shores  of  the  Pacific*  With  the 
opening  of  tl^e  ^^^^  of  Charles  the  age  of  dig<"f^v^rY  p^*^^^  ^"^fl 

ibat  of  conquest  a"^  nrpaniy^j;jr>n       Thi*  inRipmifirant  gpttlempnfjs 

on  the  mainland  were  so  rapidly  expanded  that  at  the  time  of 
his  abdication  Spanish  conquest  and  settlement  had  almost 
reached  its  greatest  extent.  The  great  conquests  were  princi- 
pally the  work  of  adventurers,  like  Cortes  and  Pizarro,  who  set 
forth  upon  their  own  initiative  from  the  older  settlements.  The 
conquest  pf  Mtninn  was  effected  in  1520  by  Hernando  Cortes. 
In  1527  Francisco  Pizarro,  after  enduring  terrible  hardships, 
reached  the  coast  nf  Ppm.  and  in  a  few  years  that  country  be- 
came  the  center  of  Spanish  power  in  South  America.  The  first 
iSpamsh  lUvasluil  Uf  Ltuis  occurred  m  1535  wiien  an  expedition 
was  sent  there  in  search  of  gold ;  but  a  regular  conquest  and  set- 
tlement was  not  attempted  until  1540,  and  then  it  required  almost 
a  hundred  years  of  warfare  to  reduce  the  country.  *  A»  (\rct^  from 
1521  to  1535,  the  colonies  were  governed  by/'^f^^^^^HH-  ^^  courts 
of  justice,  but  that  method  proved  unsatisfactory.  The  system 
of  vicerois  was  then  inaugurated.  Therejvere.jQ]UL4;cfiaLjdceifc 
^  ^difisifio  (or  New  Spain),  New  Gramada^  ^pr^° 
and  Peru.  At  the  abdication  of  Charles  the  established 
and  organized  possessions  of  the  Castilian  crown  were  Mg^UfiP 
and  Gmtral  America,  Venezuela  and  New  Granada,  Peru,  Bo- 
Uvia  and  norllk^fll  giile"!  Argentina  and  Paraguay  weTC  jusl 
being  settled;  and  Laiifdt'nia  and  Florida  were  still  in  the  stage 
of  discovery.  For  so  short  a  period  this  testified  to  an  extraordi- 
nary outburst  of  vigor.  But  colonial  life  served  only  to  increase 
the  shortcomings  of  the  Castilians, —  their  aversion  to  sustained 
labor,  their  indolence,  their  avarice,  and  their  arrogance.  With 
relentless  brutality  they  drove  Indian  and  n^^o  slaves  to  work 
for  them.  The  Spanish  government  took  measures  to  protect 
the  native  population  of  the  colonies,  but  they  were  rendered 
nugatory   by   the   inherent   characteristics  of   the   conquerors. 


462 


THE  CATHOLIC  REFORMATION 


OHAP. 


U98-1506 


8p»ln'f 

Prestige 

throngb 

the  Poei- 

tlonof 

OliarleB 


More  was  accomplished  in  behalf  of  the  natives  by  the  Spanish 
missionaries  who  in  their  benevolent  work  oiten  louna  them^ 
selves  pitted  against  their  secular  countrymen*  Carles  ^pok  the 
side  of  the  missionaries  against  the  colonists,  and  when,  in  1524, 

ryranizpri    th<>    C^nngJl    ^f    thi>    TnHiPs^    which    had    entire 

charge  of  the  colonies,  he  put  at  its  head  his  own  confessor 
LQgxSil  ^^o  infused  into  it  the  spirit  by  which~it  was  long  actu- 
ated. Every  ship  engaged  in  the  colonial  trade  must  sail  to  and 
from  Seville.  So  in  that  city  there  was  established  the  Casa  de 
Contratacion.  which  combined  the  functions  of  a  board  of  trade, 
a  court  of  commerce,  and  a  clearing  house  for  the  traffic  with 
America.  It  collected  the  royal  dues,  and  it  exercised  super- 
vision over  the  ships  and  their  cargoes,  the  crews  and  the  emi- 
grants who  intended  to  settle  in  the  colonies.  Very  early  the 
western  seas  began  to  swarm  with  pirates  and  so  the  ships  that 
pHed  between  Seville  p^pH  flii>  rnjonjes  sailed  in  company  for 
mutual  protection.  One  fleet  sailed  for  Porto  Hello  to  supply 
South  AttieHca  With  its  needs,  while  another  left  for  San  Do- 
mingo and  Vera  Cruz.  When  they  had  discharged  their  cargoes 
of  food  and  manufactures  and  had  received  their  freights  of 
precious  metals  they  returned  together.  Thus  did  the  galleons 
bring  the  gold  of  the  Indies  across  the  seas  in  safety  to  Seville. 
— 3{>ain  occupied  a  commanding  position  in  Europe.  She  was 
dreaded  by  many  nations  whose  statesmen  dreamed  for  a  cen- 
tury of  her  destruction.  Four  years  after  Charles  ascended  the 
Spanish  throne  he  was  elected  to  the  imperial  office.  ThcjMsL 
l^ion  of  her  king  ji^deA  rr\^ch  tn  the  prestige  of  Sp^ip  Th^ 
prospect  of  a  universal  monarchy  seemea  to  have  come  within 
the  realm  of  possibility,  if,  indeed,  in  the  fears  of  many  who 
were  unduly  alarmed,  it  had  not  entered  that  of  probability.  It 
was  a  vast  empire,  with  numberless  and  far-flung  dependencies, 
over  which  in  1520  the  young  king  began  to  reign.  But  thence- 
forth Spain  was  entangled  in  a  policy  of  more  than  continental 

to  decline.    She  was  drained  of  her  treasure  and  her  best  blood 
irsuit  of  quarrels  which  in  no  sense  were  her  own. 


Spain'! 
Prestige 
throngb 
tlie  Wealth 
of  the 
Indies 


Through  the  wealth  of  the  Indies  as  well  as  through  the  posi- 

Spain  increased.    At  the 
new  kinff  the  rficeipls'of  gold 


1IBH8. 


tion  o 

commencement  of 

and  silver  from  the  colonies  were  small  and  irregular;  at  its 

cessation  the  stream  of  precious  metals  from  Mexico  and  Peru 

was  flowing  like  a  swollen  river.    Pirates  swarmed  the  seas  to 

intercept  the  lumbering  galleons  and  swooped  down  upon  the 

ill-defended  ports  of  Spain.    But  this  sudden  stream  of  wealth, 


THE  SPANISH  SUPREMACY 


463 


while  it  was  the  envy  of  other  nations,  was  by  no  means  an 
unmitigated  blessing  to  the  country  into  which  it  poured.  It 
pmdnrrj  ^  considerable  fall  in  the  value  of  money.  And,  as  is  i^i^-^ 
always  the  case  under  such  conditions,  the  change  in  prices  did 
not  affect  the  whole  land  and  all  branches  of  commerce  and 
industry  simultaneously.  Time  was  needed  to  restore  the  old 
balance  between  income  and  expenditure.  The  multitude  of 
people,  who  live  practically  from  hand  to  mouth,  are  always  slow  , 
in  adapting  themselves  to  new  conditions.  So  the  interval  of 
adjustment  in  Spain  was  one  of  great  hardship  for  the  masses 
of  the  people;  while,  on  the  other  hand,  for  many  members  of 
the  economically  stronger  classes,  especially  for  the  great  mer- 
chants, who  always  reckon  with  changing  circumstances  and 
adapt  themselves  with  less  delay  to  the  momentary  state  of 
prices,  the  alteration  of  prices  afforded  opportunity  to  derive 
advantage.  The  fall  in  the  value  of  money,  which  would  have 
been  a  serious  matter  even  for  a  flourishing  country,  was  bound 
to  have  fatal  consequences  for  Spain,  impoverished  as  she  was 

with  other  causes.      S^pain  tn  hpgn'n  witfi,   wag,  Hp«jpi»^  V^^f  p«-^f^gf 

Charles  made  necessary  the  treblhig  ni  fipr  f:ijot\ryi^^  g^^  tVii'c^ 

Imcd  with  the  mis-management  of  his  government,  resul 
m  rn<>  tinannai  n^^p  ot  the  country.     What  difference  did  it  make 


that  the  wealth  of  Spain  grew  faster  than  her  taxation  if  most 
of  that  wealth  quickly  found  its  way  to  other  countries  and  if 
what  remained  was  far  from  being  equitably  distributed?  In 
spite  of  every  expedient  poverty  descended  upon  the  land  and 
the  national  debt  grew  to  enormous  proportions.  Nff  lfi*^^^"g  E?'" 
resulted  to  Spain  from  the  stream  of  bullion  that  poured  int;o  the 
country- frcMn  the  trans-oceanic  colonies,  becau*'^  Vhf  p""^^^^  i"" 
capable  of  employing  it  for  \\]^  imprnvpm<>rit  nf  Qgn'm^lm-p  an^ 

mantttacture>  It  went,  instead,  to  enrich  the  very  people  who 
were  to  encompass  the  downfall  of  the  Spanish  empire. 

A  third  thing  that  added  to  the  prestige  of  Spain  was  her  mili-L  s^aia't 
tary  discipline.    I'he  cardinal  virtue  01  tne  i^astilian  was  for  ''    "~ 
many  ccntunes  ^'the  primitive  virtue  of  valor."    The  infant 
battaKons  of  Soain  were  the  enw  of  the  worl^.     Her  ragged 
recruits,  trained  m  Italy  and  quartered  in  the  Netherlands,  were 
transformed  into  the  finest  infantry  in  existence.    Brantome,  who 
more  than  any  other  French  writer  of  the  time  understood  Spain, 
was  chiefly  impressed  by  the  warlike  qualities  of  her  people. 
"  You  would  have  called  them  princes,"  he  said,  when  he  saw  the 
Spanish  soldiers  marching  through  France  to  Flanders,  ''they 
«^ere  so  set  up,  they  marched  so  arrogantly,  with  so  fine  a  grace." 


Prwrtlft 
throng 
armu- 
taryDlft- 
cipttBA 


4fi4 


THE  CATHOUC  REFORMATION 


RahI 


^HrfB't 


fimu 


Spain's 


throttgh 
iMrOliaiB- 
ylmiihlp 
of  OroM 


It  is  not  easy  for  us  to  realize  how  profotmdljr  Ettrope  wasish 
pressed  with  the  militaiy  prowess  of  Spain.  In  Ae  last  qw- 
ter  of  the  sixteenth  century  that  impressioa  was  deepeon^  bf  ** 
^endid  glory  of  Lepanto._  But  even  this  source  of  picstifc 
warifa'r&UW  a TBUUftroT^weakncss,  ** The  wail3ce  nalioa  of 
to-day/'  savsfc^Yi(^  ^*y^  ^^"OlBtf  *  ^  ^  decadent  nation  of  to- 
morrow." TnT^^^^^i^^^profession  of  arms  doubdcM 
alienated  at  once  many  artisans  from  the  handicrafts.  It  cer- 
tainly drained  Spain,  as  did  the  colonics,  of  her  more  anAMoai 
sons  and  adventurous  spirits;  and  it  did  so  at  a  time  when  Aere 
was  sore  need  of  such  at  home.  It  is  never  the  crqipled  and  the 
incompetent  that  war  demands,  but  the  best  of  her  manhood  tfast 
a  nation  has  to  offer;  and  oftentimes  the  best  of  her  sons  aie 
abstracted  from  her  life  without  having  left  dnrrndanti,  and  so 
the  life  of  the  nation  becomes  permaneirtly  the  poorer.  Tlialwai 
the  penalty  paid  by  Spain  for  her  attempted  dominion  of  the 
world. 
The  ^igioqff  tfif^uillitv  Aat  Mwafled  within  her  bodPtos  wss 

also  a  factor  in  the  prftgHyg  p|  gpur       '^^^  g^nrm  mSfm^'imA  hf 

Cardin^^XimfiUfiS  had  made  her  die  pattern  thfoi^lioat  tiie 


Img  period  for  reformation  and  reorganisation  wfthtn  the 
Mother  Qturch.  And  in  that  fact  die  Spaniards  took  no  smdl 
d^free  of  pride.  The  Papacy  had  taken  no  part  in  the  refofOL 
It  wtn  f^t  T^'^^rmt  ^^rk  ?^  ^*^  Spaniards  tiiwtMM>iviNi  It  rerted 
upon  a  fusion  of  the  interests  of  Church  and  State  that  gave  to 
the  latter  the  controlling  power.  The  Spanish  bishops  were  obe- 
dient to  their  king  who  held  them  far  more  strictly  to  tiidr  doty 
than  could  have  been  done  from  Rome.  The  religious  quietude 
that  prevailed  in  Spain  and  the  subordination  of  tiie  prdates  to 
the  crown  were  the  envy  of  many  another  nation. 
Still  more  did  Spain  ^rain  pr^tige  tfarourfi  her  dbaxafimdaoB 

has  been  said  with  truth  that  the  Spaniards  were  ttie  fint  and 
the  last  crusaders,  for  long  before  Peter  the  Hermit  preached  the 
first  crusade  against  the  infidels  in  the  East  they  had  begun  die 
work  of  driving  the  Moors  from  their  own  peninsula,  and  for 
more  than  two  hundred  years  after  St  Louis  led  the  last  expedi- 
tion to  the  Holy  Land  they  battled  against  their  age-toqg  foe. 
To  the  people  of  other  nations  warfare  with  the  infidel  was 
merely  an  occasional  occupation,  but  to  the  Spaniards  it  vras  a 
life-long  vocation  in  which  the  welfare  of  their  nation  was  deeply 

involved      Jt  W^S  their  pi^rpi^^pl  nt^t^^^^  thaf  hr^ 

fiber  the  loftv  conviction  that  theiiL 

the  champion 


chosen  h} 


THE  SPANISH  SUPREMACY  465 


Catholic  world.  For  centuries  a  holy  hatred  of  the  infidel  had 
t>een  the  creed  of  Spain.  The  Turk  was  the  peril  abroad :  Ihe 
Lfn^oro  i^is  the  p1ayrii<^  ^t  T^""^  itie  lormer  was  to  be  re-  *•*•••• 
pulsed,  and  the  latter  extirpated.  The  last  remains  of  the  open 
avowal  of  Mohammedanism,  despite  the  terms  of  the  capitula- 
tion of  the  city  of  Granada,  were  extinguished  by  the  end  of  the 
first  quarter  of  the  sixteenth  century.  After  that  the  Jews,  the 
Marranos,  who  were  converted  Jews,  and  the  Moriscos,  who  were 
converted  Mohammedans,  bore  the  brunt  of  Spanish  intolerance. 
Eventually,  t^  ^^**  lactt^g  injury  of  the  country,  the  Moriscos 
ivere  expell<^  With  »^a  nfmrkcf  /rupify"  With  the  disappearance 
Df  their  patient  industry  whole  districts  became  desolate  and 
trade  as  well  as  agriculture  suffered  a  marked  decline.  The 
expulsion  of  the  Moors  was  also  a  fatal  error  in  another  respect, 
n^^  YfcaUd  have  kept  Spain  in  the  channel  of  the  new  cu^uyy 
Into  which  she  ventured  out  timidly  and  out  of  which  she  soon 
drifted.  The  story  of  the  extinction  of  Protestantism  in  the 
[>eninsula  has  already  been  told.    Thus  once  more  it  is  seen  that 

rh#  ^liitigrg  thaf  contributed  tO  the  Orestif^  ^^  f^pam  xut^rp^  in  roal- 

Striking  evidence  of  tl^e  prestiye  pi|r\Y?^  hv  ^p^^"-^*^  to  be 
Found  in  the  spread  of  Spanish  inflij^p<-p  anr^  f^^  Ar^^i^^^^^  ^f  Uptmd 
^P^fTJff^  Tashinnj^^    It  was  not  only  in  Jtaly  where  the  Spaniards  S^fiSS? 
nrere  conquerors  that  Spanish  fashions,  manners  and  influence,  aadruh- 
>layed  a  potent  part  in  the  life  of  the  time.    In  many  other 
Darts  of  the  continent,  even  in  T7|i^f^hethan  Fngla^  j.  which  was 
jy  no  means  friendly  to  Spain,  did  the  ruling  and  the  noble 
riasses  and  the  well-to-do  townsfolk  adopt  Spanish  fashions, 
niltivate  Spanish  manners.    They  even  became  to  a  certain  ex- 
;ent  impregnated  with  Spanish  modes  of  feeling.    Yet  before 
he  end  of  the  reign  of  Charles  signs  of  the  decay  of  Spanish 
)ower  w^e  to  oe  aiscoveredj)y  tJiose  wiio  liad  eyes  to  see;  and 
n  Ihe  Hfflft  6f  IU5'  SQccessor  that  decay  made  rapid  strides. 
Zharles  himself  and  his  ministers  had  become  ever  more  and 
nore  engrossed  in  foreign  policy  so  that  the  right  impulse  for 
ntemal  affairs  was  lacking.    His  foreign  undertakings  compelled 
lim  to  impose  an  ever-increasing  burden  of  taxation  and  to  per- 
nit  his  creditors,  the  great  German  and  Italian  banking  houses, 
50  prey  upon  Spain.    The  iundamental  evil   from   which  tl^e|\ 
SQuntry  guffered  yr^  the  world-policy  of  the  EmoeiJor,  a  tkAicv  \\ 
Spain,  economically  and  socially,  was  unable  to  support. 

Having  thus  made  a  brief  survey  of  the  general  conditionlir 
Spftsn,  let  us  now  consider  the  leading  events  in  the  reign  of 
Iliarles  and  his  son.    In  1542  Francis  I  proclaimed  war  against 


466 


THE  CATHOLIC  REFORMATION 


OHAP. 


154S-66 

The  In- 
stnictioiis 
of  CniarlM 
toFUlip 


OUef 
Brtntfof 
PhlUp't 
S6gtiie]r 


Charles,  and  when  the  latter,  in  the  following  year  departed  for 
the  scene  of  conflict,  he  left  his  son  as  his  r^ent  Philip  was 
just  sixteen  years  old,  but  so  precocioiid  RSfllAn  his  interest 
the  affairs  of  State  that  his  father  felt  confident  of  his 


in 


ability  to  safeguard  the  interests  of  the  country.  Two  letters 
written  by  the  Emperor  to  his  son  throw  a  flood  of  light  upon  the 
actions  of  the  latter.  With  Philip  there  was  to  rest  the  final 
decisions  in  all  matters^Jjut  he  was  to  be  guided  bv  coundlors  who 
had  won  the  confidence  ot  his  tather.  Among  these  advisers 
were  included  the  heads  of  opposing  factions.  This  was  a  pre- 
caution to  prevent  the  young  prince  from  falling  under  the  coo- 
trol  of  any  one  group.  Tjtp  pHvigpf*^  wt^n^  HpcrriKpH ;  tViAff  f^fagp- 
comings,  their  hypocrisy  and  selfishness  were  laid  bar^  witl^t 
gserve.  1  o  each  of  them  the  Pnnce  was  to  lend  his  ear.  Thco 
he  was  to  decide  for  himself.    JThe  principle 


f  Philip's  policy.     A^^H  ^0  *hM>  w^ 


one  of  the  chief  elemei 

In  November,  iy>  T>h\\\^  mtWTXfA  ^Y^  cousin  Maria,  the  only 
daughter  of  the  King  of  Portugal.  His  evident  Spanish  char- 
acter and  interests  had  already  won  for  him  the  love  of  his 

subjects^  ;>pH  tViPiY  jy^tpncp  r^wntj^n  Tip  <>n|fiy<>H  tO  the  Cnd  of  jUS 

l{£fi»  One  of  the  first  questions  Uiat  eilgU^iiU  lili(  attention  was 
that  of  the  economic  policy  to  be  pursued  under  his  administra- 
tion. He  was  convinced  that  the  prosperity  of  Spain  could  best 
be  promoted  by  keeping  in  the  country  the  g^reat  stream  of  bullion 
that  was  pouring  inro  it  fromAmerica.  So  he  endeavorea  to 
prevent  its  exportation  to  otherTJUlLy  r9t  Europe.  But  the  fcp- 
nomic  conditions  were  such  as  to  render  tb^  atjPTnpf  py;^pj;jra11v 
impossible.  Ihe  wealth  of  the  Indies  continued  to  pour  through 
hipain  as~  through  a  sieve  and  to  develop  the  agricultural  and 
manufacturing  activities  of  the  very  countries  that  were  seeking 
to  diminish  the  Spanish  power,     "^f^-^t^  iii<iM«in^  ^ytir  ^^^^r^**     The 

r^st  nf  pj-oHurtinn  rnntjnually  increased.      Sn^ven  ji^^  thft  "^^■ 

kets^of  Spain  the  ff^ffiig^^  could  ul^rsell  the  Spanish  manu- 
facturer.    In  1548,  at  the^gteSTTr^li^s  tather.  PHihp  [v>pp  a 


long^journey  through  Italy.  The  fervent  salutation  of  Andrea 
Dona,  one  vi  Ihe  gie*iltst  sailors  of  the  day,  as  Philip  embarked 
in  the  Bay  of  Rosas,  reflected  the  passionate  devotion  of  the 
people  to  their  prince.  Through  Genoa  he  went,  through  Milan, 
Mantua,  Tyrol,  and  Germany,  entertained  and  banqueted  every- 
where, and  at  last,  on  April  i.  lejiiQ.  he  jnin^^  Vii'g  fathff  in 
Brussels.     For  two  years  the  Emperor  kept  his  son  with  him, 


principles,  and  discussed  with  him  the  disposition  of  the  im- 


THE  SPANISH  SUPREMACY  467 


164S-66 


perial  possessions.  In  1554,  his  first  wife  having  died  in  1545,  ^^' 
Philip  married  Mary,  queen  of  England.  It  was  his  desire  to 
cnany  another  Portuguese  princess,  but  he  bowed  to  the  will  of 
[lis  father  who  thought  he  saw  in  the  English  connection  a  great 
political  opportunity.  Serious  difficulties  had  to  be  overcome 
t>efore  the  marriage  was  possible.  Protestantjfini  had  ^^  ^  ^*^- 
aured^  Enylish  insularitv  had  to  be  disarmed,  and  French  intrigue 
had  to  be  baffled.  So  the  marnaye  contract  provided  against 
the  political  subjection  of  England  to  Spain:  but  Charles  believed 
Lhe  Ullluii  would  leaound  to  his  son's  advantage,  that  he  would 
End  in  it  compensation  for  the  bestowal  of  the  imperial  title  and 
power  upon  his  uncle  Ferdinand.  Philip's  tactfulness  allayed 
much  of  the  distrust  with  which  he  was  regarded  in  England; 
and,  because  of  political  reasons,  he  and  his  father  did  all  they 
could  to  postpone  and  mitigate  the  persecution  of  the  English 
Protestants.  Neither  of  them  desired  the  extinction  of  English 
htTft^  ^*^  m«#^ti  o«^  thpv  Yi^ished  ior  unp^nsn  aid  agraipst  t\[e.  Frenrh, 
But  Mary  and  her  ecclesiastical  advisers  were  zealots  and  they 
impaired  the  cause  of  Spain  by  the  barbarous  punishment  which 
they  inflicted  upon  the  Protestants.  ^■ 

Fortune  did  not  smile  upon  Charles  in  the  renewed  war  with  TUti^i 
France.  He  was  reluctant  to  admit  defeat  in  his  effort  to  drive  JJ^iJ' 
the  invader  from  German  soil"  Success  in  the  attempt  wouia  in 
all  probability  have  left  him  free  to  crush  the  Lutheran  princes, 
to  secure  the  succession  of  his  son  to  the  Empire,  and  to  force 
back  the  Protestants  into  the  Catholic  fold.  These  were  the 
dearest  objects  of  his  life.  But  at  last  circumstances  compelled 
him  to  yield.  The  raising  of  the  siege  of  Metz  on  New  Year's 
day,  1553,  signified  the  renunciation  of  the  accomplishment  of 
his  life  woiic  Profoundly  depressed,  meditating  the  abdication 
Df  his  kingly  and  imperial  powers,  he  left  Germany  never  to 
return.  At  Brussels  he  waited  impatiently  for  his  son  to  come 
to  him.  Sa  Philip.  HJRappninted  that  Mary  had  not  presented 
him  with  an  heir,  left  the  sad  and  faded  little  woman  who  was 
hi&  wife  and  hurried  to  join  his  father.  The  ability  that  Philip  ~ 
had  displayed  as  a  ruler  combined  with  other  circumstances,  had 
caused  his  father  to  cherish  for  him  his  new  ambition.  A  larger 
territory  should  be  his  to  govern.  The  union  of  the  Italian  pos- 
sessions and  the  Empire  had  never  been  satisfactory.  It  would 
be  better  to  join  them  to  Spain.  So  upon  Spain  there  was  con- 
ferred the  sovereignty  of  the  imperial  possessions  in  the  penin- 
sula. Ferdinand  of  Austria  was  pacified  and  compensated  by 
the  marriage  of  his  son  Maximilian  to  the  Emperor's  daughter 
and  by  the  guarantee  that  Maximilian  should  in  his  turn 


468 


THE  CATHOUC  REFORMATION 


succeed  to  the  imperial  tide. 

tbn  'ir'^^^^  Swhl  T^^  ^"^^  ^  ananged  that  ^dn,  cvca 
after  the  abdication  and  death  of  Chaiks,  should  not  be  left 
free  to  solve  its  own  problems  and  devdop  its  own  dTiliatioa 
but  should  remain  in  the  whirlpool  of  continental  politks. 


PhUlp*! 
Ohmnetar 


And  in  eve 


not  only  against^ 

~       evg^  Htrggftm  it  had  hiyi  a  ^i^"«XU     The  Eoh 

even  unto  death.    Stq>  by  step  iie  divested  Um- 


perorwas 

self  of  his  power.    In  1555  with  great  and  inq)res8ive  ceremooj 

he  tranQfi>rri>5l  the  sovifrMjfn^  ni  th^  Netherlands  to 

The.  

^be-Iaditt4.and»  in  the  same  year,  irrevocably  abandoofaig  heretical 
Germany,  tiA  ;tt^^c^^  TriMv«p^«#t  ^n'th  ih^  St«piM4«i  ^irtmyjjj 

Then  he  sailed  from  Flushing  to  Laredo  and  from  diere  made 
Jm  way  overland  to  thg  Jgroqiite  gfrnv^if  p^  Vw«»j>-  wi  tfie  prov- 
ince of .  Estremadura  where  fw^two  yearshe  lived  in  a  Htde 
house  that  adjoined  the  convedt  £htlhUi.  Tbere  He  oontmiiS 
to  be  keenly  interested  in  the  affairs  of  the  world  mitil  an  attack 
of  fever  sent  him  to  his  deathbed.  At  last,  on  Sqitember  at, 
I558»  holding  in  his  hands  a  consecrated  candle  biDti|^  fron 
the  shrine  of  Our  Lady  of  Montoerrat,  and  gating  tqioo  the 
crucifix  which  Isabdla,  his  bdoved  wife,  had  kissed  before  die 
died,  the  last  heroic  figure  among  the  emperors  gave  up  the  ghost 
Charles  V  was  not  endowed  with  the  strength  of  genius,  bat  hii 
position  and  hb  earnest  endeavors  had  placed  him  in  die  fore- 
ground at  one  of  the  most  difficult  periods  of  European  history. 
The  great  tasks  he  had  set  himself  to  do,  the  extinction  of  Ptot- 
e«^tantisyn^  the  reformation  of  the  Qiurrh  and  the  politkaJ  re- 
organization ot  (jermanv^  remained  undone.  A  part  of  duf 
vast  undertaking  he  left  to  his  son  who  was  himself  doomed 
to  defeat. 

Like  his  father,  P}ii1ip  1]  jy>1igvgj  1|imfte1f  ±i 
pointed  to  ^^firt  ^^^  ff *itgn>t'^"  ^^  rtx^h^Mnti 
*W  °"rrnp^7Y  nf  Sr'*'*^  T^"t  be  was  even  less  well-fitted,  bodi 
physically  and  mentally,  than  Charles  to  succeed  in  the  gigantic 
task.  He  was  altogether  lacking  in  the  easy  g»vw1  ^y^my  and 
the  rough  energy  that  had  won  for  the  late  Emperor  many  a 
friend  and  heipea  him  out  of  many  a  difficulty.    He  was  amiable 

nf   affiH-ttOnp   but   it  was   USl^alty   ^nr^o1o/l    ^«/|   nli^yi^   ^iiiQ^H^ 

tedto  purposes  of  State.    A  refined  taste  Jed  him  to  admire 
the  beautiful  and  U>  become  a  patron  of  artists.    He  was  by  no 
means  a  hypocrite,  but,  on  the  contrary,  3^r|#d  ^Vnys  IKff"^ 
to  his  conscience.    The  talents  with  which  thb  mdandioty 


THE  SPANISH  SUPREMACY 


469 


agli 


and  kmdy  man  had  been  endowed  were  distinctly  moderate,  and 
he  was,  moreover,  usually  irresolute  and  procrastinating.  He 
was  a  ni<»*4rn1niig  mon^|-yp  mucn  giveti  to  red-tape,  TIBS  great 
Ht^^^r  whirh  h^  ^^d  ^^r  the  welfare  of  his  subjects  formed 
_  [nnH  ^jH#>  pf  his  Character  as  a  ruier.  m  cases  where  the 
general  wdtare  oi  ihe  nation  was  concerned,  despite  his  prone- 
ness  to  irresolution,  once  he  deemed  himself  to  be  accurately 
informed  and  was  convinced  that  he  could  reach  the  evil,  he 
never  hesitated  to  apply  the  remedy.  And  when  they  failed 
to  perform  their  duties  properly  he  sacrificed  with  indifference 
the  highest  dignitaries  of  the  State;  while  for  the  effective  ful- 
filment of  their  petty  functions  the  corregidors  of  the  meanest 
villages  were  held  in  honor.  So,  inadequately  endowed  with 
ability,  and  insufficiently  supplied  with  means,  he  set  to  work 
upon  a  task  only  less  enormous  than  that  which  had  defeated  his 
father. 

The  intimate  union  with  the  Papacy  and  the  fusion  of  his 
widely-scattered  territories,  which  were  the  first  of  Philip's  ob- 
jects, met  with  the  opposition  of  the  Pope.  Paul  IV,  who  had 
ascended  the  papal  chair  in  1555,  was  a  member  of  a  Neopolitan 
family  that  had  always  lent  its  support  to  the  Angevin  party  in 
southern  Italy,  and  his  long-standing  hostility  to  Spain  was  in- 
creased by  the  authority  exerted  by  the  crown  over  the  Spanish  Foxiigm 
clergy.  The  infuriated  pontiff  formed  an  alliance  with  France ;  ^'^^^ 
and  then  Philip,  the  most  Catholic  of  kings,  by  a  strange  irony 
of  fate,  f^**^*^  i^^wic^if  ^^  Y^nT  wi'fii  j^i^iji  FftE^     The  Spanish 

troops  under  Alva  were  victorious.  Rome  itself  was  in  im- 
minent danger;  but  the  doge  of  Venice  intervened  and  a  peace 
was  patched  up  with  the  ''accursed  Spaniards."  In  1558  the 
dirath  ftf  Miry  jprrpaspH  the  difficulty  of  Philip's  situation.  It 
yoy^_|yT^TT^  apparent  that  he  rould  no  ionf[er  reasonably  hope 
^^^JiiyHh  ai^  against  thf;  French.  The  peace  ot  Lateau- 
l^tnhf^^  «'^'>  ff'g^-^d  thfff ^^^•^j  ^"  ^^^  ^^^^nw^ngf  year.  France 
and  Spain  mutually  ceded  to  each  other  the  conquests  they  had 
made,  and  1  ram-^f  n^i-^nnf  «.rne  otifo^^/^  \^^q  bctweeu  them  to 

•^^PPITffl  all  heresy  in  ([;:f]rigtenf^r)y|^^  One  other  precaution  had 
to  be  taken.  The  claim  of  Mary,  queen  of  Scots,  to  the  Eng- 
lish throne  threatened  the  interests  of  Spain.  Should  Mary, 
who  was  also  a  French  princess,  ever  reign  over  both  England 
and  France,  the  Netherlands  would  be  endangered.  Some  weeks 
after  the  signing  of  the  peace,  therefore,  ^hilip  w^°  tnom*^  \,y 
DioxY  wjth  rTtrinrdiniiin'  rphnilTrr  tT  Fl'-'Tihf^h  f\i  Valoj*^  whn 
was  yet  but  a  child. 
At  last  Philip  felt  himself  free  to  return  to  Spain  from 


470  THE  CATHOLIC  REFORMATION 


whkh  he  had  been  absent  for  five  yean.  FrcleaiaaHcal  afiain 
in  the  peninsula  had  become  disturbed  and  unsatisfactofy.  The 
dtrgy  were  corrupt,  cynicism  was  q>reading»  and  heresy  hid 
began  to  appear  above  the  surface.  Charles  had  exfaortod  Im 
son  to  prosecute  heresy  rigorously  and  rdentlessiy.  Sadi  as 
injunction  was  unnecessary.  Deeply  implanted  in  ^f V*  ^***'* 
was  an  inborn  determination  to  enforce  unity  of  faith  at  anj 
oOsU  ahU  iii  lliat  aetenmSal 
.iabbport  dTTte-Spamsn^jccwiicL^  'ine  story 
ima  ttie  Censure  bas  l>een  told  elsewhere  and  so  it  need  nol 
detain  us  here.  Among  the  many  troubles  that  gathered  about 
Philip  was  that  of  the  condition  and  the  actions  of  hb  only  soa 
TVm  Paries,  whom  he  had  by  his  first  wife,  and  who  was  now 
«f     approaching  his  majority.    Subject  to  epileptic  fits  the  yomv 


oSm  prince,  who  was  also  lame  and  stunted  in  growth,  dimlayed  in* 
rr^^mfr  symptnmft  nf  ji^MllHy  ^^  bccamc  filled  witn  a  dcSc 
to  escape  from  Spain  and  defy  his  father;  and  when  this  be- 
came known  H^  yag  mnf^p^  in  pijffnn.  There  he  was  eitfad 
put  to  death  by  his  father's  orders,  or,  as  seems  more  probable. 
brought  death  upon  Hin^ylf  in  die  belief  that  otherwise  he 
wouiQ  suiter  imprisonment  for  life. 

Soon  after  Philip  had  returned  to  Spain  he  had  been  pedtkiaeii 
to  suppress  the  Moslem  pirates  who  raided  the  shores  not  otif 
of  Sicily  and  Naples  but  of  Spain  itself,  where  doubtless  tfaef 
BtMiiMi  were  abetted  by  the  Moriscos  of  Granada.  'TTir  ^**^'^  f^  «y 
5J,^Iip,  the  seasof  the  Turkish  corsairs  was  a  terrible  failure  invdviiig 
the  losTof  fflUy  ^lilyy  aiid  tliOUimiids  oi  men.  Then  attention 
was  turned  upon  the  Moriscos.  But  it  was  not  cmly  because 
they  were  suspected  of  lending  aid  to  the  Moslem  nuuauders 
that  the  Moriscos  incurred  the  hatred  of  their  Spanish  neigh- 
bors. The  Christianity  that  had  been  forced  upon  them,  it  was 
well-known,  was  but  a  thin  veneer;  and  their  skill  in  agriculture 
and  horticulture  made  them  more  prosperous  than  were  the 
peasants  of  undoubted  orthodoxy.  For  a  long  time  the  Moriscos 
sullenly  endured  the  persecution  to  which  they  were  subjected 
Then  the  storm  burst  and  vengeance  was  wreaked  upon  the 
Christians.  But  the  punishment  inflicted  upon  the  ^oriYff 
by  Philip  was  swift  and  atrocious.  ThosfiijKbCLfiaSBSd-ilfittll 
were  driven  in  chains  through  the  snow  from  Andalusia  where 
lliey  and  lliell  iuiet^ther^  had  liV^d  for  6ight  hundred  years  (gL 
Jbc^ange  and  inhospitable  northern  proviriiyft^^  Thus  did  the 
monarch  who  was  so  solicitous  ior  his  cotmtry's  wdf are  hasten 
the  industrial  decline  of  Spain. 
From  warfare  at  home  Philip  turned  to  warfare  abroad. 


THE  SPANISH  SUPREMACY  471 


Uiged  by  the  Pope  to  strike  a  decisive  blow  at  the  Crescent  he     Sj^' 

placed  his  natural  brother,  Dnn  John  nf  Austria,  a  handsome     

and  cfaiyahx>us  leader,  at  the  head  of  the  greatest  fleet  that  had     **••-•• 
ever  sailed  the  inland  seas  and  sent  him  tn  makp  a  supreme  ^ffort  rh» 
to  rid  the  Mediterranean  of  the  Moslem  scourge.    The  Turkish  SmS"* 
Aeet  was  encountered  on  October  7,  1571,  in  the  Bay  of  Lepanto  Torkuii 
and  a  crushing  defeat  was  Jnflirtpd  upon  it.     Christendom  was  ^^u^ 
thrilled  with  joy  from  center  to  circumference.    Thus  ended  the  »^  oon- 
first  of  Philip's  great  naval  efforts.    The  story  of  tht  war  that  StS^ 
broke  out  in  the  Netherlands  is  to  be  told  in  the  next  chapter. 
Still  another  war  was  that  which  ended  in  the  annexation  of 
Portugal.    In  1578  Sebastian,  the  young  Portuguese  king,  per- 
ished in  an  attempt  to  conquer  Morocco.    Philip  was  the  most 
formidable  of  the  host  of  claimants  to  the  Portuguese  throne; 
and  there  was  much  to  make  him  willing  to  fight  for  the  king- 
dom.   Great  wealth  was  pouring  into  Portugal  and  the  vast 
possessions  in  Africa  seemed  to  promise  a  still  greater  income. 
With  these  resources  the  lack  of  money  and  of  credit,  which 
hitherto  had  been  so  great  an  impediment  to  the  fulfilment  of 
his  plans,  might  be  overcome.     Sebastian   was   succeeded    by 
his  great  uncle,  an  aged  cardinal,  who,  as  King  Henry,  reigned 
only  a  year  and  a  half.    Then  Alva  was  sent  into  PffitlTfT^  ^^ 
the  head  of  a  militify  frrtin  nnrl  nn  April  Ti  ^^^^1  t)|^  cortes  of 
that  country  took  the  oath  nf  ^]1i>prianrp  fn,  v\\W\j^     It  was  not 
altogether  an  unconditional  surrender.    According  to  the  terms 
of  the  agreement  Portugal  was  to  be  regarded  as  a  separate 
kingdom  united  to  Spain  solely  by  the  fact  that  she  had  the 
same  sovereign ;  she  was  to  retain  possession  of  all  her  colonies ; 
and  the  rights  and  the  liberties  of  her  subjects  were  to  be  re- 
spected.   Thus  did  all  those  parts  of  America,  Africa,  and  Asia 
that  had  been  conquered  by  Europeans  come  under  the  dominion 
of  this  grave  and  reticent  king  whose  troubles  were  gathering 
in  great  clouds  about  his  head  but  who  moved  forward  to  the 
accomplishment  of  his  great  task  confident  in  the  conviction  that 
he  was  the  chosen  instnmient  of  God. 

Among  the  lieutenants  whom  Philip  had  chosen  to  assist  him 
were  men  of  no  mean  ability.    In  conformity  with  the  advice 
of  Charles  V  no  civil  office  was  intrusted  to  Fernando  de  Toledo,  vimip't 
Duksj2£.JU«Ku(  1508-82),  who  was  a  grandee  and  who  was  JjJJJ**^ 
bent  on  his  own  advancement.    He  was  employed  only  jn  ^^^' 

affairs   fnH    in    y/ar.     Ruv    Gom 
Philjp.  a  Portuguese  bv^irth.  was  a  consistent  advocate  of  peace 
and  moderation.    He  wished  to  have  Alva  removed  from  the 
cirde  of  the  royal  advisers;  hf  protest^(j[i  though  in  vain,  against 


472 


THE  CATHOLIC  REFORMATION 


1666-9S 


The  Night 
Jsnto 


le  p^r^gf  "<^^^n  of  the  Moriscos ;  and  he  advocated  a  ccmciliatory 

thff  Nf!r"'"g*'     KTlast,  when  Philip  grew  weary  of 

fruitless  cruelty  of  Alva  in  the  Netherlands,  the  party  of 
the  peace-maker  became  for  a  time  paramount,  but  soon  after 
his  policy  gained  the  ascendancy  Gomez  died.  Antonip  Pyrez 
(i539?-i6ii),  an  able,  ambitious,  ingratiating  and  unscrupulous 
scoundrel,  was  a  factotum  upon  whom  much  reliance  was  placed. 
He  used  an  old  and  expired  commission  from  the  king  to  get 
rid  of  Escobedo,  the  secretary  of  Don  John  of  Austria,  as  an 
excuse  for  venting  a  private  grudge  against  that  unfortunate 
individual.  This  lytrfyal  of  confidence  turned  the  Idni^  against 
jiim  and  the  facile  favorite  was  thrown  into  prison]  Fefez 
escaped  TO  Aragon  and  when  that  province  was  called  upon  to 
surrender  him  it  declined  to  permit  any  infringement  of  the 
rights  of  its  tribunals.  The  fugitive  was  permitted  to  escape 
across  the  Pyrenees.  Then  Philip  sent  a  Castilian  army  into 
Aragon,  inflicted  severe  punishment  upon  those  who  had  been 
leaders  in  the  defense  of  the  Aragonese  rights,  and  effected 
changes  in  the  provincial  charter  that  favored  the  royal  author- 
ity.     A     fourth    assistant    was     JJirhQlafS     PArrAnrv^     jy    Q^j^yoUa 

(1484-1550),  a  capable  and  faithful  servant,  recommended  to 
Philip  by  Charles  for  employment  in  all  matters  relating  to  Ger- 
many, Italy,  France,  and  England.  He  always  cherished  a  love 
for  his  native  Burgundy  and  sought  to  advance  the  welfare  of 
his  sons  among  whom  was  the  Cardinal  Granvella.  ra^f^inal 
Antoine  Perr^^pf  ^^  ^*"^"vHla  ( 1517-86)  >  prime  minister  to 
[argaret  (half-sister  of  Philip)  when  that  princess  was  regent 
of  the  Netherlands,  and  who,  after  he  had  been  compelled  to 
retire  from  the  Low  Countries  because  of  the  growing  hostility 
of  the  people  towards  him,  was  emplovH  ^y  Philip  in  impgrtant 
^matjcnegrntiatinnj^  and  made  praftwkmrTTf  fhr   rnimril    for 

iian  affaiig  with  headquarters  at  Madrid.  Quite  as  important 
as  any  of  the  principal  ministers  was  Fray  Diego  de  Clyyes^ 
the  kind's  confessor,  who,  of  course  possessed  not  only  their 
privilege  of  personal  approach  but  also  a  far  more  private  inter- 
course from  which  they  were  excluded. 

Despite  these  and  other  assistants  Philip  endeavored  him- 
self to  conduct  the  enormous  work  of  the  government.  We 
have  seen  that  he  was  genuinely  solicitous  for  the  welfare  of 
his  people.  He  read  and  annotated  with  his  own  hand  all  the 
despatches,  covering  reams  of  paper,  sent  by  his  agents  from 
almost  every  part  of  the  globe.  In  vain  he  sought  the  help  of 
the  queen  (Philip  was  married  to  Anne,  daughter  of  the  Emperor 
Maximilian  II,  in  1570)  and  the  infantas  in  this  endless  secre- 


THE  SPANISH  SUPREMACY 


473 


1666-9t 


tarial  activity  that  he  had  assumed.  The  more  papers  he  de- 
spatched the  more  he  received.  Timorous  and  hesitating  by 
nature,  when  he  was  not  absolutely  sure  of  his  ground,  the  very 
routine  of  his  procedure  postponed  his  decisions  still  further 
l>eyond  the  apprq)riate  hour  that  would  not  wait  Much  that 
he  decreed,  therefore,  failed  of  its  purpose  and  vanished  into 
thin  air.  The  evils  in  the  condition  of  Spain  were  in  themselves 
so  grave  and  so  deep-rooted  that  had  the  activity  of  Philip  been 
devoted  exclusively  to  their  extirpation  the  task  would  have 
severely  taxed  his  strength,  and  when  there  was  added  to  it  the 
prodigious  work  of  governing  the  vast  possessions  beyond  the 
borders  of  Spain  it  was  clearly  beyond  his  capacity.  In  1586 
Philip's  infirmities  compelled  him  to  abandon  his  practice  of 
dealing  in  detail  with  every  paper.  A  kind  of  intimate  privy 
council  was  formed  to  assist  him.  It  consisted  of  three  mem- 
bers, TVkfi  Jiiat^  f]#>  THiaquez.  Dou  Cristobal  de  Mpyr^.  anH  thi^ 
Count  o^  Qiinchon.  Because  of  its  custom  of  meeting  every 
night  in  the  palace  the  council  ^a«^  ra11<>d  the  Night  Junta.  It 
went  over  the  documents  of  the  day  before  they  were  submitted 
to  the  king.  The  three  members,  each  of  whom  was  concerned 
with  a  special  department  of  the  government,  were  then  granted 
an  interview  with  the  king  on  the  following  day  in  which  the 
affairs  of  the  various  departments  arising  out  of  the  documents 
of  the  preceding  night  were  discussed.  The  general  policies 
were  then  decided  and  the  execution  of  the  details  was  left  to 
the  various  secretaries  of  the  councils.  Thus  was  Philip  re- 
lieved of  much  of  the  arduous  task  of  government. 

But  the  mechanical  work  of  government  still  undertaken  by 
Phil^  and  the  cares  of  office  were  so  great  that  they  swamped 
him  and  left  him  utterly  defeated.  Spain  to  her  detriment  was 
involved  in  the  wars  of  religion  that  were  poinr  0"  "^  pt-nti^^ 
The  Netherlands  ^^;££ejn  revolt ;  and  HpQi'grng  nppn  f\^^  I7^g]\c^\y 
irone  also  engaged  the  king  s  attentioa.  At  home  matters  were 
going  troiii  b^d  16  worse,  i  hexourts  were  corrupt,  lawlessness 
was  rife,  the  rlergy  meddled  in  mundan^  attairs.  .pnvrrty  in- 
creased, the  population  declined,  and  ignorance  descended  upon 
the  J^d  like  a  thick  foe.    In  15SS  came  the  iremendous  caias- 


Bpaia't 
JMMflltrt 


oUbwed  in  1596  by  the  destruction  bv  the 

the  harhnr^^it  r.afT^. 


trophe  of  the 

Enciish  of  the  new 

years  laier,  siill  firm  in  the  conviction,  despite  his  many 
reverses,  that  he  had  been  chosen  of  God  to  lead  the  battle 
against  the  forces  of  evil,  Philip  died.    '^^^  nm  P^  ^''^  rPMntlY 

har^  y^yy  largely  ^^"   ^js  V'^^^^^^^fU^  **  ypf  h^'c   p^^p]f  ffy*'*'*"^ 
him  as  a  saint,  and  still  ch^righ  his  piemnry  as  a  great  ^^ng^  nftt. 


474  THE  CATHOLIC  REFORMATION 


fnr  yhafr  \\fi  AiA^  Kii|  |^r  wh^t  hf  rif^**^^i**  ^"^  h>s  great  failure 
they  deemed  to  hold  the  substance  of  etamal  things. 

It  was  a  peculiarly  difficult  proUem  that  confronted  Spaia 
Under  Charles  V  she  was  involved  in  the  multitudinous  affairs 
*•  of  the  German  Empire;  and  while  with  the  abdication  of  that 
monarch  the  tie  that  bound  her  to  that  heterogeneous  congeries 
of  warring  principalities  was  severed  she  was  still  united  to  the 
provinces  in  Italy  and  to  the  Neth^lands  whose  problems  were 
not  her  own.  No  European  nation  had  yet  learned  how  to 
govern  and  develop  trans-oceanic  colonies;  and  Spain,  the^^ 
fore,  found  herself  face  to  face  with  the  huge  and  untried  work 
of  governing  vast  possessions  separated  from  her  by  half  the 
circumference  of  the  globe.  So  the  fact  that  the  ^ft^"^*^  tTft^' 
ment  and  the  Spanish  people  failed  to  meet  the  Mt^^itinp  mt^ 
cSsfully  does  not  BMftssanly  prove  their  utter  mcomoetence. 
No  other  government  and  no  odier  people  in  the  sixteenth  cen- 
tuiy  were  subjected  to  a  similar  test;  and  few  other  ooontria 
were  similarly  handicapped  for  the  performance  of  a  Uioe  tad[, 
had  such  a  task  confronted  them»  by  so  qtarse  a  populatioD,  fay 
so  marked  an  absence  of  constituticmal  unity  and  cnimnon  fed- 
ing  between  its  various  sections,  and  fay  so  backward  a  oondh 
tion  of  the  development  of  its  natural  resources,  as  was  Spaia 
After  all  due  allowance  for  mitigating  circumstances  has  been 
made,  however,  the  facts  remain  that  Spain  failed,  that  her  his- 
tory in  the  sixteenth  century,  though  she  was  feared  in  every 
pther  European  country,  is  one  of  deepening  gloom,  and  that 
her  splendid  energy,  expended  in  many  a  battle  against  infidd 
and  heretic  and  squandered  in  the  uttermost  ends  of  the  worid, 
died  away  and  left  her  barren  of  those  economic  and  social  en- 
thusiasms that  have  animated  the  soul  of  every  other  modern 
nation. 


1864-1660 


CHAPTER  XXV 

THE  REVOLT  OF  THE  NETHERLANDS 

1.  The  Netherlands  at  the  Accession  of  Philip  IL 

2.  The  Regency  of  Margaret  of  Parma. 

3.  The  Regency  of  Alva. 

4.  The  Uniting  of  the  Provinces. 
S  The  French  Alliance. 

6.  The  English  Alliance. 

7.  Olden-Bameveld  and  Maurice  of  Nassau. 

■^HE  political  State  that  was  made  up  of  the  seventeen     ^5^' 
b     provinces  of  the  Netherlands,  and  which  is  represented  to- 
f  by  the  kingdoms  of  Belgium  and  Holland,  was  gxatfidJiy 
ir  dukes  of  Burgundy.  Philip  the  Bol<j,  JnTin  thi^  Fpa^li^gg 
>dip  the  Good,  and  Charles  th<>  RnM ;  and  later  on  it  was  Bowite 
_  [g^s  V.    It  lay  between  the  two  JJS^S 

at  kingdoms  of  France  and  Germany  of  whose  erstwhile  bMn 
joining  border  provinces  it  was  comprised.  It  was  a  hybrid  '^"■•* 
ite  in  more  than  one  respect ;  politically,  because  it  was  made 
of  fragments  of  France  and  Germany^f  linguistically,  because 
\  mhabitants  of  the  northern  provinces  spoke  a  Germanic 
igue  while  those  of  the  south  spoke  a  Romance  tongue;  and 
^^phically,  because  except  where  its  low-lying  shores  were 
shed  by  the  ocean  and  where  in  the  southeast  it  was  pro* 
ted  by  the  hills  of  the  Ardennes  there  was  no  distinct  and 
:ural  frontier.  Yet  it  had  not  come  into  existence  merely 
the  result  of  the  arbitrary  will  of  a  succession  of  princes  and 
blind  chance.  For  many  centuries  political,  economic,  and 
ial  forces  had  been  at  work  drawing  the  various  provinces 
ether.  The  people  of  the  town^  desired  pnlitirni  iiniia>n ;  and 
y  were  very  numerous  ana  powerful  in  the  valleys  of  the 
ee  rivers  that  flowed  through  the  land,  the  Rhine,  the  Meuse, 
1  the  Scheldt.  Their  towns  were  situated  in  the  greatest 
Tiand  commercial  highway  in  Europe.  Their  commerce  was 
emational  in  its  range.  They  desired  political  union  as  a 
ans  of  defense.  So  a  multiplicity  of  agreements  was  signed 
ween  the  various  principalities.  When  the  Burgundian  dukes\ 
[an  to  make  a  State  out  of  these  territories  they  did  not  find\ 
task  to  be  particularly  difficult  In  1543  Charles  V  added 
last  two  of  the  seventeen  provinces  to  the  union  and  thus 

475 


476 


THE  CATHOLIC  REFORMATION 


OBAP. 


lS6i-16B6 


fulfilled  a  plan  that  had  been  outlined  in  the  reign  of  Chaiks 
the  Bold. 

Each  one  of  the  seventeen  principalities  had  presenred  h 
own  constitution  and  its  own  institutions  and  each  h^^  itg  mn 
nominated 


??T«liT?f»Ri 


jtgflflfliiflgt  nominatea  irom  tne^raiucs  of  the  nobility  by  Ae 
central  ruler.  The  Burgundian  dukes,  copying  the  monarchical 
institutions  of  France,  but  altering  them  to  suit  the  circumstances 
of  their  northern  State,  endeavored  to  build  up  a  central  govern- 
ment, to  establish  a  greater  degree  of  community  of  interests, 
and  thus  to  make  more  effective  the  collective  State.  In  this 
they  were  aided  by  the  economic  forces  of  the  time,  the  need 
of  peace  and  protection.  In  1463  Philip  the  Good  created  thc_ 
States-General,  an  institution  made  up  of  del^;ates  from  the 
estates  of  each  province,  one  that  met  almost  every  year,  one 
that  gave  the  prince  an  opportunity  to  meet  the  statesmen  of  his 
subjects  face  to  face  and  to  discuss  with  them  the  things  of 
general  import,  one  that  gave  the  people  a  share  in  the  general 
government,  and  one  that  proved  a  potent  factor  in  welding  into 
an  organic  unity  the  miscellaneous  agglomeration  of  principal- 
ities.   There  was  created  also  a  council  that  had  cogniz^n^^  oL 

ilitjral  {^ffai^S  2Uid  another  council  that  formed  a  supreme  court 
nt    ^"Rtire    ^jjtVi    jiiri«^(j|ytion    over   the    seventeen    provinces. 

larles  V  divided  the  political  coimcil  into  three  councils:  (i) 
the  cpunril  nf  .State.  ^J^^q^  had  charpe  of  Political  matters ;  (2) 
the  privy  council^  which  was  principallv  administrative  in  func- 

\\nn-  and   (3)  the  rnnn^jl  of  finance.     The  C^P^<-al  COUrt  of  JUS- 

tice,  never  acknowledged  as  the  supreme  court  of  appeal  by  all 
the  provinces  and  so  never  a  complete  success,  sat  at  Mechlin; 
and  the  three  councils  sat  at  Brussel^^  where,  after  1531,  the 
representative  of  the  sovereign  also  resided,  thus  making  it  the 
capital  of  the  collective  State,  But  everywhere  the  ancient  con% 
^^tiitions  oi  the  different  States  were  left  intact  and  the  ter4 
ritorial  autonomy  was  preserved.  Each  province  retained  its 
estates,  the  essential  organ  of  its  autonomy,  and  through  that 
body  exercised  the  right  of  voting  the  taxes.  And  with  each 
nf  the  nmvinrec  ffipri>  rPcfpH  the  right  to  confirm  or  repudiate 

ites-Ueneral.  ^  FarticularismT 
then,  was  by  no  means  destroyed  by  the  erection  of  a  central 
government. 

Under  Charles  V  the  Netherlands  enjoyed  great  commercial 
prosperity.  But  beneath  the  surface  there  was  an  increasing 
discontent.  The  country  had  been  persuaded  to  bear  a  lareer 
proportionate  share  of  taxation  t[|gn  any  other  part  of  the 
imperial  possessions,  and  it  was  in^nsequence  burdened  with 


THE  REVOLT  OF  THE  NETHERLANDS       477 


dtbti  Spanish  garrisons  in  the  various  towns  ar< 

of  tHelpODUlaCCL:  and  tVi#>  pprc^g^jtinfi  ^f  t^^  T  "^V^^*-^"*^    y^iTigi;, 

ans,  Calvinists  and  ^nahaptistQ,  whi1<>  failing  to  effect  the  extinc-  "••^ 
tlon  of  heresy,  jggravated  the  general  discontent.  On  October 
25,  1555,  Charles  reiinquisned  tlie  government  of  the  Nether-  BtvoH 
lands  to  his  son  Philip  II  and  left  to  him  the  l^;acy  of  accumu-  ^!^u£ 
lating  dissatisfaction.  The  first  four  years  of  his  reign  were 
spent  by  Philip  in  the  Netherlands,  and  in  that  time,  although 
his  financial  and  ecclesiastical  policies,  and  the  methods  em- 
ployed for  their  execution,  were  the  same  as  those  of  his  father, 
the  dissatisfaction  greatly  increased.  Philip,  unlike  his  father, 
was  unmistakably  a  foreigner  in  this  northern  State.  To  the 
several  causes  of  revolt  that  were  already  silently  at  work  before 
his  accession  to  the  throne  there  was  added  another  and  a  more 
fundamental  one  —  a  deepening  antipathy  to  the  Spanish  rule. 
In  1559  Philip  left  tHe  Netherlands  never  to  return.  The  rq- 
gcnLto-  whom  he  confided  the  care  of  the  country  was  his  half- 
sister,  Margaret  of  Parma,  a  woman  of  masculine  character  and 
no  slight  administrative  ability,  who  had  been  bom  and  brought 
up  in  the  country.  Secret  instructions  required  her  to  continue 
the  policy  of  religious  persecution  and  to  accept  the  advice  of  the 
council  of  State,  the  privy  council,  and  the  council  of  finance. 
Thus  she  was  directed  in  all  things  by  Philip  and  by  the  three 
men  whom  she  had  placed  at  the  head  of  the  councils  —  Berlay- 
mont,  Viglius,  and  Granvella  (bishop  of  Arras  and,  later  on,  a 
member  of  the  college  of  cardinals)  of  whom  the  latter,  the 
virtual  governor  of  the  Netherlands^  was  by  far  the  most  im- 
portant  The  powerful  and  masterful  ecclesiastic  endeavored, 
but  without  avail,  to  mitigate  the  cruel  policy  of  persecution 


upon  which  the  absent  king  insisted.  In  the  execution  of  that  p 
policy,  and  in  the  general  conduct  of  the  government,  the  local 
charters  and  privileges  were  often  violated,  the  great  nobles 
of  the  land  were  practically  ignored,  and  the  populace  were  made 
more  dissatisfied  than  ever.  Foremost  among  the  nobles  of 
tnc  iNetnerlands  were  William  of  Nassau,  Prince  of  Orange 
(1533-84),  Lamoral,  Count  of  Egmont  (1522-68),  and  Philip, 
Count  of  Hoome  (1520-68).  The  first,  later  known  as  "  A^^ 
|i^  tho  SikPtj"  because  of  his  customary  discreetness,  was  the 
most  important  of  the  three,  being  the  heir  of  vast  possessions 
in  Germany  and  France  as  well  as  in  the  Netherlands,  and, 
despite  his  youth,  an  experienced  general  and  a  skilful  diplo- 
mat. Becoming  aware  about  the  time  of  Philip's  departure  for 
Spain  of  that  monarch's  intention  of  resorting  to  the  use  of  fire 
and  sword  for  the  extinction  of  heresy  in  hb  realms  he  resolved 


tr*^***^ 


4;« 


THE  CATHOUC  REFORMATION 


1W9-M 


of  his  oountiy,  and 
despite  the  fact  that  ^  WM  MlP*^^^  •  rafiio|jg  The  sriev<- 
ances  of  the  country  were  made  known  to  Phifip  by  Hut  States* 
General  before  he  left  the  Netherlands.  Fourteen  months  later 
the  Spanish  troops  were  withdrawn-  R^t  tl|y  <raTmM  ^^  Almr^^ 
tent  were  not  removed  In  some  cases  tiiey  were,  indeed,  in- 
creased. Taxation  qf«ririniniA  ff%  be  Oppressive;  the  rigorona  per- 
secution of  heresy,  for  which  purpose  the  

^established  in  the  Netherlands,  was  carried  on  in  violation 
the  provincial  constitutions;  and  the  papal  bulls,  issued  at  At 
instigation  of  Philip,  that  increased  tiie  number  of  bishopries 
from  three  to  seventeen  also  infringed  upon  the  rights  guaran- 
teed to  the  people.  The  estrangement  between  Philip  and  lus 
subjects  in  the  Netherlands  was  growing;  and  its  progress  was 
not  retarded  by  the  marriage  of  William  of  Orange,  soon  after 
the  death  of  his  first  wife,  to  the  Protestant  princess  Anne^ 
daughter  and  heiress  of  Maurice  of  Saxony.    It  was  the  mistaken 

belief  of  the  malcontents  thai ^^^^ 

responsible  tor  many  ot  the  erievances ;  but  as  a  matter  of  fact 
^  he  favored  a  policy  of  moderatioq  and  in  all  repressive  meas- 
ures  be  was  merely  tiie  reluctant  instrument  of  Philq>.    Because 
of  this  belief  the  three  men  who  were  at  the  head  of  the  nobil- 
ity wrote  twice  to  the  king  in  1563  requesting  him  to  recsll 
the  cardinal ;  and  in  the  same  year  Margaret,  seeing  that  things 
were  going  from  bad  to  worse,  made  a  similar  request    As  a 
result  of  these  communications  Granvdla  was  removed  in  the 
following  year  under  the  disguise  of  voluntary  retirement    Five 
months  later  Philip  issued  an  order  for  the  enforcement  of  the 
Tridentine  decrees  in  the  Netherlands.    The  order  aroused  vig-' 
brous  protest  and  Egmont  was  despatched  as  a  special  messegggr, 
tp  the  kii^gr  to  request  in  plain  ana  unmisbucaoie  ierms  a  redr^ 
of  grievances.    But  <m  the  point  of  heresy  Philip  was  in«nrahle : . 
he  insisted,  after  E^ont  had  returned  home,  upon  tlie  strict 
enforcement  of  the  placards,  or  edicts,  against  heresy  and  the 
promulgation  of  the  decrees  of  the  G)uncil  of  Trent    The  mis- 
sion was  therefore  a  failure.    With  this  decision  of 

IT 


the  die  was  ga«;t.  Revol^  was  p]ade  inevitable.  It  reqmred  no 
special  gift  of  prophecy  to  enable  Williani  of  Orange  to  predict 
that  his  countrymen  would  soon  see  ''the  b^finning  of  a  fine 
tragedy." 

When  Philip's  decision  became  known  lawliH^  g^n^tyflrj  took 
place  among  the  indignant  populace,  many  of  the  magistrates 
declined  to  enforce  the  edicts,  and  the  jg-^yr  nr^l^  began. 
to  join  those  of  higher  rank  in  opposition  to  the  Spanish  pow€r» 


-        THE  NETHERLANDS 

ATTHK 
ABDICATION   OF  CHARLES   V 


f         |Bp«l.liMi.th«l.iiU. 


1^^. 


THE  REVOLT  OF  THE  NETHERLANDS 


479 


1564-67 


going,  indeed,  much  further  than  at  that  time  the  greater  nobles 
desired  to  go.  The  prinriptpg  of  the  minnr  nobility  were  em- 
bodied in  a  document  known  as  the  "^ComEroaugft'*  which  was 
directed  chiefly  against  the  Inquisition  and  which  was  soon 
signed  by  over  two  thousand  people  many  of  whom  were  Cath-  xndpitnt 
olics.  When  some  two  hundred  and  fifty  of  the  nobles  pre-  oeiMtie " 
sented  to  the  regent  a  "  request "  that  she  should  send  an  envoy  OutbrtAi 
to  the  king  to  ask  him  to  abolish  the  placards  and  the  Inquisi- 
tion, Berlaymont  attempted  to  reassure  her  by  describing  them 
contemptuously  as  gueux, —  beggars.  The  name  was  accepted 
by  the  confederates  with  enthusiasm  and  everywhere  nobles, 
burghers,  and  peasants  wore  the  emblem  of  the  beggar's  wallet. 
Foremost  among  the  leaders  pf  /gJ  gueujc  were  Henrv^  Viscount 
of  Brederode.  a  Catholic^  a  man  of  many  faults,  bold  and  reck- 
less, a  spendthrift  and  a  rake,  but  generous,  kindly,  and  sincere ; 
Mamix  of  St.  Aldeeonde.  a  Calvinist,  poet,  orator,  and  diplo- 
mat,  as  well  as  a  soldier ;  and  Lx>uis  of  Nassau,  at  this  time 
a^  Lutheran^  le  bon  chevalier,  a  younger  orother  of  William, 
a  brave  and  loyal  man.  Two  months  later  the  Marquis  of 
Berghen  and  the  Baron  of  Montigny  were  despatched  to  Spain. 
Seemingly  they  met  with  success,  for  although  Philip  definitely 
refused  to  simimon  the  States^General  Vip  ^frr^ft\  ,tn  unthrlnivr 
the  Inquisition  from  the  Netherlands,  to  include  in  a  gener^ 
pardon  all  those  approved  by  the  regent,  and  to  grant  religii 
tolerance  as  far  as  it  was  consistent  with  the  mamtenance  of 
Catholicism.     But  the  kii 

he 


these  promis^s^    He  sought  only  to  postpone   revol 
found  himself  in  a  position  to  crush  all  opposition  to  his  will. 
In  the  meantime  the  revolutionary  movement  had  been  grow- 
ing ever  more  tumultuous.    The  arm  of  the  law  seemed  para- 
lyzed.    Great  numbers  of  religious  refugees  ventured  tn  reti^^nj;^ 
and   Calvinist   an4   Anabaptist   preJirViPrg   attrarfpH   gr#^at   rmwr^g 

to  hear  them.  At  last  in-it;$6  the  pent-up  wrath  of  the  populace 
found  vent  in  a  series  of  deplorable  iconoclastic  outbreaks  _in 
the  towns,  especially  in  Antwerp  where  the  splendid  cathedral 
suflFered  irreparable  injury.    It  was  only  the  scum  nf  th^  pnpn. 

jatinn   that   inHnljAH   I'n   fU^  ^xrWA   /^fhaT^^h   ftf   p^'^^-^ff^   ""^   dP^ltr'""- 

tion,  but  their  deeds  resulted  disastrously  tn  |he  Protestant  cause 
in  the  Netherlands.  The  more  liberal  Catholics,  who  tad  l)ech 
quite  as  ardent  as  the  dissenters  in  their  resistance  to  the  Span- 
ish <q)pression,  were  alienated  by  the  desecration  of  their  sanctu- 
aries and  withdrew  from  the  revolt;  and  eventually,  in  the  last 
years  of  the  century,  there  came  about  the  separatipn  ^f  thi* 
Catholic   south   from  the  Prfttf*itan^  *^^^v»     p^^^:^£>  aware 


4&)  THE  CATHOLIC  REFORMATION 

^^*     through  his  secret  agents  of  Philip's  intention  to  crush  the  oppo- 

sition  in  the  Netherlands  and  to  punish  the  great  nobles  who 

1587-89  ^gj.^  regarded  as  the  instigators  of  the  revolt,  and  failing  to 
persuade  Egmont  and  Hoome  to  take  up  arms  with  him,  Wil- 
liam retired  on  April  22,  1^67.  with  all  his  household  to  his 
ancestral  castle  in  Germany.  Exactly  four  months  later  the 
stem  and  dreaded  duke  of  Alva  entered  Brussels,  having  brought 
with  him  into  the  Netherlands  some  eleven  thousand  Spanish, 
Italian  and  German  troops,  splendidly  equ^ped  and  controlled 
with  an  iron  discipline,  and^aving  in  his  possession  commis- 
sions  from  the  king  that  made  him  all  powi^rfnl  t^i  \ioth  civil 
and  fllUiliiiy  nicHrers^ — I'ihding  herself  to  be  r^^t  in  name 
only  Margaret  resigned,  and  with  the  acceptance  of  her  resigna- 
tietf  there  came  the  appointment  of  Alva  to  the  office. 

The  gaunt  and  war-worn  veteran  who  had  never  known  de- 
feat, fanatically  devoted  to  his  king  and  to  Catholicism,  pro- 
ceeded to  carry  out  his  instructions  to  "  arrest  and  bring  to  con- 
dign ptmishment  the  chief  persons  of  the  cotmtry  who  had 
War  and  shown  themselvcs  guilty  during  the  late  troubles."  Egmont 
tion  *  and  Hoornc_^£re  lured  to  Brussels  in  1567,  suddenlv  seized  and 
thrown  mto  prison;  and  a  tribunal  with  simmiary  procedure 
popularly  known  as  the  *'  C^ut^cj'll  nf  Rlnn4 "  was  established,  _ 
At  the  head  of  the  court  was  the  unscrupulous  duke  himself, 
and  all  the  other  members,  including  the  infamous  Juan  de 
Vargas  (who  consented  to  serve),  were  merely  his  tools. 
Wholesale  condemnations  were  made:  and  everywhere,  with 
fagot  and  ax  and  gibbet,  the  public  executioners  were  busily 
engaged  in  putting  the  heretics  and  rebels  to  death  and  in  seizing 
their  property.  Confiscation  rapidly  impoverished  the  rn^^ntry, 
and  judicial  murder  stained  it  red  with  blood;  and  when  at 
last  the  man  who  exceeded  without  remorse  the  cruelty  of  an 
age  of  cruelty  resigned  his  office  he  made  the  boast  that  he  had 
put  to  death  i8.6nn  p^p;r>n<^^in  addition  to  those  who  had  per- 
ished in  battle.  William,  declined  to  appear  before  Ihe  arbitrary 
tribunal  and  caused  three  expeditions  to  be  made  a^inst  the 
Spanish  forces.  Only  one  of  the  invasions  met  with  a  tem- 
porary  success;  but  Alva  was  so  enraged  that  he  confiscated 
William's  property,  sent  Egmont  and  Hoome  to  the  block,  and 
inflicted  a  crushing  defeat  upon  the  miscellaneous  bands  that 
Louis  of  Nassau  had  gathered  about  him.  The  two  executions 
instead  of  over-awing  the  populace  served  only  to  increase  their 
hatred  of  the  Spanish  tyranny;  and  the  slaughter  of  seven 
thousand  men  server^  only  to  increase  the  determination  of  Wilfc 
Ham  to  persevere..   For  the  time  being  Alva  was  able  to  con-* 


16e9-7S 


THE  REVOLT  OF  THE  NETHERLANDS       481 

linue  his  work  of  putting  an  end  to  the  political  autonomy  of 
the  country  and  exterminating  heresy.  In  order  to  meet  his 
financial  needs  he  proposed  to  levy  three  taxes,  (i)  a  tax  once 
for  all  of  one  per  cent  upon  ^11  prnpertYi  (2)  a  tax  of  five  per 
cent  upon  everv  sale  or  trangfer  of  landed  propertv,  and  ( 3 j|_a 
tax  of  ten  oer  cent  upon  every  galp  ni  #>vory  artiVlp  ni  t^nmmerce. 

So  ruinous  would  this  burden  have  been  and  so  brutal  were 
the  endeavors  of  Alva  to  enforce  it  that  it  met  everywhere  with 
vigorous  opposition  and  he  was  forr^d  tn  arr^pf  a  compromise. 
It  was  the  men  of  the  sea  and  not  those  of  the  land  who 
were  the  first  successfully  to  dispute  the  power  of  Alva  and 
to  b^in  tne  endmgf  Cf  tdi  atrocities.  In  I'^6q  William  gav^ 
letters  of  "^^^'qyi^  to  some  eighteen  small  vessels  to  prey  upon 
the  Spanish  ships.  The  refugees  and  desperadoes  who  manned 
the  irregular  fleet,  tVi^  "  ^\\^  beggars  of  the  sea."  soon  equaled 
the  cruel  deeds  of  the  duke,  and  William  tound  himself  unable 
fn  mntri;^l  their  ffflrfll^  KarKan'fiV^^  Within  a  year  the  number 
of  the  ships  had  increased  five-fold;  and  on  April  i,  1572,  they 
seized  the  port  of  Brill  and  ran  up  the  flag  that  later  on  was  to 
be  the  emblem  of  the  Dutch  Republic.  In  quick  succession 
pther  ports  were  captured^  Flushing,  Delf shaven  and  Schiedam ; 
and  then,  a  thrill  of  hope  running  through  the  land,  most  of  the 
important  towns  of  the  north  declared  for  William.  On  July 
15  del^;ates  from  eight  towns  met  at  Dort,  unanimously  de- 
clared William  to  be  the  Stadhouder  of  the  northern  provinces, 
and  voted  him  a  large  sum  of  money  for  carrying  on  the  war. 
But  disasters  were  to  follow.  William  entered  the  ^{^t^erlands 
from  Germany  with  20,000  men :  but  he  made  the  great  mistake 
of  failing  to  relieve  Moqp.  which,  with  French  aid,  higjbiother 
Loms  had  taken^  and  of  then  attacking  Alva  with  the  combined 
forces^  The  town  was  retaken  by  the  Spanish  troops ;  and  then 
the  south  being  cleared  of  the  revolutionary  armies,  Alva  sent 
his  raiments  into  the  north  to  wreak  a  terrible  vengeance  upon 
the  revolted  towns.  For  three  days  Mechlin  was  handed  over 
to  pillage,  torture  and  murder,  at  the  hands  of  the  brutal  sol- 
diery ;  more  barbarous  still  was  the  sack  of  Zutphen  l  and  the 
little  town  of  yaarden_was  reduced  to  ashes  and  almost  its 
entire  population  was  put  to  death.  Then  came  the  heroic  de- 
fyns^  of  TTaarlf^m  AlmAQf  surrounded  by  its  shallow  seaSyliT 
the  midst  of  the  dense  fogs  and  the  bitter  cold  of  winter,  the 
brave  city  resisted  every  attempt  of  the  besi^ng  Spaniards  to 
storm  and  to  undermine  its  walls.  At  last  on  July  11,  1573, 
after  a  siege  of  seven  months,  in  which  extreme  heroism  and 
ferocity  had  been  displayed  on  both  sides,  thej:itv  was  coni» 


483 


THE  CATHOUC  REFORMATION 


I0rt-V9 


jiillnl  to  Hiirrnadtr  and  suffered  the  fate  of  a  general  massacre. 
lWe»  however,  the  teiumiA  of  the  Spaniah  forces  piactkjly 
mded,  Thqr  were  defeated  in  their  attenqyt  to  take  Alimiaar; 
and  m  October  the  "  hegggrs  of  the  sea,^  destnqred  the  Spanish 
fleet  and  todk  its  admiral  prisoner.  Inadequate^  8iq>ported  bjr 
his  sovereign  and  brdcen  in  heart,  Alva,  at  his  own  request, 


nsuui- 

tafortte 


was  recalled  by  Philip,  and  so  on  De^moer  ic,  I573i-  the  am 
wiih  tne  iieart  of  stone,  who  everywiiere  eise  nad  oem  a  victor, 
left  the  land  which  for  six  years  he  had  deluged  with  Uood, 
and  defeated. 
The  successor  of  the  pitiless  duke  was  Don  Luis  R< 
a  man  of  milder  manners,  who  endeavored  to  bringan  end  to 
the  revolution  by  n^jotiation.  William,  however,  insisted  upoD 
three  things,  religious  freedom,  the  intq;rity  of  the  old  charters, 
and  the  witiidrawal  of  the  Spanish  tro(q>s,  which  the  king  was 
unwilling  to  grant;  and  so  the  nq;otiations  failed  and  the  war 

in  the  battle  of  Mook  the  brave  and  chivalrous  ^2llUb  "^ 
Bayard  of  the  Netherlands,"  ^fffl»  ^<*j  l|fe  ^^^ffl  T"1  ^*^*^TP^ 
for  nine  months  by  a  large  force  of  Spaniards;  but  wlien  me 
dykes  were  cut  and  the  land  was  flooded  with  water  the  sea- 
beggars  were  able  to  sail  in  shallow  barges  to  its  rescue  and  the 
dty  was  relieved.  After  a  cessation  of  hostilities  a  conf eience, 
was  held  at  Breda;  but  pwinp  to  PhJ^V^  refupl  ^  tcJcratc 
^alVltBSffl  ft  fendeci  in  failure.  The  death  of  Requescns  threw 
the  Spanish  forces  into  confusion,  in  the  midst  of  which  the 
Putg^  ^^Mff?  w^s  advanced  bv  the  union  o^  |Tn11^pH  ^nA 
laficL  a  federation  that  foreshadowed  the  union  of  all  the  m 
em  States.  Still  further,  but  at  an  appalling  cost,  was  the 
patriotic  cause  furthered  by  a  terrible  massacre  at 


On  November  4,  1576,  the  Spanish  troops  in  that  city,  mutinous 
because  of  arrears  of  pay,  seized  and  destroyed  property  of 
untold  value,  set  fire  to  the  finest  buildings,  ravished  the  women 
and  tortured  the  men,  and  put  six  thousand  men,  women  and 
children  to  death.  This  atrocious  outbreak,  known  as  ''the 
Spanish  Fgry^''  P2gd6  AnfurArp  **»h^  IP^^t  ^prlom  and  desolate 
city  of  Qiristendom  '  and  sent  a  thrill  of  horror  throughout  the 
I^h^Hands  that  for  a  time  united  the  people  despite  their  sun- 
dering antagonisms.  A  treaty  known  as  the  Pacification  of 
^Ghent  ^established  an  ani;^nrr  hrtn'tin  tht  gfm»^^*>^  p«Y>tr||^r#« 

and  Holland  and  Zeeland^  and  bound  them  tO  Unite  in  driving 

the  fore?g"^rs  ^^  of  the  country  and  then  to  consider  the 
rriipi9ys  prnhlpm  at  a  meeting  of  the  States-GeneraL  In  tiM 
meantime  all  the  placards  and  ordinances  against  heresy  were 


THE  REVOLT  OF  THE  NETHERLANDS 


483 


to  be  suspended.  Some  military  successes  followed.  Friesland 
and  Groninfp*ti  ^prp;  fpgainpH  from  the  Spaniards ;  and  then, 
in  January,  1577,  the  compact  of  Ghent  received  the  indorse- 
ment of  the  people  in  the  Union  of  Brussels,  an  agreement  that 
was  widely  signed  especially  in  the  southern' provinces.  In  the 
meantime  there  had  arrived  the  new  representative  of  Philip, 
the  illegitimate  son  of  Charles  V,  and  therefore  the  half-brother 
of  the  king.  Don  John  of  Austria  was  a  handsome  and  fasci- 
nating man,  the  liero  ot  i^epanto,  wTio  had  captured  the  sacred 
banner  of  the  Prophet,  and  struck  a  telling  blow  at  the  suprem- 
acy of  the  Crescent.  But  until  he  had  approved  the  compact 
between  the  provinces  and  sworn  to  respect  the  ancient  charac- 
ters the  States-General  declined  to  receive  him  as  governor. 
Every  way  he  turned  **  the  impetuous  and  brilliant  soldier  found 
himself  thwarted  by  the  sJpepi^<^<^  and  in<ipfatigahi<>  f|i'pir>mgif;ci^>» 
The  favorable  situation,  however,  was  suddenly  altered  by  the 
arrival  in  the  Netherlands,  with  a  force  9f  20^000  men  o^  Alex- 
ander of  Pj^rma.  a  consummate  military  genius,  and,  with  his 
patient,  temperate  and  unscrupulous  character,  scarcely  less  able 
as  a  diplomat.    At  Gembloux,  in  1578,  he  fell  upon  the  federal 

routed  it.    After  the  death  ot  bon  John,  in 
same  year,  the  victorious  commander  was  appointed  regent. 
The  new  and  artful  representative  of  the  kin^  saw  hi^  QppQf' 

np^h  and  the  soiit|^,  thp  C^^lyinists  and  the  Catholics,  and  he 


arm^ 


was  quick  to  seize  it.  In  the  following  January  he  was  able 
to  bring  about  the  Union  of  Arras  between  the  provinces  of 
Artois  and  Hainault  ain^  thf  t^^^^  ^f  ^  ''"^,  r>niiai,  ar|^  9TV!T^tf 
Tor  the  protectionof  the  Catholic  interests  in  those  districts. 
TW^  §6titnem  compact  was  answered  in  less  ^^^"  ^  ynnntVi  Uy^ 
the  Union  of  y ^f c^^lji:  ^^n  which  the  northern  provinces  of  Hol- 
land, Zeeland.  Utrecht.  Gelderlandy  and  Zutohen.  banded  them- 
selves  together  against  every  foreign  force  sent  to  oppress  them. 
Thus  the  impending  cleavage  between  the  north  and  south  be- 
came a  fact.  The  south  resumed  the  Spanish  yoke  which  it 
was  to  bear  for  yet  two  hundred  years ;  while  the  north,  although 
it  still  retained  the  allegiance  to  Spain,  began  the  formation  of 

the  heroic  little  Dutch  Republic.  

To  William  it  seemed  that  France  was  the  most  likely  source 
of  aid  for  the  northern  provinces  and  so  he  desired  them  to 
accept  the  Duke  of  Anjou,  the  heir  to  the  French  throne,  as  their 
titular  sovereign.  In  the  meantime  Alexander  of  Parma,  was 
winning  successes  in  intrigue  and  war.  He  regained  the  sup- 
port of  the  south  almost  completely;  he  captured  the  important 


OBAF. 


1578-79 


^*^T 


THE  CATHOUC  REFORMATIOM 


im-M 


aaAlkt 


tte 


town  of  Maestricht  (the  entrance  to  Germany)  almost  extenn- 
nating  the  population  of  the  place  in  diree  days  of  pillage^  oat- 
rage»  and  butchery;  and  he  recovered  Mechlin  and  Groobgen. 
On  ^ar/>ti  Tij^  TcjftT,  Yi^j^lpm  w^  pmr^Sf^iiji  mn  outlaw  and  a 

reward  of  twenty-five  thousand  crowns  and  a  patent  of  nobility 
was  offered  to  whomsoever  should  deliver  him  to  the  ldng»  dead 
or  alive,  or  put  an  end  to  his  life.  Before  !oQg  William  rejdied 
to  the  Ban  wilh  ^a^Ji^idsgM  which  refuted  every  charge  made 
against  him  and  levded  serious  accusations  against  the  king, 
more  aggressive  he  brought  about 


htue  aia  we  Dtitch  provinces  received  for  the  various  titles  tiicj 
bestowed  upon  the  false  and  ugly  duke.  Not  satisfied  witfi  hb 
nominal  rule  he  determined  to  nmke  himself  the  actual  ruler  by 
force.  But  the  ''French  Fury/'  an  attenqyt  in  1583  to  seise 
Antwerp,  and  with  it  WHliam  of  Orange,  was  a  faihire,  and 
five  months  later  j^njnii  r^tm^^  w%  '^xK^^  At  last,  on  Tnly 
10  of  the  following  year,  avarice  and  fanaticism  had  their  wqr- 
[iam,  after  no  less 

ipm  he  had  just  befriended.    Thus  passed  away  the 

enl  of  all  time.  It  is  not  possible  to  justify  his  every  word  and 
Seed.  Sut  for  his  undaunted  devotion  in  the  face  of  every 
danger  to  the  cause  of  his  country's  liberty  and  for  his  relipous 
tolerance  in  which  he  was  the  pioneer  among  modeinprmces  lie 
deserves  the  lasting  admiration  ot  men.  From  tke  very  b^in- 
ning  of  his  public  career  he  aimed  to  secure  for  the  Netherlands 
rivir  lihprty  ^pj  religious  tolerancc.     ims  aim  he  kept  always 


civic  libc 
clearly  ii 


clearly  in  mind.  At  first  he  did  not  deem  independence  from 
Spain  to  be  necessary  to  attain  these  desired  ends.  Only  grad- 
ually did  he  perceive  them  to  be  inseparable  from  revolution. 
Then  he  desired  to  see  the  whole  of  the  Low  G>untries  in- 
cluded in  the  new  State  and  he  y^as  convinced  only  at  the  last 
hour  that  such  a  dream  was  vain.  Deficient  in  important  re- 
spects both  as  a  general  and  as  a  practical  statesman  he  yet  won 
all  that  could  be  won  of  the  high  aim  he  cherished  in  his  heart 
by  the  almost  superhuman  tenacity  with  which  he  clung  to  it 
The  hour  of  his  untimely  death  was  indeed  a  dark  one  for  his 
country.  And  yet  his  task  was  done.  Th^  cfr^gr^[^  ^f  ^f^in 
was  already  sapped  by  the  long  and  exhaustiny  fftrVlgg^^i  ^"^ 
tour  years  later  it  was  shattered  by  the  defeat  of  the  Armada. 


THE  REVOLT  OF  THE  NETHERLANDS      485 


His  life  was  a  series  of  failures.    Rut  nuf;  ^f  fhnQt»>^  f5ii1iir<>s  stf^     %^' 

the  frt^jt  of  his  imperturbable  e^f1iiranr<>  anH  TiJQ  QtPAHfast  Hftvn- 

tion,  there  arose  a  suyular  triiunolL — the  freedom  of  the  land 
for  which  he  had  sultered  and  died.  


1684^9 


The  central  government  of  the  revolted  provinces  consisted 
of  their  States-General.  Possessed  of  little  power,  and  realiz-  n* 
ing  its  serious  weakness  and  the  perilous  strait  of  the  country,  SSt^"*" 
that  body  looked  for  aid  to  a  foreign  ruler.  When  negotiations 
with  Henry  III  of  France  came  to  naught,  Elizabeth  of  Eng- 
lapH  was  approached.  Declining  to  accept  the  sovereignty  of 
the  Dutch  provinces,  that  shifty  and  parsimonious  princess  con- 
tracted to  maintain  in  the  Netherlands  5,000  foot  and  1,000  horse 
on  condition  01  bemg  repaid  ior  th^  ftkpettSC.  Itt  th^  midst  of 
tlie  Aaggiing  over  tne  petty  details  of  the  Bargain,  Parma,  after 
a  six  months'  siege,  captured  Antwerp.  Only  after  that  event 
was  the  English  force  sent  over.  Its  commander  was  the  Earl 
of  Leicester,  the  queen's  favorite,  who  allowed  himself,  without 
consulting  his  sovereign,  to  be  invested  with  almost  supreme 
authority^  under  the  title  of  governor-general.  Elizabeth  had 
feared  to  commit  herself  too  completely  against  Spain  and  so 
her  cunning  as  well  as  her  jealousy  resulted  in  an  outburst  of 
re^r  agjaipg^  hpr  *'  sweet  Robin."  As  a  consequence  6f  the 
quarrel  the  suspicions  of  the  Dutch  regarding  the  intentions  of 
Elizabeth  were  aroused.  Leicester  was  no  man  to  make  the 
best  of  so  difficult  a  situation.  He  could  not  speak  the  lan- 
guage of  the  country;  he  did  not  understand  the  people  with 
whom  he  had  to  deal ;  and  he  was  neither  sagacious  nor  tactful. 
It  was  chiefly  the  governing  classes  who  suspected  the  English 
motives ;  so  ^?it?f^^^^"^^^  ^^^  ciippnH-  fn  tli^  ppr^p]^  In  pur- 
suance  of  his  democratic  policy  he  committed  a  number  of 
egregious  errors,  ^^**Pfflinp  tb^  mony  Htyjc|j^ps  nf  th^  loosely^ 
amnected  provinces.  So  in  spite  of  the  fact  that  Philip,  bent 
upon  his  pf^araiions  for  an  invasion  of  England,  failed  to  send 
efficient  aid  to  Parma,  the  year  1586  was  one  of  disaster  for  the 
patriotic  cause.  Free  rein  was  given  to  the  separatist  forces; 
and  ♦^^  p^^v^'5]<;;f <^  ^^^TH^  inrrp^sinplv  antagonistic;  tr^  ^arh  nfht^j 
Grave  and  Venloo  were  captured  by  the  Spanish  commander, 
and  Deventer  and  Zutphen  were  surrendered  to  him.  Later  on 
he  took  the  important  seaport  of  Sluys.  Then,  broken  in  purse, 
in  health,  and  in  spirit,  Leicester  returned  to  Ehgland.  It  was 
in  the  hope  that  Spain's  threatened  attack  upon  England  would 
thereby  be  averted,  that  Elizabeth  had  refrained  from  accepting 
the  sovereignty  of  the  northern  provinces.  The  hope  was  vain. 
On  May  30,  1588,  the  Armada  sailed  for  the  English  Channel, 


486 


THE  CATHOLIC  REFORMATION 


UM-lMt 


but  only  to  meet  with  a  crashing  defeat    In  the  followiiig  yctr 
a  fninf  ]}[^frh  g^^  Ellg^^^**  eacoeditjop  to  Portqgal  inflicted  gome 

indicated  a  rapprochemitU 
int^ests  were 


jipoa 


lyyjLLv 


le  destiny  of  the  di^ded  provinces  was  now  in  the  hands 
of  two  men,  a  statesman  and  a  soldier,  each  the  necessary  cooi- 
plement  of  the  other.  Johan  van  Olden-Barneydd  (1547- 
1619),  trained  as  a  lawyer|  had  become  the  ppHpipji'  mip^gty 
in  Ae  province  ot  JHoUana  and  its  chief  qx>kesman  in  the  States- 
'(SentoiT  He  was  a  statesman  of  great  ability,  and  he  **»**«"^, 
die  ^'^^?iir^^''  ^^  **"**  ^fr^  B#>piihiir  Philip  William,  tiie 
-xMesf^n  of  the  martyred  WiUiam,  had  been  IcMnapped  in  Us 
boyhood  by  Philip  II  of  Spain  and  brought  up  in  Bladrid.  So 
his  next  oldest  brother,  Maurice  o^  ^^^n  (iS^T-i^JS),  a 
bom  soldier  and  a  master 


general  anH  s^Hmiful  of  the  Union  as  well  as  the  stadhouder  of 
every  province  except  Friesiand.  Assisted  by  his  cousin,  Wl- 
liam  Louis  of  Nassau,  Maurice  effc 

Dutch  army;  transforming,  with  better  drill,  better  discqdine^ 
ter  am^,  and  r^fular  pay,  the  motlqr  mob  of  William's  time 
into  a  fighting  machine  that  could  cope  successfully  with  die 
Spaniards  in  the  field.  When  these  reforms  were  under  way 
JIaurice  began  the  task  of  reducing  the  Spanish  stroyrfiolda  in 
the  northern  provmces.  Early  m  igoo^Brma  was  taiEm  by  an 
ingenious  surprise ;  in  1591  ^]tr^**),  Devcnter.  Hj]lat»  and  Ny- 
megcn  were  captured;  in  1592  Steoiwyck  and  Ko^vor^^  sur- 
rendered;  and  in  1593  Cj;i^ertniideni)upg  and  Gronmyn  were  re- 
gained. .  Thus  at  the  age  of  twenty-seven  Maurice  having 
practically  driven  the  Spaniards  from  the  Dutch  provinces,  had 
proved  himself  to  be  one  of  the  ablest  generals  of  his  time. 
In  the  meantime,  in  1592,  Alexander  of  Parma  had  died.  There 
came  to  the  Netherlands  in  his  place  the  archduke  Ernest  of 
Austria  who  in  turn  was  succeeded  by  the  archduke  Albert  of 
~^~^  Some  Spanish  successes  were  toUowed  in  1596  by  a 
triple  alliance  between  l<rahCe,  England,  attd  the  Liutch,  tn  whicn 
the  independence  of  the  United  Frovmces  was  recognized  by 
the  allies.    A  long  series  of  victol 


ras  achieved  by  Maurice 
in  the  following  year;  and  then,  in  May,  1598,  the  southern 
provinces  were  bestowed  by  Philip  as  a  separate  State  upon  the 
archduke  Albert,  who,  in  tiie  same  year,  married  Isabella,  Phil- 
ip's eldest  daughter.  A  desultory  war  between  the  southern  and 
the  northern  State  dragged  out  iteweary  length  until  1609, 

when  a  try^^^  nf  fwrive.  yeftr;^  yirttially  recogrni^ed  the  inV^gp<mH- 

^ence  of  the  latter. 


THE  REVOLT  OF  THE  NETHERLANDS       487 


rhc  Dutch  State  was  made  up  of  seven  provinces  —  Gelder- 

d,  Utrecht,  Friesland,  Overyssel,   Groningen,  Zeeland,  and 
lland.    Drenth,  because  of  its  poverty  and  its  sparse  popula-   ^••••^•^ 
1,  was  not  admitted  into  the  union  as  a  separate  State  until  TiMi>stA 
6.    The  long  struggle  had  hound  the  people  together,  though  Jjj*^ 
ny  difficulties  still  remained;  and  with  one  will  they  set  to 
rk,  eagerly  and  intelligently,  with  unexampled  enterprise,  to  '^ 
rease  the  industrial  and  commercial  importance  of  their  coun- 

The  generation  of  almost  continuous  warfare  had  by  no 
uis  exhausted  them.  As  fishers,  shipbuilders,  carriei^s.  and 
ierSt  they  made  the  sea  their  own.  Every  sea  and  every 
re  saw  the  sails  of  their  ships  —  the  Baltic,  the  Mediter- 
ean,  the  Gold  Coast  of  Africa,  the  East  and  West  Indies, 
I  even  the  coasts  of  far  Cathay.  Their  weavers'  looiya  were 
er  idle ;  their  ^universities  became  the  chief  centers  of  leam- 
;  ana  tneir  printmp-presses  were  the  most  important  in  Eu; 

e.  Their  scholars,  as  we  snail  see  in  our  last  chapter,  were 
3ng  the  most  distinguished  of  the  later  Renaissance.  They 
ceded  every  other  nation  in  political  progress,  for  it  was  thqr 

thp  way  fnr 


CHAPTER  XXVI 

THE  REUGIOUS  WARS  IN  FRANCE 

1.  France  at  the  Outbreak  of  the  Religions  Wars. 

2.  The  Provocations. 

3.  The  Wars. 

CTttAP.  A  T  the  outbreak  of  the  religious  wars  in  France  that  coun- 
•*^^*  XjL  try  was  in  a  very  disorganized  condition.  The  maladmin- 
1659  istration  of  the  government,  the  financial  extortion  of  which 
TheAmbi-  it  had  been  guilty,  oppressed  the  lower  classes  and  put  them  in 
^^Jjj^^  a  state  of  sore  discontent,  and  all  the  severe  measures  to  which 
da'  Mediei  Henry  II  had  resorted  had  failed  to  check  the  spread  of  heresy. 
When  that  monarch  died,  his  wife,  £it^^^^^nr^  ^^  i^a/<;i^  hrrar^ 
£nr  thp  first  time  an  important  factor  in  the  aflFairs  of  France. 
For  a  quarter  of  a  century  she  had  been  neglected  by  Her 
royal  husband;  but  as  soon  as  her  son  succeeded  to  the  throne 
^jTP^pgar^  her  attempts  to  make  herself  the  actu^J  mler-  She 
did  not  understand  the  people  with  whom  her  lot  was  cast ;  and 
she  remained  always  an  alien  in  their  midst.  True  daughter 
of  the  Florentine  despots,  she  looked  at  France  through  the 
eyes  of  an  Italian  prince  of  the  Renaissance  period.  The  State, 
so  it  seemed  to  her,  existed  for  the  benefit  of  its  ruler;  and 
power,  an  end  in  itself,  was  to  be  gained,  regardless  of  l^al 
or  moral  restraint,  by  any  device  that  promised  success.  Her 
own  personal  advantage,  or  that  of  her  children,  was  with  her 
the  mainspring  of  action.  She  could  not  understand  men  who 
were  impelled  by  a  fanaticism  or  a  passion  that  balked  not  at 
self-sacrifice.  It  was  a  matter  of  indifference  to  her  whether 
the  men  who  served  her  ends  were  Catholics  or  Calvinists. 
She  was  tolerant,  but  it  was  the  tolerance  of  indifference,  and 
not  that  of  a  wide  spiritual  horizon.  Her  son,  Francis  II  ( 1559- 
60),  was  a  boy  not  yet  sixteen,  weak  in  mind  and  body.  He 
was  married  to  Mary  Stuart,  a  beautiful  and  brilliant  girl,  niece 
of  the  duke  of  Guise  and  his  brother  Cardinal  Lorraine.  It 
was  these  powerful  uncles  of  the  queen  who  were  to  be  the 
first  obstacles"  in  the  path  of  Catherine.    But  there  were  policies 


THE  RELIGIOUS  WARS  IN  FRANCE  489 


1609 


js  well  as  people  that  were  to  stand  in  the  way  of  the  fulfilment 
of  her  ambition.  '^ 

TW6  iaiths"divided  the  land.  The  Catholics  ^^x  c^t^tptimhered 
die  Calvinist^.  But  the  Huguenots,  as  the  latter  were  called,  n* 
were  by  no  means  insignificant  in  number.  By  the  middle  of  JJ^lIo- 
die  sixteenth  century  they  had,  perhaps,  somewhere  between  iioiii.Mid 
300,000  and  400,000  members ;  and  it  is  estimated  that  when  the  £^^2^]^ 
wars  of  religion  broke  out  there  were  1,500,000  of  them.  In  Adniy 
spite  of  persecution,  they  were  to  be  found  in  every  province. 
particularly^Ja  the  oowth;  and  in  every  class  of  society,  even 
among  theecclesiastics,  but  ^iefly  among  the  working  classes 
in^the  towns.  Interwoven  with  uiese  two  {aitks  were  several 
factions.  One  was  grouped  about  the  person  of  Anne  de  Mont- 
mo^soiQ^  constable  of  France,  an  able  general  and  an  ambitious 
and  cruel  man.  He  had  three  nephews,  the  Chatillons,  who 
were  men  of  note  and  chief  of  whom  was  Gaspard  de  Coligny, 
the  admiral.  A  yfiViOP^  ^^^ti^n  Y^^*^  ^^^h^vp^^A  ahnnt  ^^  nui<;^<^^ 
These  powerful  lords,  whose  home  was  in  Lorraine,  then  not 
yet  a  part  of  France,  were  dism^ed^  both  because  they  were 
strangers  and  because  of  their  aggressive  ambition.  Francis, 
duke  of  Guise,  had  won  a  reputation  as  a  successful  soldier; 
and  both  he  and  his  brother  were  possessed  of  a  grasping  tem- 
per. Charles,  Cardinal  of  Lorraine,  was  a  man  of  penetrating 
insight,  eloquent,  scholarly,  avaricious,  and  unscrupulous. 
Their  sister  Mary  had  been  married  to  James  V  of  Scotland, 
and  it  was  her  daughter,  Mary  Stuart,  who  was  the  wife  of  the 
young  king.  A  third  faction  had  for  its  head  Antoine  de  Bour- 
who,  having  married  Jeanne  d^Aloret,  tne  only  child  ot  the 
ftf  iN^^iirrii  ^^^  succeeded  to  that  throne  upon  the  death 
^f  his  father-in-law.  The  little  kingdom  now  consisted  of  only 
a  few  square  miles  on  the  northern  slope  of  the  Pyrenees,  but 
its  ruler  was  a  sovereign  monarch.  Antoine  did  not  cease  to 
bt  a  French  nobleman  when  he  became  king  of  Navarre.  He 
M^as  the  nearest  blood  relative  to  the  French  royal  family.  Nat- 
urally the  direction  of  affairs  during  the  youth  of  the  king 
ihould  have  fallen  to  him,  but  this  robust,  affable  and  generous 
man  was  also  vain,  vacillating,  and  essentially  weak  in  char- 
icter.  rnthtrinr  was  sagacious  enough  to  see  that  she  could 
aot  clear  the  path  in  front  of  her  of  all  three  of  these  factions. 
So  she  threw  \r^  her  Int  with  \\\e  (^^^js^g  But  it  was  they  and 
lot  she  who  assumed  control  of  the  national  gyvfrt]m<^(  That 
jDvemment  had  become  J]ijJTly  cer\\^^\7eA  The  feudal  nobility 
fiad  lost  much  of  their  former  power;  and  the  towns  had  also 
l)ccn  deprived  of  the  most  important  of  the  governmental  priv- 


490 


THE  CATHOLIC  REFORBCATION 


ileges  they  once  possessed.  But  the  nobility  had  by  no  mem 
hem  reduced  to  impotence.  Owning;  great  estates  and  Iivtqg  ia 
fortified  castles,  thqr  were  the  most  powerfol  dasa  in  the  Im^B- 
dom;  and  thqr  were  eager  to  seize  eveiy  ppportnnity  to  vegua 
something  of  their  former  independence.  The  administratioa 
of  governmental  affairs  under  Henry  II  had  been  wasteful  and 
incompetent  Existing  taxes  had  been  increased  and  new  ooa 
imposed.  In  the  twdve  years  of  that  monarch's  rdgn  mofC 
taxes  were  extorted  from  the  people  of  France  than  in  the 
preceding  forty  years.    Very  naturally  discontent  was  rife. 

The  control  of  the  young  king  by  the  Guises  and  the  ympa* 
tion  of  power  by  these  hatai  "  f< 

To  the  ranks  of  thi  Huyuttbb  there  were  addSI  nobles  wio 
were  opposed  to  the  power  of  the  Guises  and  who  wished  to  re- 
gain their  feudal  independence.    Thus.  

ybined  to  produce  the  wars  in  FrancTSat  were  to  last  for  ahnost 
Mlf  tt  LeuLuijfi  II  WU  planned  to  seiase  Cardinal  Lorraine  and 
the  duke  of  Guise,  to  obtain  possession  of  the  king;  and  dwn  to 
assemble  the  States-GeneraL    The  ** 

But  the  cruel  punishment  inflicted  upon 


spirators  served  only  to  fan  the  flames  of  discontent  There 
were  frequent  outbreaks  of  disorder.  Even  in  the  oourt  mafly 
approved  of  the  attempt  to  suppress  the  tyranny  of  the  Guisei. 
Catherine,  the  queen-mother,  was  ill-pleased  by  their  assunqitioo 
of  power  that  naturally  belonged  to  her.  So  when  Francob 
Oliver,  one  of  their  followers  who  held  the  office  of  chancellor, 
died  she  was  active  in  the  appointment  of  Michel  de  THopttal 
in  his  place.    A  few  wedcs  later,  May,  1560,  the  edid-of-Sn;, 

tprantin  was  issued,  rAcfnring  ^^  »ti<i  fk^ET  ^^^  jiiriftHif^(yn  of 
religious  a] 

that  had  hitherto  been  ^TOp!?y^  With  hr'r^^*'  A  supplementary 
decree  limited  the  action  of  bishops  against  religious  dissenters 
to  preachers  and  to  those  persons  who  permitted  heretical  meet- 
ings to  be  held  in  their  houses.  The  f'^^atifTTf  ^^''t  rff"^*'^  TT7* 
[ayorable  to  the  Huguenots.  So  they  grew  in  strength.  And 
tne  personal  attack  upon  the  Guises  increased  in  vigor.  But 
those  strongly  entrenched  nobles  were  not  easily  to  be  deprived 
of  their  ascendancy.  Louis,  Prince  of  Cond6,  a  younger  brother 
of  Antoine  of  Navarre,  was  arrested  on  the  charge  of  being  con- 
cerned in  the  outbreaks  in  southern  France,  tried  and  sentenced 
to  death.  Only  the  death  of  the  king  prevented  the  execution 
of^e  sentence. 

The  new  king,  Charles  IX   (1560-74),  was  a  child  of  ten. 
So  the  king  tfi  ^avarre.  the  oldest  and  neare^  prince  of  the 


THE  RELIGIOUS  WARS  IN  FRANCE 


491 


blood,  ^ramt  r^^^t     But  f^r  r*  ^^""^  r>»fVi^n^'nf^  «^i^^/^opr<o/i  ;n 
making  herself  th<*  rp;^l  mler.    Throughout  the  land  there  was 
such  an  insistent  demand   for  the  summoning  of  the  Stages-     ^••^^••* 
General  to  inquire  into  the  affairs  of  State  and  Church,  to  re-  Pxoroea- 
dress  the  grievances  of  the  nation,  that,  after  an  interval  of  2^^, 
eighty  years,  that  body  was.xoa:KfiafidJ)"c^  more.    Three  prob- 
lems confronted  the  delegates  assembled  at  Orleans  in  Decem- 
ber, I5^g^  religion,  the  r^^nrm  gf  thi  finanna^    and  the  reform 

of  the  courts  of   law.       Wi>hr^^|f  ^^TUrg  *^   ^|!1Y   fi^^^    /-f>n^1it<^jrinc 

le  Estates  were  pcoa^g^gd  and  did  not  meet  again  until  August, 
1561,  at  Pontoise.  Just  as  the  adjournment  at  Orleans  took 
place  a  coyal  yHiVt  yy^g  t'cci^^rl  prr^viHi'ngr  for  the  r^ssatjon  of  all 
persecutinn  fij^r  rpligrjnn  and  the  release  of  all  who  were  im- 
prisoned  upon  the  charge  of  heresy.  Thus  encouraged,  the 
^"g11fi"^^1  It^^^fV^  insolent  and  defiant,  many  of  their  preachers 
flocked  back  to  France  from  Geneva  and  Germany,  congregfa- 
tions  and  meetings  were  held  openly  in  many  places,  dangerous 
riots  occurred  in  all  parts  of  the  country,  and  civil  war  seemed 
ttntniniyt-^  The  sittings  of  the  States-General  at  Pontoise  failed 
to  effect  a  satisfactory  settlement  of  the  secular  problems ;  and 
the  Colloquy  of  Poissy,  held  almost  simultaneously  at  the  insti- 
gation  of  Catherine,  far  from  producing  the  desired  religious 
unity,  did  not  even  conciliate  the  opposing  sects,  but  proyed 
instead  to  be  "the  watershed  from  which  the  two  r^ljgions 
parted^'  Disappolhced  m  her  purpose  of  finding  a  common 
ground  upon  which  the  Catholics  and  Calvinists  could  agree, 
and  failing  also  to  arrange  a  compromise  that  would  satisfy  both 
sides,  the  queen-mother  caused  to  be  issued  the  provisional 
Edict  of  Tanuarv  (1^62)  which,  awaiting  the  decisions  of  the 
(x)uncil  of  Trent,  permitted  the  Huguenots  tc>  gathpr  for  wvr- 
cliip  it^  ^py  pio/-^  ^ilti^l^f  thfi  Wfill^fl  ^<^w"<^     But  even  this  degree 


of  toleration  proved  impossible  for  the  administration  to  carry 
out.  For  some  time  forces  }in<;ti1p  tp  th^  insi^^'*^^*^"T^ry  hf^'^t^'r* 
had  been  drawing  together.  The  duke  of  Guise  and  the  Consta- 
ble Montmorency,  heads  of  opposing  laciions.  t>erATnp  rprnnri1#>HJ 
each  other.  Tn  them  wag  nAt^t^A  St  Ap^r^j  ^^^  of  the  mar- 
shals of  France,  a  tool  of  the  Guises.  This  powerful  trium-\ 
virate  was  joined  later  on  bv  Antoine  of  Navarre,  who,  by 
various  consideratioris,  one  of  which  was  the  promise  to  bestow 
upon  him  as  a  reward  "  the  kingdom  of  Tunis,"  had  been  made 
"  never  so  earnest  on  the  Protestant  side  as  he  was  now  furious 
on  the  other."  Opposed  to  these  militant  Catholics  was  a  much 
weaker  group,  consisting  of   the  courageous   and   fascinating 

B.  brother  of  Navarre,  and  the  three  Qiatillons. 


493 


THE  CATHOLIC  REFOR]£ATION 


UflOW 


ond  B«lf- 
ftowWar 


n^hews  of  the  Constable,  one  of  whom,  as  we  have  aeeot  nas 
the  masterful  Coligny.  Tjim«if «  mnj  maaaacrea  coiitip"**|  f* 
lace  mvariotts  parts  of  the  ooimtiy,  the  oiost  aenoos  of 
wnicn  was  %  conflict  at  Vassy,  o"  Minfr  ^i  I^  between  aimed 
retainers  oi  the  duice  ot  umse  and  a  iboci^  of  Huguenots  whs 
were  ccmducting  religious  services  in  a  barn.  The  guuMOSJl' 
^ty  heretics  and  the  woimding  of  many  others  fp  incensed  the 
Protestants  throughout  France  that  it  acted  aa  the  aoarfc  far 
•which  the  fuel  was  waiting.  Gvil  w^ 
Hbi  the  first  of  the  long  series  of  religious  wars  (1563-^)  the 

Despite  the  presence  of  English  troops^  3fflBfr  which  next  to 
Paris  was  the  most  important  dty  in  France*  was  o^Muied  bj 
the  duke  of  Guise.  Yet  the  loss  of  the  town  was  not  without  its 
compensation.  In  the  attack  the  ^^g  7f  tf  ^^'^'^  received  a 
mortal  ^^"Hi  and  the  leadership  of  his  house  devolved  iqxMi 
Condi  and  upon  Antoine's  soa,  a  lad  of  nine,  who  in  hian 
years  was  to  lead  the  Protestant  cause.  Then  followed  a  desul- 
tory warfare  in  the  south;  while  in  the  north  waa  fou|^  die 
battle  of  Dreux.  in  whidi  the  WiwM^nni^  yf^mrm  iwmtfp  la 
February,  15639  the  jiilrr  ^f  fiiiinn  TTQt  att ntrinitrd  by  a  fanaticsl 


Huguenot    The  death  of  the  Catholic  leader  so  altoed  the 
dition  of  affairs  that  less  than  a  month  later  the  PadficatJon  of 

igd.  The  provisions  of  the  edict,  whidk  pei^ 
mitted  the  Hugu^ts  to  worship  in  certain  presaribed  {daces, 
failed  to  satisfy  either  side,  but  under  them  peace  was  maintained 
for  several  years.  In  this  interval  of  peace  the  country  was  vir- 
tually ruled  by  the  learned,  cultured,  and  tolerant  chancellor, 
Michel  de  THopital,  leader  of  the  moderate  Catholic  party. 

But  despite  the  efforts  of  the  wise  and  tolerant  chancellor, 
theological  acrimony  continued  to  increase.  Fearful,  in  the  first 
place,  that  Spain  and  France  might  join  forces  to  exterminate 
them  and,  later,  that  a  body  of  Swiss  troops  employed  to  watdi 
Alva's  march  from  Savoy  to  the  Netherlands  was  really  intended 
to  be  used  against  them,  the  Huguenots,  in  September,  1567,  at- 


tempted  to  «^^^>*^  ^^**  ^ 


The  plot  which  failed  to 


accomplish  its  purpose,  npener^  \\^^^  ^yrnnH   ly^r   (1567-68).     It 

was  pot  only  religious  rancor^  that  had  fanned  the  smoldering 
fire  into  flame,  ivfany  nf  the  "pngiiennt  nobles  were  animated  by 
political  ambition!  and  the  bourgeoisie  were  actuated  bv  ttie 
>ire  to  effect  administrative  anrTprQnpmip  f^^/^rtw     The  most 


important  event  m  this  second  clash  of  arms  was  the  battle  pf 
St  Denis,  which,  despite  the  overwhelming  number  of  the  Cad^ 
lies,  resulted  somewhat  to  the  advantage  of  the  HuguenoISi 


1668-7S 


THE  RELIGIOUS  WARS  IN  FRANCE  493 

And  when  the  queen-mother  and  the  chancellor,  because  of  the     ^^ 
mortal  wounding  of  the  constable,  found  their  influence  increased, 
it  became  possible  in  the  following  year,  1568,  to  issue  the  edict 
of  Lonjumeau,  which  was  in  the  main  a  confirmation  of  the  edict 

tbat  encle<i  tn^  lirst  war.  ~  " 

As  usual  neither  side  was  satisfied  with  the  settlement.    In- 
deed, the  third  war  (1568-70)  broke  out  in  less  than  six  months. 
This  time  it  was  the  ^ntho^*'"°  ^^0  op?"^  ^ostili^iff.    Cond£  n« 
and  Coligny  got  wind  of  a  plot  to  seize  them  and  narrowly  *^^^ 
escaped  to  La  Rochelle,  the  western  stronghold  of  the  Hugue-  war 
nots.    The  HispniRRfll  f^f  T  'F^r'^^^l  ^"^ni  ?fficfi  P"^  thn  rtvQCfttifm 
of  ^ft  yjiftfi  nf  »^^^^^'^^  indicated  that  the  Catholics  intended 
to  be  more  aggressive  than  before.    In  the  battfe  of 
March,  1569,  Conde  was  slain.    He  was  succeeded  as  the  leader 
of  the  Huguenot  party  by  a  boy  of  sixteen,  Henry,  son  of  An- 
toine  of  Navarre ;  and  G>ligny  was  made  the  commander-in-chief 
of  their  forces.    More  serious  was  the  defeat  sustained  by  the 
Huguenots  in  October  at  Moncontour.    And  yet  in  spite  of  their 
reverses  the  Peace  of  St.  Germain.  lyo.  was  more  favorable  to 
them  than  the  edicts  that  had  ended  the  previous  wars.    After 
ten  years  of  internecine  warfare  both  the  government  and  the 
people  of  France  desired  peace.    Only  the  ambition  of  the  Guises 
and  the  interference  of  Spain  in  the  affairs  of  France  made  the 
new  cessation  of  hostilities  of  so  short  a  duration. 

In  order  to  strengthen  the  position  of  France  against  Spain 
and  to  forward  her  own  interests  and  those  of  her  children 
Catherine  planned  to  marry  one  of  her  sons,  first  the  duke  of  n« 
Anjou  and  then  the  duke  of  Alengon,  to  Elizabeth  of  England,  ^^^^, 
and  to  marry  her  daughter,  Mar^^rfit  0^  Va1m<^,^  Henry  of  thoUwMw 
Navarre.    Tne  first  of  these  projected  marriages  csune  to  naught ;  fou^ 
but  on  August  18,   1572,  the  second  was  performed.    Many  Migi«M 
Huguenots  had  flocked  to  Paris  to  be  there  at  the  time  of  the 
nuptials.    Not  all  of  them  were  careful  to  avoid  offending  the 
intensely  Catholic  populace  of  Paris.    And  their  exuberance  of 
spirits  probably  made  the  political  ascendancy  of  Coligny  seem 
greater  than  was  actually  the  case.    That  ascendancy  aroused 
the  jealous  animosity  of  Catherine.    Ever  since  the  death  of  her 
husband  she  had  sought  to  secure  political  control  for  herself 
by  balancing  one  party  against  the  other.    By  his  ascension  to 
power  in  the  Huguenot  party,  and  by  his  influence  over  the  king, 
Coliypy  had  upset  that  balance  and  had  become  an  obstacle  in 
her  path.    So  she  plotted  his  death.    On  August  22  an  assassin 

ti{vin  ffig  a/Im7ra*^  piif  succeeded  only  ^'"  JPflJC^^g  i^  S^P^"^ 

lyipituT    The  plot  had  resulted  not  in  the  removal  of  the  enemy 


494 


THE  CATHOUC  REFORMATION 


UVMt 


but  only  in  maldiig  him  moi^  dangerous.  Wild  widi  ng^  and 
fear  the  queen-mother  took  council  with  die  dukes  of  Guue  and 
Anjou  and  with  several  others.  The  king  was  won  over  to  die 
action  upon  which  they  determined.  Long  before  the  day  brake 
on  the  feast  of  St  Bartholomew,  August  24,  the  tocsin  wai 
sounded  for  a  general  masaacr*^  ^^  ^  ^us^umota.  It  is  impos- 
sible to  say  how  many  were  lolled  in  I'aris.  The  estimates  raqge 
from  one  thousand  to  ten  times  that  number.  It  seems  to  be 
well  established  that  the  massacre  in  the  capital  was  unpremedi- 


tated, that  it  resulted  from  the  momentaiy  fear  and  the  jealooi 
passicm  of  the  queen-mother.    But  the  subsequent  ffriniiigp^ 

manaacneft  ygre  H^liheratrfy  ^ffieri^   in  mlH   h\nn(i      The  total 


number  of  victims,  according  to  the  computation  of  Sully,  was 

Ae  low^  ^'•^^'HitB  ^ 
has  been  made.  The  wholesale  slaughto-  ot  the  Huguenots  by 
no  means  put  an  end  to  the  difficulties  of  Catherine.  **  France^" 
said  Sully,  '^  atoned  for  the  massacre  by  twenty-six  years  of  dis- 
aster, carnage,  and  horror.    The 

ig  r^frgi  Frati#v>    ati/l  T  j  P#^lM>l|g  m  the 

west    It  was  th^  ^fffitj  \t%  ♦aW  th^  and  tf^ater  dtadds  <rf 


in  the  south,  Sancerre 


Twenty  thousand  lives  were  lost  in  the  unsuccess 


Twenty 
SocheU< 


le.  Peace  wan  mnrludi^rflf  mat  place  in  June,  15:^3; 
Every  individual  was  allowed  to  believe  as  he  desired,  imt  pen^ 
sion  to  hold  public  worship  was  granted  only  to  La  Rochdlc, 
Nimcs,  and  Montauban.  Later  on  tbe  same  pnvil^^e  was  ex- 
tended  to  Sancerre.  In  spite  of  these  provisions  the  war  dragged 
on  in  the  south.  Weary  of  the  continual  warfare  there  was  grad* 
ually  formed  among  the  moderate  Catholics  a  new  party  known  as 
the  "  EolitiSBSS:''  They  were  opposed  to  the  aggressive  Catho- 
lics, headed  by  the  Guises,  anH  <>nt<*^^  jntn  n  worlri^ 
JY^h  thf  ^"<711T"^^5i  Jealousy  among  the  Catholic  nobles  was 
doubtless  a  factor  in  the  formation  of  this  new  party,  but  its 
members  were  also  imbued  with  a  genuine  desire  to  put  an  end 
to  the  long«-continued  religious  warfare  and  its  depopulation  and 
impoverishment  of  the  kingdom.  **  A  man  does  not  cease  to  be 
a  citizen,"  they  said,  "  because  he  is  excommunicated."  In  the 
fipnfii  [be  Hqguyp^  themselves  were  much  better  organized  dian 
they  had  ever  been  before.  At  the  end  of  1573  they  had  formed 
a  confederation  that,  under  a  written  scheme  of  government, 
took  charge  of  the  war,  r^ulated  finances,  administered  civil 
affairs  aiid  provided  for  religious  protection.  Thus  they  f orm^ 
a  state  wit^iua-JS^te.    In  their  ranks  the  bouigeoisie  had 


THE  RELIGIOUS  WARS  IN  FRANCE 


495 


167i-7« 


Lined  power,  while  the  influence  of  the  nobles  had  declined. 
8  a  consequence  republican  ideas  had  become  widespread  among 
em.  These  ideas  found  expression  in  many  political  pamphlets 
:  which  one  is  the  Franco-GaUia  of  FVanr^nUJJpftriaTi  ^ho  for 
me  years  had  lived  in  Geneva,  an3  anotKcr  is  the  Vindicue 
mtra  Tyrannos  of  Duplessis-Momay.  It  was  under  such  con- 
uons  mat  the  HUgUM6l^  put  tortn  their  most  sweeping  de- 
ands.  They  required  from  the  king  the  unhindered  exercise 
:  their  religion  throughout  France,  tne  jnamtenance  at  national 
g)ense  o^  iiuguenot  garrisons  in  every  stronghold  possessed 
r  them,  and  the  cession  of  two  fortresses  in  every  prQvinqe 
the  kingdom  as  a  secunty  that  the  compact  would  be  kept, 
alheflnc  WU'^hftqpus  at  the  demands  of  ces  miserables,  as  she 
ibbed  them,  and  the  unfavorable  reception  of  the 
tpulatio"*^  "^aHp  if^fY^^^Mff  t^p^^^^^  wan 


lU: 


At  the  beginning  of  the  fifth  war  (1574-76)  the  Huguenots 
et  with  some  success  in  the  west ;  but  the  two  plots  to  remove  tim 
e  duke  of  Alenqon,  the  youngest  son  of  Catherine,  and  the  SSS|,|^ 
lung  king  of  Navarre  from  the  influence  of  the  court  failed.  w»r 
he  Huguenots  and  the  Politiques  both  desired  to  see  Alengon 
cognized  as  the  heir-presumptive  to  the  throne  in  place  of  his 
der  brother,  the  duke  of  Anjou,  who  had  recently  been  elected 
ng  of  Poland  and  who  was  now  in  that  distant  and  distracted 
>untry.  The  death  of  Charles  IX,  May  30,  1574,  and  the 
ksence  of  Anjou,  now  become  Henry  III  (1574-S9),  in  Poland, 
otributed  to  bring  about  a  temporary  cessation  of  the  struggle, 
cting  under  the  influence  of  his  mother,  who,  now  that  her 
vorite  son  had  succeeded  to  the  throne,  hoped  that,  after  all 
^position  had  been  crushed,  her  influence  would  be  supreme, 
eclined  to  adopt  the  conciliatory  policy  towards  the 
ts  and  Politiques  that  had  been  recommended  to  him. 
his  decision  of  the  king  fjurned  \he.  wr^rkmg  agreement  of  the 
oderate  Catholics  and  the  Pfntp^tantg  into  a  HefinifP  i^\]\unrtf 
lie  program  of  the  combined  parties  consisted  of  full  religious 
lerance,  the  cessation  of  the  sale  of  oflices,  a  reduction  of  taxes, 
td  the  summoning  of  the  States-General.  The  war,  which  in 
e  meantime  had  been  dragging  out  its  weary  length,  had  now 
a  large  extent  lost  its  religious  character.  It  had  bec( 
ional  fight  between  Guise  on  the  one  hand  and  Francis,  Duke 

rother^  between* 


lOIfl 


If  • '  • '  «.njLiL^ 


iTiiniTi^ 


icniption  and  tolerance  and  administrative  reform.  jRurh  was 
c  situation  when  the  king's  younger  brother,  Alenqon,  who  had 
m  become  the  duke  of  Anjou,  and  the  king  of  Navarre  suc- 
eded  in  making  their  escape  from  the  court.    With  the  freedom 


496 


THE  CATHOUC  REFORMATION 


•nthRcll- 
ftonsWar 


Bigkth 
War 


of  these  princes  from  sorvdllaiice  fhe  Hagucnote  aad  BDlitk|Mi 
had  decidedly  the  advantage,  and  so  events  soon  led  to  the  "  Sms 
of  Monyctir^^  May,  1576,  so-called  because  of  Anjon'a  a<5^ 
m  the  matter,  fhe  title  of  Monsieur  being  always  given  to  dis 
ddest  Uving  brother  of  fhe  king.  The  agreement  giz£j|LAB* 
^HugggMtaJfaeJbest  terms  they  h^*^  ♦^  flf  r^TTl:    ThcgrwcR 

rwliere  m  Frsnce  exccot  widun  a 
their  rdigkm  was  not  to  disquaUi^ 


_  W01 

^rt  distance  of  Paris 


>i'A-^*A\' 


them  from  holding  office.    As  for  political  ref onn,  it  was  de- 
cided to  convohs  &e  States-GeneraL 

The  terms  of  the  new  peace  aroused  tiie  indlgnatioa  of  the 
Catholics  and  accelerated  the  formation  of  provincial 

among  Acm  which  eventually 

that  prolonged  the  warfare  for  yet  another  twnty  years. 

the  inftptratinn  ^f  ttf^  Ql^^TM-  tilt  ^^^^^^^*  to  the  States-Geoenl 

yeyiltftd  in  the  ^electioq  of  deputies 

anc^i^  When»  therefore. 


Maiied  that  onlv  on^ 


Before  this,  the  sixth  war  (1577)  had  bMUn  oiit    The  Hugue- 
nots lost  La  Charit6  and  Brouage,  the  latter  being  one  of  theb 
important  places,  and  mdv  Jht  htdc  of  unity  "long  their  oppO' 
nents  and  the  prevailing  desire  tor  peace  qaoied  ihcm  to  secjne^ 
'  rac,  Septemoer,  1577,  scardsly  less  fatvorable  tfasa 


s  ai 


those  tbey  had  obtained  a  year  ago. 

It  is  little  wonder  that  the  compact  failed  to  give  satisfaction 
to  the  Catholic  zealots  and  to  those  who  were  utilizing  the 
League  to  promote  their  own  personal  ends.  Outbreaks  occurred 
in  different  parts  of  the  country.  But  the  real  ^use  of  ti» 
seventh  war  (1580)  was  the  dispute  between 
^  Navarre  r^^rding  the  dower  ot  thglgtter  s  wire.  1  ne  war 
consisted  only  oi  spasmodic  skirmishes  and  attacics  upon  places 
of  minor  importance  and  it  W215  brought  to  an  end  in  November 
by  the  peace  signed  at  Fleix.  Then  followed  five  years  of  peace 
that  was,  however,  by  no  means  profound.  They  were  years 
filled  with  discontent,  intrigue,  duds,  assassinations,  and  general 
demoralization.  The  nobility  gave  free  rein  to  their  ambitions 
and  their  vices;  the  lower  classes  complained  bitterly  of  tiieir 
increasing  burdens. 

In  1584  Anjou,  the  only  remaining  brother  of  Henry  III,  died. 
The  king  was  childless  and  so  Henry  of  Navarre  became  the 
Jig!^-prgMirrp^"^^j  ''nr^  that  prince,  now  that  William  of  Orange 
was  dead,  was  the  most  important  of  the  military  leaders  oL 
Protestantism  ^m  contmental  Europe.  Opposed  to  Navarre  was 
Hnrvrf  Guise  who  secured  t^o  y^port  ftf  t^^  ^  ^Of^t  now  in 


THE  RELIGIOUS  WARS  IN  FRANCE 


497 


the  final  stages  of  its  organization,  and  ^fidULcracluded  at  Join- 
villg.  Tanuarv.  i«;8g.  an  alliance  with  Spain  agSnsI 

Itestant  heir.  Six  months  later  the  king  came 
to  terms  with  the  League  at  Nemours  by  which  he  agreed  to  all 
its  demands  and  abandoned  the  principle  of  toleration.  In  con- 
formity with  the  agreement  an  edict  was  issued  by  which  the 

Navarre  made  a  forcible  protest. 
It  without  avail,  and  in  September  the  F^p*^  pronounced  his^ 
C3cgonimnniratinn>  Before  this  the  '"  '^^y  r^  »^^  ftir^^  WAnr^Yf^/* 
the  eighth  war  (1585-89),  had  begun.  Ostensibly  it  was  a  way 
Kg^^fi  M^ry  TTT  anH  T^ftHfY  ^^  <^uise  against  Henry  of  Na- 
jarre.  But  the  League  was  by  no  means  a  whole-hearted  allv^ 
"f  ^]]<*  my^  P?^  It  had  beccxne  mipregnated  with  repub- 
hcanism,  and  many  of  its  leaders,  especially  the  Guises,  had 
their  own  interests  to  conserve.  The  Huguenots  were  aided  by 
the  PoUtiques  and  by  the  Duke  of  Montmorency,  who  was  jeal- 
ous of  the  Guises.  At  first  the  tide  of  war  went  against  the 
Protestants  and  their  allies,  but  the  discords  in  the  Catholic 
ranks,  the  fretting  of  the  king  under  the  control  of  the  League, 
and  the  military  skill  of  Navarre,  gradually  wrought  a  change. 
After  a  number  of  successes  in  guerilla  warfare  the  Protestant 
leader  won  his  first  pitched  battle  at  Coutras,  1587,  where  he 
defeated  a  force  twice  as  large  as  his  own.  Shortly  after,  how- 
ever. Guise  defeated  a  German  force  that  was  marching  to  the 
aid  of  Navarre.  Flushed  with  this  success  the  leaders  of  the 
J^prii^  demanded  of  the  king,  who  all  alongha^^doubUd-tbe 
wisdom  of  the  course  h€  had  been  persuaded  iopureue,  that  he 
•ghould  dismiss  fium  liis  presence  all  llie  persons  ot  wnom  tHey 

ce.  and  that  he  should  confiscate  the  property  of  the  Hupucr 
The  king  hesitated  to  comply  with  these  radical  demands ; 


1585-M 


and  -Guise,  in  defiance  of  the  royal  injunction,  entered  Pariy. 
Then  the  king  ordered  four  thousand  bwiss  troops  who  were 
stationed  in  the  suburbs  to  enter  the  city.  TVip  PariRianf;^  yTin 
were  the  mngf  arH#>nt  g^^ppy Iters  of  the  League,  rushed  tr>  ^png^ 
barricaded  the  streets,  attacked  the  bwiss  and  compelled  them 
to  capitulate.  Powerless  to  control  the  situation  flip  Wi^g-ar- 
oeded  to  all  the  demands  of  the  Lea^e.  which  hadl>ecome  an 
nnperiutn  in  imperio,  and  surrendered  the  conduct  of  the  war  to 
its  leader,  the  duke  of  Guise.  Some  months  later  the  king 
deemed  himself  to  be  in  a  position  to  carry  out  a  project  he  had 
formed  of  getting  rid  of  Guise.    On  December  23,  1588,  the 

lay  f  Tmitpd — The  king's  plan 


«B 


THE  CATHOUC  REFORMATION 


War 


to  make  himadf  supreme  failed  to  effect  itB  poitioae*  The 
iTflm^T  *'^^  y*  jaiifti4pH»riarpH  the  cfown  to  be  decdvc^  stieqgdh 

ened  its  hold  upon  Paris,  and  secured  oontrol  of  most  of  4e 

important  towns  in  central  and  southern  Fiance.  Catherine -def 
JH^M  Hi^  in  the  midst  of  this  tumult,  January  5,  1589^  won 

out  in  her  endeavor  to  secure  peace  for  the  country  of  facr 

adoption,   ^ht?  haj  f aJlH  ^^^^««^  ^^  ^««^  rri  ttir  "^^^^g-* 

which  she  had  to  deal  with  were  beyond  her  exp^"<*"<**^  tp^  ^^ 
divinaticxi>  The  situation  camoelled  the  Idny  fn  Ajgn  %^^rnfm 
with  Mavarre„  The  Huyienots  were  not  to  be  persecuted;  dxy, 
in  their  turn,  w^ry  not  ti%  tnoiegt;  tfag  (.amflUls;  aml'^wanc 
^  was  to  a^^  ^^B  ^'"ff  agatncf  j[|m  ^tfif#i  g\^  Miy^ncp  the  sole  wa^ 
viving  brother  of  the  duke  of  Guise.  lUe  royu  forces  fliiis 
augmented  took  many  towns  and  laid  siege  to  F^tria.  But  be- 
fore the  assault  was  delivered  upon  the  capital  a  fanatic  friar, 

who,  two  days  later,  August  a^ 
1589,  after  designating  Navarre  as  his  heir,  died  of  the  wound. 
It  was  not  an  encouraging  prospect  that  HctT  ^Y,  ('5^ 
1610)  now  faced.  Had  he  followed  the  advke  given  him  ta 
beccmie  a  Catholic  it  was  probable  that  only  the  moderate  Catho- 
lics would  have  flocked  to  his  support,  and  he  would  certain^ 
have  alienated  himself  from  the  Huguenots.  So^  for  the  present^ 
being  guided  very  largely  by  policy,  he  decided  not  to  abjure  his 
faith.    Instead  he  issued  a  declaration  rflr^^*^^""*^  Cathd 

as  the  religion  of  tliP  rpalm^  pryimigitny  »ft 

nets  no  further  privileges  than  thev  alreadv  po^'^^^C^  and  stat- 
m^  his  willinpiess  to  be  instructed  iq  fhf  Cn^^nVtr  rjP^A     The 

'"  ^^Mf(j  fQ  rallv  the  kingdom  to  his  banner;  and  so, 
^ling  himself  too  weak  tfl  t&k^  stnA  hold  the  capital,  jic  mqy^ 

from   whence  the  city  drew  its  supplies. 


Thither  Mayenne.  at  the  head  of  a  far  larger  force,  followed 
nim  and  tJius  ttie  ninth  war  (it|8o-oO  began.  In  the  series~of 
engagements  known  as  the  battle  ot  Arque^i^go^  the  advantage 
lay  with  the  new  king;  and  in  the  following  year,  in  the  famous 
battle  of  Ivrv.  although  greatly  outnumbered,  he  inflicted  a  se- 
vere defeat  upon  Mayenne.  Then  he  taiH  cifpg  to  Paris.  Be- 
coming convinced  that  his  acceptance  of  the  Catholic  religion 
was  the  surest  means  of  restoring  peace  to  his  distracted  country 
he  abandoned  the  faith  of  his  childhood  and  was  received  into 
^e  Catholic  fold  at  St.  Denis,  one  of  the  suburbs  of  Pans. 
Henry  IV  was  not  a  man  of  impressive  appearance.  There  was 
about  him  a  certain  insignificance  that  hid  the  great  leader  from 
casual  eyes.  He  was  a  sensual  man,  this  tireless,  courageous 
and  skilful  soldier,  whose  good-nature,  unmistakable  devotion 


THE  RELIGIOUS  WARS  IN  FRANCE  499 

to  his  country,  and  biting  wit,  won  friends  for  him  everywhere.     5m5' 

liirlring  in  deep-seated  religious  conviction,  and  having  a  con-      

siderable  cynical  element  in  his  make-up,  it  may  nevertheless  be  **••"•• 
true  that  his  saying  ''  Paris  was  well  worth  a  mass  "  had  some- 
thing of  bitter  regret  in  it  as  well  as  the  light-hearted  indiffer- 
ence to  which  it  is  usually  attributed.  In  later  years  he  seems 
to  have  grown  attached  to  his  new  religion.  All  but  the  most 
bigoted  members  of  the  League  and  those  nobles  who,  like 
Mayenne,  were  bent  upon  advancing  their  own  personal  inter- 
ests, came  over  to  him.  Rouen,  the  last  important  city  in  the 
north,  surrendered;  and  four  days  later,  March  21,  1594,  he 
entered  Paris.  The  capital  had  not  been  given  to  him,  he  said, 
but  had  been  bought  ''  and  at  a  goodly  price.'' 

It  required  more  than  the  king's  "conversion''  to  win  the 
kingdom.  Opposition,  though  greatly  lessened  by  the  abjura- 
tion of  his  old  faith,  was  by  no  means  extinct.    Mayenne.  and 

the  dtike  of  Meri^tir,  amnngr  nt^frc^  cfi'11  \xf\A  ^^^^       A«  QfTi^mpfr 

on  the  life  of  Henry  by  a  pupil  of  the  Jesuits  (though  these  seem  n« 
not  to  have  been  responsible  for  his  deed)  brought  to  a  crisis  JSi^JJ 
the  hostility  that  had  long  been  growing  against  that  Order  and  Bdieiof 
its  members  were  expelled  by  the  parlements  of  Paris,  Rouen,  **'*'^ 
and  Dijon  from  their  respective  jurisdictions.  With  courage  or 
with  compromise,  and  with  unfailing  affability,  Henry  gradually 
wqp  his  way.  Then,  wVia|^  }i#>  \y^**^^  Vijipcplf  cecurelv  estab- 
lished he  declared  war  upon  Spain.  Ever  smce  ne  nad  mnented 
the  crown  he  had  been  in  reality  at  war  with  that  country,  for 
Spain  had  sent  men  and  money  to  his  opponents.  Before  the 
Spanish  war  (1595-98)  had  long  been  under  way  Burgundy 
was  taken  by  the  king.  In  the  same  year  the  Pope  absolved 
Henry  from  every  taint  of  heresy,  and  soon  after  Mayenne 
came  over  to  the  royal  side  and  proved  an  able  and  loyal  fol- 
lower of  his  new  master.  Then  the  Spanish  were  beaten  in 
northeastern  France,  and  on  May  2,  1598,  pfflrf  ^^^  cig^^^/i 
^^^Wfiffl  ^^  ^^^  r^nnfripg  of  VArvinc  A  short  time  previous 
to  the  conclusion  of  peace  Henry  signed  the  famou^Jg^li£La>f 
Nantes.  April  iq,  fl^at  rndified  and  increased  the  rights  previously 
granted  to  the  Calvinists.^  Freedom  to  worship  everywhere  in 
private  according  to  the  rites  of  one's  creed  was  granted,  and 
freedom  to  worship  in  public  in  about  two  huq^rpH  tnwt^§  anH  in 
{Wo  places  in  every  bailliage  and  every  sinichaussie  in  the  king- 
dom and  in  many  castles  of  the  Huguenot  nobles,  and  no  Cal- 
vinist  was  to  be  disturbed  in  any  way  because  of  his  religion. 

J'ull  civ^^  ritl^^*'  ''"d  thit  prQtectipn  of  the  law  was  extended  io 

thft  Hugu^nnLs.    They  were  once  more  declared  eligible  for  all 


500 


THE  CATHOLIC  REFORMATION 


IMS 


public  offices ;  and  they  were  permitted  to  hold  their  ecdesiastkal 
agSflSblies.  Twp  hundred  towns  were  to  remain  m  f  rn"  "TitH 
until  1607,  their  possession  afterwards  being  extended  to  1612, 
among  them  the  redoutable  strongholds  of  La  Rochelle,  Mon- 
tauban,  and  Montpellier ;  and  the  State  was  to  furnish  funds  for 
the  maintenance  of  the  garrisons  and  fortifications.  Like  most 
such  agreements  the  Edict  yf  >Japt<*"  ^'"«  «  ^"mpmmif  It 
was  bv  nq  r^^Tls  per^^-  It  had  serious  shortcomings  and  con- 
tamed  the  seeds  of  discord.  It  f>'gt,piHpH  tolerance  to  no  other 
dissenting  sect  tiiy  ^h1y**^'°'TT  Its  provisions  for  local  poli^I 
liberty  increased  the  decentralizing  tendencies  of  the  time.  But 
it  was  perhaps  as  good  at^  sifrrefm^i  ^c  m,u\^  j^,  pna^<>  Uflf^ 
thfi  QirrtitnRtpnrp«|.  It  brought  peace  to  the  unhappy  land.  At 
last  the  wild  struggles  of  the  protracted  religious  wars  were  over 
and  there  began  that  r^eneration  of  France  that  made  her  the 
heiress  of  the  attainments  and  civilization  of  Italy  and  the  intd- 
lectual  and  artistic  leader  of  Europe. 


CHAPTER  XXVII 

PAPACY  AND  EMPIRE 

1.  The  Two  Medieval  World-Powers  in  the  Sixteenth  Century. 

2.  Ferdinand  of  Hapsburg. 

3.  The  Reforming  Fapacy. 

4.  Maximilian  II. 

5.  Militant  Catholicism  in  Germany. 

rHE  Papacy  and  the  Holy  Roman  Empire  had  been  the  two     ^^^ 
CTeat  woflH-pAwprs  al^  through  the  Middle  Ages.    In  tRe      

ixteenth  century  they  were  eclipsed  by  the  new  nations.  The  i**^iw« 
had  steadily  t\eg\\ned  in  nower  from  the  dav  on  which  l^^Two^ 
Jiy  wag  Qfrnrlf  in  \he  face  by  one  of  the  emissaries  MeSrr? 
i  the  king  of  France.  Though  it  ahatp^  nO"%i(^^  its  great  worw- 
l^gis.  to  authority  oyer  the  State  it  found  it  politic  to  let  them 
ppain  in  abeyance.  The  Empire,  too,  had  lost  much  of  its 
ower  and  prestige.  The  days  of  German  expansion  were  long 
last  Steadily  the  imperial  boundaries  had  retreated.  The  loss 
f  the  Burgundian  and  Italian  domains  was  not  significant  of 
weakness,  for  they  had  always  been  alien  possessions,  foreign  to 
he  true  purpose  of  the  Empire.  But  the  loss  q{  thf;  ^wjqq  ra^^- 
DDS  and  then  that  of  the  Dutch  provinc^  were  far  more  §eriou&. 
ntemally,  too,  affairs  were  not  such  as  To  make  for  the  renewal 
►f  Germanic  power.  Potentially  all  the  elements  of  power  were 
here.  Germany  was  the  land  of  inventors  and  engineers.  She 
lad  military  strength  and  wealth  of  resources;  and  her  capi- 
alists  were  the  richest  and  ablest  of  the  century.  But  the  po- 
itical  forces  of  the  time  were  increasingly  centrifugal.  The 
erritorial  lords  had  passed  too  far  beyond  the  position  of  the 
lobility  in  France  and  England  and  Spain  to  make  it  easy  or, 
tideed,  possible  to  reduce  them  to  the  position  of  mere  barons 
vr  grandees.  As  a  result  the  imperial  fliet  was  not  a  real  parlia- 
nent  but  instead  an  assembly  of  princes  who  wer^  intent  upon 
urthering  the  interests  pf  their  own  houses,  states,  and  class, 
Jid  of  municipal  deputies  who  were  bent  upon  advancing  the 
ydfare  of  their  respective  cities  and  ot  ttiat  of  the  bourgeoisie 
D  general. 
The  gifted  and  gracious  Maximilian  I  (1493-1519),  over  whose 

SOI 


502 


THE  CATHOLIC  REFORMATION 


1680-86 


Tilt 

pmrorFer- 

dinuidl 


Pop*  6ia^ 
tniV 


life  so  many  German  historians  have  loved  to  linger,  had  laigc 
dreams  of  reform,  but  his  lack  of  perseverance  and  foresight,  and 
the  expenditure  of  his  resources  utx;)n  territorial  expansion  rather 
than  upon  internal  reform  permitted  the  particularistic  forces 
to  pursue  their  aims  successfully.  Charles  V  ( 1520-56) ,  too,  had 
had  his  schemes  for  the  unification  of  Germany,  but  they  were 
postponed  by  the  g^eat  ecclesiastical  revolution  and  hampered  by 
the  encroachment  of  the  Turks^and  ttlft  thachmations  of  France 
and  crippled  fey  the  papal  distrust  of  his  intentions.  For  a  mo- 
ment, indeed,  it  seemed  as  though  they  would  succeed.  In  1547, 
after  the  battle  of  Miihlberg,  all  Germany,  with  a  few  minor  ex- 
ceptions, seemed  to  lie  at  the  Emperor's  feet.  But  his  widely- 
scattered  possessions  and  the  multitudinous  interests  and  affairs 
in  which  he  was  involved  dissipated  his  energy  and  left  the  troe 
interests  of  the  Empire  in  an  increasingly  precarious  conditioQ. 
Such  was  the  Empire  to  which,  upon  the  abdication  of  Charles, 
his  younger  brother,  Ferdinand  I  (1556-64)  succeeded.  The 
new  Emperor's  brief  reign  was  occupied  chiefly  with  an  attempt 

to  settle  th<^  rpligriAiiQ  HiffprPTirPQ  nf  t^jf  Ktnpire  and  in  an  en- 
deavor  to  make  a  more  y^'g^*-^"?  offarif  itp(7n  the  Turks.  In 
both  efforts  he  was  unsuccessful.  He  was  politic  in  tninB,  and 
just  and  tolerant  in  disposition.  It  was  his  desire  that  substan- 
tial concessions  should  be  made  to  the  Protestants  by  the  Council 
of  Trent.  That  desire  was  not  fulfilled  by  the  conciliar  fathers; 
and  Ferdinand's  refusal  to  abrogate  the  ecclesiastical  reservation 
of  the  Peace  of  Augsburg  served  still  further  to  render  futile 
his  efforts  to  bring  about  a  reconciliation.  There  had  been  no 
permanent  settlement  between  the  two  religions,  but  only  a  truce. 
The  history  of  the  Empire  in  the  sixty-three  years  that  elapsed 
between  the  Peace  of  Augsburg  and  the  beginning  of  the  Thirty 
Years'  War  may  be  summed  up  as  a  series  of  ^ffr^rfc  ^p  fh»_^ 


part  of   Catholics  and  Protestants  to  achieve  ^grr] 
domtnaffCe^  " 

"^hefapacy,  it  will  be  remembered,  had  been  obliged  to  rele- 
gate its  policy  of  political  expansion  to  the  background,  if  not 
to  abandon  it  altogether,  and  to  occupy  itself  with  the  tasks  of 
reforming  the  Church  and  combating  heresy.  We  have  already 
noticed  the  reforming  work  of  the  first  popes  of  the  Catholic 
Reformation.  With  the  pontificate  of  Sixtus  V  (1585-90)  we 
come  to  the  most  remarkable  of  all  the  pontiffs  since  the  medi- 
eval age.  Like  so  many  other  great  popes  he  rose  from  extreme 
poverty  to  the  papal  throne,  by  the  strength  of  his  intellect  and 
the  force  of  his  character.  Very  early  he  became  a  Franciscan 
friar  and  won  celebrity  first  as  a  preacher  and  then  as  a  uni- 


PAPACY  AND  EMPIRE  503 


Tersity  lecturer.    He  served  for  a  time  as  infliv'^^^^^-g^^**?!!  at     S^ 

YfillFfi  took  part  in  the  debates  of  the  CouiidLjiUIjcsnt^  and      

was  promoted  to  the  cardinalate.  When  Tie  assumed  the  duties  ^•••■•^ 
of  his  highest  office  he  found  the  affairs  of  the  Papal  States  in 
a  most  deplorable  condition.  Learned  in  the  canon  law  and  in 
patriotic  lore  he  was  also  a  most  able  administrator.  With  re- 
lentless rigor,  in  little  more  than  two  years,  he  n'H  \\\t^  Fap^^ 
States  almost  completely  of  the  hordes  of  brigands  with  which 
it  had  been  intested.  and  he  greatly  curtailed  the  lingering  feudal 
pfiwers  ^f  the  nobility.  Then,  with  the  same  directness  of  pro- 
cedure,  he  turned  his  attention  to  the  work  of  putting  the  finances 
in  order.  The  defective  system  that  he  found  was  not  replaced 
with  another,  but  it  was  improved  and  developed;  and,  as  a 
result,  in  spite  of  his  vast  expenditures,  the  new  pope  became 
one  of  the  richest  rulers  in  Europe.  Many  public  work^  wyre 
undertaken^  roads  were  built,  marshes  drained,  farms  laid  out, 
mills  erected,  old  industries  revived  and  new  ones  introduced, 
palaces  and  churches  rebuilt  and  enlarged,  the  vast  dome  of  St. 
Peter's  almost  completed  and  a  great  obelisk,  that  once  had 
stood  in  the  circus  of  Nero  and  had  for  long  remained  half 
buried,  was  erected  in  front  of  the  cathedral  there  to  testify  to 
the  victories  of  the  Cross  that  was  placed  upon  its  summit.  But 
in  the  mind  of  Sixtus  there  loomed  two  things  as  being  greater 
deeds  to  do  than  these  —  the  restoration ^to  the  ancient  fold  of 
tffit  htrrtirrii^n^  the  driving  b;^yj^  of  the.  T»r^fff  beyond  the  easterlT 
frontier  of  the  Holy  Land.  Friar  as  he  was,  with  a  strain  of  the 
mystic  in  him,  he  dreamef[  of  the  conversion  and  cooperation 
of  Elizabeth.  It  was  an  illusion  in  which  he  was  encourageJ^ 
by  the  Jesuits.  His  dream,  however,  did  not  dissuade  him  from 
promoting  an  attack  upon  England.  In  every  possible  way  he 
fyrthpr^  ^hft  fp-eat  Spanish  expeHition  against  that  country,  and 
he  attributed  the  destruction  of  the  Armada  very  largely  to 
Philip's  delay  that  had  permitted  the  English  to  perfect  their 
preparations  for  defense.  In  order  to  carry  out  the  canons  and 
decrees  of  the  Council  of  Trent  it  was  necessary  that  the  machin- 
ery of  the  papal  administration  should  be  improved.  This  was 
done  by  limiting  the  number  of  cardinals  to  seventy  and  dividing 
them  into  fifteen  congrj^tlons  each  of  which  had  its  own  spe- 
work,  and  by  talcing  into  the  employ  of  the  Papacy  the 


ablest  assistants  that  could  be  procured.  Sixtus  also  directed 
ap  emendation  of  the  Vulgate.  And  he  was  not  slow  to  perceive, 
the  danger  that  might  anse^from  the  rapidlv  increasing  power, 
of  the  Jesuits.  Put  his  death  prevented  the  carrying  out  of  the 
radical  changes  m  their  constitutions  that  he  contemplated.    In 


9H 


THE  CATHOLIC  REPORifATION 


rt^h 


Tht  Em- 
peror 


taan 


the  intricate  rdatioiiB  that  the  drcmngtances  of  the  time 
pdled  him  to  enter  into  with  the  various  political  powers  of 
Europe  he  was  always  animafaf^  \^  jijn  ^'^^wtip^y  M**  ^^  u^Ann^ 
the  Protestants  to  mom  to  the  fold  they  had  forsafcien,  VS 
oAi  WU  k  brief  <me  but  it  Im  traces  of  its  ainiB  aid 


methods  tliat  have  not  yet  disq^peared 

The  successor  of  Sixtus, 
after  his  election  and  before  the  ceremonies  of  Us  imtaWatinB 
naa  been  completed  by  the  act  of  coronation.    Brief,  too^  wai 
the  reign  of  the  next  pontiff,  Qrwnfy  XIV  (igQO"^i)y  wiio  iBed_ 
ten  months  and  ten  dava  afteThift  rfeg^jjui-     Hg  wm  V  mmn  5^ 

lamdess  character  who  fasted  twice  each  wede»  said  maaacMiy 
day»  and  devoted  a  considerable  part  of  his  time  to  pnjer  and 
to  iht  reading  of  religious  books.  But,  wfadly  subacrvknt  to 
the  interests  of  Spajp.  he  was  utteriy  mcompetc»»  «*  •«  IHlr"*"^ 
fetor  and  he  left  the  Papal  States ''once  more  aJictefl  wMh 
brigandage  and  suffering  from  famine.  Still  another  diort  poo* 
tificate  was  that  of  Iimocm^JJ^iSQi)  between  whose  de^km 
and  distil  only  two  myntlffl  ^^^HfH  It  was  die  policj  of  Ocbh_ 
""_  (1592-1605)  to  bring  about  a  fd^prockemmU  betweea~ 

^imce  and  the  Papacy.  He  granted  absolution  to  Heniy  IVf 
thus  clearing  the  way  for  that  monarch's  Iqptimate  iohefitanoe 
of  the  throne;  and  he  had  mudi  to  do  with  Ae  Peace  of  Verrins 
(1598)  that  made  peace  between  France  and  Spain*  Ae  tivo 
powers  upon  which  the  welfare  of  Catholicism  so  laigdy  de- 
pended. Gradually  the  Papacy  was  freed  from  ^^  ^^^jtifi^^^  o(_^ 
^jMua^and  its  policy  made  to  rest  upon  a  broader  basis.  It  was 
then  possible  for  the  work  of  internal  reform  to  proceed  with 
less  hindrance. 

Ferdinand  was  succeeded  in  the  imperial  office  by  his  ddest 
son  Maximilian  II  (1564-76)  much  of  whose  eariy  life  had 
been  spent  in  Spam.  Possessed  of  an  o>pen  mind  and  a  friendly 
disposition,  and,  because  of  his  sympa&etic  iialUK  U(l  vuflM 
exp6i4edC^,  able  to  appreciate  the  desirable  elements  in  each  of 
the  clashing  forces  of  his  conglomerate  Empire,  he  became  a 
popular  ruler.  In  his  youth  he  had  doubtless  learned  something 
of  Lutheranism,  and  political  reasons  led  him  to  maintain  friendly 
relations  with  several  of  the  Protestant  princes.  Later  on  his 
association  with  Lutherans,  and  with  men  who  had  pronounced 
leanings  towards  Lutheranism,  caused  no  little  uneasiness  to  his 
father.  But,  although  his  rdigious  views  were  colored  with 
Lutheranism,  he  remained,  nominally  at  least,  aiLadhereat  of  the 
ancestral  Church,  and  his  Brief  reign,  overshadowed  hy  the  tem^ 
ot  the   lurks  and  troubled  with  the  religious  and  territorial 


PAPACY  AND  EMPIRE  505 

rivalries  of  the  timey  was  one  in  which  militant  Githolicism  met     Sm 

with  considerable  success  in  Germany.  

Despite  Maximilian's  intelligence  and  his  desire  to  treat  every  ^•^••^•i* 
religioas  party  with  tolerance  it  was  no  peaceful  situation  that 
he  kft  to  his  son  Rw^nlf  J^T  (1576-1612)  who  fell  heir  to  aJl 
the  sore  oerpleTritifi  of  thr  di5t"*<^^  Knipir<>-  The  religious  ^ 
of  ic«jn  wy  nrnvififlr  more  and  more  to  be  no  peace  at  aU 
^d  precision  and  so  it  was  misinterpreted  it  contlictea 
with  personal  interests  and  so  it  was  ignored.  Protestant  princes 
continued  their  attacks  upon  OtthoUc  property;  and  Catholic 
authorities  placed  before  their  Protestant  subjects  the  alterna- 
tives of  acceptance  of  the  old  faith  or  exile.  There  was  no  power 
sufficient  to  interpret  the  settlement  and  to  enforce  it  Germany 
was  already  drifting  into  the  Thirty  Years'  War.  When  eleven 
years  of  age  Rudolf,  because  of  the  ambition  of  his  father  that 
he  should  inherit  the  Spanish  throne,  had  been  sent  to  Spain  to 
be  educated  and  there  he  had  lived  for  nine  years.  He  was  not 
without  ability,  but  in  character  he  resembled  his  unde  Philip  II 
snore  than  his  father.  Quiet  and  reserved  he  had  acquired  a 
reading  knowledge  of  several  languages  and  he  was  interested 
in  all  tfie  arts  and  sciences.  Gradually  he  became  a  gr^t  patrgn 
^  artists  ant^  g^hftlr^^S  s^d  he  also  became  a  notable  collector. 
Then  he  began  to  neglect  the  affairs  of  state.  After  1594  he 
did  not  attend  a  meeting  of  the  imperial  diet  and  three  or  four 
years  later  he  exhibited  great  reluctance  to  transact  the  ordinary 
business  of  government.  A  series  of  valets  gained  ascendancy 
over  him  and  so  completely  did  he  withdraw  himself  from  the 
worid  that  when  the  new  century  opened  it  became  exceedingly 
difficult  even  for  the  highest  officials  to  gain  access  to  him. 
Rumors  of  madness  spread  abroad.  All  through  his  reign  the 
border  warfare  with  the  Turks  continued  and  a  great  disaster 
in  which  50,000  imperial  soldiers  were  killed  was  inflicted  in 
1596  upon  the  German  forces.  In  the  religious  disputes  Rudolf 
was  a  partisan  of  the  Catholic  cause,  and  despite  insurrection, 
the  Catholic  predominance  in  Austria  was  restored.  So  impotent 
was  his  rule  that  he  left  the  Empire  in  a  condition  bordering 
upon  chaos. 

le  reign  of  P..^/^if  ij  ^^;^^^^  y^,u\^  ^\y^  militant  tirtivity  rf 

The  success  of  that  activity  was  assisted,  it  will 
be  remembered,  by  a  widely  prP^^^nit  fylinp  ^^  r^"F  It  was 
also  furthered  by  the  rKflgfrininnff  amnng  f[|;^  PrntTintanti  Lu- 
therans and  Calvinists  became  ever  more  distrustful  of  each 
other  and  their  distrust  was  fostered  by  the  Catholics.  Accord- 
ing to  the  terms  of  the  religious  settlement  of  1555  the  only 


So6 


THE  CATHOLIC  REFORMATION 


TlltSpUt 
InProtoi- 


Protestants  who  were  to  profit  by  its  provisions  were  those  who 
subscribed  to  the  Confession  of  Augsburg.  But  the  Calvinbte, 
I57e-i6i2  who  were  excluded  from  the  scope  of  the  settlement,  had  & 
(Creased  m  ntmibers  within  the  Dorders  ot  tbe  kmpife.  They 
were  to  be  found  principally  in  the  territory  that  intervenes  be- 
tween Switzerland  and  the  Low  Countries.  One  of  the  results 
of  the  battle  of  Mtihlberg,  as  we  have  seen,  was  a  new  division  of 
Saxony.  The  electoral  title  and  a  large  part  of  the  electoral 
lands  passed  from  the  Ernestine  to  the  Albertine  branch  of  the 
Saxon  house.  Ernestine  Saxony  was  left  a  comparatively  unim- 
portant province.  The  first  dector  of  Albertine  Saxony  was 
Maurice  I  (1547-53)  of  whom  we  have  seen  something  in  our 
study  of  Protestantism  and  the  Balance  of  Power.  He  was  suc- 
ceeded by  his  brother  AugugtugJLf  1553-86)  who  increased  the 
area  of  electoral  Saxony  and  developed  its  resources.  He  was, 
however,  a  most  intolerant  Lutheran  and  he  employed  rigorous 
measures  to  extinguish  LaivmiSfft  m  hlSTlOSuhions.  At  the  head 
o^  electoral  Brandenburg  at  tkis  time  was  joaclum  11  (1535-71) 
who  had  established  a  state  church  of  his  own  very  like  the 
Church  of  England.  He  granted  Lutheranism  free  entrance 
into  his  dominions;  and  he  secularized  Catholic  bishoprics  as  a 
means  of  adding  to  his  wealth  and  personal  territory.  His  suc- 
cessor John  George  (1571-98)  was  a  thorough-going  Lutheran 
who  heartily  disliked  Calvinism.  On  the  other  hand  Frederick 
III  (1559-76),  elector  Palatine,  one  of  the  most  aggressive  of 
the  Protestant  princes,  was  an  ardent  Calvinist;  and,  though  his 
son  and  successor  Louis  VI  (1576-83)  was  a  Lutheran,  his 
brother  John  Casimir,  who  from  1583  to  1592  acted  as  regent 
during  the  minority  of  his  grandson  Frederick  IV  (1583-1610), 
was  an  equally  active  supporter  of  Calvinism.  Under  Freder- 
ick III  the  so-called  Heidelberg  Catechism  was  put  forth^s  thg_ 
'^  prescribed  form  oi  oeiiet  and  worsnip  tor  tne  raiatinate^.  In 
iTlhe  docLiine  ol  lire  fiuciiarist  was  formulated  m  accordance 
with  the  ideas  of  Calvin.  This  aroused  the  antagonism  of  Lu- 
therans and  Catholics  alike.  The  Lutneran  citizens  of  the  elec- 
torate and  some  of  the  neighboring  Lutheran  princes  protested 
vigorously  but  in  vain.  The  breach  between  Lutheranism  and 
Calvinism  was  made  permanent  Uiid  Ihc  LutliLidll  fuiers  became 
eiermined  UiAll  (iVW  llUL  to  permit  the  heads  of  Calvinist 


[ore 

States  to  be  included  in  the  scope  of  the  Peace  of  Augsburg. 
Thus  was  the  split  in  Protestantism  made  wider  and  the  task 
of  the  Emperor  Rudolf  in  furthering  the  cause  of  Catholicism 
made  easier. 

liut  Lutheranism  itself,  as  we  have  seen  in  our  study  of  the 


PAPACY  AND  EMPIRE 


507 


sects  to  which  the  Pmtestant  Revolution  gave  rise,  was  by  no 
means  united.    Differences  of  opinion   regarding  dogma  that 

had  their  oriyjq  m  **}''  iii-riPtinPfi  />hQrQ/^f^r  nl  th^  l.iithe,ran 
CTced,  in  the  idiosyncrasies  of  individual  religious  teacher^,  and 
Jn  tne  personal  preterences  of  rulers,  be^n  to  crvstallize  into 
definite  systems  ot  beliet  between  which  enmity  arose.  The 
principal  arena  of  the  internal  disputes  of  the  Lutherans  was 
the  two  Saxonies;  and  the  chief  disputants  may  be  classed  as 
Flacianistf^  and  PhiHnnis^y,  The  former  professed  to  stand  by 
the  teachings  of  Luther,  while  the  latter  claimed  to  represent 
the  more  conciliatory  views  of  Melanchthon.  Each  party,  how* 
ever,  much  as  the  fact  was  disclaimed,  had  made  changes  in  the 
views  of  its  authority.  The  new  University  of  Jena  (1558) 
became  the  citadel  of  the  Flacianists,  while  those  of  Wittenberg 
and  Leipzig  were  the  strongholds  of  the  Philippists.  The  con- 
troversy between  the  two  parties,  which  was  exceedingly  bitter, 
was  accentuated  by  the  political  animosity  that  existed  between 
the  two  Saxonies.  One  of  the  questions  about  which  contror. 
versy  raged  was  that  of  free  w^|l.  Another  was  that  of  the 
\Td's  Supper,    'the  ^^^f^"^'^^a  ^^^^^^  ^^^  Lutheran  doctrine 

^j]a»   in   fhp   r^TPuA   and    wit^p   thp  hnAy   anH   hlonH   nf   Thrigt  am 

present  as  heat  is  present  in  red-hot  iron.  Some  of  the  Philip* 
pists  leaned  toward  the  CaJY^nist  view  pat  the  bread  rind  ""«*^ 
are  never  more  than  mere  symbols  9f  tl^e  bodv  and  blood,  while 
otners  luiiy  accepted  that  view.  These  latter  from  motives  of 
expediency  avoided  making  any  open  avowal  of  their  Calvinism. 
They  were  known  a^  rryptrwralyin^g^^g  Later  on,  however, 
they  became  bolder  and  then  they  were  cruelly  persecuted.  So 
rancorous  were  the  disputes  between  the  various  Lutheran  di« 
visions  that  several  of  the  princes,  chief  of  whom  was  the  elector 
Augustus  of  Albertine  Saxony,  began  to  take  measures  looking 
towards  pacification  and  unity.  In  1576  the  Torgau  Book,  so 
called  irom  the  place  01  its  composition,  was  issued.  It  is  a 
body  of  doctrine  to  which  it  was  hoped  all  Lutherans  would 
subscribe.  It  was  discussed  in  many  ecclesiastical  conventions, 
called  for  the  purpose  of  considering  it,  but  the  result  was  far 
short  of  universal  acceptance.  The  book  was  then  revised  in 
'Tne  toiiowing  year  by  some  theologians  and  in  1680  it  was  pub- 
licly announced.  It  became  ifnnwn  ag  the  Concord  Rool^^  The 
men  who  performed  the  task  of  recension  deemed  their  work 
to  be  final.  They  declared  it  to  be  the  true  Lutheran  doctrine. 
But  while  the  Formula  of  Concord  gettleH  Rome  of  the  old  con- 
troversies it  gave  rise  to  others  that  were  none  the  less  seriouT 
tcrimoniousT    it  seems,  indeed,  to  have  done  more  harm 


zxvn 


1A76-16I2 

TlMl^ltt 
InLntliAr* 


508 


3lTt-l«2S 


Vtfll 


THE  CATHOUC  REFORMATION 


m^ 


I .  ■«  *  .<  I 


■d 


ierfitoiy*    la  tiiis  ittcmt 
LKjIss.  WiUiam  IV  (isol* 


than  good    Abuse  descended  ahnost  to  nnplimihfd 

violent  conflicts  were  of  frequent  oocnntnce. 

^While  Protestantism  in  the  Empire  was  thus  distracted  with 

internal  HiffffCTrions  Cal 

ahig  for  stT\  gffnrt  to  rqpdn  its 

the  U 

50)  obtained  a  consideirabiF  grant  of  power  from  tiie  Pope 
over  the  bishoprics  and  monastic  orders  in  tfie  dndqr  and  en- 
acted repressive  measures  against  tfie  Protestants.  In  1541  te 
invited  the  Jrmit"  ***^'^  hia  i|?minian.  And  die  ^TniY**'*'*^  ^ 
Tnynlftfar^t  became  tbgiy  hat^tiftftem  not  only  for  Bavaria  but 

also  for  ail  Uermany.  

jrinces  in  Germany^  fwvtt  his  sanction  to  tte 
^tmcii  oi  Trent  ana  vigorously  furthered  die 
recently  aroused  militant  activity  of  Cat^lidsm.  His  aon  and 
successor  William  V  (i579-97)>  sumamed  the  Hoo%  had  been 
educated  by  the  Jesuits  and  was  one  of  dieir  most  ardent  sop- 
porters.  Qlief  of  thf  J^"H  p^-^y^y*****'*^  «**«  PftTT  rUlilT" 
(1524-97),  eloquent,  prudent  an^  Matn^l^M  ^f  Ufa  After  ten 
years'  work  in  isavana  he  was  summoned  by  Ferdinand  I  to 
Vienna  where  he  swayed  vast  audiences  at  his  will  and  became 
the  chief  adviser  in  religious  affairs  of  die  Emperor.  So  aCBRt- 
sive  was  the  spirit  of  the  great  Jesuit,  so  tactful  were  hia  meas- 
ures and  so  indefatigable  were  his  labors,  tfiat  he  is  jostlf 
reckoned  as  being  one  of  the  most  important  forces  in  die  r^h 

bilitatimi  of  ratbn1u?fifn  in   r^rmAtiy.     Th^  r#>atnrfttfftn  nf  Ca- 

tholicism  in  Austria,  begun  under  Ferdinand  I,  and  continued 
somewhat  hesitatingly  under  Maximilian  II,  was  pushed  by  Ru- 
dolf II  with  great  energy.  The  Catholic  advance  in  Germany 
was  naturally  disputed  wherever  possible  by  the  Protestants. 
The  very  ambiguous  character  of  the  Peace  of  Augsbuig  was 
the  excuse  if  not  the  cause  of  many  altercations.  Eveiy  prince 
could  determine  the  religion  that  should  prevail  in  his  princi- 
pality. The  same  right  was  granted  to  the  imperial  towns.  But 
every  imperial  town  where  in  1555  more  than  one  religion  was 
established  had  to  maintain  those  religions  in  the  same  propor- 
tion as  then  prevailed.  Such  a  provision  was  admirably  calcu- 
lated to  create  trouble.  Out  of  it  disputes  arose  in  Aachen  where 
the  Lutherans  and  Calvinists  demanded  the  right  to  exercise  their 
religions.  Their  contentions  were  not  decided  until  1598  when 
all  Protestant  worship  was  abolished  in  Aachen  by  order  of  the 
Emperor.  The  provisions  of  the  Peace  of  Augsburg  were  also 
involved  in  a  struggle  that  arose  for  the  possession  of  Cologn^ 
In  1583  the  Archbishop  Gebhard  married,  and  being  k>ath  to 


PAPACY  AND  EMPIRE  509 


^  his  see  he  attempted  to  Protestantize  it    Such  an  act  was  . 

x>urse  a  direct  violation  of  the  ecclesiastical  reservaticm.    The 

ctical  annulment  of  the  provision  in  their  favor  was  not  ^•^•'^•*^ 

rdcome  to  the  Protestant  princes,  but,  owing  to  the  disputes 

ween  the  Lutherans  and  the  Calvinists  and  between  the  Lu- 

rans  themselves,  Gebhard  f ail^H  tn  rorpivt^  ^\\^  combined  Prot* 

int  support.    The  warlike  prelate  was  forced  to  flee  mto  the 

I  Ernest,  a  brother  of  the  duke  of  Bavaria,  was  elected  arch- 
lop.  The  recovery  of  this  important  province  to  Catholicism 
decidgd  eftect  upon  th^  [Situation.    In  158S  thf^  im[WreiTit 


gfaboring  bistiopncs,  Mtuister,  Paderbom,  and  Osnabnick, 
re  restored  to  Catholicism,  and  socki  afterwards  they  were 
lowed  by  the  smaller  one  of  Minden.  Not  so  immediately 
cessf ul  for  the  Catholics  was  the  fight  for  ^trachn^g^  a  town 
which,  according  to  the  settlement  of  1555,  churches  of  the 

and  new  faiths  were  to  be  permitted,  but  in  which  the  an* 
it  worship  in  the  Catholic  churches  had  been  suppressed.  An 
ht  months'  war  ended  with  the  agreement  to  divide  the  diQ- 
g  ^twpgn  a  Pmtpstant  and  a  Catholic  bishop  until  the  dispute 
>uld  be  finallv  decided  in  court  At  the  compromise  of 
genau  in  1604  the  Protestant  bishop  was  bought  ffl^r  New 
iiolic  leaders  appeared  in  the  persons  of  a  p**^  ^uV^  ^^  ^q- 
ia,  Maximilian  I  (i^8^-i6t;i),  and  the  arcfOuke  Ferdinand 
na  who  afterwards  ascended  the  imperial  thronel  Slaxi* 
ian,  who  became  known  as  **  the  Catholic/'  found  the  duchy 
vily  burdened  with  debt  and  in  a  disorderly  conditicm;  but 
lecade  of  his  vigorous  administration  put  the  province  into 
h  good  shape  as  to  enable  him  to  take  an  effective  part  in 

great  war  of  the  next  century.  He  was  devoted  to  the  cause 
Qitholicism  because  for  long  that  cause  was  the  traditional 
icy  of  his  dynasty  and  because  he  perceived  that  it  coincided 
h  his  political  prosperity.  He  was  not  only  an  excellent  ad- 
listrator,  but  also  an  accomplished  statesman  and  a  man  of 
i  courage.  Educated  by  the  Jesuits  in  the  University  of 
nolstadt,  Ferdinand  became  the  most  vigorous  of  all  the  Ger- 
n  princes  in  support  of  the  aggressive  Catholicism  of  the 
e.  When  he  assiuned  the  government  of  the  archduchies  of 
Tia,  Carinthia,  and  Camiola  he  suppressed  the  Protestant 
rship  and  offered  to  his  Protestant  subjects  the  alternatives 
conversion  or  exile. 

mch  acts  of  agp^^sion  as^  ^p  fiaw  nof^H  nn  ttiA  parf  ^4  lvi»lt 

^fAcfanfc  anH  Pafii/^iirg  found  thrif  nimint  if  nnf  »^fir  origin 

he  exceedingly  nnsaficfartnry  rhararfi*r  n^  fh^  P^ari^  nf  j\\}g^ 


5IO 


THE  CATHOLIC  REFORMATION 


Qg^'     hmgr    The  conflict  between  the  two  camps  could  not  find  its 
end  in  any  such  half-way  measure.    The  whole  period  of  the 

rds  of 


actionin 
FaTor  of 
Oattioll- 
diiii 


The  next  century  was  to  reap  the  harvest  of 


1576.1612  Emperoj 

gennioating. 
"disaster. 

Militant  Catholicism  achieved  the  most  astonishing  successes. 
Much  was  accomplished  by  political  and  military  measures.  But 
it  was  not  chiefly  to  ordinances  and  to  force  of  arms  that  these 
successes  were  due,  but  to  a  great  reaction  of  public  opinion. 
"  During  the  first  half  century  after  the  commencement  of  the 
Reformation,"  says  Macaulay,  "the  current  of  feeling  in  the 
countries  on  this  side  of  the  Alps  and  of  the  Pyrenees  ran  im- 
petuously towards  the  new  doctrines.  Then  the  tide  turned, 
and  rushed  as  fiercely  in  the  opposite  direction.  Neither  during 
the  one  period  nor  during  the  other  did  much  depend  upon  the 
event  of  battles  or  sieges.  The  Protestant  movement  was  hardly 
checked  for  an  instant  by  the  defeat  at  Miihlberg.  The  Catholic 
reaction  went  on  at  full  speed  in  spite  of  the  destruction  of  the 
Armada.  It  is  difficult  to  say  whether  the  violence  of  the  first 
blow  or  of  the  recoil  was  the  greater.  Fifty  years  after  the 
Lutheran  separation,  Catholicism  could  scarcdy  maintain  itself 
on  the  shores  of  the  Mediterranean.  A  hundred  years  after  the 
separation,  Protestantism  could  scarcely  maintain  itself  on  the 
shores  of  the  Baltic.''  After  all  due  allowance  has  been  made 
for  the  rhetorical  exaggeration  of  this  passage  the  fact  remains 
that  the  situation  at  the  end  of  the  century  was  altogether  unlike 
that  at  the  opening  of  the  second  quarter  of  the  century.  "  Not 
only  was  there  at  this  time  a  much  more  intense  zeal  among  the 
Catholics  than  among  the  Protestants/'  continues  Macaulay, 
"but  the  whole  zeal  of  the  Catholics  was  directed  against  the 
JProtestants^  while  almost  thjf  whnip  zeal  ^f  the  Protestants  was 
directed  against  each  other.  Within  the  Catholic  Church  there 
were  no  serious  disputes  oh  points  of  doctrine.  The  decisions 
of  the  Council  of  Trent  were  received  .  .  .  the  whole  force  of 
Rome  was  therefore  effective  for  the  purpose  of  carrying  on  the 
war  against  the  Reformation.  On  the  other  hand,  the  force 
which  ought  to  have  fought  the  battle  of  the  Reformation  was 
exhausted  in  civil  conflict.  While  Jesuit  preachers,  Jesuit  con- 
fessors, Jesuit  teachers  of  youth,  overspread  Europe,  eager  to 
expend  every  faculty  of  their  minds  and  every  drop  of  their 
blood  in  the  cause  of  their  Church,  Protestant  doctors  were  con- 
futing, and  Protestant  rulers  were  punishing,  sectaries  who  were 
just  as  good  Protestants  as  themselves." 


L 


CHAPTER  XXVIII 

MAGYAR  AND  SLAV 

I*    The  Eclipse  of  Hungary. 

2.  The  Uniting  and  Dissolution  of  Poland. 

3.  The  Rise  of  Russia. 

AST  of  the  peoples  whose  political  careers  we  are  to  notice    __ 

are  the  Magyars  and  Slavs.    It  is  merely  as  a  matter  of      

convenient  arrangement  that  we  are  to  deal  with  them  in  the  i*76-i5a6 
same  chapter  and  not  because  they  are  closely  related  to  each 
other.  There  is,  indeed,  between  them  a  great<>r  Hiffprmre  thr^p 
between  German  and  French^  They  lived  upon  the  confines  of 
Eurc^>ean  aViUzsillOft  &tld  S&  they  have  not  figured  very  largely 
in  our  previous  chapters. 

The  Magyars  found  themselves  situated  in  a  country  of  un- 
usual geographical  unity  and  great  fertility,  lying  as  it  does 
within  the  immense  curve  of  the  Carpathians  and  having  for 
its  southern  boundary  the  Danube  and  the  Save.    But  dwelling  timd*- 
as  they  did  between  the  Byzantine  ^nd  G^rmamV  Empire^  they  JJJ**^ 


were  subjected  to  many  dangers.    Aft^r  a  varied  and  turbulent  fariwn 
history  the  thirteentn  century  witnessed  their  imminent  relapse 
into  barbarism.    From  that  peril  they  wpr#>  qj^yH  ^y  *^"^^  prt'n/^^ 

82),  who  led  the  Magyars  back  to  civilization  and  won  for  their 
nation  an  important  place  in  the  affairs  of  Europe.  But  almost 
a  generation  before  the  death  of  Louis  the  Turks  had  set  foot 
in  Europe  and  b^^n  their  advance  to  the  west.  Three  names 
stand  out  prominently  in  the  resistfiny;f  ^f  Himgaiy  to  fVi#>  Tiir^g 
The  Emperor  Sigismund^  a  brave  soldier  and  a  far-seeing  states- 
man  wiio  from  13S7  to  1437  was  also  king  of  Hungary,  strug- 
gled valiantly  against  the  oncoming  of  the  Crescent  throughout 
Ae  half-century  of  his  reign;  and  the  famous  warrior  John 
Ilun^^dy  (1387-1456),  who  rose  from  the  position  of  an  6b- 
scure  noble  to  be  the  leader  of  his  nation,  seemed  at  one  time 
to  be  on  the  point  of  driving  the  Turks  back  across  the  Helles- 
pont.   No  less  famous  was  Matthias  I   (1458-90),  a  son  of 

5" 


512 


THE  CATHOUC  REFORMATION 


ItTi-liM 


Hunyady  who  ascended  the  throne,  who  made  his  couuirj  ttl 
most  powerful  in  central  Europe,  and  who  if  he  did  not  titrntm 
the  position  of  the  Turics  as  seriously  as  his  &fber  had  done  tf 
least  compelled  them  to  retreat  beyond  tfie  Ralkana,    It  wai 

fmAcm.  The  death  of  Matthias  was  fcSkmtd  by  a  refi^iie  into 
medieval  chaos.  So  terrible  was  tfie  oppression  of  the  yicaBJHitjy 
^hli\  thfiY  nrvf  ir  '-^'"^^  But  altfaoogh  the  half-dad  aSTpoS^ 
armed  countrymen,  joined  by  tfie  rabUe  of  the  towns,  met  widi 

some  successes  they  soon  

who  punished  them  with  fiendish  ferocity.  The  stq)pressioo 
the  revolt  did  not  put  an  end  to  die  troubles  of  the  time.  The 
entire  laboring  dass  had  been  transformed  into  a  force  sidknljr 
hostile  to  the  selfish  aristocracy  and  the  whide  jftr^Tihr*^  irf  *^ 
time  was  one  of  robbery,  crudty.  and  vicient  toth*  Eveiyspaifc 
^of  patriotism  nad  been  extmguisiied.  ""it  tius  realm  ooidd  lie 
saved  at  the  expense  of  Aree  florins,"  said  tfie  pBpel  envoy* 
'*  there  is  not  a  man  here  willing  to  make  the  sacrSke."  Litde 
wonder  that  dty  after  dty  f dl  into  the  hands  ^  SnJTBBr  ^ 
Magnificent.  In  1526  the  hastily  gatnereci  lorces  of  tfie  Hib- 
garians,  so  pitiful  in  their  appearance  that  the  saltan  ooidd  not 
believe  that  they  constituted  die  national  army,  were  campleldy 
annihilated  in  Uie  battle  of  Mdhacs.  When  t^^e  Tiirk^,j||  asL 
on  their  homeward  march  they  took  with  diem  more  dum  t 

fninHr<>H  thnyoanrl  gaptivgs  and  ^  «K»mOUS  SmOUnt  of  spJL 

arter  of  the  country,  wrote  a  contemporary,  had  oeen 
ruined  as  completely  as  if  it  had  been  subjected  to  a  devastating 
flood.  No  longer  could  Hungary  make  the  proud  claim  of  being 
the  "  Buckler  of  Christendom." 

But  a  worse  disaster  was  to  befall  the  unhs^y  country. 

There  were  two  claimants  for  the  throng,  Jnlin  7a|v\]jrg   (1526- 

40)  and  the  archduke  Ferdinand  of  Austria,  and,  imdcr  the 
pretext  of  enforcing  the  conteiilioiiS  61  \M  rivals,  tmscrupulous 
adventurers  of  every  sort  oppressed  fhr  rirnnntt  imm  one  end 
of  the  land  to  the  other.  Rapme  and  robbery  were  every  day 
affairs.  Finally,  in  1538,  fh^  two  rnnt<M|tanfc  apr#M*r1  1^  ^iv^^ 
between  themsdves.  that  part  of  the  country  which  was  not  in 
possession  of  the  Turks.  One-third  of  the  land,  the  part  ad- 
joining Austria,  was  retained  by  Ferdinand,  while  the  remaining 
two-thirds,  of  which  the  prindpal  part  was  Transylvania,  to- 
gether witfi  the 
War  broke 


BtflpMOf 


vlkl.Tr^^l^ 


-^1    ^PO'ya  '""'I  <;n^vman  r«Mi^«^  tiU  invasion.     P«ace  was  ma- 

aaaed  Dy  another  division.    Thu  time  Austria  obtained  a  modi 


MAGYAR  AND  SLAV 


S13 


aovm 


PolMiA 


uger  share,  securing  thirty-five  of  the  seventy-three  counties. 
ohn  Sigismund,  the  infant  son  of  Zapolya,  kept  Transylvania 
nd  sixteen  counties  together  with  the  title  of  prince ;  while  the 
Turks  acquired  all  the  remainder  of  the  country  which  included 
oost  of  the  central  counties.  This  partition  of  Hungary  con- 
mtied  until  almost  the  end  of  the  seventeenth  century.  Th^  {^r. 
ni  thft  three  divisions  continually  fluctua|fr],  nnri  Trtintyl 
fell  alternately  under  \\\f^  inflnppp^  ^^  |tir^-^yjpc||lin.y  ^q^ 

he  Ottoman  power.  _ 

We  bave  seen  something  of  the  development  of  humanism  in 
Vdand  and  of  the  part  which  that  border  land  played  in  the 
cdesiastical  revolution.  At  this  point  we  are  to  deal  with  its 
olitical  development  and  the  changes  effected  by  the  militant 
Catholicism  of  the  time.  It  wjinjiUcT  a  pnriod  of  Imrli  iiiu  11  " 
nd   retrogression  that   Sigismund  I 

rMOiigj.  On  eveiy  side  i>&ve  only  on  the  southwest  where  it 
radied  the  Carpathian  mountains  his  country  lacked  the  ad- 
antage  of  a  natural  boundary ;  and  on  all  sides  she  was  f^^^  ^^ 
ay  with  am'essiv^  nnfl  ^^«'*^^'^"  nni'imiii  1 1  'n#>ofiy  ^^  the  new 
jng  saw,  there  was  great  need  of  an  effective  army.  But  so 
adifferent  were  the  privileged  classes  to  the  welfare  of  their 
ountry  that  a  quarter  of  a  century  went  by  before  Sigismund 
uoceeded  in  getting  something  like  a  satisfactory  increase  and 
Dq>rovement  of  the  military  force,  and  even  that  step  was  gained 
nly  by  the  granting  of  impolitic  compromises.    It  was  not  only 

he  aHvatiringr  Muscovite  and  TtirW  that  tfireafeneH  thi>  p^arp  i^i 

?0land.    There  were  grave  internal  disturbances.    Members  of 
he  nobility  and  the  bourgeoisie  had  appropriated  the  humanism 
4  the  Renaissance  with  such  avidity  that  it  was  said  that  "  more 
.atinists  were  to  be  found  in  Poland  than  there  used  to  be  in 
.jitium."    But  this  appetite  for  the  new  learning  could  not  be 
atisfied  in  the  provincial  schools  of  the  country  nor  in  the  uni- 
'crsity  of  Cracow,  the  national  capital,  for  those  institutions 
rere  still  committed  to  the  scholasticism  of  a  departed  age.    So 
hey  went  abroad,  especially  to  the  schools  of  Germany.    Many 
4  them  returned  to  propagate  the  conflicting  creeds  of  the  vari- 
rtts  Protestant  churches;  and  the  Anti-Trinitarians,  as  we  have 
,  gained  a  substantial  following  m  the  distracted  country. 
Sigismund  11  (1548-72)  proved  a  sagacious  director  in  this  nmxtnim 
of  g^ve  disturbances.    To  his  initiative  was  due  the  JiJ^U^" 
ation  of  the  Livonian  provinces  in  1561-2  and  tne  welding  KmaKwi^. 
jer  in  i  ^6q  of  all  the  looselv  related  Polish  possessions  jy  ^^ 
Jnion  of  Lublin.    Sigismund.  however,  died  childless,  and  "Wp 
rith  him  the  great  Jagellon  dynasty  that  for  so  long  had  guided 


5M 


THE  CATHOLIC  REFORMATION 


with  keen  perception  the  destiny  of  this  countiy  so  prone  to 
anarchy.  After  an  interregnum  of  a  year  HcnryofVaWs, 
Duke  of  Anjou,  was  elected  king.  But  previously  Ihi  fuUT 
nbUtt'liad  passed  the  "  Henrican  Articles "  that  made  the 
monarchy  but  an  empty  name.  Ho  kiny  thereafter  was  to  be 
qilpK^fiHi  wifh  ^f\V  66W&f  Bevond  that  of  summoning  the  did 
at  will,  leading  the  army,  appointing  to  ttie  chief  military  and 
gcrfesiastical  postsTand  flyuiUIti  hi  Ulti  public  l!>Ageanis  ana  liali: 
b^^D£j[fia5tS;,  He  had  no  voice  in  the  choice  of  his  successor, 
nor  could  he  marry  without  the  consent  of  the  senate.  Thus 
was  the  Polish  monarchy  completely  transformed.  Henry,  in- 
stead of  hesitating  at  the  insulting  terms,  employed  cajolery  and 
corruption  to  obtain  the  crown  under  thenij  and,  in  the  Jt'acta 
Camz^tnta,  signed  other  burdensome  ana  ntuniliating  conditions. 
Then,  thirteen  months  after  his  election,  he  suddenly  a^^aQdaaoL 
the  Polish  throne  in  order  to  secure  that  of  France  made  vacant 
by  the  death  of  nis  brother.  This  trying  period  was  followed 
by  the  brief  but  brilliant  reign  of  j^^Thm  f  Bathory^  I  ( 1575-86), 
a  gallant  soldier  who  had  seen  much  service  m  Transylvania, 
where,  indeed,  he  had  been  elected  prince,  and  a  skilful  diplomat 
As  soon  as  he  was  able  Stephen  turned  his  attention  to  the  en- 
croaching enemies  from  the  east  Not  content  with  defending 
^  frontier  he  crossed  it  and  marched  far  into  the  realms  of 
Muscovy.  For  five  months  in  1581-82  his  little  army  laid  siege 
to  the  great  and  strongly  fortified  city  of  Pskov  imder  conditions 
of  arctic  severity  until  ^^fin  f^^  Tfrrih^**j  fearing  to  lose  the 
!ar^st  city  in  his  Empire,  ce^ec|  all  f^^  T  ivnpj^  to  the  intrepid 
,er. 


ai\i 


v,^i   the  vast  plain  that  stretches  from  the  Dnieper  to  the 

Vrdl  Mountains  there  lived  a  wild  people,  hunters,  fishers  and 

;U|;iiiYe  serfs,  who  because  of  their  occupations  and  the  neces- 

>4i>   of  defending  themselves  against  the  Tartars  had  acquired 

5^4  vdt  strength  and  skill  as  horsemen  and  in  the  use  of  arms. 

''V>    were  known  as   C^ossacks,   a   word   mpaf||n|ar   fr#^tYK?^^^i 

>iKiii^clv  derived  from  tHeir  very  enemies,  the  Tartars.     Some- 

•  :Ki<  about  the  beginning  of  the  sixteenth  century  they  began 

V  ;<aau  ihcmselvogunto  a  definite  state.     It  was  but  a  nebulous 

v^<,  however,  and  its  history,  inextricably  confused  with  legend, 

*vx\i  'tot  detain  us.     Stephen  organized  six  thousand  selected 

^:*>5^'te  into  six  regiments  and  confided  to  their  care  the  de- 

«;u»^  v^'  the  eastern  frontier.     The  Cossack  community  still  con- 

omW  it*  independent  existence,  and  it  was  Stephen's  intention 

vk  wav^^  ^*^  independence  as  long  as  they  performed  the  duty 

^  i'^^ttKting  the  frontier.     But  *^^ial,  ^^fial,  and  religious  dif- 


MAGYAR  AND  SLAV 


S^S 


snrxn 


>1e?  ftnd  th#^  rn^sgarlfg  gave  risp  tn  many 

that  the  Tesuits  were  established  in 
schools  and  collies  were  soon  to  be  found  in  TbiJ( 


ri^  part  of  the  country,  the  most  important  center  of  their  j^ 
eaching  being  the  University  of  Wihia.  They  penetrated  even 
oto  Livonia,  which  haa  gone  over  to  Protestantism  abnost  en- 
irdy  and  two  of  their  colleges  were  founded  at  Doroat  and 
^iggt  The  4:eligious  tolerance  that  lOllliiilly  prevailed  in  Poland 
ind  made  the  country  a  reluge  for  the  most  radical  thinkers  of 
he  religious  revolution  gradually  disappeared.  Calvinism  was 
diminated.  Lutheranism  was  restricted,  the '  oppression  of  the 
jrredc  Catholics  greatly  diminished  their  niunber,  and  Catholicism 
lecame  thoroughly  reinvigorated. 

In  the  mind  of  Stephen  there  was  bom  the  idea  of  uniting 
E^oland,  Muscovy  and  Transylvania  into  one  compact  State 
vhose  military  power  should  eventually  expel  the  Turks  from 
lurope.  But  only  the  Jesuits  were  able  to  appreciate  the  sig- 
lificance  of  the  plan,  and  the  sudden  death  of  the  king  prevented 
m  attempt  to  realize  it. 

The  election  of  Sigismund  III  (1587-1632),  a  son  of  John  III 
»f  Sweden,  was  unfortunate  in  many  respects.  In  the  course 
>f  hia  lony  reign  there  came  to  PQ^apH  the  nppnrHmity  ni  maWingr  n^ 

icrsdf  the  most  effective  nation  in  central  Europe.    The  Mus-  SJf**^ 
x>vite  power  in  the  east  suffered  a  serious  set-back  and  Germany  swimtkta 
n  the  west  was  pltmged  into  the  horrors  of  the  Thirty  Years' 

^ar.     But  .Siysm^^ii^H  wa<s  ^inpniial  to  ^:he  y^n^finn.     He  failed 

o  Strengthen  the  country  within  its  existing  boundaries.  His 
isdm  to  the  Swedish  crown  involved  Poland  in  a  series  of  wars 
Tcmi  which  she  could  hope  to  gain  little  and  was  certain  to  lose 
nuch.  And  this  together  with  his  other  external  interests,  made 
till  more  difficult  die  task  of  reforming  the  deplorable  Polish 
tmstitution  which,  as  he  well  knew,  was  a  most  effective  pre- 
rentive  of  all  measures  looking  to  the  permanent  security  and 
"cal  greatness  of  the  country.  The  constitutioQ  providfe j  fyy  ^ 
ggtrcme  cnnHitiAn  r^f  A^^^^i.fiV^j'ifi^rt   xirV.<>f<>oc  ^l^  the  end  of  llie 

ixteenth  century  it  was  clearly  evident  that  the  future  belonged 
lot  to  any  feudal  congeries  of  powers  but  to  the  strong,  com- 
ttct,  and  centralized  monarchies.  Chief  of  the  Polish  powers 
whom  the  governmental  powef  ^as  dist^i^l1tpf^  Yitxt  tll^ 
ter  nobles^  the  lesser  nobles  (Sjdachta'l  and  fh^  ritiPA.  At 
hfft  time  th^.\^^InrhiQ  fj;^inatgrt  thi>  national  diet.  Narrow- 
ninded  and  selfish  beyond  measure  they  were  mtensely  hostile 


52^ 


THE  CATHOUC  REFORifATION 


to  anything  that  in  the  remotest  degree  reicmUed  diiriplinft 
The  ^re  needs  of  their  nation  left  thm  munored.  Monqr  thqr 
would  not  vote,  and  service  they  would  not  yolmiteer.    And  flit 


VY  one  9^  ^*^«»  ^  veto  any  and 


>  veto  any  ana  everv  nica«i«  ot  iMomaL  Tfail 
UbfTum  veto  they  rqprde^  as  one  ot  fheir  most  vakuUe  prift 
lq[es,  and  even  had  not  Sigismund  been  cqgrossed  in  so  msaj 
extenial  matters  it  would  have  been  a  very  diflktdt  task  to  hsit 
rqplaced  it  with  the  decision  by  a  plurality  of  votes  tbat  he  ss 
much  desired.  Upon  the  rock  of  their  oppoutioa  eveiy  attcnpt 
to  reform  the  constitution  was  wrecked.  Religious  ttooUes  liiis> 
tened  the  decline.  Sigismund,  actuated  by  the  Tep^^  ^"^^  «■>■ 
sigtently  opposed  to  every  sect  outside  the  Oathplk  oalc>.  The 
Protestants  were  deprived  of  alt  tneir  avil  rigiits;  and  die 
Orthodox  Greek  Catholics  who  refused  to  follow  die  exaapk 
of  large  numbers  of  their  co-rdigionists  in  acknowIed|giqg  tte 
authority  of  the  Pope  incurred  the  bitter  hatred  of  their  art- 
while  associates  and  were  subjected  to  severe  persecution.  Thai 
it  was  that  Poland  fell  irretrievaUy  into  a  oonditioo  of  politicd 
deoreiMtude. 

In  the  forest  land  of  Lake  Ilmen,  whidi  lies  between  the 
easternmost  arm  of  the  Baltic  Sea  and  the  headwaters  of  pi 
Dniq>er  River,  there  lived  in  the  ninth  century  some  Slav  and 
Finnish  tribes  who  were  subjugated  by  Norsemen  and  who  in 
time  assimilated  their  conquerors.  These  N< 
as  Rus  or  Ros  and  it  is  from  their  name  mat  l£e~  word  Russia, 
did  Ml  become  tne  cus 

luu  beuu  dtiived. 


un 


until 


ex- 

and  the  Ural  Moun- 


pansion  went  on  apace,  until  tnexaspian 
tains  were  reached,  with  little  reggrd  to  internal  conscdidation. 
The  land  p^  *^^^t  "  tall,  white  and  crafty  barbarians ''  virasdh 
vfded  ifitn  nig^py  P^'"^PiiM^^^*fr  each  ruled  by  its  own  prmce, 
that  were  connected  with  each  other  only  by  slender  ties.  For 
several  centuries  innumerable  struggles  took  place  between  the 
various  divisions  for  leadership  and  for  land.  Several  of  tfie 
more  important  of  the  principalities,  especially  those  of  Moscow 
and  of  Novgorod,  were  still  struggling  for  precedence  in  the 
middle  of  the  thirteenth  century  when  a  great  body  of  Tartars. 
"  the  terrible  strangers  whose  origin  no  man  knew,"  invaded 
the  vast  and  thinly  populated  plains  in  the  southeast  of  Muscovy 
and  made  a  capital  for  themselves,  which  they  called  Sarai,  on 
the  lower  Volga.    For  n 

Russians  in  sway.   Their  own  State,  or  Khanate,  was  known 
e  Goiden  Horde.    At  last  in  1380  internal  dissensions  amoqg 


MAGYAR  AND  SLAV  517 

dicm  enabled  a  number  of  Russian  princes  to  inflict  a  severe    ,Sfm 

defeat  upon  them  in  the  battle  of  Kulikoo.    Then  the  work  of      

consolidating  the  various  prinyipalities  nf  tK<>  ^'f^Org  ^y**  rarHi^H    •»o-iw* 

for  Others  to  finish  the  work  of  creating  the  autocratic  Empire  of 

Muscovy. 

First  of  all  the  three  great  rulers  who  together  completed  the 
"Icy  of  absorbing  the  principalities  that  still  remained  inde- 


pendent and  of  centralizing  all  governmental  authority  was  Ivan  inatto 
III  (1462-1505),  sumamea  the  Ureat.  Ut  the  nve  pnncipalities  ^^S^S* 
that  were  maepenaent  at  tne  ume  ot  Rls  accession  he  succeeded  in 
subduing  two;  while  his  son  Basil  III  (1505-33)  incorporated 
the  remaining  three!  The  tasks  that  confronted  Ivao-IY  (i533- 
84)9  known  as  the  yprri{^1e^  weri*  to  prevent  the  revival  of  any 
of  the  extinct  principalities  ancj  tft^^^^^^"^^  ^"  antnrratir  n^|p- 
The  progress  of  gradual  centralization  that  had  been  going  on 
met  with  the  sullen  discontent  of  many  of  the  nobles.  Ivan  was 
a  child  of  three  when  his  father  died.  The  time  seemed  ripe 
for  the  recovery  of  lost  power  and  during  the  government  of 
the  queen-mother  and  afterwards  of  first  one  faction  of  the 
nobles  and  then  another  the  autocracy  of  the  two  preceding 
reigns  began  to  disappear.  But  in  i^y  the  boy  Pf  '^^'^^*^''^ 
had  himself  crowned,  not  merelv  asthe  grand»d'^l<'<*  ^^  Mncrovy 
but  as  the  i  sar  ( supposed  by  some  to  be  a  corruption  of  the  word 
Caesar  and  declared  by  others  to  be  an  Asiatic  title)  of  all  Russia. 
The  Golden  Horde  having  become  separated  into  several 
khanates,  two  of  them,  Kazan  and  Astrakhan,  were^  annfiy^^  ^" 
i^SS2-S4  by  the  young  T^a^  without  much  difficulty.  But  Ivan 
was  not  satisfiea  with  expansion  to  the  east.  Like  his  prede- 
cessors he  looked  with  longing  eyes  beyond  the  western  border 
of  his  domains.  There  the  Polish  possessions  stretched  from 
the  Baltic  to  the  Black  Sea  barring  the  way  to  farther  advance 
in  that  direction.  The  Polish  kings  were  equally  desirous  of 
extending  their  territory  to  the  east.  It  was,  therefore,  in- 
evitable that  conflicts  should  occur.  Ivan  the  Terrible  looked 
farther  than  any  of  his  predecessors,  who  had  desired  merely 
to  obtain  a  strip  of  Lithuania,  and,  in  order  to  make  it  possible 
for  his  subjects  to  trade  directly  with  western  Europe,  sought 
to  secure  a  stretch  of  the  Baltic  coast.  He  knew  that  his  coun- 
ny  was  closed  to  outside  intiuences  by  vast  intervening  wastes 
on  the  east  and  by  hostile  and  warring  States  on  the  west,  he 
realized  perhaps  that  it  was  powerless  to  develop  unaided  a 
satisfactory  civilization,  and  he  hoped  in  particular,  as  a  result 
of  direct  trade  with  the  west,  to  be  able  to  equip  his  soldiers 


5i8 


THE  CATHOLIC  REFORMATION 


cnsAF. 


IMS-M 


Xirsa't 
OhiradtT 


Foodor 
iTanofltch 
andBorU 
OodAnoT 


with  the  arms  and  ammunition  of  the  modem  natkms.  When  in 
1553  an  English  ship,  endeavoring  to  reach  China  by  the  noitfa- 
east  passage,  entered  the  White  Sea,  another  route  was  called 
to  his  attention,  and  the  English  were  granted  the  freedom  of 
trading  in  the  towns  of  Muscovy.  Acting  on  this  permissioo 
Anthony  Jenkinson,  an  English  sailor,  merchant,  and  explorer, 
journeyed  from  London  by  way  of  Archangel,  Novgorod,  As- 
trakhan, and  the  Caspian  Sea,  to  Bokhara,  being  the  first  Eng- 
lishman to  penetrate  central  Asia,  and  returned  by  the  same 
route.  It  was  a  roundabout  way,  however,  and  dosed  for  a 
considerable  part  of  the  year  by  ice  and  so  Ivan  still  longed  for 
a  port  on  the  Baltic.  But  war,  alternately  with  one  of  his  west- 
em  neighbors  and  then  another,  Sweden,  Livonia,  Poland,  and 
Denmark,  that  lasted  intermittently  until  his  death,  failed  to 
attain  his  object. 

The  atrocities  of  Ivan  have  doubtless  been  exaggerated.  But 
those  that  remain  after  all  possible  winnowing  of  legend  and 
fact  are  quite  sufficient  to  reveal  ^  cmel  aq^  r<>|^t1egg  t-hur^^^. 
Yet  it  was  not  the  T^nsf^jap*^  who  called  him  Terrible.  By  them 
he  was  stvled  arofffiuL  :l  word  that  signifies  the  quality  ^f  hfijuiy 
regpprl^hlf  and  the  fact  of  being  respected.  In  that  wild  land, 
however,  in  those  wild  times,  the  ruler  who  was  engrossed  ip 
the  great  task  of  fusing  into  one  the  score  of  peoples  who  owned 
his  sway  and  of  finding  an  outlet  for  them  to  the  western  ocean 
might  conceivably  resort  to  extreme  measures  without  losing  the 
approbation  of  the  mass  of  his  subjects.  And  the  fact  is  that 
in  spite  of  all  his  errors,  y\ceR^  anH  rn'n^^  he  never  ^^fit  t^'^ 
support. 

It  was  not  in  one  life-time  that  the  gigantic  task  the  Russian 
Tsar  had  set  himself  could  be  accomplished.  So  when  his  weak 
tfcoi'yilly  cnn  Tr^>r>Hr.^  (tc^«.|.^)  camc  to  thc  thronc  it  is  scarcely 

a  matter  of  surprise  that  the  old  elements  of  disorder  and  dis- 
integration reasserted  themselves.  Fortunately,  however,  thc 
brother-in-law  of  the  new  Tsar.  Boris  Qodunov^  proved  strong 
enough  to  keeo  the  restless  nobles  in  subjection.  Godunov  com- 
>fpH  \\\p^  PQtah]j|;hment  of  serfdom.  The  wide-stretchmg  plains 
of  Muscovy  were  very  thinly  populated  and  so  the  demand  for 
agricultural  laborers  was  greatly  in  excess  of  the  supply.  In 
the  competition  for  laborers  the  large  land-owners  had  a  decided 
advantage  over  the  small  ones.  It  was  proposed,  therefore,  that 
the  laborers  should  be  forbidden  to  move  from  one  estate  to 
another.  This  permanent  attachment  of  the  peasants  to  the 
land,  accomplished  in  the  time  of  the  last  of  the  dynasty  that 
had  ruled  since  the  days  of  the  Norsemen,  put  them  under  the 


MAGYAR  AND  SLAV  519 


xxvm 


HDplete  ccmtiol  of  the  men  on  whose  estates  they  lived.  An- 
her  innovation  brought  about  by  the  active  administrator  was 
te  creation  of  the  patriarchate^  The  highest  ecclesiastical  of-  ^•«*-^*®* 
aal  in  Muscovy  up  to  this  time  was  the  metropolitan.  Nomi- 
illy  he  was  subject  to  the  jurisdiction  of  the  patriarch  of  Con- 
antinople  who  was  the  head  of  the  Greek  Church.  But  nearly 
century  and  a  tialf  ago  Q>nstantinople  had  fallen  into  the 
mds  of  the  Turks  and  since  that  time  the  Tsars  had  asserted 
lemselves  to  be  the  successors  of  the  Byzantine  Emperors.  The 
astern  Church  is  not,  like  that  of  Rome,  a  monarchy  endowed 
ith  practically  unlimited  power.  It  is,  instead,  an  oligarchy 
F  patriarchs  in  which  each  patriarch  is  supreme  within  his  dio- 
»e  and  subject  only  to  a  general  council.  It  seemed  but  natural, 
lerefore,  that  the  church  in  Muscovy  should  be  given  a  head  of 
s  own  with  primary  jurisdiction.  To  this  establishment  of  a 
5W  patriarchate  the  Eastern  Orthodox  Church  gave  its  consent. 

he  |M>t^arrh   ni  rnngfantinnplp   raig^H   ffi^  tnpfrnppli^y^   fcjffhgP 

I  Muscow  to  the  patriarchal  dignitv  f nd  the  act  was  subse- 
lently  approved  by  a  general  rnyT]ri1  nf  th^  TT^stern  Church. 
So  skilful  had  been  Godunov's  conduct  of  the  affairs  of  state 
at  when  the  Tsar  died  without  a  son  to  succeed  him  he  was 
losen  by  a  national  assembly  to  be  tfiff  nfi?^t  ^"^^r  The  reign 
I  Bonis  Godunov  (1598-1605)  was  brief,  and  because  of  the 
^position  to  him  on  the  part  of  the  great  nobles  it  was  less  sue- 
sssful  than  his  administration  under  Feodor.  For  almost  two 
ecades  thp  ]pnH  wag  fiUpH  with  yii^rcenaries  and  marauder*^  nf 

1  sorts  who  pillaged  at  will  and  perpetrated  the  most  frightful 
Tocities.  Not  till  the  Romanov  dynasty  ascended  the  throne 
I  1613  was  peace  restored  to  the  robber-ridden  and  famine- 
ricken  country.  And  tmtil  ^h^  coming  of  Pft^*-  ^^^  rif^f  ^uia 
nd  whose  possibilities  are  still  unplumbed.  wherft  PTf^^^^^? 
ilgnms  stUA  trudge  the  hifi[hwavs^  where  the  west  with  its 
comity  gradli&lly  merges  into  the  leisured  east,  remained  ii 


most  utter  ignorance  of  the  civilizat^pn  nf  Furnp^  The  cul- 
ire  and  the  Christianity  of  Muscovy  were  both  borrowed  from 
le  corrupt  and  decrepit  Eastern  Empire.  And  when  the  culture 
id  the  religion  of  the  later  Byzantine  Empire  are  recalled  to 
iind  the  claim  of  the  Tsars  to  be  the  successors  of  the  Byzantine 
ilers  becomes  most  significant 


CHAPTER  XXDC- 


THB  BBPUBUC  OV  UCTTBIS 


14S0-lt00 


or  tk» 


ThtZnflv- 
MM*  of 
Ibothii- 


t.   The  Rise  of  t  Etuopean 

public  of  Letters, 
a.    Tne  Fhiloflqphen. 

3.  The  Philolonans. 

4.  The  Printer-Publishera, 

5.  The  Jurists. 


d  The  Publicists. 

7.  The  Historiaiis. 

&  Thte  Poets. 

9.  The  Draantists. 

la  The  Nordists. 


WHEN  th^.SsQaiMaafia  spread  from  Italy  to  the  other  oooa* 
tries  of  western  Europe  it  r^g^\u^  in  |jm^   deqiite  dl 
national  differences,  in  thy  formation  of  a  commop  cnltmg^  a 

taeaa,  t^r  all  T^fi  rt^ff^^^*^  eimntrigs.  " 

pShtftal  antagonism  failed  to  prevent  intelleetuai  and  artiitk 
association  and  communion.  The  common  interests  of  *"""rirr' 
became  ever  piore  subtle  and  pervasive.  They  broadened  into 
common  activities  in  letters,  art,  and  science.  The  love  of 
beauty  and  the  search  for  trudi  answered  to  the  need  and  edioed 
the  desire  of  human  life  in  every  natioo,  no  matter  how  auudeitd 
from  its  fellows  by  the  estranging  tide  of  clashing  materid 
interests.  Political  confederation  lay  far  in  die  future,  as  it 
still  does  to-day,  but  Europe  was  united  in  a  common  enthusiamB 
for  art  and  science,  and  m  a  ccmmion  taitn  m  tne  splenciid  future 

ley  were  ifi  bring  to  birth.  In  spite  of  all  its  wars  and  revolu- 
tions the  ^^'?rt??n^^  /^^nfiiry  yitncsscd  the  acme  pf  »^^  ^*%  nf 
painting,  and  it  is  from  the  same  period  that  we  date  the  begin- 
"nmg  of  modem  scientific  and  philosophical  thought 

The  Latin  tongue  was  still  emoloYe^l  jp  the  iipiver<|i(^^  anH  it 

a  Etirnppan  r**p"^i^'^  f^^  i^ffot-e,  Humanism  had  g^atly  secu- 
larized the  universities  and  it  had  been  the  paramount  influence 
in  the  development  of  the  secondary  schools.  The  miHrHe  (^la— 
it  was  that,  in  every  country,  profited  chiefly  bv  t^^y  l^*V?^^niy^ 
of^acaden?ir  efl^^t^(7n;  So  weli  did  its  members  profit  by  their 
opportunities  that,  according  to  a  French  pan^iyrist,  th^  sur- 
passed the  clergy  in  learning  and  the  nobility  in  good  manners; 
and  so  obvious  was  the  importance  of  this  new  culture  that  far 
from  despising  the  learning  of  the  burghers,  as  at  first  they  were 


THE  REPUBLIC  OF  LETTERS  521 

wont  to  do,  the  nobles  ended  by  sending  their  sons  to  their     ^^ 

idiools.    Thus  were  the  several  classes  in  each  of  the  various      

countries  represented  in  the  new  republic.  lAso-ieoo 

The  influence  of  tViA  pii>^]jgVi<>rQ  in  helping  to  establish  this 
republic  of  letters  shot^lj  not  pagg  iinnf)|;]^;^H.  After  the  inven-  TteXaflu- 
bon  of  printing  the  work  of  writing  a  book  and  the  business  of  S?Pmb- 
producing  it  and  placing  it  for  sale  upon  the  market  came  to  be  Haibnu 
differentiated.  In  the  process  of  becoming  established  as  a 
separate  class  the  publishers  found  that  they  needed  men  of  let- 
ters as  assistants.  These  men  whose  work  it  was  to  correct 
typographical  errors,  mistakes  in  grammar,  and  other  shortcom- 
ings, were  known  as  proofieadfiCSft  They  were  employed  to  esti- 
mate the  value  of  the  manuscripts  submitted  for  publication,  to 
give  advice  to  their  employers  regarding  the  probable  sale  and 
intrinsic  worth  of  literary  productions.  Thus  they  exercised  a 
it  influence  in  the  civ^liya^^^"  ^^  ^^<*  ^^^tj  Leading  men  ot 
not  reluctant  to  accept  such  positions.  The  pub- 
themselves  did  much  to  further  the  interests  of  the  repub- 
lic of  letters.  Aldo  Manuzio  (i4^o--i5)if>).  the  founder  of  the 
Aldine  press,  made  more  secure  the  possessions  of  many  master- 
pieces of  Greek,  Latin,  and  Italian  literature  and  greatly  ex- 
tended their  use  by  putting  them  in  type.  He  chose  Vfinif*^  ^^ 
the  site  of  his  press  because  it  was  a  great  distributing  center; 
and  the  beauty  oi  nis  type  and  paper  surpassed  that  of  any  of 
his  predecessors.  So  devoted  was  he  to  his  work  that  he^^ifid 
a  poor  man,  but  he  had  "  bequeathed  <^r<>^h  1^^^^^^^^^  ^"^  ^^  ^'"- 
aiienable  possession  to  the  world.*'  His  son.  Paolo  Manuzio 
(1512-74),  Who,  after  an  interval,  carried  on  his  work,  found 
tfie  list  of  Greek  classics  almost  completely  finished;  so,  being 
passionately  jlfivoted  to  Cicero,  his  principal  publications  were 
in  j[t^  fiplr^  pf  V-ajit^  letters.  He  left  the  work  of  his  press  to 
be  carried  on  by  his  son,  tlie  younger  Aldo  Manuzio  (1547-97) 
with  whom  the  work  of  the  famous  press  came  to  an  end. 

published  many  of  Erasmus*s 

most  important  center  of 

rjpi-pnaw  pn'tifSng^  on/I  pitMiVQfi'riti  ?t[  ij^e  sixtcentfi  cctitury.    Alter 

nis  death  the  work  of  his  press  was  carried  on  by  his  son  Jerome 
and  by  his  son-in-law  Nicolaus  Episcopius. 

The  ideals  and  the  work  of.  the  riceroni^flg  yrere  g^l^j^  q  fg^^^rxf 
in  8hapinjB[  the  literary  republic.    All  through  the  Middle  Ages  Tb«oiMr 
it  was  Cicero  who  had  been  the  principal  exemplar  of  the  art  •»*•« 
of  rhetoric,  as  Vergil  was  the  leading  name  in  Latin  literature. 
In  the  period  of  the  Renaissance  his  influence  became  paramount. 
**  Father  supreme  of  Roman  eloquence,"  he  was  styled  by  Pe- 


5^ 


THE  CATHOLIC  REFORMATION 


trarch,  who  was  enchanted  witfi  tiie  linked  mootfmcM 
drawn  out  of  his  favorite  anthor.    Something  of  the 
^^'^^'^^^  of  Cicero  upon  Italian  men  of  kcteri  from  Petrarch  to 

we  have  seen  in  our  previous  chapters  that  deal  witih  fiteiatna- 


v1^-^-<»l 


BtMdiior 

thtlA- 


a  servile  imitation,  which,  in  1536;  in  Us  Ciceramkmmt, 
cleverly  caricatured  and  seriously  refuted  by  Erasmua.  Hi 
masterly  exposition  aroused  a  storm  of  oppontion.  Ensnaii 
himself  did  not  reply  to  any  of  the  attacks  of  tibe  extreme  Ckos* 
nians  but  others  did.  The  battle  of  books  continued  beyond  fell 
death  and  did  not  come  to  an  end  until  the  first  decade  of  Ihs 
seventeenth  century  had  been  passed.  The  phrase^noogerim 
of  the  Cicgj2Qiam.was  unfortunate  in  so  far  as  it  led  men  ts 

tn  tli#>  nui^p^r  in  which  he  said  JL    Yet  m  SO  far  as  iLhcW 
lish  a  barbai 
meidity  and  el< 


Important,  too.  in  the  fonnatkm  of  the  rqmblic  of  letten 
the  influence  ^f  RraaiTl"''  fr"^  ^^  ^^  entire  generatioD  ^fHni'wrH 
the  minds  of  men,  whose  Latin,  devoid  of  pedantry  and  faMtiad 
with  an  incomparable  linguistic  feeling,  was  a  worid4oqgue^far 
the  ideas  and  the  sentiments  of  the  time,  and  whose  thoqgliMBd 
so  mucn  to  leaa  men  mto  the  modem  wmd  We  have  akca^T 
dbcussed  the  remedy  that  he  had  to'o£Fer  for  the  settlement  ef 
the  ecclesiastical  abuses  and  theological  differences  of  Us  tima 
It  was  but  natural  that  this  delicate,  smal!,  and  siddy  man,  wiA 
the  half-shut,  blue,  observing  eyes,  should  rely  so  entirely  upon 
words.  But  always  he  battled  for  the  liberal  ideas  of  tiie  time. 
The  joy  of  the  emancipated  intellect  in  its  freedom  irradiates 
his  personality  and  shines  through  his  \rit  and  humor  no  less 
than  through  his  scholarly  and  critical  earnestness.  The  tide 
of  enthusiasm  for  the  new  learning  had  already  flowed  into  tiie 
principal  countries  of  Europe  and  now  it  was  finding  its  way 
into  the  most  remote  places.  Much  of 4hfiJfi£SL£fJetters  tiiat 
had  grown  up  in  Germany,  France,  England.  Spain  an< 

was  the  creation  pf  Fr'"*'^^''  ^^^  ^r^r^A^  measure 
his  influence  in  the  new  republic,  but  we  know  it  to  have  been 
vast. 

The  unfavorable  ry5ai1tg  to  lexers  that  were  the  iflttmediate  cut- 
come  of]hli<>  Tjiffi#>ygm  grhism,  unti  the  Still  more  unfavoraUc 


res 


ts  of  the  mutual  antagomsms  of  the  various  Protestant 
churches  and  sects,  have  sdready  been  noticed    In  Germamf 

thm^grhniit  the  entire  rniintry,  jn  (;;athQlic  and  Protestant  lSi3i 
alilre,   ^here  was   a  diirtinrt  intellects 


1-1«1«;M1 


THE  REPUBLIC  OF  LETTERS  525 


IS  if  that  land  had  exhausted  itself  in  the  efforts  put  forth  dur-     ^^' 

kig  the  great  revolution.    In  those  years  hope  ran  high  and  a      

general  soaring  of  the  intellectual  life  had  been  expected.  That  ***^**** 
hope  was  not  fulfilled.  Instead,  all  the  conditions  of  the  times, 
die  petty  squabbles  of  the  period,  weighed  upon  the  intellectual 
life.  The  opening  of  the  second  half  of  the  sixteenth  century 
saw  the  banning  of  the  rudest  period  in  the  social  and  literary 
bistory  of  Germany.  The  ^theological  interests,  which  became 
ever  narrower  and  dulle^,  killed  eyery  other  form  of  int^i^^ip) 
actmtv^  There  was  a  long  pause  m  the  progress  of  the  Ger* 
man  intellect  The  indestructible  strength  of  that  intellect  re- 
realed  itself  in  only  one  thing,  the  development  of  the  positive 
Bciences,  in  this  period  of  decline. 

If  such  had  been  the  influence  of  the  Protestant  Revolution, 
what  was  that  of  the  Catholic  Reformation?  It  has  been  cus- 
bomary  to  describe  the  revival  of  the  militant  activity  of  the 
Mother  Qiurch  as  being  reactionary  in  character.  And  such  it  BMoits 
was  in  so  far  as  it  wished  to  restore  to  Catholicism  its  medieval  ^i^S!oL 
character  and  to  make  that  Catholicism  predominant  in  Europe,  thoiiciai 
But  what  was  the  influence  of  the  movement  upon  letters  and 
apon  art?  It  has  been  the  fashion  to  describe  that  influence  as 
wholly  detrimental.  Such,  however,  was  not  the  case.  J^  Sp^JB- 
it  is  true,  the  Inquisition,  under  the  <^nTltr^^  ^^  t^"*  Cf^fo  ^^^ 
more  than  that  of  the  Qiurch^  had  a  blighting  effe<^t  upon 
intellectual  and  artistic  activity.  But  the  social  and  intellectual 
decline  of  Italy  was  due  in  a  large  degree  to  secular  causes.  The 
interminable  wars  of  the  plundering  French,  Swiss,  Germans  and 
Spaniards  did  much  to  despoil  the  peninsula  of  its  bloom  and 
to  impoverish  the  people.  Without  the  least  desire  to  palliate 
the  crimes  of  the  Inquisition  or  to  condone  the  oppression  of 
the  Index,  it  may  be  said  that  these  and  the  other  instruments 
and  forces  of  militant  Catholicism^  yhjl^  tVipy  w^rp  pr't.iilgftristr 
to  ttie  ptiilosophical  thought  of  the  tim^^  had  Ipsr  t^  do  with 
the  Recline  of  art  and  literature  in  ft^ly  than  is  generally  y- 
Militant  Catholicism,  though  antagonistic  to  the  thought 
of  a  Bruno,  whose  philosophy  we  are  soon  to  consider,  ^ffg  ^y 
tm  m^an.q  oppos^^  to  literature  and  art  in  the  abstract.  The 
militant  movement  of  Catholicism  was  directed  against  the  abuses 
that  existed  within  the  Church,  against  Protestantism,  and 
against  philosophic  thought  that  seemed  to  deny  its  dogmas. 
It  was  by  no  means  directed  against  the  Renaissance  in  its 
artistic  aspects.  The  truth  is  that  the  artistic  Renaissance  died 
a  natural  death.  Like  all  other  similar  outbursts  of  the  human 
spirit  it  was  followed  naturally  by  a  period  of  the  sere  and 


5^ 


THE  CATHOLIC  REFORMATION 


^^*     yellow  leaf,  a  time  of  lassitude  and  decline.    It  seems  to  be  a 

law  in  the  economy  of  nature  that  a  period  of  creative  prodnc- 

14M-1S00   ^j^jj  j^^jg  ^Q  Qjjg  q£  introspecticm  and  meditaticm.     Militant 

Catholicism,  then,  did  not  attempt  to  stifle  or  to  put  back  ibt 
artistic  Renaissance.  It  rather  appropriated  the  products  of 
an  epoch  whose  decline  was  due  to  internal  conditions.  The 
enthusiasm  for  art  and  literature  was  greater  in  Catholic  than 
in  Protestant  countries.  In  every  land  that  wa,Q  invaH#>#^  l^ 
Calvinism  the  appreciation  Q^  ^^  r^^/^HnAH    while  the  ideal  of 

^  life  in  Catholic  countries  continued  to  be  sensuous  and  aesthetic 
TliA  ii'f^  piiti  imitiirr  nf  thi  rntlifliii  r^^pl^  i^'^'^f  nrhrr  inri  mnr^ 
Ti^l7nnni^]iQ  fh^n  thof  r.4  fK#>  pmtPQtant<^  ''  Enthusiasm  for  aft 
and  taste  spread  in  proportion  as  the  Counter^Reformation  ad- 
vances," says  Gothein,  "  while  in  Protestant  countries  ecclesias- 
tical and  civil  art  alike  fall  into  decay."  The  noble  bearing  and 
the  careful  calculation  of  appearance  and  deportment  which  were 
practised  at  the  Catholic  courts  of  the  Romance  countries,  as 
distinguished  from  those  of  the  Protestant  lands,  which  for  tfie 
time  nearly  all  sank  into  rudeness  of  manners,  were  favorable 
to  art.  Yet  the  opposition  of  the  Church  to  philosophic  tfaoujjht^ 
and  sci^tifig  jnypstigption  had  a  most  depressing  and  detrinwailal 
effect.  The  two  were  almost  inseparably  connected  at  that  time 
Speculation  seemed  to  be  opening  its  wings  for  a  great  flight 
There  was  a  noble  loftiness  of  anticipation  in  the  air.  How 
glorious  might  have  been  its  accomplishments  had  it  been  free 
to  expend  its  zeal  in  the  pursuit  of  truth! 

The  period  of  creative  production  in  art  in  Italy  was  rapidly 
drawing  to  a  close.  Torquato  Tasso  was  the  only  surviving 
genius  in  the  realm  of  literature.  In  painting  Veronese  and 
Tintoretto  represent  the  splendid  color  of  the  sunset.  Cervantes 
and  Shakespeare  represent  the  acme  of  the  creative  period  in 
Spain  and  England  which  naturally  came  later  in  those  ooon- 
tries  than  in  the  land  of  its  origin.  An  age  of  reflection  was  at 
hand.  Humanity  always  needs  time  to  digest  and  absorb  the 
new  materials  that  have  been  introduced  into  its  life  by  such  a 
period  as  that  of  the  Renaissance    rgfirigm^  speculatii^p^  ^ 

jhi^  Hpvf^lnpinent  of  science  were  th^  pngrmsgingr  i;^<piipaHi^n<j  pf 
the  members  of  the  republic  qf  l^ft<*rR  anH  nf  art  wfingf*  arfiYJfiff 
re  now  to  be  described. 

irst,  then,  we  are  to  deal  with  those  members  of  the  republic 
who  devoted  their  lives  to  philosophy.  We  shall  find  them  di- 
vided into  two  schools.  Every  one,  said  Coleridge,  is  bom  a 
Platonist  or  an  Aristotelian.  The  Ari^tntfl^^^n.*^  ^nH  tH^jf  ^ 
ponents  formed  the  two  philosophic^  camps  of  the  time.    The 


Gffowtliof 
OrltioiiBiy 
of  8p*- 
dilisstlon 
and  of 


Ariftolol- 

iMIOftlld 

Aati- 
Arlitolol- 


THE  REPUBLIC  OF  LETTERS  525 


rrifrt  thr  nnivirgj  ns  bting  Imiittd  in  txtuil 

hv  Gad  who  jitanHs  anarTf rnm  fita  work,  tratiRgf nH- 


mg  it,  and  regarding  it  as  a  potter  regards  the  vessel  he  has  ***^**^ 
turned  upon  his  wheel.  The  Platonists  of  the  tip^f*  VipM  thaf 
God  is  immanent  in  the  universe,;  that  nature  is  but  the  vesture 
ot  Its  creator.  The  former  were  legalists:  the  latter  were 
m^tjcs^  We  "have  seen  something  of  the  mysticism  of  the 
Fforentine  Academy.  In  the  first  part  of  the  sixteenth  century 
the  Neo-Platonism  of  the  Renaissance  threatened  to  assume  pre- 
dominance in  philosophic  thought ;  but  the  second  part  witnessed 
a  stiffening  of  the  opposing  thought  into  exclusive  Aristotelian- 
ism  and  intolerant  orthodoxy,  a  retrogression  into  medieval 
scholasticism.    Platonjgp^    like   all    mystic   thought,  ^mfltjfiQces 

only   those   particular   minjs    that   fiavo   ap    inwarH    affinity   f/%   tf 

It  leads  easily  to  innovation  and  to  heresy.  At^'cf/^f^lt'o^ignj  as 
it  was  known  at  that  time,  lends  itself  to  formal  Ingjg  anr^  to 
tiie  schematization  of  theology.  It  had  become  the  tyrant  of 
gimia,  tJumerous  controyersi;^  writings  fle^  back  and  forth 
between  the  two  hostile  camps,  and  academic  Hispt^^^^ons  were 
hdd.  But  theologians  of  all  the  leading  creeds  lent  their  aid  to 
the  Aristotelians,  whose  views  were  so  well-fitted  to  give  sys- 
tematic development  and  formal  completion  to  the  doctrines  they 
rq;arded  as  incontestable,  and  therefore  by  the  middle  of  ^he 

century  th^   reaction   in    favqr  of   c/-h^1actirfc|p   Ka^owi^   ^irAry^ 

Yh^ri>  m^pi^A  The  most  important  of  the  Anti-Aristotdians 
in  the  latter  part  of  the  controversy  was  Pierre  de  la  Ramee 
(1515-72),  better  known  as  Ram^g,  whom  we  paused  to  notice 
as  one  of  the  free-thinkers  oT  the  era  of  the  Protestant  Revolu- 
tkm.  The  son  of  a  peasant,  he  had  found  an  opportunity  to 
satisfy  his  consuming  thirst  for  knowledge  when  he  became 
the  servant  of  a  student  in  the  College  of  Navarre.  After  he 
had  studied  the  AnstgtfiliaiLjogic  for  three  and  a  half  years  he 
e  convinced  of  its  emptiness  and  uselessness.  For  a  quar- 
ter 0/  a  centufy '  hi  was  the  most  prominent  ^gach*:^  ^"  ^^g 
TTnlvygity  of  Pf^pg  There,  in  that  citadel  of  the  Stagirite,  he 
Mifr^^rj  in  breaking  down  the  supremacy  of  the  Aristotelian- 
ism  ot  nis  day;  and,  although  he  perishea  as  a  consequence  m 
Ehe  Massacre  of  St.  Bartholomew,  he  gave  rise  to  a  movement 
that  eventually  permeated  the  entire  republic  of  letters. 

Bom  of  the  revival  of  science,  and  deeply  imbued  with  Neo- 
Platonism,  a  new  philosophy  came  into  the  world.  One  of  the 
eariiest  of  these  thinkers  was  Girolamo  Cardancy,  ( 1  ^oi~76^ .  to 
whose  work  in  the  development  of  mathematics  we  have  already 
alluded.    In  two  great  works,  De  SubtUitate  Rerum  and  De 


5^ 


THE  CATHOLIC  REFORMATION 


OBAP. 


lAOl-88 


TtlMto 


CHordaiio 
Bmno 


Varietate  Rerum.  he  embodied  the  most  advanced  speculadon  of 
the  unfolding  science  of  the  time  that  thus  far  had  been  made; 

and  in  the  assertioi)  \\^^^  ^^^  m/^rpntr  ag  xuM  a^  \\%^  /^rpnir  realf 

is  animated  he  dwelt  upon  a  topic  that  still  fascinates  but  eluda 
the  world  of  science.  It  is  true  that  in  spite  of  his  great  aUG^ 
and  his  unfailing  industry  he  was  more  of  an  ignis  faiuus  dm 
a  steadfast  light  to  his  followers,  leading  them  at  times  astray; 
and  yet  by  insisting  upon  the  necessity  of  observing  the  processct 
of  nature  he  helped  to  pive  a  new  directitm  to  ohilosophidl 
thought. 

More  important  work  than  that  of  Cardano  in  the  foundiif 

of  a  distinctive  philosophy  of  nature  was  accomplished  by  B(p 

nardino  Telesio  ( 1^08^-88  V  a  vigorous  opponent 

jsm  and  one  of  the  most  widely  educaiea  schoTars  of  the  time. 

ttnm  n(  ^  tinKlA  Mpapnti'l^n   ^a^jjy  he  WaS  the 

movement  in  the  south  of  Italy  that  aimed  to  substitute  fftr  **^ 
thority  and  iormai  mgir  thp  ptinrtpte.  nf  jtidiT '"' — '  ^-  ^ ^ 


-.n«l«JM 


the  process  of  expen'mentatinn.  Of  course  exact  individual 
observation  of  any  considerable  range  in  time  or  space  was  lack- 
ing as  yet,  and  its  procedure  and  apparatus  were  still  in  their 
infancy,  so  that  the  b^nnings  of  the  new  philosophy  of  nature 
were  very  imperfect  And  the  ties  that  botmd  speculation  to 
the  thought  of  the  ancient  philosophers  were  still  strong.  But 
the  principles  of  observation  and  induction  were  firmly  grasped 
and  so  it  was  inevitable  that  philosophy  should  break  with  the 
past  and  spread  its  wings  for  a  larger  flight. 

With  that  knight-errant  of  thought  Giordano  Bruny  (i54^ 
1600)  philosophy  soared  to  great  heights.  i3om  at  Nol^  among 
whose  inhabitants,  it  was  said,  distinct  traces  of  the  early  Greek 
colonists  of  southern  Italy  were  still  discernible,  he  <^tgr^  ^ 
Dominican  convent  from  whose  walls  could  be  seen  tKe  gay  life 
of  Naples  and  all  the  glamour  of  its  beautiful  bay.  The  exact 
knowledge  of  Aristotle  that  he  displayed  in  his  later  years  leads 
one  to  think  that  he  b^;an  life  as  an  adherent  of  that  thinker. 
The  Dominicans  swore  by  Aristotle,  and  in  that  very  convent  his 
great  continuer,  St.  Thomas  Aquinas,  had  lived  and  worked 
But  gradual  chany  led  Bruno  l^\n  a  phi'ln'rfT^J'  ^^  ^*''  ^"vr 
He  drank  deep  from  the  well  of  Neo-Platonism ;  and  so  thor- 
oughly imbued  was  he  with  the  scientific  thought  of  his  time 
that  he  became  the  ^rst  F^^t  r^'^''T^"*  ^^  ^^^  rnpfmirar 
theon^  of  tl^fi  worlr^,  "Noble  Copernicus,''  he  said,  "whose 
monumental  work  set  my  mind  in  motion  at  an  early  age." 
Filled  with  many  doubts,  dissatisfied  with  the  old  astronomical 
theory  of  the  universe  and  the  monastic  view  of  life,  and  threat- 


THE  REPUBLIC  OF  LETTERS  527 

1  with  first  one  inquisitorial  process  and  then  another,  he  fled     ^Srrw' 
n  Naples  to  Rome,  and,  failing  to  find  a  harbor  of  refuge  in      

Holy  City,  ^^  A\^n^rA^A  hU  ^ri^f '»  rnh<>  flnH  Kpgati  fVincA  Inng    lg*8-lg00 

idfiDDgs  of  which  we  have  but  an  imperfect  record  and  that 
e  ta  end  only  with  his  death.  For  sixteen  years  he  traveled 
Switzerland,  France,  England  and  Germany,  feeling  himself 
rywhere  an  exile,  until  his  irresistible  yearning  for  the  land 
his  birth  drove  him  back  to  Italy  and  his  terrible  doom.  It 
\  only  that  south-land,  the  district  of  his  birth  that  lies  be- 
en the  fiery  volcano  of  Vesuvius  and  the  blue  and  smiling 
diterranean,  of  which  he  was  so  indigenous  a  product,  that 
Id  understand  him.  His  verRPR^  hU  stupendous  memgy^^  his 
ming,  his  s£ar}Jing.jvit,  his  virtuosity  of  conversation,  his 
ring  imagination  and  his  passionate  feeling  for  beauty  —  all 
se  opened  to  him  the  doors  of  many  a  courtly  society,  won 
Jhyn  the  favor  nf  kingy.  the  admiration  of  great  men,  and  the 
scticm  of  women.  But  the  stormy  contrasts  of  his  volcanic 
are^Jiis  outbreaks  of  immeasurable  conceit,  his  violent  attacks 

lesque  and  buffoonery  that  is  native  to  the  NeapolitaiU-gaxc 
Lift  ^<"*^"^"<'  rnni\\^t  QT^^  /^ofocffnpi^P  Superior  to  his  con- 
iporaries  in  reach  of  imagination  and  power  of  synthetic 
light,  he  was  a  lonely  man  wherever  he  went.  Yet  if  these 
iderings  brought  only  trouble  and  sorrow  to  the  man  they 
re  filled  with  suggestion  to  the  philosopher.  The  intolerance 
all  the  leading  churches  of  the  time,  personal  experience  oi 
JA  was  ills  111  abuildimL'e.  led  him  to  believe  that  not  one  of 
m  could  raise  life  and  society  to  that  high  level  it  ou^ht  to 
an.  He  found  them  all  opposed  to  the  progress  of  science; 
Br^was  as  narrowly  dogmatic  as  the  other.  'I'he  narrow 
istotelianism  of  the  schools,  the  medieval  astronomy,  and  the 
iumbing  dogmas  of  every  creed,  these  were  the  three  oppres- 
is  that  distressed  him  everywhere  he  went  —  at  Rome,  at 
jcva,  at  Paris,  at  Oxford,  and  at  Wittenberg.  So  he  made  war 
m  them.  He  was  the  first  philosopher  to  cast  them  utterly  aside. 
B  two  years  that  he  spent  in  England  form  the  zenith  of  his 
eer.  in  that  retmed  society  in  which  he  hved  and  moved,  pene- 
bed  with  the  delicate  aroma  of  the  Italian  Renaissance,  he  be- 
le  for  the  first  time  his  true  self.  There  in  the  society  nf  ^;Hn#*y 
I  of  Shakespeare,  in  that  brief  space  of  time,  he  produced  one 
er  anothef  \\\^^  f^}^  pVn'irkcrwpVi^rQi  tnacf<>rpiVrAc  jfiat  have  given 

his  name  undying  fame.  His  soaring  thought  broke  through 
fixed-star  firmament  and  his  philosophy  is  the  first  to  include 
full  consequences  of  the  Copemican  system,  the  Jdea  of  the 


5*8 


THE  CATHOLIC  REFORMATION 


OSAP. 


•  i  IJilv-*' 


unity  of  the  ^i^iverse.  the  idea  of  the  gradual  dgv^l 
it  universe,  and  the  idea  of  the  immanence  of  God  in  the  qm* 
ift68-ies»  verse.  His  distinguisning  taculty  was  imagination,'  ana  it  wis 
tne  unagination  of  a  poet  rather  than  that  of  a  philosopher.  Hb 
genius  was  essentially  spontaneous.  Prolonged  and  exact  obser- 
vation, patient  and  silent  reflection,  were  not  the  processes  be 
employed.  He  was  daring  rather  than  studious,  a  meteor  radier 
than  a  star.  But  he  was  the  first  monistic  philosopher  of  mod- 
em times  and  as  such  he  was  the  forerunner  of  Spinoza.  To- 
day a  statue  stands  in  £^^e  to  mark  the  place  where,  because 
he  declined  to  retract  his  thought,  he  was  committed  to  tiie 


OAIBPI^ 


Militant  Catholicism  seems  to  have  limited  very  greatly  the 
contemporary  influence  of  Bruno,  though  the  fact  that  it  was 
by  no  means  entirely  extinguished  is  proved  by  the  affinity  of 
the  systems  of  later  thinkers  to  his  ideas.  The  time  was  ripe 
for  new  philosophic  thought  and  so  we  find  original  thinkers  in 
almost  every  land  into  which  the  revival  of  science  and  the 
renewed  regard  for  Plato  had  won  their  way.  Thomas  Cage 
pandla  (m6&-ifaQl.  another  poet-philosopher,  began,  qmte  m  tiie 
spirii  of  immanuei  Kant,  to  doubt  the  reliabili^  of  the  knowledge 
that  man  possesses.  Sucii  knowledge,  he  said,  has  been  obtained 
soiely  througli  the  senses  which  are  limited  in  their  range  and 
which  fail  to  report  the  things  of  the  outside  world  without 
obscuring  them.  He  therefore  started  with  a  keen  analysis  of 
the  faculty  of  cognition.  The  germs  of  many  of  the  thoughts 
that  since  his  day  have  been  fruitful  in  science  and  philosoplqf 
are  to  be  found  in  his  writings.  He  wandered  restlessly  from 
place  to  place  and  l^tg  tpf>m;rig  Hpflff  never  reached  cohesiop. 
But,  by  the  magnetism  of  his  noble  personality  and  the  sttmth 
lating  character  of  his  thought,  everywhere  he  went  he  drew 
men  towards  him.  The  sum  of  his  reasoning  is  that  \n  tiie. 
universe  there  is  a  law  which^  in  c^o^fnrmity  with  TfaHTni  Ir*^*- 
men  111  the  true  wav  of  Ijf e*^,  Christianitv  is  in  harmony  wiA 

LIS  lawj?"^  thprpfn^#>  if  iq  fC  »niA  i-f^^ipnn.     In  |iift  "  O^  n^ 

[e  ^jun^  he  drew  a  picture,  as  Sir  Thomas  More  in  " Ut<^Ha " 
tad  fli'4wd'75Re  betore  mm,  ot  an  ideal  staie  ot  society.  Ifis 
thought  was  too  audacious  for  the  ecclesiastical  authorities  and 
so  he  spent  a  quarter  of  a  century  in  Neapolitan  dungeons  froo 
which  he  was  liberated  only  to  die. 

The  greatest  and  most  fundamental  force  in  the  movemeoi 
of  life  that  we  call  the  Renaissance  was  the  revival  and  intenafi- 
cation  of   individuality.    In  the  writings  of   'KftrhtA   p^ygiign^^ 
(1533-^2),  Seigneur  de  Montaigne,  the  autonomy  of  the  humag 


THE  REPUBLIC  OF  LETTERS  529 


rcas<m,  the  Eospei  of  the  freedom  and  self-sufficiency  of  the 
indiviaaaL^nnds  Its  most  impressive  utterance.  All  through  the 
long  tunnoil  of  the  civil  and  religious  wars  of  France  he  lived  *••*••• 
in  his  chateau,  writing  at  his  ease,  up  in  the  third  story  of  the 
tower,  those  inimitable  essays  that  win  so  readily  not  only  the 
interest  but  also  the  affection  of  the  reader.  He  may  be  said  to 
have  been  the  originator  of  the  essay,  and  he  it  was  who  first 
|-^y>1pr|  the  real  power  of  French  pj-gge.  His  essays  give  the 
impression  at  first  oi  Demg  the  careless  compositions  of  a  pro- 
found but  random  thinker.  And  his  own  description  of  him- 
self as  a  nouveUe  figure,  un  phUosophe  imprimiditi  et  fortuit, 
accords  with  that  impression.  But  his  neatly  poised  sentences 
are  not  the  accidents  of  a  moment.  He  had  read  widely  and 
systematically  in  the  philosophers  of  antiquity,  he  was  gifted  with 
a  keen  insight  into  human  nature,  his  ideas  of  life  were  oigan- 
ically  arranged  and  articulated  and  he  expended  no  small  amount 
of  toil  in  the  expression  of  what  he  had  to  say  to  men.  From 
the  Roman  stoics  he  inherited  the  idea  that  a  single  law  gov- 
erns the  universe,  the  law  of  nature,  which  includes  in  its  do- 
minion both  the  human  and  the  divine.  Wisdom,  tliprefnr^ 
consists  in  living  one's  life  in  accof'Janr^  ^^^^^  ^^\^  ^^y  It  is 
a  law  tiiat  permits  the  widest  emancipation  of  the  individual. 
The  literature  of  the  revival  and  development  of  individuality 
increased  greatly  during  the  sixteenth  century,  and  in  the  sev- 
enteenth it  became  a  stream  of  amazing  breadth.  But  in  one 
sense  it  found  its  culmination  in  the  essays  of  Montaigne  who 
held  that  all  the  inclinations  and  passions  of  man  can  be  con- 
trolled and  directed  by  the  inherent  strength  of  his  will.  The 
stoic  belief  that  virtue  consists  in  living  according  to  nature  is 
the  central  idea  of  his  philosophy,  and  he  expressed  and  devel- 
oped it  more  simply  and  soundly  than  any  classic  writer  had 
ever  done.  ^rflfiir#>^  I|a  cai^^  actuates  us  in  the  earliest  vears  of 
our  life.    It  is  our  duty  to  listen  to  her  voice.    She  ipiides  us 

bv  the  impulse  to  seek  joy.      The  Da5^<^innQ  ar#>  q   iPgitimatP  part 

9f  any  sound  life.  Witliout  them  a  human  soul  would  be  as 
motionless  as  a  ship  upon  a  windless  sea.  All  this  is  very  far 
away  from  the  lingering  metaphysics  of  the  Middle  Ages  and 
the  ecclesiastical  dogmas  of  the  contemporary  time.  Montaigne 
has  been  described  as  jyenrially  a  skeptic.  The  description  is 
imjust.  He  certainly  was  skef>ticM  towards  the  metaphysics  and 
the  theologies  of  his  age.  But  his  assertion  of  the  rational  and 
moral  autonomy  of  man  is  the  very  antithesis  of  the  point  of 
view  of  one  whose  general  attitude  towards  life  is  skeptical.  In 
ffais  cardinal  principle  of  his  philosophy  he  gives  expression  to 


530 


THE  CATHOLIC  REFORMATION 


OBAP. 


lMS-98 


FrandB 
Baoos 


the  entire  humanistic  sentiment  of  the  age  which  reached  its 
zenith  in  the  second  half  of  the  sixteenth  century.     Yet  tbrt 
is  much  in  his  writings,  the  imperturbable  and  unaffected  jaie  di 
vivre,  the  happy  combination  of  a  clear  intellect  and  a  cheerful 
heart,  of  his  own  individuality  and  of  the  spirits  of  the  Freodi 
nation.    He  was  at  one  with  the  stoics  of  old  in  preferring  to 
the  feeling  of  compassion  the  vigorous,  joyous,   and   fearless 
emotions.    Regret  and  remorse  he  repudiated  because  the  past 
has  become  a  part  of  the  general  cohesion  of  the  universe.    But 
he  differed  from  the  stoics  in  finding  the  general  law  of  tiie 
universe  not  in  abstract  principles,  which  he  always  r^^ded  with 
suspicion,  but  in  the  harmony  of  our  aims  with  the  universe 
and  their  consequent  regulation.    Man  should  seek  to  live  ac- 
cording to  the  universal  law  of  nature,  to  preserve  himself  n5 
danger^  to  fill  his  life  with  iov.  to  regulate  ms  passions  in  tfadr 
early  stages  while  they  are  yet  amenable  to  discipline,  to  shon 
melancholy,  to  heiyhtpn  surji  gratihcahons  as  he  permits  tiunscir 
by  thorougnly  chewing  and  digesting  them,  and  never  to  aJW 
any  sentiment  or  passion  to  take  complete  possession  of  tm^ 
One  may  treasure  health,  wife,  children,  and  wealth,  but  one" 
must  preserve  an  mner  chamber  tor  oneself  into  whicji  ^^  rat^ 
fetlre   with  a  sense  of  perfect  freedom.    *^The  happiness  of 
lif  e,^'  he  said,  '"  depends  upon  the  tranquility  and  contentment  of 
a  well-disciplined  spirit,  upon  an  inflexible  will  in  a  well-rcgo- 
lated  soul."    He  was  a  follower  of  Socrates  and  Seneca;  but, 
because  it  was  more  far-reaching  and  touched  to  finer  issues 
than  that  of  the  ancients,  his  assertion  of  the  autonomy  of  die 
individual  made  him  the  precursor  of  Descartes. 

The  moral  autonomy  of  man,  the  ability  of  man  to  reguiztt 
the  proper  conduct  of  his  own  life,  and  the  independence  of 
such  autonomy  of  every  theology,  received  expression  at  the 
hands  of  other  thinkers.    In  the  writings   of   Francis   Bacon 
(1561-1626)  it  found  a  popular  and  powerful  exposition.    TEc" 
English  philosopher  undertook  to  win  for  man  dominion  ovcr_ 
the  world  of  nature  by  obtaining  a  complete  knowledge  of  nat* 
Ufal  Ikw.    Thus  would  ne  plUUU  111  llic  llUlids  ot  the  emand-'" 
pated  individual  a  key  that  should  unlock  every  riddle.     Human 
thought,  he  insisted,  is  creative  in  its  power ;  ,gpH  hy  X^f  pnwgg. 
oT  thp  hiimnn  will  tha  ftanprnl  inrplfare  of  man  mav  be  realJaA 
jhese^j^f^  gr^f  fofrfi<^  wniilH  Hpvpliyp  and  rcplace  thC 
warlike  and  theological  passion^  that  had  ^19^  vet  relinquished 
tj^ir  hold  upon  hundanitv.    Thus  from  a  practical  point  of  vicir 
did  he  postulate  the  moral  autonomy  of  man.    His  great  woA, 
the  /VfTTrtfiii  l^ryfT'TfffTf   is  only  a  part  of  his  vast  and  unfinished 


THE  REPUBLIC  OF  LETTERS  531 


scheme  for  reorganizing  the  sciences  and  developing  a  method     S^^* 
by  which  man  could  win  for  himself  a  complete  knowledge  of      •-— 
the  law  of  nature  and  so  direct  with  certainty  his  individual  life  ^•^••^•i* 
and  the  conduct  of  society. 

From  the  philosophers  in  the  republic  of  letters  we  now  pass 
to  the  philologians.  For  a  long  time  classical  studies  had  occu- 
pied the  front  rank  in  the  activities  of  scholars.  But  in  spite 
of  their  achievements  those  studies  gradually  lost  the  leading  TheFhit 
position  in  the  world  of  letters  and  underwent  a  transformation,  ^^i*"* 
They  became  changed  from  humanism,  which  sought  in  the 
literature  of  antiquity  the  classical  ideal  of  life,  into  philology. 
the  new-bom  scienrp  ^f  wnrHg  This  change  was  accomplished 
most  dggi><v^lY  ^"  TTr^iion/4  where  Huguenot  scholars  devoted 
themselves  to  philological  studies  with  much  zeal.  But  with 
this  metamorphosis  of  the  old  humanism  the  servile  imitation 
of  the  styles  of  classic  authors,  which  was  exemplified  by  the 
Ciceronians,  passed  into  the  background  and  was  replaced  by 
aq  eff9rt  to  understand  correctly  the  subject-matter  of  the  an- 
cient writers  and  to  appropriate  their  cuitiiffi[  The  philology 
of  the  second  half  of  the  sixteenth  century,  then,  had  for  jj^s 
aim  intemretatint^  It  was  from  this  fact  that  it  derived  its 
value.    ^yjJmnusTumjJyi^^  was  a  French  scholar 

taueht  in  the  University  of  Toulouse  and  who  then  went       " 


who  taught  in  the  University 
to  Paris  where  he  devoted  himself  to  textual  criticism  of  Greek 
litf^ptiif^,  JTp  wrote  philoloeical  commentaries  on  iEschyluSt 
Sophocles,  and  other  Greek  authors,  and  made  translations  of 
^yy^yai  RrA^ir  nyriti'ngc  \n\n  T  ^tin  ftnd  Frcuch.    Courad  CJesncr 

(im6-6c;).  of  Ziirich.^  compiled  a  biographical  ai 
ical  dictionary  of  all  the  writers  in  Greek,  Latin  and  Hebrew 
whose  works  were  known  to  him,  he  also  made  a  dictionary 
!fl1  and  proper  namefi.  and  made  the  first  attempt  towards 
comparative  study  of  language.  !^Jar^Antoin|^Mure^^yj2^ 
85),  better  known  asMuretus,  was  ^^^^tTren^r^hiiol^an 
who,  in  spite  of  a  bad  character,  raised  himself  merely  bv  writ- 
ing good  Latin  from  poverty  almost  to  the  cardinal's  purple. 
Hlfi  T"^^^^i^^i«^  poH<>*i/^^e  ^n/^v.o^fP^  PY<*rv  e^k^j  One  of  the  Cicero- 
nians  who  replied  to  the  criticisms  of  Erasmus  was  Julius^Caesar 
(1484-1558),  an  Italian  who  went  to  live  in  France^ 
It  wrote  a  book  on  the  principles  of  the  Latin  language  and 
another  in  which,  almost  for  the  farst  tune  m  the  modern  era, 
an  attempt  was  made  to  deal  with  the  art  of  poetry  in  a  sys- 
♦gjifltir  wAv^  Jlis  son,  j'ongh^^liger  (1540-1^09;,  the  forg* 
most  scholar  of  his  age.  «ter  making  progress  in  textual  crit^' 
lasm,  measuring  out  the  boundanes  of  the  science  and  estab- 


53*  THE  CATHOLIC  REFORMATION 

^S^     lishing  its  method,  devoted  himself  to  the  study  of  anAnt  jy, 

tory  and  the  subject-matter  of  classical  writings.     He  was  a 

^^•■"**  gfeat  than  wll6  studied  life  as  weU  as  literature.  ''  He  did  not 
beat  about  the  bush  like  the  rest,"  said  one  of  his  students  at 
Geneva  where  for  a  time  he  lectured,  ''but  explained  hb  au- 
thor/' When  he  undertook  the  study  of  ancient  histoiy  he  was 
the  first  modem  scholar  to  venture  into  that  field  and  it  was 
not  until  the  nineteenth  century  that  he  found  his  first  follower. 
In  his  time  nothing  was  known  of  the  civilizations  beyond  dot 
of  Greece.  The  Hebrew,  the  Syrian,  the  Egyptian  and  other 
early  civilizations  were  unknown  or  ignored.  Indeed  the  stii^ 
of  ancient  history  was  discountenanced  by  the  principle  of  Plot- 
estant  ex^^esis  that  secular  history  should  have  no  place  in  the 
interpretation  of  the  Bible.  But  as  Scaliger  put  aside  the  dil- 
ettantism of  the  Ciceronians,  so  did  he  go  beyond  the  narnnr 
limits  of  the  sectarians  and  set  himself  to  travel  along  the  road 
to  truth.  For  thirty  years  he  carn<^  q^  hjg  g»^<^^*>«  ^  tha  imlin 
of  the  religious  wars  m  l«rance^  'then  he  went  to  the  University 
oi  Leyfleuy  wnere  he  was  held  in  the  highest  esteem,  and  with 
*  flUU  RiTook  to  its  new  home  in  Holland  the  unfolding  sdenoe 
of  philology.  Fourteen  years  before  Scaliger  went  to  the  newlf* 
founded  university  another  great  Latin  sdiolar,  Justus 
( 1 547-1606),  had  taken  up  his  residence  there,  mx^^TSm 
however,  twelve  years  later  to  be  received  again  into  the  Cadh 
olic  fold.  He  was  especially  skilled  in  textual  criticisn^^and  in-^ 
terpretation  and  his  masterpiece  is  an  edition  of  'Tacitus  which*' 
is  based  ujpon  a  very  thorough  knowledge  of  Roman  iiistoiy. 
Isaac  Casaubou  (1559-1614),  the  child  of  a  Huguenot  pastor 
who  ha(nieQto  Geneva,  was  compelled  to  pursue  his  dassSl 
studies  in  that  city  where  literary  interest  had  become  almost 
extinct.  But  he  corresponded  with  other  scholars  and  when 
Scaliger  died  he  wrote  of  him  as  ''  the  sweet  patron  "  of  his  life. 
When  the  religious  wars  in  France-  drew  to  their  close  he  went 
to  lecture  on  classical  literature  and  history  at  Montpellier  and 
afterwards  at  Paris.  After  the  assassination  of  Henry  IV  he 
went  to  Enyl^n<j,  He  edWeA  a  nnmhcr  ^^  /'laceS/^ol  ^t,»k/^«p 
and  he  lives  for  later  centuries  in  his  "  Lett^r^/*  and  in  ^  j^p^ 
that  he  wrote  in  Latin. 

We  have  seen  something  of  the  part  played  by  the  publishers 

in  the  creation  of  the  republic  of  letters.    We  have  now  to 

Th«  deal  with  the  activity  of  the  leading  printer-publishers  in  the 

SSSS'^Tf   '^^^^^n^  world.    A  pfint^^  in  the  5^^;»^eenth  centurv  was  of  neccsi, 

sity  a  scholar,  his  business  was  recognized  as  a  learned  profes- 

sion.    in  our  own  times  the  combination  of  the  scholar  and 


THE  REPUBLIC  OF  LETTERS 


■  *ith  the  practical  printer  is  comparatively  rare.    A  print- 
^ablishiqeqt  in  the  era  of  which  we  write  was  like  alittre^ 
^Cjif  learned  jpen.     It  was  able  to  direct  and  to  assbt  in 
^Ork  of  literary  production  as  well  as  to  perform  the  me- 
•^Jiit  VL^*  details  of  the  press.    Such  an  establishment  was  that 
[  ^'j^^e  Flit'*'""'''  which  was  founded  by  ^^Bn  fis^jfinil'' f  ?-"i^"^ 
'  -'-     His  son  Robert  Estienne  ,(i';o^-'^ci^  was  himself  the 


V^^Qfeor  of  a  Latjn  Hirtinnarjj  that  greatly  surpassed  any  of  its 
'7''^'^^30'"s.  Becoming  involved  in  theological  disputes  with 
2*  Sorbonne  he  fled  to  Geneva:  and  so  there  came  to  be  two 
enne  oressfs.  one  m  the  capital  of  France  and  the  other  in 
lapital  of  Calvinism,  each  sending  forth  books  simultaneously. 
!  of  the  biblical  writings  constitute  his  most  important 
They  are  of  great  typographical  beauty,  being  printed 
:  most  perfect  and  beautiful  of  all  Greek  types ;  and  he  was 
:  to  print  the  New  Testament  with  an  accompanying  crit- 
When  Robert  went  to  Geneva  the  pnnting  estab- 
I  Paris  was  carried  on  by  his  brother,  f^harlpg  FcHpnng 
JlSOd.?-6),  who  in  his  turn  as  a  printer,  was  succeeded  by  Kod- 
.  eldest  son,  flenri  RsHfi^ne  (1531-98),  the  greatest  scholar, 
■  family.  I  h'i"iprftnd  Hpnri  continued  the  press  at  Geneva. 
I  has  the  cause  of  learning  had  a  more  devoted  promoter. 
:  more  than  a  generation  he  lajinrpH  at  atnlifjr,  ^^jt^r,  a^fl 
'  T  and  gave  to  the  world  an  enormous  mass  of  work.  Some 
[^  of  his  views  were  objectionable  to  the  Genevan  consistory,  and 
■o  he  became  a  wanderer.  Because  of  his  poverty  he  was  un- 
able to  use  the  best  paper  and  ink  and  so  't^'  k^h^j-  ^^t  ui„  1^.^1-1^ 
»  due  to  the  ^pe.  But  it  is  for  their  scholarship  rather  than 
tbeir  appearance  that  his  productions  are  noted.  His  principal 
works  are  a  jTrwlff  ^^'^'"^"^'y  ""^  a"  -^/.^//-pj.  frr  ^ttndnttu 
In  the  Nctbsclm^.  ^°°*  ^^^''^  printing  had  been  invented,  the 
art  was  carried  to  a  high  degree  of  perfection.  One  of  the  most 
famous  presses  was  that  of  £]}agtQBlit.£laalia^  1514-89),  a 
Frenchman  who  settled  in  Antwerp.  ?Jid  whose  books  are  f^uoMs 
for  thwr  hpaijihY  a"H  arniraj-y  But  more  noted  was  the  press 
of  the  Elzevirs,  founded  in  Leyden  by  Louis  Elzevir  (1540- 
1617)  and  continued  by  his  sons,  the  most  important  products 
of  which  appeared  in  the  seventeenth  century. 

The  jurists,  too,  had  their  place  in  the  republic  of  letters 
The  scholars  of  the  Renaissance  had  discovered  the  true  text  I 
of  Justinian's  codification  of  the  old  Roman  law ;  and  even  be-  \ 
ion  that  the  study  of  the  civil  law  of  the  Rmnans  had  begun  ' 
to  curtail  the  wide  preieniions  ot  the  canon  law  of  the  Middle 
Ages  and  to  reduce  tba  Oiurd^  nnf  mirelv  ty  a  condition  of 


534 


THE  CATHOLIC  REFORMATION 


OHAP. 


lS76-ie00 


Jnzista 


^ 


equality  with  the  State  but  to  one  that  was  distinctly  su^ftrflJTBtfi 
Hfrr  thi^  rfn'irr"  t*^^  ^"^gt'it'i  fi^a  r>een  encouraged  by  tho^^  Ifwip 
wlio,  like  Philip  IV,  of  France,  were  bent  upon  incr^niny  tlW 
power  at  the  expense  of  th;|^t  Qf  the  egcl^siasrics-  Th<>  evident 
superiority  of  the  Roman  law  to  the  common  law  and  to  feudal 
custom  was  another  ^^^^^^  ^'"  ^^<"  Tt^  with  whicn  men  started 
to  study  it  anew.  So  the  Roman  law  made  encroachments  upoo 
tne  mdigenous  law  of  France,  Germany,  the  Netherlands  aod 
Spain.    The  primacy  of  then^^gy  aa  a  study  in  the  universities 


of  those  countries  was  displaced  bv  jurisprudence.  Bourgeois 
and  even  peasant  students  who  fitted  tnemselves  for  the  work 
of  jurists  found  important  positions  in  the  judicial,  administra- 
tive, and  legislative  work  of  their  countries.  In  Fraprr  a  new 
nobility,  that  of  the  roby^  came  into  existence,  obtained  many 
privil^es,  and  succeeded  in  making  it^^^f  hfrPf1i^'"T  In  Spain, 
too,  the  entire  class  of  municipal  and  State  officials  got  itself  en- 
nobled. The  jurists  wrested  for  their  profession  the  place  of 
pride  which  the  ecclesiastics  had  held  for  so  many  centuries. 
A  better  interpretation  of  the  Roman  law  was  gradually  devd- 
oped.  AnHrp^  ^Iriati  ^rT>j^-a-Tc;^n^^  an  Italian  scholar  who  en- 
joyed tlie  patronage  of  Francis  I  and  taught  at  Rftiifyq^  ipa< 
the  leader  in  the  reformation  of  jurisprudence  in  pr^nry  He 
employed  history,  the  classical  languages,  and  literature  in  the 
exposition  of  the  civil  law,  and  he  made  the  teaching^  of  kw 
^mething^  of  a  science.     The  new  jurisprudence  also  found  its 

wav    intp    tl^p    nniyfi-ci'fiVc    of   rirlA^pg     Pnjj^iVrQ     Rrtr/^^a^iy^  pnA 

Toulouse.  At  Toulouse,  however,  the  citadel  of  medieval  juris- 
prudence, J^nlde  Boyssone,  a  fine  scholar  whose  name  has 
slipped  out  o7  the  pagcg  Of  BTstory,  found  grave  obstacles  in  his 
way.  Yet  he  succeeded  in  getting  rid  of  the  medieval  impedi- 
ment to  the  proper  study  of  the  Roman  law.  Other  such  teach- 
ers were  Andre  de  Govea  fJ4Q7-i«;48)  at  Bordeaux  |  Fj^afipis 

held  a  professorship  at  Bourges :  Fran- 
^1520-73 ),  who  taupht  at  Fans  ^an^ 


Ranrift»ia 


Itrasbuig; 


ques  de  Cujas  (it^ao-Qo).  who,  by  ignoring  the  incompetent 
commentators  upon  Roman  law  and  devoting  his  attention  to 
the  law  itself,  gained  a  European  reputation  as  a  teacher  in 
various  Frencn  universities;  Francois  Hotman  (1524-90),  who 

whose  espousal  of  the 

from  plar^  to  p^^r^ ;  and  Hugo  Donellus 

^eatest  jurists  of  f^^  ^pftCl^ 

Still  another  group  of  scholars  in  the  republic  of  letters  was 

that   of   thi>   piihliric;t«;.   thy   pi^^    who  wrn|fi   ^ip^^    "^tJOnal   H 


THE  REPUBLIC  OF  LETTERS  535 

intemational  law.    The  Protestant  Revolution  had  given  rise     SE^* 

to  new  politicaithought.    In  the  opening  years  of  the  movement      

the  question  whether,  because  of  religious  opinion,  extreme  op-  ^••^**'^ 
pression  by  the  State  might  be  resisted  by  force  had  become  a 
burning  one.  Luther  held  that  every  civil  authority  had  a  ^^^ 
daim  to  unconditional  obedience.  He  was  temperamentally  pre- 
disposed in  favor  of  the  established  secular  authority  no  matter 
how  it  had  come  into  power.  Tyranny,  he  declared,  should  be 
endured  as  a  divine  punishment  of  the  sins  of  men.  But  it  is 
difficult  if  not  impossible  to  harmonize  all  of  Luther's  views. 
and  it  may  be  deducted  from  his  writings  that  a^sQQtcactjesists 
between  the  prince  anf^  ^^*^  ^'"^j^f^  ft"d  that  the  people  possess 
the  right  f^  rpgi^t  npprPQsinn.  Calviyi.  whp  also  preached  the 
doctrine  of  patient  obedience  to  tEe  magistrate,  spoke  very  cau- 
tiously 01  resistance  to  godless  attempts  on  tne  part  of  the  ruler. 
But  tihe  circumstances  of  the  time  proved  too  strong  for  the 
temperamental  preferences  of  the  leading  reformers.  The  cen- 
tury and  a  half  that  immediately  followed  the  outbreak  of  the 
great  revolt  from  Rome  proved  to  be  an  extraordinary  fertile 
and  determinative  period  in  the  field  of  political  thought.  To 
the  conclusions  of  the  ancient  world  and  those  of  the  Middle 
Ages  it  added  its  own.  So,  with  all  their  dislike  of  democracy, 
the  reformers  indirectly  gave  impetus  to  a  movement  very  closely 
identified  with  representative  and  republican  ideas.  Humanism 
also  contributed  something  to  the  new  political  thought  of  the 
time.  It  furnished  critical  comparisons  of  the  contemporary 
with  the  classical  world  in  which  the  freedom  of  the  latter  was 
extolled.  Erasmus  wrote  on  the  folly  of  hereditary  monarchy 
and  the  advantages  of  representative  institutions;  and  in  the 
writings  of  Sir  Thomas  More  the  idea  of  the  equality  of  all 
citizens  before  the  law  is  a  basic  principle.  Thus  there  was 
formed  a  common  opinion,  of  varied  origin,  opposed  to  the  in- 
creasing absolutism  of  the  time.  In  his  DiscnU£SuUJa.S£ndlud£i 
vohntaire.  Stienne  de  la  Boetie  f  m.'^o-^.^)  pr^t^^^^  v^iHiy 
fgainct  th<>  nfnl[|g[|pg5SftheQ^^  gave  US  all  the  same 

form  and  the  whole  earth  to  inhabit  in  common  and  thus  quar- 
tered us  in  the  same  house,''  he  said ;  ^*  it  is  impossible  to  doubt 
that  we  are  all  free  by  nature ;  it  is  inconceivable  that  nature  in- 
tended any  of  us  to  be  slaves."    Even  more  outspoken  and  cer- 
tainly more  original  is  the  Franco-GaUia  of  Francois  H< 
(1524-90),  a  work  so  far  in  adVSince  OT^sl^etliat  li  was  looi 
upon  with  disfavor  pot  only  by  the  Catholics  but  also  by  fh^  » 
Huguenots  in  whose  behalf  it  was  written.    Yet  it  was  widely 
reao.    Driven  from  France  by  the  Massacre  of  St  Bartholomew, 


m 


S3S 


Hotman  attempted  to  prove  by  history  that  the  Fr^f^j^  lagn. 

arrhy  wag-limirprl  hy  the  peqple  antj  the  Estates  and  that  a  COfr 

'    stitutinn    wa&— legally    e-^rahli-^hpi1.     The   penplf,    hp    h<-lfi,   vgt 

jujttified   in  rtfhftlljng  mhi-rn-vpr  ffip  (^ntrart  bctwecn  them  and 

tJiP    prijlr*'    was    vJnlatpH    liy-lhi^    t-yranTJjTT^  tfjp   1f|tt<T.       Ifl    the 

nay  (1549-1623),  the  development  of  tnoderi 
was  continued.  The  pf>Tl■^^,i^^l^^pnal  contract,  it  ho^iif,  fc  «>"■  «J* 
Bource  of  political  y^ni?aii^n  ^^/^  ^f  iiur  Rebellion  jg  ji^sf^ 
fled  whenever  oppression  results  from  the  violation  of  the  cop^ 

tract    ''y   ^^^    """"■'    '  nnwn    tn    tht-    Vrfm-U    Rpvnliitifin    fhi.    {Hm" 

expressed  with  great  force  and  eloquence  in  this  boc^  of  dis- 
puted authorship  that  was  "  fitted  by  its  very  faults  to  become 
the  text-book  of  ordinary  men,"  served  as  the  basis  of  every 
theoretical  and  practical  attempt  to  reform  the  political  organiza- 
tion of  the  modem  States.  The  Knglishman  To^in  Potoci^ 
(l5i4?-56),  or  Ponet,  bishop  of  Winchester,  was  one  of  ihe 
first  modem  advocates  of  the  jii^tifiahility  nf  lyrannirit^f^  The 
?jmt{[j^h  hiimankUlf"'-"-'-  rt.t.-iianm  )^■g^■^w«-^^  who  spent  much 
of  his  life  in  France,  and  who  there  embraced  Calvinism,  also 
proclaimed  the  doctrine  that  •'1'  pp''H>'''  p"'vpr  emanates  from 


Jhp  pp^nlp-  that  every  monarchy  is  limited  by  the  contract  under 
which  it  was  established,  and  that  the  punishment  of  tyranny 
is  permissible.  When  Henry  of  Navarre  became  the  heir-pre- 
jtumprive  to  the  throne  otTttace  ttie  acme  wa«  anddenlr  dugfiel 
'llie  Huguenots  now  became  the  advtxates  of  leptnmm  utd 
the  Jesuit  theorists  and  those  of  the  Catholic  League  becune  the 
champions  of  the  doctrine  of  resistance  and  tyrannidde^  Aod 
the  Catholic  publicists,  as  befitted  "  tiie  party  of  the  Ptrii  mob^' 


putdid  thi^ir  Vrntj-ttanf  pr^ecessofs  anid  conte 


democratic  tendency  of  their  vnyingTi  *"""''  *^»  fT*^*  nia»  of 
pamphlets  to  which  t^e  t^rench  wars  of  religion  gave  rise  Urn 
Satire  Mfjtfpp^  Cicn^-tfA^.  wnttea  by  aeveral  conah^rgly  no 

etn^  rtt  vihnm  uraa  an  giifhnr  n4  iTnpnrtann',  mtanA*  pirjmiilpwt 
It  tH  a  hiir1pL<tf]iiif  ^fcniint  n(  th>  p«jg^in(f  nf  ¥hr  ^tfit^^.JTii— t 

that  met  m  1593  for  the  purpose  of  fullering  the  alms  of  the 
League.  Its  biting  satire  upon  the  evils  of  the  time,  iti  expo- 
sition of  the  wroti^Kloings  of  the  chief  members  of  the  Leagne, 
and  its  conchiding  speech  of  noble  eloquence,  lead  us  to  bdim 
that  its  contemporaries  were  right  when  thqr  said  tiiat  it  did 
more  for  Hcnty  IV  than  all  the  other  writingi  on  his  behalf. 
In  the  midst  of  all  the  opposing  and  strug^tug  tendencies  of 
tfie  time  there  appeared ^at^odi|L(  1530-96)  who  wjrti  f^nKJUf 
and  Hobbea  creatt^  ^  ^gjpff^SBgai  M^i-nrft    And  the  gaa^ 


THE  REPUBUC  OF  LETTERS 


537 


of  the  three  was  undoubtedly  Bodin.    In  his  Jgg* 
advocates  with  great  learning  and  vigorotis  thought 

nf  nti  ihgnliita  mnnnrrly  that  shall  r^fipfrt  fn^gpi    "•••^••O 

ice  and  strive  to  realize  the  welfare  of  the  entire  com- 

not  any  form  of  a  monarchy  but  one  in  which  the  peo- 

the  laws  of  the  ruler  and  the  ruler  obevs  the  laws  of 

€i<  nature  thg  people  ari>  rpleas^r^    ir^^  thi>   Hiity  nf  nh^Hii^nr^, 

Bodin  lived  in  the  commtmion  of  the  Catholic  Church  and  he 
was  attached  to  the  court  party.  So  doubtless  his  advocacy  of 
a  monarchy  limited  only  by  the  laws  of  nature  was  put  forward 
in  opposition  to  the  anti-monarchical  ideas  of  the  Huguenots. 
The  germs  of  much  of  the  subsequent  development  of  political 
adence  are  to  be  found  in  his  work.  Far  more  important  than 
his  oondusions  was  the  scientific  method  he  employed  in  arriv- 
ing at  them.    The  last  of  the  publicists  whom  we  shall  notice 

is  fiuduyQLriQ&SHSE   (^SS3?~^^)»  whose  Laws  of  Ecclesias- 
Hc^ToMVf^wml^^  clear  and  attractive  style,  did  much  to  rev^ 
the  latent  power  of  English  prose.    The  book  was  designed  to--^ 
refute  the  attacks  of  the  Puritans  upon  the  customs  and  polity 
the  AhSllcan  dhurcn,  but  its  chief  interest  to-day  lies  not 


so  much  in  its  theological  discussions  as  in  '^^^  phJlftSftph^^^^  ^V*^ 
political  thought:  in  its  exposition  of  the  unity  and  compre- 
liensive  character  of  law, "  whose  seat  is  the  bosom  of  God,  whose 
voice  is  the  harmony  of  the  world/'  whose  operation  determines 
the  life  of  the  individual,  the  organization  of  society,  the  conduct 
of  the  State,  and,  indeed,  all  the  phenomena  of  nature.  Law>^ 
he  held,  is  of  two  kinds:  —  natural  law,  yhich  is  ptpmal  an#^ 
unchanging;  and  positive  law^  y^hich  varies  according  to  cir- 
oimstanceL  it  is  upon  laws  of  the  latter  class  that,  applied  with 
reason  and  the  light  of  experience,  all  governments  are  based. 

die  governed^,  piven  either  directly  by  those  who  are  at  the 
time  being  governed,  or  indirectly  by  their  ancestors.  Thus  did 
the  gentle  and  gracious  priest  picture  the  universality  of  law. 
Much  of  his  thought  has  lost  the  approbation  of  men,  but  his 
latent  idea  that  government  derives  its  sanction  from  the  gov- 
erned has  dcvdoptd  into  the  fundamental  principle  of  democ- 
racy.  ''''^ 

Closely  connected  with  the  publicists   were  the  historians.    *| 
The  writing  of  history  had  been  undergoing  a  gradual  develop-     ^' 
ment,  though  by  no  means  a  steady  one,  ever  since  the  days  of 
the  dender  annalists  of  the  early  Middle  Ages.    The  Renaisr 
we  have  seen  in  our  study  of  Machiavdli  and  Guic- 


538 


THE  CATHOUC  REFORMATION 


ciardini,  gave  a  distinct  impetus  to  historiography,      

examplcrul  iliSloiy  writing  were  recovered^ ^tcrest  in  the  hfr 


the  spirit  and  method  ajid  appafptug  nf  rritirigtw  w<*rt>  all  ^ 

Veloped,    the    SP|]Q^    ^f    Ti'tfipry    ctyl^    h^am^    Ir^^^m^     ^p^    «n-^ 

general,  and  the  invention  of  printing  was  an  enormous  advan- 
tage both  to  the  historian  and  to  his  readers.  The  revival  of 
individuality,  the  fundamental  factor  of  the  entire  Renaissance 
movement,  gave  rise  to  munerous  biographical  and  auto-bio- 
graphical  writings;  and  the  revival  of  nationality  was  the  came 
of  many  an  attempt  to  wg^fi  a  nafionai  mcr/^jy'  i  hen  cuat 
the  I'rotestant  Revolution  and  the  answering  outburst  of  militant 
Catholicism  to  give  a  special  impulse  to  the  activity  of  his- 
torians. The  new  theologies  had  to  justify  themselves  historic* 
ally;  and,  on  the  other  nana,  tnelr  histoncal  cJaims  had  to  1^ 
retuted.    InTiermanvy  the  most  notable  historian  was  John  Skir 


^^^_^^_  'rmany. 

dan  {i.'i06-j;6).  consaentious  and  cautious  annalist  o] 

Hgfeus  revolution,  whose  great  work,  containing  many  important 
documents,  remams  one  of  the  most  valuable  of  the  contemporary 
histories  of  its  times.  The  writers  of  the  Mogi^tMiLJjBt 
furies,  of  whom  the  principal  one  was  |^|^ya&JQgglUp»gave 
to  the  world  (1559-74)  tti^  firct  c*^^"^^^^g?^^|^flnm?'^ 
written  from  a  Pro^«stant  point  of  view,  The  reproach  of 
revolutionary  innovation  made  against  the  Protestants  turned 
the  attention  of  Flacius  and  his  collaborators  to  the  past  The 
centuriators  endeavored  to  gather  for  the  overthrow  of  the 
Catholic  claims  documentary  proof  of  alterations  that  had  been 
made  in  doctrine,  ceremonies,  and  ecclesiastical  polity.  Written 
in  the  midst  of  the  bitter  controversies  of  the  time  the  Centuries 
is  nevertheless  a  scholarly  work  and  it  has  been  called  "  the  first 
monument  of  modern  historical  research."  With  far  greater 
resources  at  his  command  ^^^^^^j^J^j^sj^ij^^ggBi^  (i^jl^iGoy) 
the  rVij^f  nf  tVip  V?ti\f^n  library,  and  the  little  armv  of  scholars 
in  the  libraries  of  many  lands  whom  he  was  able  by  his  position 
to  summon  to  his  assistance,  began  a  work  in  reolv  that  took 
forty  years  to  complete.  The  work  of  Baronius  is  defective, 
yet  it  greatly  excelled  any  previous  similar  attempt.  Such  work 
as  that  of  the  centuriators  and  the  librarian  of  the  Vatican  ^^aiL 


an  avowedly  polanical  purposp;  pfvertli<^1p;<^ff  the 

rp«^|>prrViPQ  ffiaf  if  ^ntailpH  hnr^  fruit  in  the  rlpvplnpmen^  9Jf  hiS'~ 

torisaL-izie^hfidL*.  The  necessity  of  consulting  original  sources 
gradually  became  evident.  Collections  of  sources  were  made 
by  a  number  of  scholars.  The  History  of  the  Council  of 
Trent  is  the  most  important  work  of  FVa  Pffflo  Saroi  (i^Ki-^ 


THE  REPUBLIC  OF  LETTERS  539 


US6-1«S4 


1603)  whom  Gibbon  called  an  "'  incomparable  historian/'  It  is  ^^' 
'  lafoi'iued  by  an  undying  hatred  of  the  Papacy  of  his  time,  but  it 
Jb  notably  accurate  in  detail  and  is  brilliantly  written.  The  con- 
adeotious  and  reliable  work  of  Cprn|]j^rw|p^j|yjjta  (rgi^a-i^^^ 
as  the  official  historian  of  Aragon.  stiu  nas  its  worth  for  the 
student  ot  ^pamsh  history.  Also  important  is  the  work  of  an- 
other Spanish  writer,  the  Jf  gnit  TnaiLdsMariana  (1536-1624), 
deemed  in  his  own  time  and  counff^^WtBe* prince  of  his- 
torians.'' His  work  has  been  described  in  a  later  century  by 
Ticknor,  the  historian  of  Spanish  literature,  as  being  "  the  most 
remarkable  union  of  picturesque  chronicling  with  sober  history 
Alt  world  has  ever  seen."  The  merit  of  his  style  is  beyond 
question,  and  his  work,  although  it  is  defective  and  is  not  notable 
for  critical  sifting  or  analyzing  of  sources>,is  not  without  a  con- 
^H^f "^^^  dfC**^  ^^  Q/^z-iirary  at^fj  p#>nctration.  In  France  where 
Gonstitutionsd  law  rather  than  theology  engaged— tlm  ■attention 
of  the  historians,X]gud^£audb£t  (1530-1601)  made  ipesearchea. 

fii  t[^#>  history  of  frg  f  rank*;  dnwf^  tn  thi>  hpginning  ni  fh^  rap#>- 

f||p  fJYifagfy  in  which  is  displayed  a  mature  and  systematic  mind. 
A  far  greater  historian  ^"o^  jo/^g^pe  a^  ^^1  (1553-1617)  who 
iiqflp'tyQif  tn  writ^  a  hifit^^T  Q^  ^^^  ^^"  times.  His  history, 
which  deals  with  events  from  1546  to  1607,  consists  of  five- 
parts.  The  fact  that  it  is  written  in  Latin  shows  that  French 
had  not  yet  won  complete  acceptance  as  a  language  fitted  for  a 
learned  work.  In  the  matter  of  style  he  was  surpassed  by 
many  of  his  fellow  countrymen  but  he  is  unequaled  in  breadth 
of  view,  ripeness  of  jud^ent  and  invincible  seftse  of  justice. 
With  few  exceptions  his  views  have  been  confirmed  by  the 
historical  research  of  our  own  time;  and  his  own  century  re- 
garded his  history,  which  is  by  no  means  narrowly  confined  to 
political  affairs,  as  something  of  a  secular  bible.    In  England 

who,  in  his  Britannia,  wrote  in  eleyant  L^tin  a  survpj  ftf  the 
British  Isles,  and  in  his  ^ff*t/i/^^,a  history  of  the  reign  of  Eliza- 
beth. Ggnrgft  RiirHangji  (1506-82),  whom  we  have  already  no- 
ticed  asT^  publicise,  gained  for_^cotIand  the  fame  of  possessing 
the  best  Latinist  in  contemporary  Europe.  His  P^r^^  .^cnti^ 
coniiff  HisfOftg,  written  to  clear  the  history  of  his  native  country 
"^  f^f  "^n^?  EPg^^h  lies  and  Scottish  vanity,  is  still  of  great  value 
for  the  history  of  Scotland  during  the  period  known  personally 
to  its  author. 

Side  by  side  with  the  historians  there  should  be  noted  the 
memoir-writers  whose  work  did  not  alwavs  rise  to  the  dignity  of 
Mitory  but  who  nevertheless  oftentimes  exhibited  attractive  lit- 


540 


THE  CATHOLIC  REFORMATION 


Uiil>  qnnlitir^  and  who  inaugurated  a  species  of  literature  in 
which  Fran(^  remains  unequaled  and,  indeed,  unapproachei 

very  early  brought  to  a  hirii  degree  of  oerfection 


their  national  art  of  writing  iTvelv  and  learned  memoirs^md  wittj 
biographical  essays  with  sharp  portrayal  of  character.  More 
than  the  men  of  any  other  country  they  seem  to  have  a  pree- 
lection for  confiding  to  print  all  they  have  seen  or  heard,  fdt 
or  thought,  dreamed  or  done.  And,  tumultuous  as  it  was,  die 
long  period  of  the  religious  wars,  so  full  of  color  and  passion, 
was  rich  in  these  chatty  and  charming  memcnrs.    A  few  of  these 

writers  we  must  stop  to  notice.    The  Comm ^^ 

de  Mogjiic  ( 1503  ?-77),  it  is  said,  was  described  by  Henry 

Tolrtirr^i  Bible/'  Whether  the  saying  attributed  to  the 
king  be  authentic  or  no,  it  is  a  fitting  description  of  this  engag- 
ing book  which  is  generally  acknowledged  to  be  superior  to  il 
other  similar  works  of  the  time.  A^nnlyf;  yas  a  true 
Ferocious  and  fanatical  in  the  Catholic  cause,  he  was  at  once 
vain  and  valiant,  crafty  and  impetuous.  He  saw  the  humor  of  a 
situation  or  a  sa3ang  with  unfailing  quickness ;  yet  he  was  piti- 
less in  the  w^rfarp  ^jp^p  Prntnnfnnrinm  His  mcmoirs,  dictated 
in  his  old  age,  reveal  a  ready  command  of  language  and  they 
are  full  of  vivid  passages  and  striking  images.  FogfigSSsitdl: 
^Igm^(  1 531-91)  was  ajfupitnnt  °^Hirx  whose  memoirs  are  an 
impartial  account  of  the  wars  in  which  he  participated,  who 
saw  the  humorous  side  of  life,  and  whose  style  is  virile,  dear, 
and  exact.  Pie^^^^^SII&dflU^  (i540?-i6i4),  better  known 
as  ^fan^AtYto  Kr^m  thp'oKK^y  /^f  nfiifnti  hc  was  thcJaxjtbbot,  was 

another  vivacious  reporter  of  experiences  and  persons.  ">i  his 
pages  are  reflected  the  love  o^  ^^'*^p^^y,  thr  immoraljtY,  md  ^^ 
cruelty  that  characterized  the  French  court  of  his  time.  Mur- 
der  and  adultery  are  reported  by  him  with  the  same  gusto  and 
facility  as  any  other  exciting  episode  of  the  world's  pageantry  that 
so  delighted  him.  His  range  was  limited.  Real  greatness  was 
beyond  his  understanding.  Itab^too,  made  a  notable  contribu- 
tion to  the  literature  of  reminiscence.  The  charm  of  a  natural 
language,  close  akin  to  conversation,  was  not  confined  to  France. 
The  Italian  goldsmith  and  sculptor  Benvenu^  Cellini^^g;oo-7o). 
whom  we  should  have  noticed  as  a  master  oT^Rf^raft,  wrote 
his  celebrated  autobiography  which  is  still  read  in  every  civilized 
country.  His  energetic,  egotistical,  quarrelsome  and  vindictive 
character  doubtless  made  him  unbearable  to  most  of  those  with 
whom  he  came  into  contact,  but  it  made  the  story  of  his  life 
full  of  movement  and  interest,  and  this,  combined  with  the  zest 
and  vivacity  of  the  improvised  style  and  the  passion  for  unre- 


THE  REPUBLIC  OF  LETTERS 


541 


oomiminicationy  make  the  book  one  of  absorbing  interest. 
Here»  too,  there  must  be  noticed  the  dawn  of  the  newspaper. 
Peaceful  intercourse  between  the  various  governments  had  grad-  *••••*•*• 
tuny  assumed  stable  forms.  The  papal  curia,  by  virtue  of  its 
world-wide  relations,  was  the  first  to  establish  an  elaborate  dip- 
lomatic correspondence.  The  civil  States  of  Italy,  because  of  ^^ 
Aeir  ramified  commercial  connections,  had  long  been  compelled 
to  develop  rq;ular  intercourse  with  other  powers.  With  the 
opening  of  the  sixteenth  century  Spain  and  France  began  the 
maintenance  of  permanent  embassies  at  foreign  courts.    From 

tills   collecting  of   n^y^   hy  pnlitiVianc^    "^^^^ihtin^^f    ^"^    crKnTaVft^ 

here  graduallv  devei^p^  ^^^  pir^fpcQmp  nf  jniirpaligt<^  The 
reading  public  had  greatly  increased,  people  were  eager  to  get 
the  **  latest  intelligence,''  and  the  invention  of  printing  had  made 
the  necessary  multiplication  of  copies  a  commercial  possibility. 
Ncwslxx)ks  preceded  newspapers.  It  was  probably  in  the  Neth- 
Si^i^^mJe  rlhg"*'  T  S^'  t^^t  a  continuous  series  of  news-pamphlets^^ 
which  may  be  called  the  first  newspaper,  first  started;  but  the 
firat  definite  r^lar  publication  containing  riirr<*nt  npwg^  *^^^^fid! 

To  the  poets  w^iust  now  tum'7)ur  attention.  There  were 
8tin  men  of  letters,  especially  in  Italy,  who  had  so  far  surren- 
dered themselves  to  the  study  of  antiquity  that  they  repudiated 
personal  inspiration  and  the  direct  observation  of  life  and  de- 
wited  themselves  to  the  narrating  in  Latin  verse  of  fabulous  or 
historical  subjects.  But  it  is  not  with  them  that  we  shall  spend 
our  time,  but  rather  with  those  men  who  were  able  to  put  tjhe 

life  they  knew  int^  pftf <^m^ — Such  a  man  was     

(1544-95)  the  hit  of  the  great  cycle  of  the  Italian  poets 


For  the  firstjQL-yfiaca  of  his  life  he  lived  in  the 
fairy-like  surroundings  of  the  Bay  of  Napl^^  whose  languorous 
beauty  found  a  responsive  echo  in  the  sensitive  nature  of  the 
dreamy  little  child.  There,  too,  he  heard  much  of  the  piratical 
descents  of  the  Turks  upon  the  shores  of  Italy.  His  father  w^^s 
4j20£t-and  under  his  direction  he  made  rapid  progress  in  his 
studies.  When  his  education  was  concluded  he  entered  the 
service  of  the  Cardinal  Luigi  d'Este  at  Ferrara.  And  he  was 
not  more  than  eighteen  years  of  age  when  his  Ri^^dgui^  which 
he  submitted  the  romantic  and  desultory  advenTures  of  his  hero 
to  the  rigid  rules  of  the  epic,  won  him  an  early  celebrity.  Am- 
orous Ivrics.  too,  he  wrote,  musical  and  touched  with  a  languorous 
sensuality,  limpid  and  caressing,  such  as  suited  the  taste  of  the 
courtiers  of  his  time.  Handsome  in  person,  elegant  in  manner, 
and  accomplished  in  his  profession,  he  had  become  a  general 


% 


54a  THE  CATHOUC  ItEFORUAtlON 


favimte  of  the  brifliant  court  at  FcmwL    But  Ilia  great 

woik  of  Ae 


a*story  of  true  epic  character;  and  tlie  anxieties  an^ 
by  the  encroachments  of  the  Tnrks  made  it  espedalljr  timd^ 
popular.  The  plot  is  veiy  simple^  and  it  possesses  Ibat 
and  logical  connection  of  its  conqxxient  parts  wbicli  Tasao  d 
to  be  the  first  requisite  of  an  efric  The  main  ootliiie  of  tfi^ 
story  reoJls  the  IKad.  ^<t  thc  hrillia"*'  "^f**^  of  qwaodbs  Hi» 
mind  one  of  the  Orlando  Fnfiasa.  The  romantic  and  fbitSmm^ 
cal  elemoits  are  intermingled  in  the  poem»  but  tlie  latter  is  oflMI 
submerged  by  the  former;  and  it  seems  that  a  greater  auccrti 
would  have  been  achieved  had  die  poet  abandcmed  Ua  deriss 
to  write  an  q>ic  and  confined  himself  to  a  pure  romancfe  For 
it  is  due  to  its  \yu(^^  ''**^  m«ift*iri^  ^|fyp— 1»»  t^irti^^  »fc^||  ^  a* 

epic  qtialitics  that  the  poem  retmis  its  place  in  Jbc  affectioiisdC 
all  lovers  of  Italian  literature.  Despite  passages' of  a  ao 
empty  sonorousness,  frequent  stiffness,  and  a  continued 
due  to  the  endeavor  to  attain  the  majesty  and  splendor  of  Urn 
epic,  the  Jerusalem  is  the  most  txviiy  popular  of  the  grsift 
Italian  poems.  It  is  ''pitched  in  a  lower  and  a  calmer  fcqr* 
than  the  Orlando  Furioso,  the  rich  imagination  of  AiioalD  k 
replaced  with  a  silvery  ddicaqr  of  sentiment,  but  witliin  its  ttn- 
its  it  moves  gracefully  and  with  dignity.  Its  fine  descriptioD  ttf 
battles,  its  moving  melody,  its  tender  gaiety,  its  sincere  qnot.ioii, 
its  nobility  and  above  all  its  large  humanity,  give  this  swan-song 
of  the  Italian  literature  of  its  epoch  a  permanent  human  interest 
The  story  of  TassglgJoSiUUlar  we  have  not  space  to  telL  IBs 
life  may  be  taken  as  an  exemplification  of  the  Renaissance — a 
smiling  morn,  a  golden  noon,  the  rich  glow  of  the  sunset,  and 
then  the  chill  of  the  approaching  night.  He  lived,  this  precursor 
of  modem  romanticism,  with  its  mysterious  longings  and  vague 
shudderings  at  unknown  perils,  in  the  midst  of  an  over-refined 
civilization  and  his  delicate  spirit  was  made  sick  with  all  the 
contradictions  of  the  age. 

From  the  days  of  that  memorable  invasion  of  Italy  by  Charles 
VIII  there  had  been,  it  will  be  remembered,  an  increasing  influ- 
ence of  Italian  art  and  literature  in  the  artistic  activity  of 
S^y  France.  That  influence,  however,  was,  at  this  time,  the  influ- 
ence of  an  era  that  was  passing  into  the  night,  for  that  is  the 
destiny  of  all  such  outbursts  of  the  human  spirit  as  the  Renais- 
sance. Tasso's  song  was  lonely  amid  the  host  of  men  who  strove 
to  sing  with  the  voices  of  Latin  poets  of  a  time  long  dead.  But 
this  influence  of  imitative  writers  who  were  preoccupied  with 


THE  REPUBLIC  OF  LETTERS  543 


tm 


Myle  was  not  altogether  amiss  in  the  development  of  French 
literature.  Style  was  a  quality  in  which  French  verse  was  to 
mtkm  The  proup  of  poets  who  succeeded  in  ^ving  style  to 
French  poetry  ia  knnwn  as  tVi#>  PlpiaH  It  was  not  to  Italy  alone 
tbat  they  were  indebted  for  their  lesson.  They  learned  much 
from  the  literature  of  Greece.  The  leader  of  the  group  was 
Pierre  de  Ronsard  (1^2^-8^^  and  his  associates  were  Joachim 
_  (1522-60),  Remi  ^^le^M  (i526?-77),  Tfnn  A*yMfl!e 

( 1532-89),  J^^^SM^SOi?-S8)»  Pontius jie  '{lyard 

•1605),  and  fetienne  Todelle  (1532-73).    In  1549     ^ 

gave  to  the  pubuc  a  treatise  defending  the  French  langtBdJ 
demonstrating  a  way  in  which  it  coula  be  made  illustrious,  po- 
tentially, he  said,  it  was  as  fine  a  medium  of  expression  as  the 
classic  tongueg ;  it  n^AeA  only  niltjyation.  The  innovators  met 
with  no^  little  opposition,  but  gradually  they  won  the  support  of 
the  literary  persons  of  the  day.  Rfi"aaiid  \^^^^^  ♦^^  r\fRr\a\ 
y>et  of  the  court  and  secured  a  wide  general  popularity.  It  was 
the  hymns  of  the  ''  prince  of  poets/'  as  he  was  called,  that  most 
pleased  his  contemporaries;  but  it  is  in  his  lovely  songs,  his 
beautiful  sonnets,  and  his  elegiac  odes,  full  of  a  real  love  of 
fields  and  flowers  and  a  tender  r^^rd  for  his  fellow-men,  exhal- 
ing a  suave  regret,  expressed  with  flawless  taste  and  skill,  reveal- 
ing the  charm  of  music  and  of  mood,  that  we  of  to-day  find  the 
chief  attraction  of  the  "  first  great  master^^f  French  meter," 
D^^^Janff  the  author  of  the  famous  manifesto  of  the  Pleiad, 
IS  more  uniformly  excellent  than  Ronsard,  but  he  wrote  far  less, 
and  he  is  inferior  in  technical  skill  and  poetic  vision.  Tyard's 
work,  strongly  influenced  by  his  Italian  predecessors,  is  wflEct 
^|d  monotonous,  and  he  soon  abandoned  verse  for  theology  and 
maUifimatics.  Bcljgu^  display<*H  hi«s  love  ^f  Jhe_country  witlf 
something  of  thg'True  Vergilian  spirit  3ai£.  was  morfi._flf_a 
scftolar  than  a  poet,  but  his  verse  reveals  "!r]]\r^ly  fanry,  gra^p 
and  elegance.  The  verse  of  ^^g^s  jnsigaifi(^t ;  while  J^^^Q^ 
won  for  himself  an  importanTpJace  in  the  development  of  the 

French  drama.      Tfip  Kpgt  wnric  nf  fhiR  grrnnp  nf  pnpt.Q  ig  T^pf  f rang- 

ijlt^b|e-  Its  tender  grace  and  airy  spirit  are  too  elusive  to  be 
conveyed  by  any  other  medium  dian  their  own  language.  Its 
cool  and  silvery  air,  fragrant  with  the  faint  odors  of  the  dawn, 
may  be  seen  in  the  pictures  that  G>rot  loved  to  paint,  its  delicate 
distinction  in  those  of  Watteau.  What  was  die  effect  of  the 
new  program  for  poetry  that  found  its  origin  in  the  travelers' 
talk  of  a  chance  encounter  between  Ronsard  and  Du  Bellay  in 
a  wayside  tavern?  It  gave  to  French  literature  some  of  the 
refinement  which  hitherto  it  had  lacked  and  it  prepared  the  way 


lM9-8ft 


544  THE  CATHOUC  REFORMAtlON 


for  tlie  perf eotkm  which  was  evenftuil^  to  wfai'  lor  tliot 
tore  fhe  adminitioa  of  die  Uteraiy  woild 

Pbrtugal  WM  represented  amoqg  the  poets  Igr 
Qmgms  (ijllr^).  an  untitled  tdak,  who  came 
nuenoe  of  the  t^^wm^u— ~^  i  ■  jIi    Tfniuaiakjp  0^4  f^wnhf 

he  absoibed  a  mass  of  chsrtral  leamiiig  so  oompletdy  that  allBfe 
wards  he  was  ahk  to  write  his  epic  crowded  with  literaqr  *li 
historical  allusions  in  the  far-off  fortresses  of  Africa  and  Aski 
?'^w1  ^"*"  *ir^  ^^^^^  of  Lisbon  because  of  his  indiactetfaMi  hi 

and  India.    It  was  pn^ 
aUy  on  the  voyage  tolndia  that  he  coocehred  die  idea  of  kik 

maritune  qp^,  tfiB  filFMrff  ^^^^^  ^^  absence  of  aeftutep 
years  in  tne  East  he  returned  to  Lidxm  with  die  coaqileted  cpi^ 
written  in  the  intervals  of  a  most  checkered  career,  read|f  iff 
the  press.  The  Luciads  is  the  most  successful  attempt  to  write 
a  modern  epic  It  is  prolix  and  f requentfy  cqmmonplacs^  ht 
is  often  touched  widi  a  real  tenderness  and  at  times  it  mm 
to  nobility.  Camoens  knew  how  to  diooae  his  material  inm 
the  history  of  his  own  oountiy  with  an  unerring  cgre  for  its  tr^l^. 
moments.  His  epic  transfigures  the  past  of  the  land  he  faied^ 
and  it  breathes  a  stirring  patriotism.  So  it  has  been  a  polcJst 
factor  not  only  in  keepnig  alive  the  natkmal  f edinig  of  tiie  For* 
tuguese  but  also  in  preserving  the  ties  diat  bind  Braal  to  dtt 
mother-country.  Better  examples  of  his  genuine  poetic  power 
are  his  sonnets  and  odier  poems  of  whkh  he  wrote  a  great 
number.  In  them  the  tenderness  and  die  melancholy  that  he 
often  felt  receive  a  fitting  expression.  So  well  did  he  write 
his  own  language  that  even  to-day  it  is  called  "  the  language  of 
Camoens/*  "     """  — 

ine^poetry  of  the  great  Italians,  of  Boiardo,  Ariosto,  and 
Tasso,  found  a  worthy  additicm  in  the  work  of  E^oundSg^gQ 
siSB«F  (155^2-^)  which  was,  however,  not  merdy  imitative  but  born 
of  its  audior's  own  individual  genius  anH  fill^  with  th^  fipg, 
lish  spirit.  All  the  splendid  pageantry  of  forests  and  casflcs 
and  caves^with  their  knyhts,  ladies,  dragons,  and  enchanters, 

^the  picturesque  phantasmagoria  of  toight-eirantrv^  js  to  be 
f^..^A  .'..  ♦i.^'»Tr^^>j|>  Qi^p^p^i^  ^..^p  -^u  ♦u^  ^^j.i.^  mdody 

that  gained  f orTlpcnser  the  fame  of  being  the  poets'  poet  and 
steeped  in  the  magic  of  a  restful  and  dreamy  f elkity.  The  alle- 
gory that  was  demanded  by  his  abstract  and  contemplative  genius 
and  his  predilection  for  Neo-Platonism  is  fcvtunatdy  so  unob- 
trusive as  to  make  it  unlikely  that  it  would  ever  have  been  dis- 
covered had  he  not  himself  called  attention  to  it  The  heroic 
circumstances  of  the  death  of  SirJQ||I|B^ilJ|||||^(i554-^)  have 


THE  REPUBLIC  OF  LETTERS  545 


I 


■?  mde  htt  name  familiar  to  every  school-boy ;  but  to  the  lovers     nn 
;  of  fiterature  he  is  known  as  the  first  voice  capable  of  soaring      

foidody  in  the  lyric  choir  of  the  Elizabethan  age.  isss-im 

The  birdi  of  the  modem  drama  brought  a  new  set  of  men  m\x>^-^'^^ 
i  the  republic  of  letters.    Two  sources  furnished  suggestion  for         ^ 
3  the  play-wright  of  the  time  —  the  medieval  and  the  classical 
r   drama.    Italy,  some  of  whose  earlier  dramatists  we  have  al- 
!    ready  noticed,  won  no  conspicuous  success  in  the  field  of  dra-  xte 
I    matic  literature,  but  she  gave  to  the  world  a  new  type  in  the  form  ^ST 
I    of  the  pastoral  drama.    Rurnlir  poetry  had  always  been  keenly 

gnfgiyed  in  Ita^y  pv^f  ginro  tViP  Hayg  nf  Rrv^^^grin.     Perhaps  K 

lUse  of  the  strong  contrast  it  afforded  to  their  own  lives 
that  the  idealized  life  of  the  shepherds,  the  portrayal  of  its  tra- 
ditional innocence  and  simplicity,  appealed  so  tmfailingly  to  the 
refined  and  corrupt  courts  of  the  peninsula ;  at  least  the  recogni- 
tion of  a  contrast,  either  explicit  or  implicit,  between  the  sim- 
plicity of  pastoral  life  and  the  complexity  of  the  life  of  the  court 
or  the  city  b  a  constant  element  in  the  literature  known  as  pas- 
toral This  longing  of  the  satiate  soul  to  escape,  if  only  in  im- 
agination and  for  a  fleeting  moment,  from  the  world  that  is  too 
much  with  us  to  a  life  of  simplicity  and  innocence  is  expressed 
with  idyllic  sweetness  in  the  writings  of  ']^^dtm^and  is  given 
with  greater  and  more  poignant  intensity  in  those  of  XasgP  ^i^d 
Indeed,  Tasso  in  the  simple  and  artless  drama  of 

duced  the  typical  pastoral  play.    Full  of  tender  im- 

ages,  roguish  innocence  and  melodious  verse,  touched  here  and 
there  with  the  profound  melancholy  of  the  waning  Renaissance, 
its  alluring  simplicity  concealing  a  most  consummate  art,  it  is 
one  of  the  most  beautiful  flowers  of  Italian  poetry.  Ten  years 
later  <we  of  Tasso's  fellow-courtiers  at  Ferrara,  p^»»^'ef^  r:..ot^: 
(1538-1612),  paid  him  the  compliment  of  imitation  by  writing 
Jl  Pnx^Qx  Fi^Qi  Guarini  was  a  clear-eyed  man  of  considerable 
culture  who  was  well  aware  of  the  true  character  of  the  society 
in  which  he  lived  and  moved.  **  '^^  {V^}^  jg  ^  ^^^^  <"*g^?tuti?"/* 
he  wrote ;  "  it  is  a  shadow  not  a  substance  in  Italy  to-day.  Ours 
is  an  age  of  appearances,  and  we  go  a-masquerading."  His  play 
is  far  more  complex  in  plot  than  the  Aminta;  indeed,  so  consum- 
mate is  the  ingenuity  of  the  plot  that  it  is  not  equaled  by  that 
of  any  preceding  Italian  play;  and  it  cgmhines  the  features  of 
ihe^  lyric:^]  tr^f^pi^,  ^^  trapoHy.  and  of  comedy ;  Mt  it  js  almost 
entirely  lacking  jn  tme  <j|-^|nQ»iV  fA^iir^g     Af  firc»  i»c  ctirroco  a« 

a  play  surpassed  that  of  its  immediate  predecessor  and  it  exer- 
cised a  far  greater  influence  upon  the  succeeding  drama  of  Italy 
tfiaa  did  Tasso's  '"  perfumed  and  delicate ''  play ;  but  its  essen- 


546  THE  CATHOLIC  REFORMATION 


daily  artificial  character  has  left  it  stranded  upon  the  shores 
of  time  while  the  poetry  of  the  AnUnta  continues  successfully  to 
****"*•**  defy  every  change  in  taste.  Guarini's  ornaments  arc  merdy 
stage  jewds ;  and  the  type  of  play  itsdf  is  one  that  by  its  very 
nature  was  destined  to  early  decadence.  The  work  of  his  suc- 
cessors was  given  over  to  preciosities  and  affectations,  an  ex* 
pression  of  the  decline  of  Italian  culture  after  a  supreme  and 
glorious  age.  In  France  the  medieval  drama  gradually  gave 
place  to  Uie  modem  because  of  the  impact  of  the  drama  of 
classical  antiquity  and  the  Italian  Renaissance.  Ta^L^SUfa^me 
of  the  stars  of  the  Pleiad,  helni^gg  the  credit  o^  hvn^R  wri^^ 
both  the  first  comedy  and  the  first  tragedy  m  French.  But  while 
French  comedy  soon  became  distinctly  national  in  tone,  trzgdj 
had  to  wait  until  the  seventeenth  century  for  its  real  dawn  in 
France.  Soaia  would  have  nothing  to  do  with  translations  of 
classical  drama,  and  she  interested  hersdf  but  slightly  in  the 
contemporary  theater  of  Italy.  In  consequence  her  writers  un- 
dertook to  represent  her  own  life  on  the  Spanish  stage.  They 
found  a  fitting  leader  InJ^pp  <j^  Veya  (i  562-1635),  the  number 
of  whose  plays  makes  Ihe  greatest  demand  upon  our  credulity. 
Eighteen  hundred  f^ftufdin^  and  four  himdred  autos  sacram^tigL 
tales  are  said  to  represent  his  total  contribution  to  the  stage. 
WEether  these  vast  ascriptions  be  authentic  or  no  the  fact  re- 
mains that  he  had  the  creative  faculty  in  abotmding  measure. 
In  his  works  are  to  be  found  either  in  developed  form  or  in  germ 
every  subsequent  quality  and  characteristic  of  the  Spanish  drama. 
In  his  time  the  native  drama  fulfilled  all  the  conditions  of  a  na* 
tional  art.  It  was  bom  of  a  national  passion  for  the  stagCy  and 
it  appealed  to  all  classes  of  the  people.  The  English^  also,  had 
the  wisdom  and  the  courage  to  be  themselves  on  the  stage,  to 
cast  the  classical  unities  to  the  winds,  and  to  make  thdr  own 
rules,  much  freer  than  those  they  discarded  but  none  the  less 
conducive  to  a  glorious  art.  With  but  a  scant  devdopment  of 
the  technic  of  playwriting  and  a  slight  improvement  in  tfie  lan» 
guage  of  the  drama  as  the  only  performance  of  his  predecessors 
there  burst  upon  the  scene  Willi?"'  Shakpsneare  (1564-1616), 
the  greatest  of  all  modem  POets  with  a  profound  knowledge  of 
man/  No  other  writer  has  portrayed  for  us  so  many  aspects  of 
human  nature  or  rendered  for  us  so  many  moods  and  passions 
each  with  its  own  authentic  accent.  To  him  and  to  his  numerous 
contemporaries  is  due  the  fact  that  the  Elizabethan  stage  infi» 

n\fp\y  tranQrpnHg  that  nf  any  nt>i<>r  rntintry  and  anv  r>»W  »«n<>  ' 

since  the  long  departed  days  of  '*  the  plorv  that  was  Greece,*' 
Last  of  the  members  ot  the  republic  of  letters  whom  we  shaQ 


THE  REPUBLIC  OF  LETTERS 


deal  with  are  the  novelists.    The  rise  of  the  novel  and  some- 
tiung  of  its  development  we  have  already  noticed.    With  the 
5|  death  of  Bandello  tfie  Italian  novel  began  visibly  to  decline  and  ^^^^^^ 

lore  of  merit  was  produced  in  the  peninsula  in  that  line 

^ pin<>tp<n]f;h  century!    France  did  not  make  a  practice 

of  novel-writing  until  the  sixteenth  century  was  well  under  way. 
*^^  ftllg  FrftT^^  novelist  of  importance  in  the  period  with  which 
we  are  dealing  is  Margaret  ftf  ^yggtjSSff^  fjAn^^ic^n^  whom 
Michelet  has  happilyilyled  "  IhtJTinlaWe  mother  of  the  Renais- 
sance.'' She  set  out  to  write  a  new  Decameron,  but  only  seventy- 
two  stories  were  completed.  It  is  thought  that  all  the  characters 
of  the  Hedfamof^n  represent  real  persons  and  it  is  certain  that 
they  illustrate  the  society  of  that  day.    The  book  is  the  most 

vivid  portrayal  that  we  hav^  pf  the  early  Fr^nrh  T^^naissance, 

**of  its  social  and  intellectual  atmosphere,  of  that  curious  mix- 
ture of  coarseness  and  refinement,  of  C}micism  and  enthusiasm* 
of  irreverence  and  piety,  of  delight  in  living  and  love  of  medi- 
taticm  on  death  which  characterized  that  period  of  transition  be- 
tween the  medieval  and  the  modem  world."  The  stories  them- 
selves are  for  the  most  part  mediocre.  By  the  middle  of  the 
sixteenth  century  Itajian  novels  "  as  merry  companions  to  shorten 
the  tedious  toil  of  weary  ways"  had  become  very  popular  ip 
England.  The  bent  of  the  literary  genius  of  the  time  was 
towards  tne  lyric  and  the  drama;  but  Sida/9^*s  Arcadia,  usually 
styled  a  pastoral  novel,  though  in  reality  a  book  of  knightly 
deeds,"  may  be  mentioned  to  demonstrate  the  fact  that  the  Eliza- 
bethans did  not  wholly  neglect  the  prose  story.  Another  species 
of  the  story  of  adventure,  the  picaresque  novel.  ga^Tlfif^  gr#>afr 
f^yoT  esperially  in  5>pain.  The  picaroon  story  is  the  autobi- 
ographical narrative  of  a  real  or  imaginative  rogue  who  recites 
his  robberies  and  depredations  upon  society  with  gusto  and  who 
exhibits  a  feeling  of  contempt  for  the  public  he  has  plundered. 
It  may  be  found  in  undeveloped  form  in  classical  literature  and 
in  the  fableaux  of  the  Middle  Ages,  but  it  was  in  Spain  that  it 
received  its  final  form.  The  first  example  of  the  novela 
picaresca  is  La  ladade  La^ariUo  de  Tormes,oi  uncertain  author- 
jbipi  that  m^5TI^5ppearance  about  the  niiadle  of  the  sixteenth 
century.  Many  imitations  were  made  of  so  popular  a  story,  but 
it  was  not  until  the  last  year  of  the  century  that  in  the  Guzman^ 
de  Alfarache  of  Maitfti  AUtn^n  (1547-1609?)  its  first  serious  rival 
appeared.  This^lvas  quicKiy  iollowed  by  a  number  of  brilliant 
narratives  in  the  same  style  and  the  picaresque  literature  rapidly 
won  for  itself  a  wide  popularity  not  only  in  Spain  but  also  in 
the  other  countries  of  western  Europe.    Romances  of  chivalry 


«w^ 


THE  CATHOUC  REFORMATION 


gSiS*    lud  kxig  been  popular  in  every  Earopaui  land.    Eqwfrially  pop*- 

^'*^^'^  written  in  Castile  about  1350;  and  many  other  stories  of  lapghl- 
errantly  were  written  in  inritarion  of  iL    These  stories,  like 
chivalry  itself,  degenerated  into  the  most  fsntastic  and  ti&m 
absurdities.    One  of  the  two  diief  theories  about  Don 
the  masterpiece^  bqiotten  in  a  jafl»  of  Mi 
Saavsdp»  (1547-1616),  which  is  the  only 
UtCHfure^  that  has  won  for  itsdf  the  worid's  esteem,  is  tiiat  it 
was  intended  as  a  burlesque  upon  these  romances  of  chiviliT. 
The  other  is  that  it  was  intendeci  as  a  fanre  upon 


thusjaan^  J5e  these  surmises  asmey  may,  it  is  not  to  either  of 
these  purposes,  or  even  to  its  numerous  adventures,  that  die 
_book  owes  its  wide  popularity  but  to  tiie 

re,  humane 


portrayal  of  its  brave,  humane  and  courteous  herob  hia  shitwd 
una  semsn  yet  wnouv  lancuv  and  loval  servant,  and  all  tiie  ' 
gharacters.  priests  and  inn*  « ■ «  «  ""  ' 

jjQiii^  «ti^  fill  *u^  j^^^s^^^  ^f  ^THilrmpma 


folded  in  its  teeming  pages  with  penetrating  insight  Imd  gaud 
spirit  In  Cervantes,  said  Victor  Hugo,  was  the  deep  podie 
q>irit  of  the  Renaissance.  So  full  is  his  book  of  the  milk  oS  lov* 
ing  kindness  that  the  simple  human  rdations  become  more  sj^ 
n^cant  to  us  and  we  become  more  aware  of  the  vahie  of  the 
words  of  our  fdlow-men  and  more  reqxxistve  to  tfie  toodi  of 
their  hands  in  our  greetings  and  partings. 


CHAPTER  XXX 

THE  REPUBUC  OF  THE  ARTS 

1.  Architecture. 

2.  Sctilpture. 

3.  Painting. 

4.  Music. 

5.  The  End  of  the  Century. 

FIRST  among  the  artists  whom  we  shall  consider  in  our  study     otap. 
of  the  republic  of  arts  are  the  architects.    We  have  noted      **^ 
the  germs  of  decadence  in  the  architectural  work  of  Michel-    i54o-8o 
angela    That  decadence  became  more  pronounced  as  the  years 
unrolled.    The  chastity  of  the  April  of  the  Renaissance  had  ThtVtw 
passed  away  and  the  exuberance  of  its  Indian  stunmer  was  at  Sj^£!* 
htnd.    But  there  were  some  artists  who  resisted  the  tendency  ^^o^u* 
towards  the  florid  and  the  ornate.    Giacomo  Barocchio  /nfo7- 
75),  sometimes  called  Barozzi  da  Vignola,  who  succeeded  Michel-  ^ 
>iiyr<>1n  ^^  fb^  arrtiitprf  ftf  ^St,  Peter's^  was  a  builder  of  wide 
knowledge  and  fine  taste  who,  although  he  permitted  himself  to 
employ  such  devices  as  the  broken  pediment  over  door  and  win- 
dow, did  much  to  uphold  the  neo-dassic  style  amid  the  increasing^ 
wJiitectural  excesses  of  the  time.    A  still  greater  advocate  of 
fEe  neo-dassic  architecture  of  the  earlier  Renaissance  was  Andrea 
Palladk>  (isiS-^)  wTi^nf  w^*-^  ir  h^:^'i^^g  h  nAmnvhiit  unilct- 
jBVLs  to  that  of  the  rirernniatiQ  in  1iti>r^t^||-g     So  powerful  was 
£e  influence  that  he  exerted,  by  means  of  writings  as  wdl  as 
irchitectural  works,  that  the  cold  and  calculated  style  whidi  he 
fostered  has  recdved  the  name  of  Palladian.    Yet  the  tyranny 
>f  his  mathematical  and  correct  uniformity,  restrained  and  rest- 
ful, but  intolerant  alike  of  diversity  and  spontaneity,  was  not 
Hfithout  its  value  in  a  time  when  architecture  was  running  to 
iced  in  the  tmchecked  desire  for  novdty  of  design  and  luxuriance 
>f  decoration. 

We  have  seen  that  the  varying  Italian  interpretations  of  classic 
irchitecture  made  their  way  into  France  and,  fused  with  the 
Samboyant  Gothic  of  the  end  of  the  Middle  Ages  produced  first 
I  transitional  style  and  afterwards  a  distinct  Renaissance  type 
informed  with  the  national  genius.    But  the  architecture  of  the 

5^ 


SSO 


THE  CATHOUC  REFORMATION 


og^«     French  Renaissance  was  not  so  distinctively  national  as  it 

have  been  had  not  the  Italian  influence,  induced  bj  aixty  yean 

^*^^^*M  French  military  activity  in  the  peninsula  and  supported  by 

great  Medicean  princess  at  the  Parisian  court,  been  protougdfej 

Among  the  French  architects  of  the  time  were  Pierre 

( P-15^),  the  designer  of  a  PMt  of  tfa^  Louvre^  who 

dose  conjunction  with  Vean  Gonion  f i.saoJ^Ss?^.  a  solglDt^ 

who  possessed  the  architectural  sense  in  a  high  di^gree;  Philtel 

de  rOrme,  ( ?-iS7o)«  who  studied  **"  »*t  in  ^*^V  *^nfl  fflllTPT^ 
remove  the  lingering  (V^fitr  frf^f^g^  gt^  ^  yestore  the  st^aJ 


w*  ^^ ^t  *  1 1 


Greece:  and  J*^"  pniiflf^t  (iSiS^-TS),  an  artist  of 
power  and  originality.  Frendi  ar^hitfTtir^i  ^^^^  ^^""^ 
experienced  a  decline.  It  had  depended  very  largely  vtpaa  Ihe 
patrcmage  of  the  court  and  tfie  taste  of  the  later  Valois  Idqp 
tended  towards  extravagance*  Then,  too^  the  long  aaafdiif 
of  the  religious  wars  was  disastrous  to  almost  every  kind  o(f 
art 

But  it  is  to  the  dq^eneracy  of  Italian  ardiitecture,  more  in* 
portant  in  itself  and  in  its  influence  than  that  of  France,  thai  we 
must  turn  our  attention.  The  exuberant  ornamentation  of  bdldp 
ings  produced  a  fantastic  style  that  is  called  *'  hamgnfe"  a  turn 
derived  from  the  Spanish  word  barrueco  or  benueco  wUdi  ii 
the  name  given  to  an  imperfectly  rounded  pearL  The  baroqae 
is  scmietimes  called  the  styU  jisuUe,  but  widi  injustice  to  the 
followers  of  Loyola.  Long  before  the  first  Jesuit  chorcfa  was 
built  in  Italy  examples  of  baroque  exaggeration  were  to  be  found 
in  more  than  one  of  the  plastic  arts  in  the  peninsula.  It  is  tme 
the  Jesuits  were  the  leading  patrons  of  the  style  in  eccl^faiitic^ 

i^  hiit-ihatjy^g  pprCapg  hPraiifiP  fht^y  were  hnilHiny  tnftre 

hitrio  fVt^t^  itrnr  ntiy  ■Antr  mlijpnitr  nt-Ai^         ^nj  ^ 

style  was  by  no  means  confined  to  churches.  It  was  adopted  for 
secular  buildings,  both  public  and  private,  of  every  sort  It  has 
been  the  fashion  to  condenm  the  baroque  unsparingly.  Eveiy 
pediment  was  a  paradox  we  are  told,  and  every  column  a  con- 
ceit. And  we  have  just  spoken  of  it  as  a  degener^^y  sty^^  v^ 
it  was  not  without  its  merits.  What  produced  this  style  whose 
embodiment  one  may  see  in  the  beautiful  church  of  Santa  Maria 
della  Salute  in  Venice?  Was  it  not  a  revolt  against  the  cold  and 
oftentimes  clumsy  classicism  of  Palladio  and  his  contemporary 
purists  ?  Baroque,  it  is  true,  could  break  every  canon  of  the  art 
and  become  bizarre,  even  delirious,  almost  bejrond  belief.  Yet 
do  we  judge  Gothic  by  its  worst  examples?  Baroque  had  cer- 
tain qualities  of  scale  and  composition  that  have  too  frequently 
been  overlooked ;  it  was  not  always  insincere ;  and  he  who  looks 


THE  REPUBLIC  OF  ARTS  551 


Npiith  eyes  to  see  may  behold  in  it  much  that  is  imaginative  and 
not  a  little  that  is  beautiful. 

Signs  of  decay  were  not  wanting  in  the  art  of  sculpture.    The  ^'^^i*** 
culture  of  the  time  which  produced  the  Ciceronian  literature  in-  n* 
duc«d  the  sculptor  to  neglect  his  own  vision  of  the  world  and  to  ^Jj^^f* 
woik  only  in  accordance  with  the  accepted  standards  of  classic  tnnio 
beauty.    So,  instead  of  thinking,  the  sculpture  of  the  later  Re-  ^jj 
**^*^^arce  merely  adapted  tl^nught !  and,  instead  o^  feeling,  it  was 
ctrntent  to  sinrmt^^^  ifh<>  fppling VTtfiP  riaRgiV  agp     The  rcveUtion 
of  the  individual,  then,  which  is  the  most  precious  thing  in  art, 
was  diminished.    But  on  the  other  hand  technical  facility  was 
greatly  increased.    There  was  nothing  possible  to  tlii>  rarv<*r  gf 
gtone  which  the  sculptors  at  the  end  of  the  sixteenth  century 
could  not  do.    Indeed,  the  marble  group  known  as  the  Rape  of 
the  Sabines  is  said  to  have  been  made  by  Giovanni  da  Bologna 
(1524-1608)  to  prove  that  the  fragility  of  the  stone  placed  no 
limit  upon  his  technical  skill.    Yet  wonderful  as  was  that  skill 
it  produced  for  us  figures  that  appeal  to  us  only  as  poses  and  not 
as  personages.    When  the  century  ylo^ed^  the  transition  of  sculp* 
ture  to  the  sensational  was  almngt  rnmplete.    For  the  sake  of 
gurpnse  and  wonder,  truth  was  banished  and  in  its  place  was 

substitute^    ^h^    Hi«;p1ay    nf    a    rnngnmmatf^   terhnir^    eytravagaLtir 

moyqncgit,  and  exaggerated  conduct. 

Painting  on  the  other  hand  had  found  a  new  center  in  Venice 
where  the  cult  of  antiquity  was  not  so  controlling  as  at  Florence 
and  Rome  and  where  rich  impulses  came  from  the  prevalent  de- 
sire to  see,  originally  and  independently,  life  and  the  world  in 
which  men  live.  And  a  new  force,  as  it  were,  had  come  into 
existence  to  renew  the  vitality  of  painting.  For  the  first  time 
the  full  glory  of  color  was  being  revealed  by  the  Venetians.  In 
the  sumptuous  art  of  Ff^ft^^  Vprnnese  (Tg2R-J^^  the  golden  and 
magistral  pageant  of  the  city  in  the  sea  found  a  masterly  expres- 
sion.    It   is    not    form   hut   cn\nr^   miramlniig     riVfi     Qmn1(^^rj[ng^ 

altematingly  gorgeous  and  tender  according  to  the  circtmistances 
of  light  and  shade,  that  gives  to  the  cathedral  of  St.  Mark  its 
special  beauty.    So,  too,  is  it  color  and  not  f^pn  that  IT^V^^ 

Y«ietian  painting  heautiful.      i^e  greatest  mag^er  ni  rnXnr  thaT 

Venice  pr^^fi^e^,  the  most  glorious  painter  of  her  pageantry,  was 
Veronese.  In  him  we  shall  seek  in  vain  for  nobility  of  thought 
and  for  religious  fervor,  and  seldom  shall  we  find  a  touch  of 
tender  sentiment;  but  the  life  of  the  city  impearled  amid  its 
ministering  sea,  its  slender  campanili,  its  glistening  domes,  the 
palaces  that  fringe  its  fantastic  waterways,  its  processions  and 
banquets,  its  pomp  of  color,  the  fullness  of  its  splendor,  all  this 


ss» 


THE  CATHOUC  REFORMATION 


^ 


BdMlte 


and  much  inofc  bora  of  Us  own  inMgiintion  ho  pninted 
one  else  in  the  world  has  ever  been  able  to  pninL 

If  pfofomd  imagination  and  spiritual  insjght  wne 
the  worlc  of  Veronese  ihcj  are  mnij  present  in  that  of 
Ef^busti  (151S-94)  whom,  because  as  a  boj  he  h^>ed 
in  Ae  wotlc  of  dyen^  silk,  men  have  alwajs  ealled 
On  Alt  wan  of  his  studio,  when  still  a  youth,  he  wrote 
''die  drawing  of  Ifichdaqgdb  and  the  color  of  Titian^  mM 
ideal  to  whidi  he  wished  to  attain.  And  the  energy  of  tb 
and  die  color  of  the  other  of  tiie  two  masters  whom  Ik 
admired  speak  to  us  to-day  from  Ibt  great  pictures  that  hi 
pahited.  T^g  xfiVfT  Q^  Tintoretto's  subjects  is  verxjride.  It 
includes  themes  from  tne  classic  pas^ 


stoiy,  and  As 

life  and  personages  of  his  own  rqwiblic  All  of  dieae  he  trealel 
in  his  own  original  way.  J/g^/^gg^gm,  excelled  only  by  fhat.ff 
Shakeq)eare,  enabled  bun  to  penetrate  to  the  heart  of  emiy 
ject  that  he  sdected,  to  picture  afanost  every  fdiaae  erf 
experience  and  to  portray  the  matrjr  sides  of  its  aqnratioiL  Si 
pictorial  sense,  and  a  masteriy  tedmic  obtained  by  infinite  paioi- 
taking,  enabled  him  to  c^btain,  with  instantaneous  tondi  uA 
almost  unapproachable  predskm,  certain  qualities  of  U^bt  uA 
color  charged,  beyond  that  of  any  other  artist,  with  the  cuiolioa 
of  the  subject,  and  to  steep  his  figures  in  a  poetry  of  atuMMphcK 
that  gives  to  them  life  and  meaning  and  imparts  to  hia  aoem 
their  astonishing  effect  of  reality. 

Tintoretto  was  the  last  of  aJl  the  supreme  Italian  pasnteni 
The  art  that  followed  him  was  but  the  blocxn  of  a  period  of 
decay.  Most  of  the  great  painters  had  left  behind  them  a  train 
of  followers,  servile  imitators  who  were  known  as  **  mannerists  **; 
but  a  reaction,  in  the  form  of  eclectic  schools,  arose  against  the 
various  m^t|||i>ri«sms  hggpH  upon  the  imitation  of  the  works  01 
ingle  great  painters^  Q^^Sfc  ^"^  ™^^  influential  of  these  schooli 
wag  th#>  or^i^AfT^y  jjf  P^r^^i  fniinrir^  by  Lodovioo  Caqfla— 
(1555-1619),  whose  two  neohews.  Aongtinn  t^^jagcu ^ ISST" 
1602)  and  Annibale  C^yacci  iig6c>-i6oQi.  were  tor  a  time  asso- 
ciated with  nun.  The  principle  that  dett 
of  these  eclectics,  who  lorgot  t&at  ^  poons  distilled  from  other 
poems  pass  away,"  was  ^o  ymv  f rop  the  work  of  eadi  grgt 


master  the  gtialitY  that  seemed  most  ^^rt\'^r  ^^ 
and  to  combing  thfi^p  q«ai;f;^  ;« 
whole  was  to  be  at  least  as  excellent  as  the  sum  of  the  com- 
ponent parts.  It  is  quite  evident  from  such  a  program  as  this 
that  all  spontaneity  in  painting  had  spent  itself.    But,  ahhough 


THE  REPUBLIC  OF  ARTS  553 


il  has  been  said  that  the  only  result  of  this  attempt  to  resuscitate     ^gff* 

die  dead  was  to  kill  the  living,  the  work  of  the  eclectics  is  not     

iteogether  without  merit  and  significance.  Something  they  con-  ^••■^••* 
tributed  to  the  technic  of  their  art  and  they  gave  expression 
to  the  fervor  of  the  first  stage  of  militant  Catholicism.  One  of 
dbe  most  important  followers  of  the  Caracci  was  Zampieri 
^  igiichino  (1581-1641),  whose  work  testifies  to  the  sway  that 
urn  naa  resumed  over  the  minds  of  the  Italians.  After  the 
death  of  Lodovico  the  school  was  led  by  Qiirio  l^em  ( 1575-1642) 
irhose  masterpiece,  the  fresco  of  AunJfS^  is  so  wdl-taiown  by 
its  reproductions,  and  whose  work  at  its  best  has  a  soft  charm  of 
ddicate  color  and  graceful  line. 

In  still  another  way  did  the  reaction  against  the  mannerists 
express  itself.  Michel  Angelo  Carayaggfo  (1569-1609),  and  TteEMi- 
thc  realists  who  followed  his  lead,  paintud  the  baldest  ei  Iran-  J^***^ 
■gr|p»q  !^!'^^  nature.  The  principle  of  reproducing  nature  with- 
9nt  modification  was  not  without  its  attractive  results  as  long  as 
the  subjects  were  the  gamesters  and  bravi  of  the  wayside  taverns, 
but  when  it  attempted  religious  figures  it  failed  completely.  One 
Dther  thing,  an  exaggerated  chiaroscuro,  characterized  Caravag- 
|io  and  his  followers.  So  theatrical  became  their  contrasts  of 
light  and  shadow,  and  so  somber  the  colore  {hey  preferred,  th^t 
fecy  were  known  as  the  Tenebrosi. 

'^I'hese  filters  oi  the  period  oi  aecline,  especially  the  eclectics, 
became  extremely  popular  in  other  countries  than  their  own. 
The  art  criticism  of  the  two  succeeding  centuries  is  full  of  their  wiqrXiitw. 
praises.  Literature  and  art  in  Italy  had  spent  their  force  and  ]|^^^' 
declined  from  the  summits  of  poetry  and  inspiration  to  the  eiUMd 
depths  of  a  facile  skill  that  had  nothing  to  say.  The  motives 
bat  inspired  the  brush  of  Raphael  and  the  pen  of  Ariosto  were 
esdiausted.  Painters  and  poets  alike  depend  in  great  measure 
upon  their  epoch.  They  give  utterance  to  its  thought  and  aspira- 
tions. When  these  have  been  expressed  a  pause  must  come  until 
i  succeeding  age  has  made  its  contribution  in  thought,  emotion, 
and  ideals,  to  the  history  of  the  world.  Art  cannot  anticipate 
tbese  things.  And  it  requires  a  long  time  for  human  experience 
and  aspiration  to  work  out  new  thought,  to  develop  new  emo- 
tion, and  to  choose  new  ideals,  for  art  to  express.  Between  the 
different  periods  of  great  creative  activity,  therefore,  there  will 
always  be  found  times  of  reflection  which  may  take  the  form  of 
pedantry  or  of  sound  criticism.  So  the  decline  of  literature  and 
(Nonting  must  not  be  hastily  attributed  to  the  action  of  militant 

That  movement,  beyond  all  doubt,  was  unfavor- 


554 


THE  CATHOLIC  REFORMATION 


OBAP. 


able  to  art  in  its  purest  forms;  but  it  was  by  no  means  thi 
sole  or  even  the  principal  cause  of  the  genend  decline.    Thi 
simple  truth  is  that  the  aloe  had  blossomed  and  the  end  Tg 
\oinsE  ■  ■""  ""^ 

But  in  this  period  of  decline  Italy  had  become  the  cradle  of 
another  art,  even  purer  and  nobler  than  those  whose  decadence 
we  have  just  noted.  Thus  far  music  had  made  no  notahk 
progress,  and  it  was  especially  backward  in  Italy, 
prrpat  rnmpftQi^f  ^pp^^r^  jj^  the  peuinsula  unt 
of  the  sixteenth  century  and  most  of  the  executants  were  men 
from  beyond  the  Alps.  The  first  form  in  which  modem  musk 
began  its  development  was  that  of  the  madrigal,  a  song  written 
for  three  or  more  voices.  The  ]true  madrigal  mav  be  said  to  have 
had  its  rise  in  Flanders,  bul 


reach  its  full  maturity  until  ITwas  tratig^<^rfg(^  tn  Tfjjy  In  Rome 
the  madrigal  found  many  composers  of  distinction;  in  Venice 
and  Florence  it  enjoyed  great  popular}^;  in  Naplei  it  had  a 
brilliant  penod ;  arid,  though  it  taiiea  to  ingratiate  itc^lf  fntn  the 
favor  of  either  the  French  qr  th"^  n^«-**^^*^«j  \\  ^pn^  f a**  <»c^1^  t^ 
affection  o^  th^  ^-"gljghi  The  Qiurch  was  in  great  need  of  tiui 
power  to  write  harmonically  and  melodiously.  She  was  in  sdB 
greater  need  of  the  power  and  the  desire  to  write  in  a  true  reli« 
gious  spirit.  The  mass,  its  poetic  and  dramatic  situations  en* 
tirely  ignored,  had  become  a  performance  of  musical  acrobatia 
in  which  the  jigs  and  catches  of  the  taverns,  together  with  theit 
words  that  were  oftentimes  licentious,  had  found  a  place.  And 
so  inappropriate  and  discordant  was  the  instrumental  accompani- 
ment that  the  Council  of  Trent  seriously  thought  of  reverting 
to  the  stem  and  naked  plain-song  of  the  Middle  Ages.  The  con- 
ciliar  fathers,  however,  contented  themselves  with  a  resolution 
against  the  mescolatnento  di  sagro  e  profano  in  the  music  of  the 
mass;  and  in  1564  Pius  IV  created  a  commission  of  eight  cardi- 
nals to  carry  out  the  resolution.  Fortunately  in  the  person  of 
Giovi 


^igi  da  Palestrina  f  It;i4?-<u)  there  app^^rpH  the 

yery  man  for  the  hour.  After  suffering  the  pangs  of  poverty 
and  the  bitterness  of  aefeated  hope  he  had  been  iQ§tallcd-ai 
maestro  di  cap^l\g.  j"  ^V'^  /-i.Mrp[|  ^f  ,^^nta  \faria  Maggiore  in 
kome  when  two  of  the  cardinals  of  the  commission  requested  him 
to  submit  a  musical  setting  of  the  mass.  In  response,  so  it  is 
averred,  Palestrina  placed  three  masses  in  the  hands  of  Cardinal 
Carlo  Borromeo.  Tfi#>  fhWA  Tr|flf^<^,  »h^  in^ffahly  hy»itiful  J^jssa 
Papce  Marcelli,  in  which  the  words  of  the  mass  are  most  elo- 
quently  expressed,  was  sung  in  the  Sistine  Chapel  before  the  en- 
chanted pope,  and  soon  "  the  whole  of  Italy  welcomed  it  with  a 


THE  REPUBLIC  OF  ARTS 


551 


OBAP. 


158«-M 


Birth  of 
tlMOrm- 

iOXlOABd 


burst  of  passionate  applause."  All  doubts  were  set  at  rest. 
Music,  the  most  spiritual  of  all  the  arts,  found  its  fitting  place 
in  the  most  solemn  and  majestic  ritual  that  the  world  has  known. 
It  is  not  easy  to  reconcile  the  story  of  the  submission  of  the  three 
Dsasses  with  the  chronology  of  Palestrina's  works,  but  there  is 
DO  doubt  that  the  Church  was  greatly  aided  by  him  in  the  task 
Df  improving  the  music  of  her  services.  The  "  Mass  of  Pope 
Ifarcellus"  is  perhaps  Palestrina's  greatest  work,  but  he  wrote 
It  ^HJiit  n^"<*<7-fniir  njasses  and  many  hvmns.  Among  the  former 
is  the  t^^'fi^a  ff^-^***",  ^"^^^^  ^«»  r^ff^ti  ciinyr  fr.-/ioy^  ^ud  thc  beautlful 
dJ^fnpta  £xt  Maria  in  Ccelum:  while  among  the  latter  is  the 
w>lendid  Surge,  illuminare  Jerusalem,  the  sweet  and  tender  Pec- 
cantem  me  quolidte,  and  the  pathetic  ^^uppr  ^yfffffff  pahyln§uji. 

lus  did  a  new  and  noble  art  arise  and  religion  receive  if  not 
its  most  splendid  music  at  least  that  which  can  rightly  claim  to 
be  its  most  reverent  and  devout. 

The  modem  mass  was  not  the  only  music-form  that  had  its 
beginning  at  this  time.  In  Philip  Ne^f's  fVinrrfi  i^i  Ro"ii*,  |fnft>»r« 
IS  the  Oratory,  as  well  as  m  other  churches,  it  was  the  custom 
to  present  from  time  to  time  one  or  other  of  the  biblical  stories 
i^ith  choruses,  solos,  and  instrumental  accompaniment.    It  be-  tb»  Optra 

came  the  ^ndeavnr  to  expresfi  mnre  faittifnlly  in  *t^^  ^t^^l^  »t,^ 

dramatic  character  ^f  t)^^  worHs^  anH  thus  wag  /^i^yflopp^  ^^^ 
f^ratnqff.  cinspiv  allied  with  the  oratorio  at  this  time  was  still 
smother  new  music  form,  the  opera,  which  is  a  secular  drama  set 
to  music.    The  first  distinct  work  of  the  new  species  was  the 

RuriAira   nf    Jarr^pn    P^rt    (1561-1609?),    which    is    UOt    withoUt 

beauty  and  eflfectiveness  in  the  new   declamatory  style.    Bijt 

opera  had  to  wait    ^QX  It"^   ^^""^   '"''^^    mncfAr   imfil  ^Inrlr  hftgnti    »r> 

Dompose  in  the  eigbti^fn^^  /^^tifmy 

Our  study  of  the  revival  of  science  carried  us  to  the  end  of 
>ur  period  and  even  beyond  it,  for  Galileo  did  not  die  until 
almost  the  middle  of  the  seventeenth  century.  Each  of  the 
sciences  that  we  have  noticed  continued  to  progress,  to  become  j^Sl 
aware  more  definitely  of  its  field,  to  make  explorations  in  that 
field,  and  to  perfect  its  procedure ;  and  other  sciences  were  being 
bom.  Thejrogress  of  the  sciences  did  much  to  spread^the  con- 
yjction  that  thg  hUfaian  unaerstanomg  is  m  ^tgplf  Qnf^rient  tn 
eomprehena  nature  ana  to  reyilate  the  life  of  the  indivic|uf>l  apd 
that  ot  society,  l^rom  the  close  of  the  sixteenth  century  there 
an  ever-increasing  body  ot  scholarly  and  fcUltlvat^d  Iftto  who 
:nougnt  and  tneir  dailv  lite  uppn  the  ant^p^y  t\i 
fifman  understanding.     Thus  did  thev  disown  the  dominion 


of  external  authority  and  carry  on  in  the  realm  of  thought  thai 


5s6  THE  CATHOUC  REFORMATION 


revival  of  Ae  individiial  which  we  have  found  to  be  the  hm 
element  of  tlie  Renaissance. 

Our  sfeoty  comes  tp  an  end  witfi  tiie  opcniDig  of  die  aevcntecut 
centuiy.  It  was  an^ms^lsLiimck  The  opposipg  forces  oi 
human  lif C^^ui  uiUI  |(reater  energy  by  tlie  revival  of  natioa- 
ality  and  that  of  indivvluality,  had  not  found  their  lesultaaL 
Indeed,  they  have  not  done  so  yet;  nor  can  any  man  say  wfaea 
that  wOl  be  accomplished.  It  was  a  time  of  gusty  and  variabk 
storms,  rather  than  of  winds  that  were  settiqg  steadily  into  a^ 
customed  directions.  But  in  all  tins  seething  and  clashing  life 
there  was  at  work  quietly  and  unceasingly,  as  there  is  tOHby, 
that  most  potent  of  all  the  forces  of  all  the  4ges^  ajft,  of  fife 
itsdf-sJfae  <tevcliyment  of  indivij 


APPENDIX 


GENEALOGICAL  TABLES 

LIST  OF  THE  HOLY  ROMAN  EMPERORS 

UST  OF  THE  POPES 

UST  OF  REFERENCES 


MEMBERS  OP  THE  HOUSE  OP  HAPSBURG 

Tha  aaiiM*  el  tha  Mnperors  are  printed  in  larsar  tjrpe 

Rudolf  It  Emperor  1273-91 

I 1 

Albert  I;  Matadi=Loun  U  of  WittebbMA 

Emporor  Albert  1 1296-1308 


1  I 

Frederick,  claimant  of  the  imperial  title    Albert  II 

died  1330  I 

I 1 

Albert  III  Leopold 

I  1 

Albert  IV  Ernest 

I  J 

Elisabeth  =  Albert  V;  Fraderiok  III  Emperor 

daughter      Emporor  1440-93 

of  Albert  II 

Emperor        143^39 
Sigitmund 

If  arj  of  Burgund3F=Me¥imilien  It  Emperor 

1493-1519 


S6o  GENEALOGICAL  TABLES 


MEMBERS  OP  THE  HOUSE  OP  LUXEMBURG 


Henry  VII;  Emperor  1308-13 

John  of  Bohemi«==Eltsabedi, 
daughter  of  Wenzel  11  of  Bohcaii 

Charles  IV;  Emperor  1346-78 
I 1 


WenceUus;  Maiy  daughter  of  =Si(»mund;  King  of  HnanR 

Eaiperor  1378>1400        Loan  of  Hangujr     |  Empeior  ItiMv 

EUsabethssAlbert  V  of  HaptlNui; 

Emperor  Albert  H  1439-39 


MEMBERS  OP  THE  HOUSE  OP  WITTELSBACH 

Otto  I,  first  Wittelsbach  duke  of  Bararia;  died  1183 

I 
Louis  I;  1183-1231 

I 
Otto  II;  1231-53 

I 
Louis  II  (1253-94)=Matilda,  daughter  of  Emperor  Rtidolf  I 

Louis  III,  the  Bavarian;  Emperor  Louis  IV;  1314-47 


GENEALOGICAL  TABLES 


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HOLY  ROMAN  EMPERORS 

Radolf  I  (of  Hapsburg)  ;  1273-91. 

Adolf  I  (of  Nassau)  ;  1292-98. 

Albert  I  (of  Hapsburg)  ;  1298-1308. 

Henry  VII  (of  Luxemburg)  ;  1308-13. 

Louis  IV  (of  Wittelsbach ;  the  Bavarian)  ;  1314-46. 

Frederick  II   (of  Hapsburg),  claimant  of  the  imperial  title; 

1314-21. 
Charles  IV  (of  Luxemburg)  ;  1346-78. 
Wenceslaus  (of  Luxemburg)  ;  1378-1400. 
Rupert  (of  Wittelsbach)  ;  1400-10. 
Sigismund  (of  Luxemburg)  ;  1410-37. 
Albert  II  (of  Hapsburg)  ;  1438-39. 
Frederick  III  (of  Hapsburg)  ;  1440-93. 
Maximilian  I  (of  Hapsburg)  ;  1493-1519. 
Charles  V  (of  Hapsburg)  ;  1519-56. 
Ferdinand  I  (of  Hapsburg)  ;  1556-64. 
Maximilian  II  (of  Hapsburg)  ;  1564-76. 
Rudolf  II  (of  Hapsburg) ;  1 576-1612. 
Mathias  (of  Hapsburg)  ;  1612-19. 

LIST  OF  POPES 

(The  schismatic  Popes  are  printed  in  italics.) 

Gregory  X  (Teobaldo  Visconti) ;  1271-76. 

Innocent  V  (Petrus  Tarentasia)  ;  1276. 

Adrian  V  (Ottobuono  Fieschi)  ;  1276. 

John  XXI  (Petrus  Juliani)  ;  1276-77. 

Nicholas  III  ^Giovanni  Gaetani  Orsini) ;  1277-80. 

Martin  IV  (Smion  de  Brie)  ;  1281-85. 

Honorius  IV  (Giacomo  Savelli)  ;  1285-87. 

Nicholas  IV  (Girolamo  Masci) ;  1288-92. 

Cdestine  V  (Pietro  di  Murrone)  ;  1294. 

Boniface  VIII  (Benedetto  Gaetano)  ;  1294-1303. 

Benedict  XI  (Niccolo  Boccasini)  ;  1303-04. 

Cement  V  (Bertrand  de  Goth)  ;  1305-14. 

John  XXII  (Jacques  d'Euse)  ;  1316-34. 

Benedict  XII  (Jacques  Foumier)  ;  1334-42. 

Qement  VI  (Pierre  Roger)  ;  1342-52. 

Innocent  VI  (fitienne  Aubert)  ;  1352-62. 

Urban  V  (Guillaume  de  Grimoard,  or  Grimaud  de  Beauvoir); 

1362-70. 
Grq;ory  XI  (Pierre  Roger  de  Beaufort) ;  1370-78. 

569 


\ 


570  LIST  OF  POPES 


The  Greoi  Schim  of  the  West 

Rotnan  Popes  Avigonese  Popes 

Urban  VI  (Bartolommco  Prig-  cUmeni  VII  (Roger  of  Ge- 

nano)  ;  1378-89.  neva);  137S-94. 

Boniface    IX    (Picro    Toma-  Benedict     XIII     (Peter     de 

ccUi) ;  I390-I404.  Lwa);  1394-14^4^ 

Innocent  VII  (Cosimo  dd  Mig.  Clemefii  VIII ;  1424^29. 

liorati)  ;  1404-06.  Benedict  XIV;  1424. 

Gregory  XII   (Angdo  Cona-  p^p^  ^ected  by  the  CouncU  of 

no) ;  1406-09.  Basel 

AlcMnder    V     (Pictro    Phi-  p^n^  y  (Amadeus,  Duke  of 

largi)  ;  1409-10.  Savoy;)  1430-49. 

John       XXIII       (Baldassare  ^^'^  ^fi5^^- 

Cossa) ;  1410-15. 
Martin    V     (Odo    Cokmna); 

1417-31. 
Eugene  IV  (Gabriel  Condul- 

mieri) ;  I43I-47- 
Nicholas  V  (Tonmiaso  Parentucdfi  of  Sarzana) ;  I447-5S» 
Calixtus  III  (Alfonso  Borgia) ;  1455-58. 
Pius  II  (.Sneas  Sylvius  Piccolomfaii) ;  14S&-64. 
Paul  II  (Pietro  Barbo) ;  1464-71. 
Sixtus  Iv  (Francesco  della  Rovere) ;  1471-84. 
Innocent  VIII  (Giovanni  Battista  Cib6)  ;  1484-^. 
Alexander  VI  (Roderigo  Borgia)  ;  149^-1503. 
Pius  III  (Francesco  Todeschini  Piccolomini)  ;  1503. 
Julius  II  (Juliano  della  Rovere) ;  1503-13. 
Leo  X  (Giovanni  de'  Medici)  ;  1513-21. 
Adrian  VI  (Adrian  Dedel)  ;  1522-23. 
Qement  VII  (Giulio  de'  Medici)  ;  1523-34. 
Paul  III  (Alessandro  Famese)  ;  1534-49. 
Julius  III  (Giammaria  Ciocchi  del  Monte)  ;  1550-55. 
Marcellus  II  (Marcello  Cervini  degli  Spannochi) ;  1555. 
Paul  IV  (Giovanni  Pietro  Caraffa)  ;  1555-59. 
Pius  IV  (Giovanni  Angelo  Medici)  ;  1559-65. 
Pius  V  (Michele  Ghisleri)  ;  1566-72. 
Gregory  XIII  (Ugo  Buoncompagni)  ;  1572-85. 
Sixtus  V  (Felice  Peretti)  ;  1585-90. 
Urban  VII  (Giambattista  Castagna)  ;  1590. 
Gregory  XIV  (Niccolo  Sfondrati) ;  1590-91. 
Innocent  IX  (Giovanni  Antonio  Facchinetti)  ;  1591. 
Qement  VIII  (Ippolito  Aldobrandini)  ;  1 592-1605. 


A  LIST  OF  REFERENCES 

INTRODUCTORY  NOTE 

No  attempt  is  made  here  to  give  an  exhaustive  bibliography  of  the 
original  and  derived  sources  of  the  period  with  which  the  present 
work  deals.  There  is  neither  space  nor  necessity  for  such  a  bibliog- 
raphy between  the  covers  of  our  book.  The  lack  of  space  is  evident 
to  all  who  have  an  inkling  of  the  vast  literature  that  deals  with  the 
life  of  continental  Europe  and  the  European  colonies  in  the  three  and 
a  half  centuries  of  the  Renaissance  and  Reformation  period;  while 
the  lack  of  necessity  will  be  apparent  when  it  is  remembered  that  the 
book  is  addressed  not  to  scholars  engaged  in  research  work,  though 
the  hope  is  expressed  that  it  may  be  of  occasional  value  even  to  them, 
but  to  the  undergraduate  student  and  to  the  general  public.  Only 
here  and  there,  principally  in  the  chapters  that  have  to  do  with  litera- 
ture, are  original  sources  given,  those  sources  that  speak  to  us  of  their 
own  knowledge,  that  are  for  us  the  ultimate  resort  in  the  search  for 
information.  The  college  student  and  the  general  reader  are  more 
likely  to  need  references  to  derived  sources,  those  sources  that  are  in- 
debted to  others  for  their  knowledge ;  and  it  is,  therefore,  this  class  of 
sources  that  chiefly  comprises  our  list  of  references. 

1$  should  not  be  understood  that  original  sources  are  invariably 
superior  to  derived  sources.  An  original  source  is  trustworthy  only 
in  so  far  as  its  author  knew  the  truth,  was  animated  by  the  desire  to 
tell  the  truth,  and  possessed  the  capacity  to  tell  the  truth.  The  best 
derived  sources  are  based  not  merely  upon  one  original  source,  but 
upon  several  or  upon  all  of  them  that  relate  to  the  subject  with  which 
the  derived  source  has  to  do.  The  value  of  a  derived  source,  indeed, 
is  determined  by  the  extent  of  its  use  of  original  sources  and  by  the 
competency  of  its  study  of  them. 

The  bibliographies  of  the  first  three  volumes  of  The  Cambridge 
Modem  History,  those  in  the  pertinent  volumes  of  the  Histoire 
GinSrale  of  Lavisse  and  Rambaud,  and  those  appended  to  the  per- 
tinent articles  in  the  Encyclopedia  Britannica,  though  these  last  are 
often  erratic  and  incomplete,  are  excellent  guides  to  the  original 
sources  for  the  study  of  our  period. 

The  encyclopedias  are  so  comprehensive  in  their  scope  that  they 
will  be  found  to  contain  articles  on  almost  every  topic  with  which  the 
book  has  to  do,  and  so,  with  a  few  exceptions,  they  are  named  here 
once  for  all.  The  very  brevity  of  their  treatment  of  most  of  our  topics 
and  their  inclusive  character  often  make  these  articles  the  most  de- 
sirable preliminary  surveys  and  sometimes  the  most  effective  sum- 

571 


573  LIST  OF  REFERENCES 


Diaries.  Chief  of  the  encyclopedias  are,  in  English,  the  Bncyclapmdia 
BrUanmca,  not  without  serious  fatdts,  but  unrivaled  in  many  impor- 
tant respects,  and  The  Catholic  EncydopadHa,  an  autfaoritattre  ac- 
count of  Catholicism  in  all  its  phases  by  eminent  Catholic  writers  of 
many  countries;  in  French,  the  DicHonmdrg  Umoersgl,  of  Laronsse^ 
the  Nauveau  Larousse  lUuiiri,  and  the  Gnmd§  EmcydopUie;  in  Ger- 
man, Brockhaus's  KowversfMons  Lesikon,  which,  tli0fi|^  its  articles 
are  often  briefer  than  one  wishes,  is  veiy  d^endabk  wA  is  especially 
valuable  as  a  source  of  information  relating  to  German  topics  the 
Neues  KonversaHons-Lejricon,  of  Mqrer,  an  admirable  work  closely 
following  that  of  Brockhaus,  and,  more  copious  than  either  of  these, 
Ersch  and  Gruber's  AUgememe  EncyUofddk  der  Wissensehaften  md 
Kunste,  Herzog-Hauck's  ReaiemcyUopadie  fflr  ProUskmHsehe  The- 
ahgie,  and  Wetzer  and  Welte's  KirchenUsikM;  in  Italien,  tfie  Nmm 
Enciclopedta  Italiana;  in  Spanish,  the  Dicdonario  &Kiciopedieo 
Hispano-AmericaHo;  in  ScamUnavian  tongues,  the  NoriiMk  Cnnrntn^ 
Hans-Lexicon,  and  iht  Svenski  ConoersaHont'-Lesicam;  and,  in  Ruh 
Stan,  the  masterly  Russkiy  Entsikbpedicheskiy  Slovar,  to  which  all  tlie 
leading  Russian  scholars  in  letters  and  science  have  contributed.  En- 
cyclopedias have  also  been  published  in  the  Polish,  Hungarian,  Bo- 
hemian, and  Rumanian  languages. 

It  may  be  well  to  call  attention  here  to  the  ftct  that  the  general 
histories,  such  as  the  Histoire  GMrale,  of  Lavisse  and  Rambaud,  the 
Cambridge  Modem  History,  and,  when  the  last  voiume  is  publidied^ 
the  CanAridge  Medieval  History,  contain  matter  that  relatea  to  every 
chapter  of  our  hock. 

CHAPTER  I 

THE  PAPACY 

The  twelfth  chapter  of  Adams's  Civilisation  of  the  Middle  Ages  forms 
an  excellent  introduction  to  this  study;  and  good  chapters  are  to  be  found 
in  Pastor's  History  of  the  Popes,  a  learned  and  well-documented  work, 
but  unmistakably  clerical  in  spirit;  Creighton's  History  of  the  Papacy, 
attractively  written,  but  touched  here  and  there  by  an  insular  point  of 
view;  chapters  eighteen,  nineteen,  and  twenty  of  the  second  volume  of 
Sedgwick's  Italy  in  the  Thirteenth  Century;  Medley's  Church  and  Empire; 
Schaff's  History  of  the  Christian  Church;  and,  fairly  impartial,  but  incom- 
plete as  yet,  Grisar's  Storia  di  Roma  e  dei  Papi  net  Medio  Evo, 

More  special  works  are  Valois's  La  crise  religieuse  du  XV  sikcle; 
Mollat's  Les  Papes  d* Avignon;  Valois's  Le  Pape  et  le  Concile;  HaUays's 
Avignon  et  la  Comtat-Venaissin;  Tosti's  History  of  Pope  Boniface  Vlll, 
the  work  of  a  scholarly  Benedictine  monk;  Tosti's  Storia  del  ConciHo  di 
Costansa;  Gregorovius's  Rome  in  the  Middle  Ages,  an  interesting  work; 
rather  spectacular  at  times,  marred  here  and  there  by  slight  errors,  but 
unusually  valuable;  Rocquain's  Le  cour  de  Rome  et  f esprit  de  riforme 
avant  Luther;  Kitts's  In  the  Days  of  the  Councils;  Kitts's  Pope  John  the 
Twenty-Third,  two  books  that  may  be  cordially  commended;  Gardner's 
Saint  Catherine  of  Siena,  written  by  an  English  Catholic  scholar  who  has 
made  himself  a  master  of  the  period,  wholly  delightful  and  dqMndaUe, 
it  gives  an  impartial,  minute,  and  orderly  study  of  a  difficult  age;  Ragg's 


LIST  OF  REFERENCES  573 

Dante  and  His  Italy;  Villari's  Medieval  Italy;  Mackinnon's  History  of 
Modem  Liberty;  Lodgt's  Close  of  the  Middle  Ages;  Drumann's  Bonif actus 
yUI;  Boutaric's  La  France  sous  Philippe  le  Bel;  Dollinger's  Studies  in 
European  History,  the  work  of  an  independent  Catholic  scholar;  Salem- 
bier's  The  Great  Schism  of  the  West;  Robinson's  The  End  of  the  Middle 
Ages;  Wylic's  The  Council  of  Constance;  Wylie's  England  under  Henry 
IV,  for  Uie  stirring  chapters  on  the  Schism  and  the  Council  of  Pisa; 
Locke's  The  Age  of  the  Great  Schism;  and,  for  the  suppression  of  the 
Templars,  Lea's  History  of  the  Inquisition  of  the  Middle  Ages,  the  most 
masterly  treatment  of  its  general  subject,  and,  in  several  respects,  the 
greatest  contribution  of  America  to  historical  writing. 

CHAPTER  II 

POUTICAL  AFFAIRS  IN  THE  AGE  OF  THE  RENAISSANCE 

For  the  history  of  the  Germanic  Empire  the  best  survey  is  Bryce's 
Holy  Roman  Empire,  an  interesting  and  accurate  work  in  which  the 
essential  points  are  wdl  emphasized.  Other  books  are  Lindner's  Deutsche 
Geschichte  unter  den  Habsburgem  und  Luxemburgem;  Lindner's  Ge- 
schichte  des  deutschen  Reiches  unter  Konig  Wensel;  Lorenz's  Unter- 
suchungen  rur  Geschichte  des  13.  und  14.  lahrhundert;  Kntill's  Historische 
Geographie  Deutschlands  im  Mittelalter;  and  Henderson's  A  Short  His- 
tory of  Germany,  a  book  whose  lensth  belies  its  title  and  whose  learning 
and  literary  style  alike  commend  it  To  these  should  be  added  the 
cxceUent  biological  articles  in  the  AUgemeine  deutsche  Biographie, 
one  of  the  finest  works  of  its  kind,  in  which  the  word  deutsche  is  given 
an  exceedingly  broad  interpretation,  and  the  article  on  Occam  in  the 
corresponding  British  publication,  The  Dictionary  of  National  Biography, 
Briefer  studies  are  Lodge's  Close  of  the  Middle  Ages;  and  Dollinger's 
Studies  in  European  History.  Pattison's  Leading  Figures  of  European 
History  contains  a  chapter  on  Charles  IV. 

The  only  general  history  of  Austria  in  English  is  Coxe's  History  of 
the  House  of  Austria,  and  that  is  now  superannuated.  A  recent  book  of 
considerable  merit  is  Steed's  The  Hapsburg  Monarchy,  Leger's  History 
of  Austria-Hungary  is  translated  from  the  French ;  Dopsch's  Forschungen 
Mur  inneren  Geschichte  Osterreichs  is  still  incomplete;  and  Drage's  Aus- 
tria-Hungary is  a  recent  small  book. 

Of  the  books  that  have  to  do  with  the  rise  of  the  Swiss  Confederation 
the  best  is  Dierauer's  Geschichte  der  schweiserischen  Eidgenossenschaft, 
which,  in  considerable  detail,  gives  the  original  and  derived  sources  that 
are  the  bases  of  its  statements.  Other  works  are  McCrackan's  The  Rise 
of  the  Sxviss  Republic;  Van  Muyden's  Histoire  de  la  nation  Suisse; 
Oechsli's  Die  Anfdnge  der  sckweiserischen  Eidgenossenschaft;  Rilliet's 
Les  origines  de  la  confidSration  Suisse;  Sutz's  Schweiser-Geschichte  fOr 
das  Volk  ersdhlt,  which  is  popular  in  character;  Gobafs  Histoire  de  la 
Smsse  racontie  au  peuple;  and  Vulli^ty's  La  Suisse  d  travers  les  dges, 
a  brief  work,  attractively  written,  that  touches  upon  the  economic  and 
social  history  of  the  mountain  democracy. 

The  best  book  on  Bohemia  in  English  is  Ltitzow's  Bohemia;  and  an- 
other is  Gregor's  The  Story  of  Bohemia.  For  an  intensive  study  of  the 
early  history  of  the  country  Bachmann's  Geschichte  Bohmens,  which  is 
pro-German  in  its  sympathy,  is  indispensable.  The  three  books  by  Denis 
(jean  Hus;  Fin  de  I'independence  bohime;  and  La  Bohhne  depuis  la 


574  LIST  OI'  REFERENCES 

Montagne  blanche)  are  comprehensive  and  scholarly,  and  they  extend 
beyond  the  limits  of  our  study. 

The  story  of  Bavaria  may  be  traced  in  Riezler*s  Gtschichte  Baytrm; 
Brecher's  Darstellung  der  geschichtUchen  Entwickelung  des  bayriscken 
Staatsgebiets;  and  Heigel's  Die  Wittelsbacher,  In  Dollinger's  Studies  in 
European  History  there  is  a  chapter  devoted  to  the  House  of  WittelsbadL 
Important,  too,  is  Riezler's  Die  Kterarischen  Widersacher  der  Papste  Mur 
Zeit  Ludwigs  des  Baiers. 

The  affairs  of  other  Germanic  states  may  be  studied  in  Hausser's 
Geschichte  der  rheinischen  Pfals;  Droysen's  Geschichte  der  prenssischen 
Politik;  in  Prutz's  Preussische  Geschichte;  Bomhak's  Preussische  Stoats- 
und  Rechtsgeschichte,  especially  valuable  for  constitutional  matters; 
Stenzel  and  Bemer's  Geschichte  des  preussischen  Staats;  Bottiger's 
Geschichte  des  Kurstaates  und  Konigreichs  Sachsen;  Sturmhofel's 
Geschichte  der  sachsischen  Lande;  Jacobs's  Geschichte  der  Protfins 
Sachsen;  Heinemann's  Geschichte  von  Braunschweig  und  Hannover; 
Blok's  History  of  the  People  of  the  Netherlands;  Putnam's  Alsace  an6 
Lorraine;  Barante's  Histoire  des  dues  de  Bourgogne  de  la  maison  de 
Valois;  Barthold's  Geschichte  der  deutschen  Stadte;  Schlozer's  Die  Hansa; 
Danell's  Geschichte  der  deutschen  Hanse;  Zimmem's  The  Hansa  Towns; 
and,  for  the  Vehmic  courts,  Lindner's  Die  Verne. 

The  literature  of  the  Hundred  Years'  War  is  catalogued  in  Molinier's 
Sources  de  Vhistoire  de  France.  The  war  itself  is  dealt  with  in  the 
following  books:  Lodge's  Close  of  the  Middle  Ages;  Vickers's  England 
in  the  Later  Middle  Ages;  Tout's  The  History  of  England  from  the 
Accession  of  Richard  //  to  the  Death  of  Richard  HI;  liiacdonald*8  A 
History  of  France;  Lavisse's  L'Histoire  de  France,  one  of  the  greatest 
productions  of  the  brilliant  French  school  of  history,  written  by  fifteen 
different  authors;  Luce's  Bertrand  du  Guesclin;  Luce's  La  Jacquerie; 
Luce's  La  France  pendant  la  guerre  de  Cent  Ans;  Luce's  Jeanne  d'Arc; 
Anatole  France's  Joan  of  Arc,  written  with  all  the  author's  well  known 
literary  charm  and  skepticism  of  temperament;  Lang's  The  Maid  of 
France,  a  chivalrous  and  ardent  defense  of  the  deliverer  of  her  coimtry; 
LoweH's  Joan  of  Arc,  a  scholarly  and  beautiful  book,  still  the  best  life 
of  the  wonderful  girl  whose  story  it  recounts;  Richemond's /^anii ^  d'Arc, 
d'apres  les  documents  contemporains;  Hanotaux's  Jeanne  d'Arc;  and  Lea's 
Inquisition  of  the  Middle  Ages,  in  the  third  volume  of  which  will  be 
found  a  concise  and  vivid  account  of  Joan's  career.  For  the  more 
advanced  reader  the  great  work  of  Quicherat,  Le  P races  de  Jeanne  d'Arc, 
which  contains  nearly  all  the  original  sources  for  the  study  of  Joan,  will 
be  found  indispensable.  Important,  also,  is  Marty's  L'Histoire  de  Jeanne 
d'Arc. 

For  the  story  of  the  European  invasions  of  the  Turk  and  Mongol 
those  who  read  German  should  consult  Purgstall's  Geschichte  des  Os* 
manischen  Reiches,  a  monument  of  patient  research,  which,  despite  the 
fact  that  its  first  volume  appeared  almost  a  century  ago,  is  still  the  stand- 
ard work.  Based  upon  Purgstall's  great  work  are  Creasy's  History  of 
the  Ottoman  Turks;  and  Lane-Poole's  Turkey.  Abdurrahman  Sherefs 
Tarikh-i'devlet'i-osmanie,  in  Turkish,  is  said  to  be  careful  and  impartial 
Among  other  books  that  may  be  recommended  are  Miller's  The  Balkans; 
Remusat's  Relations  politiques  des  princes  chnUiens  avec  les  empereurs 
mongols;  Remusat's  Nouvcaux  milanges;  Remusat's  Mimoires  sur 
plusieurs  questions  relatives  d  la  giographie  de  I'Asie  centrale;  Lane- 


LIST  OF  REFERENCES  575 

Poole's  The  Hohammedan  Dynasties;  Freeman's  The  Ottoman  Power 
m  Europe;  Fiiilay's  The  Byzantine  and  Greek  Empires;  Finlay's  Greece 
and  the  Empire  of  Trebisond;  Grosvenor's  Constantinople;  Paparrigo- 
potilo's  Histoire  de  la  civilisation  hellifUque;  Gregorovius's  Geschichte 
der  Stadt  Athen  in  Mittelalter;  Pears's  The  Destruction  of  the  Greek 
Empire;  Sturdza's  La  terre  et  les  races  roumaines;  Xenopol's  Histoire 
des  Roumains;  Szildgyi's  History  of  the  Hungarian  Nation,  the  work  of 
many  collaborators,  not  written  in  English,  as  the  title  as  given  here 
would  seem  to  indicate,  but  in  Magyar;  Leger's  History  of  Austria- 
Hungary,  translated  from  the  French;  Vimb^r/s  Hungary  in  Ancient 
and  Modem  Times;  Acsad/s  History  of  the  Magyar  Empire;  KnatchbuU- 
Hugessen's  The  Political  Evolution  of  the  Hungarian  Nation;  Karam- 
sin's  Histoire  de  Vempire  russe,  translated  from  the  Russian;  MorfiU's 
Russia;  Rambaud's  History  of  Russia;  and  Munro's  Rise  of  the  Russian 
Empire,  The  most  important  work  in  English  on  the  Mongols  is 
Howorth's  History  of  the  Mongols  from  the  ninth  to  the  nineteenth 
Century.  Gibbon's  Decline  and  Fall  of  the  Roman  Empire  has  masterly 
chapters  dealing  with  this  topic. 

The  break-up  of  Italy  has  been  described  in  Sedgwick's  Italy  in  the 
Thirteenth  Century;  Sedgwick's  A  Short  History  of  Italy;  Smeaton's 
The  Medici;  Cantu's  Storia  degli  Italiani;  Gregorovius's  History  of  Rome 
in  the  Middle  Ages;  Balan's  Storia  d' Italia;  Cipolla's  Storia  delle  Signorie 
Italiane;  Duffy's  Tuscan  Republics;  Butler's  The  Lombard  Communes; 
Villari's  Medieval  Italy;  and  Sismondi's  Italian  Republics,  which  has  been 
completely  recast  and  supplemented  by  Boulting.  There  are  many  books 
relating  to  single  states  and  cities.  See  Bruni's  Historiarum  Floren- 
tinarum  Libri  XII.;  Machiavelli's  Historie  Horentine;  Guicciardini's  Storia 
^Italia;  Villari's  Machiavelli  and  his  Times;  Capponi's  Storia  di  Firenxe; 
Perrens's  Histoire  de  Florence;  Gardner's  Florence;  Oliphant's  Makers 
of  Florence;  Oliphant's  Makers  of  Venice;  ©key's  Venice;  Molmenti's 
The  Story  of  Venice;  Daru's  Storia  della  Republica  di  Venesia;  Hazlitt's 
The  Venetian  Republic;  Thayer's  Short  History  of  Venice;  Brown's  Ven- 
ice; Brown's  Studies  in  the  History  of  Venice;  Kretschmer's  Geschichte 
von  Venedig;  James's  Bologna;  Br6quigny's  Histoire  des  revolutions  de 
Gines;  Malleson's  Studies  from  Genoese  History;  Carla's  Storia  del  regno 
della  Due  Sicilie;  Crawford's  Southern  Italy  and  Sicily;  Vcrri's  Storia  di 
Milano;  Malaguzzi's  Milano;  Ady's  History  of  Milan  under  the  Sforza; 
Nqycs's  Milan;  Noyes's  Ferrara;  Symonds  and  Gordon's  Perugia;  Young's 
Rome;  Wiel's  Verona;  and  Gardner's  Siena,  To  these  may  be  added 
Browning's  Guelphs  and  Ghib  ines;  Browning's  TAe  Age  of  the  Condot- 
fieri;  and  Symon  and  Bensuf    I's  The  Renaissance. 

The  building  of  Spain  may  'C  studied  in  Altamira's  Historia  de  EspaHa; 
La  Fuente's  Estudios  critico^;  Dozy's  Spanish  Islam,  now  happily  avail- 
able in  an  adequate  English  translation ;  Lane-Poole's  The  Moors  in  Spain; 
Scott's  History  of  the  Moorish  Empire  in  Europe;  and  Hume's  Spain, 

Of  books  relating  to  Portugal  the  following  are  recommended:  Her- 
culano's  Historia  de  Portugal;  Barros's  Historia  da  administra^ado  pub- 
lica  em  Pertugal;  Stephens's  Portugal;  MacMurdo's  History  of  Portugal; 
and  Schafer's  Geschichte  von  Portugal, 


576  LIST  OF  REFERENCES 

CHAPTER  in 
THB  KEVIVAL  OF  THS  NATION 

Tte  bctt  CTpoiirion  of  natioiialhy  it  Renan's  essay  Qn^esi^^  qt^- 
— fioaf  And  Miillord*s  Tk$  NoHon  will  be  found  illnminafting  and 
iMpirim>  Soggestive  passages  will  be  found  in  Pollard's  Factors  w 
Mmi€rm  History;  and  in  Berger's  Dig  KuUuroufgabsn  dsr  Rsforma- 
tksL  dqiter  nine  of  Acton's  History  of  Freedom  is  hdpful;  und  ser- 
enl  chapters  in  Dewefs  Psychology  of  PoUHes  and  History  bear  upon 
ttie  sobject  and  are  provocative  of  tbouglit  See  also  tiie  first  two  duq^ 
left  in  Van  Qyke*s  Age  of  the  Rtnascsnes.  A  brief  but  eycdlent 
warms  of  tiie  rise  of  £e  principal  modem  nations  is  to  be  fonnd  in 
Wibott*a  Tks  State;  and  more  detailed  accounts  of  the  early  history  c^ 
dM  diieienl  nations  that  were  in  existence  in  tiie  Renaisunce  p^iod 
art  to  be  gatiiered  from  the  articles  dealing  with  those  conntriea  in  the 
MKydopedia^  in  the  various  national  histories,  and  in  the  laiser  general 


CHAPTER  IV 

TBB  REVIVAL  OP  THB  INDIVIDUAL 

Tte  ptoneer  book  on  this  subject,  and  still  one  of  tiie  best^  is  Bmck* 
hHdft  The  CioiHaation  of  lft#  Period  of  tke  Remdsswue  m  Italy. 
A  wAftt  iriio  has  devdc^wd  Burckhardt's  germinal  idea  is  Gcbhart. 
S»  tif*^%  his  Los  origines  de  la  Renmssemce  em  ItaMe,  his  Coniems 
JhianKlisi  dm  Mioyem  Age,  and  hb  Los  Jardins  de  FHistoire.  A  trans- 
Mm  of  a  part  of  one  of  Gebhart's  books  that  bears  upon  tiiis  snb- 

eia  to  be  found  in  Munro  and  SeOery's  Medieval  CioiUMatiom,    The 
fi^cs  <Kf  Hudson's  Story  of  the  Renaissamce  and  the  first  chapter 
^  Mackianon's  History  of  Modem  Liberty  touch  upon  our  topic;  and 
that  is  suggestive  will  be  found  in  Symonds's  Age  of  the  Despots; 
:%  The  Revival  of  Learning;  Symonds's  The  Fi$%e  Arts;  Voigt's 
W^kderbeUlmng  des  classischen  Alterthums;  Geiger's  Renaissance  und 
:  Korting^s  Geschkhte  der  LUteratnr  Italiens  im  Zeitalter 
Jl^fmaUsance:  Robinson  and  Rolfe*s  Petrarch;  and  Sedgwick's  Italy  in 

Z%irteenth  Century,  especially  chapter  eleven  of  the  second  volume. 

:)t  mxM  be  well  also,  to  read  Voysey's  Individuality;  and  Holmes's 
pamphlet  The  Tarn  and    he  Lake, 

great  exponent  of  indiv'  uality  among  the  political  rulers  at 
gc  the  Middle  Ages  may  t     studied  in  Hampe's  Friedrich  II; 
^L^  KiB^loo*s  History  of  Frederic    f. 
1%  te  wandering  scholars  see  Haezner's  GoUardendichtung  und  die 
>  Die  Vaganten  und  ihr  "  Orden ";  and  Symonds's  Wine, 
Song. 

^A  tile  Albigenses  are  well  treated  in  De  Mantejrer's  La 

^  I**  d  /^  sUcle;  Marieton's  La  Terre  provenqdle;  Schmidt's 

it^Cbrtorrx  ou  Albigeois;  and  Alphandery's  Les  idees  morales 

es  latins  au  debut  du  XIII*  siicle.    And  for  the  trouba- 

(revised  by  Bartsch)  Leben  und  Werke  der  Troubadours; 

^^^ov^iJat  j^pt  authors.  Die  Poesie  der  Troubadours.    See  also  Meyer's 

■at^^^jJ^  THuAaionrs  de  la  Provence;  AppcYs  Provensalische  chresto- 

^1^^  ^^^kti^  ^*  Troubadours;  and  Smith's  The  Trombadomrs  mt 


LIST  OF  REFERENCES  577 

For  the  city  rq)ublics  and  the  despots  see  Boulting's  edition  of  Sis- 
mondi's  History  of  the  Italian  Republics,  and  Symonds's  Age  of  the 
Despots. 

CHAPTER  V 

THE  REVIVAL  OF  LITERATURE 

No  Other  writer  has  so  well  demonstrated  the  reasons  why  Italy, 
and  not  France,  became  the  birthplace  of  the  Renaissance  as  Gebhart  has 
done  in  his  Les  origines  de  la  Renaissance  en  Italic, 

Much  that  relates  to  the  revival  of  literature  is  to  be  found  in  the 
general  histories  of  the  several  countries  in  which  that  revival  took  place. 
There  are  many  excellent  books  for  the  study  of  Italian  literature  and 
the  revival  of  learning  in  Italy.  The  early  volumes  of  the  Storia  let- 
teraria  d'  Italia  scritta  da  una  socictd  di  professori  are  scholarly  and 
interesting.  They  are  Giussani's  Letter atur a  romana;  Novati*s  Ongini 
delta  lingua;  Zingarelli's  Dante;  Volpi's  //  Trecento;  and  Rossi's  11 
Quattrocento,  Of  great  interest  and  value  is  Monnier's  Le  Quattrocento; 
and  a  more  recent  book,  written  with  unusual  charm  and  insight,  is 
Hauvette's  Littirature  italienne.  Other  recent  books  that  may  be  recom- 
mended are  Rossi's  Storia  delta  letteratura  italiana;  Flamini's  Compendia 
di  storia  delta  letteratura  italiana.  Useful  still  are  the  two  older  histories 
of  Italian  literature  by  Giudici  and  by  De  Sanctis,  the  latter  having  a 
distinct  literary  value.  In  German  there  are  the  two  works  by  Bartoli 
and  Gaspary,  a  part  of  the  former  having  been  translated  into  English; 
and  two  later  works  are  those  by  Wilse-Persopo  and  by  Casini.  In  Eng- 
lish there  are  three  brief  books;  Gamett's  History  of  Italian  Literature; 
Castle's  Italian  Literature;  and  Everett's  The  Italian  Poets  Since  Dante, 
The  last  of  these  is  especially  valuable  because  it  contains  verse  transla- 
tions and  its  literary  criticisms  succeed  unusually  well  in  revealing  the 
characteristic  qualities  of  the  various  writers  with  which  it  deals.  A 
larger  book  in  English  is  Symonds's  Italian  Literature,  vivid  and  full  of 
color,  written  by  a  gifted  and  ardent  lover  of  beauty  who  devoted  him- 
self under  difficult  circumstances  to  an  intensive  study  of  the  Renaissance. 
There  are  good  chapters  in  Symon  and  Bensusan's  The  Renaissance  and 
its  Makers;  and  Whitcomb's  Source  Book  of  the  Italian  Renaissance  is 
a  useful  body  of  translations  from  Italian  writers  of  this  time. 

A  complete  edition  of  Dante's  works  has  been  published  by  the  Oxford 
University  Press,  Tutte  le  Opere  di  Dante  Aligheri.  There  are  two 
excellent  translations  of  the  Commedia  into  English  prose,  one  by  Norton 
and  the  other  by  Tozer;  and  two  translations  into  English  blank  verse, 
one  by  Gary  and  the  odier  by  Longfellow,  are  to  be  commended.  The 
Vita  Nuova  has  been  done  into  English  by  Norton  and  by  Rossetti;  and 
the  De  monarchic  has  been  translated  into  our  tongue  by  Church,  by 
Wicksteed,  and  by  Henry.  An  admirable  introduction  to  the  study  of 
the  great  poet  is  Church's  Dante  and  other  Essays,  Excellent,  too,  are 
Gardner's  Dante;  Dinsmore's  Teachings  of  Dante;  Dinsmore's  Aids  to 
the  Study  of  Dante;  Symonds's  Introduction  to  the  Study  of  Dante; 
Scartazzini's  A  Companion  to  Dante;  Gardner's  Dante's  Ten  Heavens; 
Gardner's  Dante  and  the  Mystics;  Harris's  Spiritual  Sense  of  Dante's 
Divina  Commedia;  Moore's  Studies  in  Dante,  three  volumes  of  scholarly 
essays  by  the  editor  of  the  Oxford  edition  of  Dante's  works  that  will  be 
found  particularly  helpful  in  difficult  passages;  Rossetti's  A  Shadow  of 


S78  LIST  OF  REFERENCES 


Dante,  a  fine  analysis  of  the  great  epic,  and  a  study  of  the  poet's  life,  by 
the  daughter  of  the  English  poet ;  Wyld's  The  Dread  Inferno,  despite  the 
fact  that  it  deals  only  with  the  first  part  of  the  Commedia,  is  an  exceed- 
ingly helpful  preface  to  the  entire  poem.  One  of  the  most  penetrating 
studies  of  Dante  is  to  be  found  in  Gebhart*s  Italie  Mystique;  and  the  same 
author's  Les  origines  de  la  Renaissance  en  Italie  contains  passages  that 
relate  to  all  the  early  Italian  writers  of  note. 

Of  the  books  in  foreign  languages  that  relate  to  Petrarch  those  by 
Koerting,  De  Sade,  Badelli,  Fracassetti,  Domenico  Rossetti,  Mexi^res,  and 
De  Nolhac  will  be  found  helpful.  One  of  De  Nolhac's  books,  Petrarch 
and  the  Ancient  World,  has  been  put  into  English.  And  in  English  ^ere 
are,  among  others,  Hollway-Calthrop's  Petrarch,  written  with  intimate 
knowledge  of  the  subject  and  in  a  lucid  and  alluring  style;  Robinson  and 
Rolfe's  Petrarch  the  first  Modem  Scholar  and  Man  of  Letters,  which 
gives  a  vivid  presentation  of  the  conditions  of  the  period  of  the  early 
Renaissance  in  Italy ;  and  Jerrold's  Francesco  Petrarca,  Poet  and  Huwum- 
ist. 

In  Italian  there  are  lives  of  Boccaccio  by  Tiraboschi,  Mazzuchelli,  and 
Baldelli.  In  German  there  is  one  by  Landau,  and  a  much  better  one  by 
Koerting.  And  in  English,  in  addition  to  Symonds's  Giovanni  Boccaccio 
as  Man  and  Author,  there  is  a  very  satisfactory  one  by  Hutton.  Not  to 
be  overlooked  is  a  fine  essay  on  Boccaccio  by  Ker,  in  Studies  in  European 
Literature  (The  Taylorian  Lectures,  1889-99),  His  relation  to  the  revival 
of  letters,  as  well  as  that  of  Petrarch,  is  treated  in  Voigt's  Die  Wieder- 
belebung  des  classischen  Alterthums,  and  in  Sandys's  History  of  Classical 
Scholarship.  A  dependable  translation  of  The  Decameron  is  that  by  John 
Payne. 

The  authoritative  modem  edition  of  Chaucer's  works  is  that  edited  by 
Skeat  and  published  by  the  Clarendon  Press.  In  The  Modem  Reader^s 
Chaucer  the  complete  works  of  the  poet  have  been  put  into  modem  Eng- 
lish by  Tatlock  and  MacKaye.  The  question  as  to  what  works  may  rightly 
be  regarded  as  Chaucer's  is  discussed  in  The  Chaucer  Canon  by  Skeat 
Helpful  criticism  of  Chaucer's  work  are  to  be  found  in  The  Cambridge 
History  of  English  Literature;  in  Newcomer's  English  Literature,  an  elo- 
quent little  book  that,  in  itself,  is  a  fine  piece  of  literature;  in  Chaucer, 
an  admirable  primer  by  Pollard;  and,  at  greater  length,  in  Lounsbury's 
Studies  in  Chaucer.  Coulton's  Chaucer  and  his  England  is  especially 
valuable  as  an  exposition  of  the  social  conditions  in  England  at  the  end 
of  the  fourteenth  century. 

The  revival  of  learning  can  be  studied  in  the  book  by  Voigt  whose 
title  we  have  just  given,  and  in  his  Enea  Silvio  und  sein  Zeitalter;  and 
in  English  in  Symonds's  The  Revival  of  Learning;  in  the  first  volume  of 
The  Cambridge  Modern  History;  in  Woodward's  Studies  in  Education 
during  the  age  of  the  Renaissance;  and  in  the  scholarly  History  of  Clas- 
sical Scholarship  by  Sandys. 

The  second  creative  period  in  Italian  literature  and  the  development  of 
humanism  are  treated  in  the  histories  of  Italian  literature  already  men- 
tioned. To  these  should  be  added  the  lives  of  Lorenzo  de'  Medici  by 
Roscoe,  Armstrong,  and  Horsburgh,  the  last  of  which  is  an  exceptionally 
useful  book;  and  Pattison's  Leading  Figures  in  European  History,  which 
contains  an  essay  on  Lorenzo.  See  also  Ross's  Lives  of  the  Medici  from 
their  Letters.  A  biography  of  Pico  della  Mirandola  was  written  by  his 
nephew  and  translated  into  English  by  Sir  Thomas  More;  it  was  re- 
printed in  1890  with  a  prefatory  study  by  Rigg.     The  charming  and 


LIST  OF  REFERENCES  579 


iUuminating  study  of  the  young  philosopher  in  Pater's  Renaissance  in 
Italy  should  not  be  overlooked.  Boulting's  ^neas  Silvius  is  a  recent 
study  of  one  of  the  humanist  Popes;  and  still  another  good  study  of 
.£iieas  Silvius  is  Ady's  Pius  II,  the  humanist  Pope.  The  other  Popes 
who  were  patrons  of  art  and  letters  can  be  studied  in  any  of  the  general 
histories  and  in  the  histories  of  the  Papacy  already  mentioned.  The 
Italian  poems  of  Poliziano  have  been  edited  by  Carducci;  and  his  writ- 
ings in  prose  and  in  Greek  and  Latin  have  been  edited  by  Del  Lungo. 
Translations  from  his  works  are  to  be  found  in  Symonds's  Sketches  and 
Studies  in  Italy,  The  political  and  social  background  of  all  this  artistic 
and  literary  activity  is  set  forth  in  The  Cambridge  Modern  History;  in 
Villari's  Machiavelli  and  his  Times;  in  Capponi's  Storia  delta  Republica 
di  Pirense;  in  Perrens's  La  civilization  Horentine;  in  Janitschek's  Die 
GeseUschafi  der  Renaissance  in  Italien;  in  Hyett's  Florence;  in  Gebhart*s 
Florence;  and  in  the  other  histories  of  the  various  Italian  towns. 

Humanism  beyond  the  Alps  is  treated  in  The  Cambridge  Modern  His- 
tory, Extracts  from  original  sources  are  given  in  Whitcomb's  Source 
Book  of  the  German  Renaissance, 

CHAPTER  VI 
THE   REVIVAL  OF  ART 

The  architecture  of  the  early  Renaissance  in  Italy  is  described  in 
Hamlin's  brief  History  of  Architecture;  in  Sturgis's  History  of  Archi- 
tecture; in  Simpson's  A  History  of  Architectural  Development;  and 
in  the  scholarly  but  unsympathetic  Character  of  Renaissance  Architect 
ture  by  Moore.  Suggestive  snatches  of  information  are  to  be  found  in 
Peabod/s  delightful  book  An  Architect's  Sketch  Book,  Of  great  im- 
portance, one  is  almost  tempted  to  say  indispensable,  is  the  chapter  on 
"The  Rise  of  the  Renaissance"  in  Phillipps's  The  Works  of  Man,  an 
illuminating  book.  Of  the  monographs  on  the  three  leading  architects 
of  the  early  Italian  Renaissance  the  following  are  commended:  Von 
Fabriczy's  Filippo  Brunelleschi;  Mancini's  Vita  di  Alberti;  and  Semper's 
Donato  Bramante. 

Cox's  Old  Masters  and  New  contains  an  essay  on  the  sculptors  of  this 
time;  and  Freeman's  Italian  Sculpture  of  the  Renaissance  is  well  adapted 
for  a  preliminary  study  of  the  subject.  Other  books  that  deal  with  the 
revival  of  sculpture  in  Italy  are  Symonds's  The  Fine  Arts;  Waters's 
Italian  Sculptors;  Bode's  Florentine  Sculptors  of  the  Renaissance;  and 
Balcarres's  The  Evolution  of  Italian  Sculpture,  An  excellent  book,  to 
which  we  shall  refer  later  on  with  enthusiasm,  Mornings  with  Masters 
of  An,  by  Powers,  contains  a  fine  chapter  on  Donatello  and  another  on 
GhibertL  Written  with  the  suavity  that  is  characteristic  of  kis  style. 
Pater  has  devoted  a  chapter  to  Luca  della  Robbia  in  his  Renaissance  in 
Italy.  The  following  books  relate  to  individual  sculptors:  Comeliiis's 
Jacopo  della  Quercia;  Balcarres's  Donatello;  Meyer's  Donatello,  translated 
from  the  German;  Cruttwell's  Donatello;  Cruttwell's  Luca  and  Andrea 
della  Robbia  and  their  Successors;  Reymond's  Les  della  Robbia;  and 
Marquand's  Luca  della  Robbia,  a  masterly  work  that  supersedes  everything 
else  on  the  subject. 

The  revised  edition  of  Bryan's  Dictionary  of  Painters  and  Engravers, 
which,  unfortunately,  is  devoid  of  references,  contains  brief  biographies 
of  Uie  painters,  and  criticisms  of  their  art,  with  whom  we  have  to  deal 


here  and  in  our  two  subsequent  chapters  devoted  to  an.  A  great  deal 
of  our  uiformation  about  the  lives  of  the  early  Italian  artists  is  obtained 
from  Vasari  (1511-71),  whose  great  work  Dette  yite  de"  piA  eccetltnti 
pittori,  scultori,  ed  architettoti  was  hrst  published  in  1550.  Modem  re- 
search has  disproved  man;  of  his  biographical  details;  and  his  criticisms, 
remarkable  as  they  are  for  a  man  of  his  time,  seem  somewhat  thin  when 
compared  with  those  of  our  own  time;  but,  with  all  this,  the  work  re- 
mains a  classic  that  must  be  consulted  in  any  thorough  study  of  the  art 
of  llie  Renaissance  in  Italy.  There  is  a  recent  translation  into  English 
by  Uc  Vere.  A  German  edition,  by  Frey,  with  the  original  text  anno- 
tated with  characteristic  German  completeness,  is  in  course  of  publication 
and  promises  to  render  all  previous  editions  obsolete.  The  recent  edition 
of  Crowe  and  Cavalcaselle's  History  of  Painting  in  Italy  by  Langton 
Douglas  is  inaccurate  here  and  there,  and  it  is  rather  too  polemical,  bui 
it  contains  much  information  that  is  very  useful  Venturi's  Sloria  dtiT 
Arte  Ilaliana  is  uneven  in  merit  hut  valuable.  Michel's  Histoiff  dt  t  Art 
is  sympathetic  and  discriminating;  Symonds  is  at  his  best  in  his  volume 
on  The  Fine  Arts;  Taine's  Philosophy  of  Art  in  Italy  is  subtle  and  sug- 
gestive as  to  the  influence  of  environment  upon  art ;  and  Powers's  Morn- 
ings with  Masters  of  Art  is  one  of  the  very  best  books  with  which  to 
begin  the  study  of  Italian  painting.  Berenson's  three  books,  Florintine 
Painters  of  the  Renaissance,  Central  Italian  Painters  of  the  Renaissance, 
and  Venetian  Painters  of  the  Renaissance,  are  the  work  of  an  original 
mind.  Caffin's  How  to  Study  Pictures  is  a  popular  and  useful  intro- 
ductory study;  and  MacFall's  A  History  of  Painting  is  the  best  of  the 
recent  general  histories  of  the  subject.  Cole's  Old  Italian  Masters,  illus- 
trated with  wood-cuts  that  give  an  unusually  faithful  idea  of  the  original 
paintings  in  whose  presence  they  were  made,  is  also  an  admirable  book 
10  begin  with.  Not  to  be  overlooked  is  Him's  The  Sacred  Shrine,  a 
study  of  the  poetry  and  art  of  the  Catholic  Church,  which,  though  it 
relates  vtry  largely  to  the  Middle  Ages,  has  much  of  \'alue  for  tlie 
understanding  of  the  period  of  the  Renaissance  and  Reformation.  For 
the  beginnings  of  Italian  art  no  better  introduction  can  be  found  tfaan 
Gebhart's  charming  Les  origines  de  la  Renaissance  en  ItaKe;  and  for 
the  social  background  of  the  time  Janitschek's  Die  Geseltschafi  dtr 
Renaissance  in  Italien  nnd  die  Knnst  ia  usefuL  From  the  flood  of  mono- 
graphs on  the  individual  painters  of  our  period  the  following  are  selected: 
Perkins's  Giotto;  Douglas's  Giotto;  Yriarte's  Tommaso  dei  Cuidi  (Mxsac- 
cio) ;  Douglas's  Fra  Angelica;  Strutt's  Filippo  Lippi;  Kristeller's  Man- 
tegna;  Home's  Botticelli,  the  most  important  book  upon  its  subject; 
Gebhart's  Botticelli;  Binyon'j  admirable  study  The  Art  of  BotticelU; 
Oppe's  excellently  written  and  finely  illustrated  Botticelli;  Cruttwell's  Siff- 
norelli;  Davies's  Ghirlandaio;  Hauvette's  Ghirlandajo,  in  French;  William- 
son's Perugino;  and  Hutton's  Cities  of  Utnbria,  which  contains  good 
chapters  upon  Umbrian  art  and  Perugino.  Botticelli's  passionless  paint- 
ing is  the  subject  of  one  of  Pater's  languorous  chapters. 

CHAPTER  VII 

THE  REVIVAL  OF  SQENCE 

The  childish  conception  of  sdence  in  medieval  Christendom  is  poi^ 
trayed  in  the  books  written  on  the  subject  in  that  period.  One  of 
these  is  the  D«  aaturis  rerum  of  Alexander  of  Neckam   (1157-U17}, 


LIST  OF  REFERENCES  581 

an  English  schoolman  and  man  of  science  who  probably  compiled  his 
work  about  ii8a  The  most  famous  encyclopedia  of  the  Middle  Ages 
is  the  Speculum  Majus  of  Vincent  of  Beauvais  (ii90?-i264?),  a  great 
compendium  of  ail  the  knowledge  of  the  time,  which  consists  of  four 
parts,  the  last  being  quite  evidently  the  work  of  a  later  writer.  The  first 
part,  the  Speculum  Naturale,  is  a  summary  of  all  the  natural  history 
known  to  Latin  Christendom  about  the  middle  of  the  thirteenth  century; 
the  second  part,  the  Speculum  Doctrinale,  deals  with  the  mechanic  arts 
as  well  as  with  the  philosophy,  logic,  mathematics,  and  inorganic  science 
of  the  time ;  while  the  third  part,  the  Speculum  Historiale,  is,  as  the  name 
implies,  a  "mirror"  of  history.  Langlois,  in  La  Connaissance  de  la 
Nature  et  du  Monde  au  Moyen  Age,  has  reprinted  six  medieval  writings, 
most  of  which  deal  with  the  physical  environment  of  man,  that  help  to 
afford  us  an  idea  of  the  scientific  knowledge  current  in  the  thirteenth 
century. 

There  are  two  excellent  books  in  English  from  which  one  may  gather 
the  medieval  point  of  view  and  learn  the  slow  and  painful  steps  by 
which  men  rose  out  of  it  into  the  freer  and  more  truthful  attitude  of  our 
own  time.  They  are  White's  History  of  the  Warfare  of  Science  with 
Theology  in  Christendom;  and  Taylor's  The  Medieval  Mind.  Somewhat 
out  of  date,  but  still  useful,  is  Draper's  History  of  the  Intellectual  Develop- 
ment of  Europe;  and  his  History  of  the  Conflict  between  Religion  and 
Science,  The  medieval  attitude  is  given  an  able  exposition  in  Von 
Eicken's  Geschichte  und  System  der  mittelalterlichen  Weltanschauung, 
Other  books  that  deal  in  a  general  way  with  our  topic  are  Hudson's 
The  Story  of  the  Renaissance;  Berger's  Die  Kulturaufgaben  der  Reformat 
Hon;  and  Allbutt's  Science  and  Medieval  Thought, 

For  the  restoration  of  Aristotle  one  may  consult  the  first  two  chapters 
of  Douglas's  Pietro  Pomponazzi;  Valois's  Guillaume  d*  Auvergne;  Jour- 
dain's  Excursions  historiques  et  philosophiques  d  trovers  le  moyen  &ge; 
Renan's  Averrods  et  fAverrdtsme;  and  De  Boer's  History  of  Philosophy 
in  Islam,  The  recovery  of  some  of  the  lost  books  of  Aristotle  and  its 
effect  upon  the  thought  and  science  of  the  time  may,  of  course,  be  studied 
in  the  histories  of  philosophy.  Good  general  histories  of  philosophy  are 
those  by  Erdmann,  Ueberweg,  and  Windelband;  and  good  histories  of 
philosophy  in  the  Middle  Ages  are  those  by  Haureau,  Stockl,  and  Werner. 
To  these  may  be  added  the  history  of  materialism  by  Lange.  There  is  a 
brief  essay  on  Lull  in  Gebhart's  La  Vieille  Eglise. 

For  the  revival  of  research  and  of  criticism  in  philosophy  one  may  go 
to  the  article  on  **  Petrarch  and  the  beginning  of  modern  Science,"  in  the 
first  volume  of  The  Yale  Review,  by  George  Burton  Adams;  and  to  that 
on  "Des  progres  des  sciences  historiques  en  France  depuis  le  i(fi  siecle," 
by  Monod,  in  the  first  volume  of  the  Revue  Historique,  And  there  are 
passages  relevant  to  the  same  subject  in  Von  Wegele's  Geschichte  der 
deutschen  Historiographie,  and  in  Bemheim's  Lehrbuch  der  historischen 
Methode,  In  Langlois's  Manuel  de  bibliographie  historique  one  will  find 
a  general  survey  of  the  whole  apparatus  of  historical  research. 

Much  that  relates  to  the  revival  of  science  is  to  be  found  in  Rashdall's 
The  Universities  of  Europe  in  the  Middle  Ages,  now  unfortunately  out  of 
print;  in  Lecky's  History  of  the  Rise  and  Influence  of  Rationalism  in 
Europe;  in  Whewell's  History  of  the  Inductive  Sciences;  in  Maugain's 
Etude  sur  fh^olution  intellectuelle  de  Fltalie;  and  in  White's  History 
of  the  Warfare  of  Science  with  Theology,  The  best  history  of  mathe- 
matics is  Cantor's  Vorlesungen  uber  Geschichte  der  Mathematik;  and  a 


582  LIST  OF  REFERENCES 


briefer  one  is  Ball's  A  Short  History  of  Mathematics.  On  astroooii^ 
there  are  two  books  by  Delambre,  Histoire  de  Vastronomie  au  moyen  dge, 
and  Histoire  de  tastronomie  modeme.  In  German  there  are  Madler't 
Geschichte  der  Himmelskunde ;  and  Wolf's  Geschichte  der  Asironomie. 
While  in  English  one  may  turn  to  Berry's  History  of  Astronomy,  Not 
to  be  overlooked  is  Fahie's  Galileo.  In  other  sciences  tiiere  are  CajorTt 
History  of  Physics;  Kopp's  Geschichte  der  Chemie;  Ladenbnrg's  Entwiek- 
lungsgeschichte  de  Chemie;  Meyer's  History  of  Chemistry;  Cams's 
Geschichte  der  Zoologie;  and  Sachs's  History  of  Botany.  There  is  no 
satisfactory  history  of  anatomy,  but  a  fairly  complete  summary  is  to  be 
found  in  the  first  volume  of  The  Reference  Handbook  of  Medical  Sciences 
(New  York;  1900);  and  to  this  should  be  added  the  opening  pages  of 
Roth's  Versalius.  Osier's  Michael  Servetus  contains  useful  information 
and  valuable  illustrations.  Baas's  History  of  Medicine  may  be  recom- 
mended; and  there  are  others  by  Daremberg,  Haser  and  Park. 

No  satisfactory  general  history  of  inventions  has  yet  been  written,  but 
much  may  be  learned  from  the  articles  on  the  various  inventions  in  the 
encyclopedias  and  from  those  upon  the  inventors.  The  best  work  on  the 
book-making  of  the  Middle  Ages  is  Wattenbach's  Das  Schriftwesen  im 
Mittelalter;  and  for  the  changes  incident  to  the  invention  of  printing  one 
should  read  the  first  volume  of  Kapp's  Geschichte  des  deutschen  Buck- 
handels.  Other  books  in  German  that  deal  at  length  and  in  a  trustworthy 
manner  with  the  subject  are  Hartwig's  Festschrift  sum  fUnfhundert- 
jdhrigen  Geburtstag  von  lohann  Gutenberg;  Schwenke's  Untersuchungen 
sur  Geschichte  des  ersten  Buchdrucks;  Borckel's  Gutenberg;  and  Borckel's 
Gutenberg  und  seine  berUhmten  Nachfolger  in  ersten  Jahrhundert  der 
Typographic,  The  best  English  history  of  the  art  of  printing  is  De 
Vinne's  The  Invention  of  Printing;  and  a  briefer  one  is  Hoe's  A  Short 
History  of  the  Printing  Press,  An  able  and  interesting  work  that  deals 
with  the  whole  subject  of  book-making  at  the  time  of  our  study  is  Put- 
nam's Books  and  their  makers  during  the  Middle  Ages. 

CHAPTER  Vni 

THE  REVIVAL  OF  CONSCIENCE 

It  would  be  well  at  the  outset  of  this  study  to  obtain  as  correct  an 
understanding  as  possible  of  the  schoolmen's  notion  of  conscientia  and 
of  synderesis.  Perhaps  the  most  convenient  modern  discussion  of  these 
medieval  ideas  is  to  be  found  in  Gass's  Die  Lehre  vom  Gewissen,  and 
in  his  Geschichte  der  Christlichen  Ethik.  For  the  insistence  of  medi- 
eval authorities  upon  implicit  faith,  and  for  the  beginnings  of  the  gradual 
return  to  reliance  upon  conscience,  Renter's  Geschichte  der  religibsen 
Aufklarung  im  Mittelalter  is  still  of  value;  but  Hoffmann's  Die  Lehre 
von  der  Fides  Implicita  is  indispensable.  An  admirable  introduction  to 
the  subject  of  our  entire  study  is  the  chapter  on  "  Reform  before  the 
Reformation"  in  Beard's  eloquent  The  Reformation  of  the  Sixteenth 
Century. 

For  the  first  group  of  critics,  the  Goliardi,  see,  first  of  all,  the  collection 
of  some  of  their  songs  published  under  the  title  of  Carmina  Burana,  and 
those  of  them  that  were  translated  into  English  by  John  Addington 
Symonds  in  his  little  volume  Wine,  Women,  and  Song.  These  wandering 
students  have  been  dealt  with  at  some  length  in  Haezner's  Goliardendich- 
tung  und  die  Satire;  and  in  Spiegel's  Die  Vaganten  und  ihr  "  Orden,** 


i*MMi 


LIST  OF  REFERENCES  583 

The  final  chapter  in  Gebhart's  illuminating  L'ltalie  Mystique  is  a  pene- 
trating discussion  of  Dante's  attitude  toward  the  religious  and  ethical 
questions  of  the  time.  References  to  the  writings  of  Dante,  to  those  of 
Petrarch,  to  those  of  Boccaccio,  and  to  those  of  Chaucer,  and  to  writings 
about  them,  are  given  in  our  list  of  books  for  the  chapter  on  the  revival 
of  literature.  For  Valla,  the  most  systematic  of  all  the  critics,  see  Man- 
dni's  Vita  di  Lorenzo  Valla;  and  Wolff's  Lorenzo  Valla,  Much  that  is 
pertinent  to  our  topic  is  to  be  found  in  the  histories  of  philosophy  and 
the  histories  of  literature;  and  Owen's  The  Skeptics  of  the  Italian 
Renaissance  is  particularly  useful 

The  monastic,  papal,  and  conciliar  reformers  are  treated  in  the  church 
histories  and  in  the  histories  of  the  Papacy,  especially  those  by  Creighton 
and  Pastor.  The  articles  on  the  individual  reformers  in  the  encyclo- 
pedias should  be  consulted.  The  councils  are  dealt  with  in  Von  Hefele't 
ConcUiengeschichte;  in  Du  Bose's  The  Ecumenical  Councils;  in  Hamack's 
History  of  Dogma;  and  in  Loof  s's  Leitfaden  der  Dogmengeschichte.  And 
for  the  papal  reformers  see  especially  Rocquain's  La  cour  de  Rome  et 
f esprit  de  reform  avant  Luther, 

For  the  biblical  reformers  one  may  read,  in  addition  to  the  church 
histories,  Ullmann's  Reformers  before  the  Reformation;  and  Hahn's  Ge- 
schichte  der  Ketzer  im  Mittelalter,  The  Waldenses  are  treated  in 
Schmidt's  Histoire  des  Cathares;  Dieckhoffs  Die  Waldenser  im  Mittel- 
alter; Preger's  Beitrdge  zur  Geschichte  der  Waldesier;  Cantu's  Gli  Eretici 
in  Italia;  Comba's  Storia  delta  Ri forma  in  Italia;  Tocco's  L'Eresia  nel 
medio  evo;  and  in  Lea's  monumental  History  of  the  Inquisition  of  the 
Middle  Ages.  The  best  work  on  the  followers  of  Wydiffe  is  Gairdner*s 
Lollardy  and  the  Reformation  in  England,  For  the  individual  biblical 
reformers  see  Lechler's  Johann  von  Wiclif;  the  masterly  study  prefixed 
to  Shirley's  edition  of  the  Fasciculi  Zisaniorum;  Trevelyan's  England  in 
the  Age  of  IVycliffe;  Loscrth's  Hus  and  Wiclif;  Ldtzow's  The  Life  and 
Times  of  John  Hus;  and  Schaff's  John  Hus, 

The  mystics  may  be  studied  in  the  histories  of  philosophy,  in  the  church 
histories,  and  in  Uie  histories  of  dogma.  General  works  relating  to  them 
arc  Gorrcs's  Die  christliche  Mystik;  Preger's  Geschichte  der  deutschen 
Mystiker;  Jones's  Studies  in  Mystical  Religion;  Steiner's  Mystics  of  the 
Renaissance;  and  Inge's  Christian  Mysticism.  Joachim  of  Flora  and  The 
Everlasting  Gospel  have  been  described  with  great  S3rmpathy  and  notable 
synthetic  power  in  Gebhart's  L'ltalie  Mystique;  and  for  additional  reading 
one  may  turn  to  the  essay  by  Renan  on  "Joachim  de  Flora  et  I'fivangile 
^temel"  in  his  Nouvelles  itudes  d'histoire  rcligieuse;  to  another  by 
Foumier  on  "  Joachim  de  Flora,  ses  doctrines,  son  influence  "  that,  in  1900^ 
was  published  in  the  Revue  des  questiones  historiques;  to  the  fourth  and 
twenty-sixth  chapters  of  Sedgwick's  Italy  in  the  Thirteenth  Century;  to 
Sabatier's  Franciscan  Studies,  which  has  two  chapters  on  the  great  Cala- 
brian  mystic;  and  also  to  the  third  volume  of  Lea's  Inquisition  in  the 
Middle  Ages.  The  mystical  friars  are  described  in  Muzzey's  scholarly 
little  book  The  Spiritual  Franciscans.  For  the  German  mystics  see 
Landauer's  Meister  Eckharts  mystiche  Schriften;  Delacroix's  Le  Mysti- 
cisme  spiculatif  en  Allemagne  au  XIV*  siicle;  Bihlmeyer's  Deutsche 
Schriften  (by  Suso)  ;  Preger's  Briefe  Heinrich  Susos;  Jager's  Heinrich 
Sense  aus  Schwaben;  the  edition  of  Tauler's  sermons  for  festivals  by 
Hutton  published  under  the  title  of  The  Inner  Way;  Schmidt's  Die  Gottes- 
freunde;  Jundt's  Les  amis  de  Dieu;  Altmeyer's  Les  pricurseurs  de  la 
Riforme  aus  Pays-Bos;  Maeterlinck's  Ruysbroek  and  the  Mystics;  and 


584  LIST  OF  REFERENCES 

Uoderhiirt  Ruysbrogk.  There  is  a  Catbolic  life  of  Thodias  i  Kcmpis  by 
Cruise;  tnd  a  recent  Protestant  one,  Thomas  6  Kempit,  his  A90  mid  Botk, 
written  with  apfHredation  of  tiie  saintlj  rechise  and  his  agc^  tagr  Mont* 
morenqr.  There  are  many  translations  and  editions  of  Tk^  imUoHom  «/ 
CMsi,  and*  naturally,  tiicy  vaiy  veiy  greats  in  merit  A  good  one  is  tfatt 
by  Bigg;  to  which  is  prefiaced  an  excdknt  Introduction  dial  has  been  re- 
printed in  his  Wayside  Sketches  in  BccUsiasHcal  History,  For  the  Frcndi 
niystics  see  ChevalUer^s  Histoire  de  Saimt  Bernard;  Eales's  Saint  Ber, 
nard;  Storrs's  Bernard  of  Clairvanx;  lyHanssonvillci's  Saint  Bernard; 
Dupin's  Gersoniana,  whidi  indndes  a  life  of  the  Fariskn  sdiolar, 
statesman,  and  nqrstic^  and  is  prefixed  to  an  ecfition  of  Us  woris; 
TmhsidBaeu  Peter  vonAiOi;  Sakmbiet^sPrfntf  deAUiaeo;  andDe  Widfs 
Histoire  de  la  philosophie  midiivaie.  The  English  nqrstics  may  be  studied 
in  Inge^s  Stndies  of  BngUsh  MysHcs.  The  subject  of  mysticism  itadf  is 
wen  discussed  in  tiiree  books  by  Underfaillt  Mysticism,  Praeticai  Mysticism, 
and  The  Mystic  Way.  Boutrouz*s  Psyehohgie  dn  Mysticisms  ia  ^try  sqg- 
gcstive. 

CHAFFER  IX 

THE  AGE  OP  DISCOVERY 

The  first  chapter  of  the  first  Tolnme  of  The  Cambridge  Modem 
History  is  a  detailed  account  of  the  geographical  disooreries  of  the 
era  of  the  Renaissance;  and  to  tiie  Tolume  is  appended  a  com^MrdiensiTe 
bibliography  of  the  stdbject  The  other  general  histories,  the  historica 
of  geography  and  of  commerce,  Ubit  histories  of  tiie  countries  that  were 
discovered  at  this  time,  and  the  articles  on  the  different  continents  «id 
countries  in  the  encyclopedias  contain  information  relating  to  die  age 
of  discovery  in  convenient  form.  Among  the  more  important  books  dealing 
with  the  subject  are  Beazley's  The  Dawn  of  Modem  Geography,  altogether 
the  best  work  upon  the  subject;  Brown's  The  Story  of  Africa  and  its 
Explorers;  Payne's  History  of  the  New  World  called  America;  Beasley's 
Prince  Henry  the  Navigator;  Mees's  Henri  le  Navigatenr;  Mees's  Histoire 
de  la  dicouverte  des  ties  Azores;  Jayne's  Vasco  da  Gama  and  his  Sue* 
cessors;  Ravenstein's  Vasco  da  Gamers  First  Voyage,  a  translation  into 
English,  with  notes,  of  a  journal  written  by  one  of  Uie  great  sailor's  sub- 
ordinates; Calcoen  [Calicut],  a  Dutch  Narrative  of  the  Second  Voyage  of 
Da  Gama,  written  by  an  unknown  seaman  of  the  voyage  and  translated  into 
English ;  Stephens's  Life  of  Albuquerque;  Winsor's  Christopher  Columbus; 
Gaffarcrs  Histoire  de  la  dicouverte  de  fAmerique;  Elton's  Career  of 
Columbus;  Pattison's  Leading  Figures  in  European  History;  Thatcher's 
Christopher  Columbus;  Young's  Christopher  Columbus  and  the  New 
World  of  his  Discovery;  Guillemard's  Life  of  Magellan;  Pigafetta's 
Magellan's  Voyage  around  the  World,  translated  and  edited  by  Robertson; 
Hudson's  The  Story  of  the  Renaissance;  Symon  and  Bensusan's  The 
Renaissance;  Fiske's  The  Discovery  of  America;  Helps's  The  Spanish 
Conquest  in  America;  Kretschmer's  Die  Entdeckung  Amerikas;  and  the 
twenty-fifth  chapter  of  Walsh's  The  Thirteenth  Century. 

Accounts  of  journeys  to  the  eastern  lands  by  western  travelers,  among 
them  Carpini  and  Rubruquis,  are  to  be  found  in  the  publications  of  the 
Hakluyt  Society.  Richard  Hakluyt  (i553?-i6i6)  was  a  British  geographer 
who  collected  and  published  narratives  of  joumesrs  and  discoveries.  The 
Society  bearing  his  name  was  founded  in  1846  for  the  purpose  of  printiog 


LIST  OF  REFERENCES  585 


rare  and  uopablished  voyages  and  travels,  and  its  publications,  together 
with  those  it  has  "fathered,"  number  more  than  one  hundred  and  fifty 


CHAPTER  X 

POLITICAL  AFFAIRS  AT  THE  OPENING  OF  THE  PROTESTANT 

REVOLUTION 

For  Louis  XI  of  France  see  Lavisse's  Histoire  de  France,  in  which 
there  is  an  admirable  summary  by  Charles  Petit-Dutaillis.  See  also 
Biacdonald's  A  History  of  France;  Charavay  and  Vaesen's  Lettres  de 
Louis  XI;  Wiflerfs  The  Reign  of  Louis  XI;  and  Hare's  The  Life  of 

Lomis  XL 

The  story  of  Charles  the  Bold  is  narrated  in  De  Vausse's  Histoire  des 
dues  de  Bowrgogne;  Fredericq's  Le  role  des  dues  de  Bourgogne  dans  les 
Pay-Bos;  De  la  Marchess  Mimoires;  Kirk's  Charles  the  Bold;  and  Put- 
nam's Charles  the  Bold. 

The  dreams  and  the  deeds  of  the  gifted  Maximilian  I  are  told  in 
Watson's  Maximilian  I;  Ulmann's  Kaiser  Maximilian  I;  Schulte's  Kaiser 
Maximilian  I;  Hare's  Maximilian  the  Dreamer;  leaser's  Deutsche 
Geschichte  Mur  Zeit  Maximilians  /,  very  useful  for  the  social  conditions  of 
the  Germanic  lands  at  this  time;  and,  in  a  brief  but  excellent 
manner.  Von  Bezold's  Staat  und  Gesellschaft  des  Reformations- 
M^italters. 

The  building  of  Spain  may  be  studied  in  Lafuente's  history  of  Spain, 
edited  by  Valera;  in  Altamira's  Historia  de  Espana  y  de  la  civilisacidn 
espaHola;  in  Prescott's  Ferdinand  and  Isabella;  and  in  De  Nervo's  Isabella 
the  Catholic,  which  has  been  translated  into  English  by  Temple- West. 

For  the  important  Popes  of  this  period  see  Pastor,  Creighton,  and 
Gregorovius;  also  Gregorovius's  Lucrezia  Borgia;  and  Villari's  Machiavelli. 

The  first  French  invasion  of  Italy  is  described  in  Delaborde's  Expedition 
dt  Charles  VIII  en  Italie;  and  its  significance  is  well  stated  in  Robinson's 
The  End  of  the  Middle  Ages,  See  also  for  all  the  topics  of  our  chapter 
Lodge's  The  Close  of  the  Middle  Ages;  and  Johnson's  Europe  in  the 
Sixteenth  Century, 

The  political  activity  of  Savonarola  and  his  tragic  end  are  dealt  with  in 
the  histories  of  the  Papacy.  See  also  Pastor's  Zur  Beurteilung  Savona- 
rolas;  Lucas's  Girolamo  Savonarola;  and  Schnitzer's  Quellen  und  For- 
schungen  sur  Geschichte  Savonarolas.  Villari's  Studies  contains  an  essay 
on  the  reforming  friar. 

For  Louis  XII  and  his  foreign  and  domestic  policy  turn  to  the  chapter 
by  Lemonnier  on  "Les  Guerres  d'ltalie"  in  Lavisse;  to  Lacroix  and 
Maulde-la-Claviere's  Louis  XII;  and  to  Maulde-la-Qaviere's  Les  origines 
de  la  revolution  frangaise  au  commencement  du  16*  sidcle. 

For  France  under  Francis  I,  and,  incidentally,  that  mirror  of  chivalry  at 
its  best,  the  Gievalier  Bayard,  le  chevalier  sans  peur  et  sans  reproche,  see 
the  general  histories,  Lavisse,  and  Macdonald,  and  also  a  biographical  study 
of  Francis  I  by  Bourrilly  in  the  fourth  volume  of  the  Revue  dltistoire 
modeme  et  contemporaine. 

Of  general  use  for  the  topics  of  our  chapter  are  the  second  and  fifteenth 
chapters  of  Acton's  Historical  Essays;  and  several  chapters  of  Symon  and 
Bensusan's  Renaissance, 


586  LIST  OF  REFERENCES 

CHAPTER  XI 

HUMANISM  AND  HERESY 

The  beginnings  of  English  humanism  are  described  in  the  second  and 
third  volumes  of  the  monumental  Cambridge  History  of  English  Lit- 
erature, where  exhaustive  bibliographies  will  be  found.  Other  historia 
of  English  literature  are  Conrthope's  History  of  English  Poetry;  Jus- 
serand's  Literary  History  of  the  English  People;  and  Seccombe  and 
Allen's  The  Age  of  Shakespeare,  See  also  Einstein's  The  Italian  Rtnats- 
sance  in  England,  a  work  of  considerable  charm  as  well  as  pronounced 
scholarship ;  Harrison's  Platonism  in  Elisabethan  Poetry;  Lee's  Elixabethan 
Sonnets;  Herford's  Literary  Relations  of  England  and  Germany  m  the 
Sixteenth  Century;  Underbill's  Spanish  Literature  in  the  England  of  the 
Tudor s;  Spingam's  History  of  Literary  Criticism  in  the  Renaissance; 
Sandys's  History  of  Classical  Scholarship;  and  Seebohm's  The  Oxford 
Reformers.  To  the  leading  English  humanists  (Grocyn,  Linacre,  Q>lct, 
and  More)  articles  in  The  Dictionary  of  National  Biography  are  devoted, 
each  of  which  has  a  list  of  references.  For  More  see  the  chapter  that 
deals  with  him  in  Lee's  Great  Englishmen  of  the  Sixteenth  Century;  and 
the  two  books  by  Bridgett  and  by  Hutton,  both  of  which  bear  the  same 
title,  The  Life  and  Writings  of  Sir  Thomas  More,  A  fine  chapter  on 
"  The  Dawn  of  the  English  Renaissance  "  is  to  be  found  in  Fisher's  His- 
tory  of  England  from  the  Accession  of  Henry  VH  to  the  Death  of  Henry 
Vni;  and  the  chapter  on  "The  Birth  of  die  Reformation"  in  Innes's 
England  under  the  Tudors  is  pertinent  One  should  not  overkx>k  the 
gracious  pages  of  Green,  both  in  his  longer  and  his  shorter  History  of  the 
English  People, 

An  excellent  introduction  to  the  study  of  French  humanism  and  its  con- 
nections with  heresy  is  the  chapter  by  Buisson  in  the  fourth  volume  of  the 
Histoire  Ginirale.  See  also  the  great  history  by  Lavisse.  Then  turn  to 
the  article  "  De  Thumanisme  et  de  la  reforme  en  France  "  by  Henri  Hauser 
in  the  sixty-fourth  volume  of  the  Revue  historique;  to  the  article  by 
Paquier  on  "  L'universite  de  Paris  et  ITiumanisrae  au  debut  du  i6«  siecle  " 
in  the  sixty-fourth  and  sixty-fifth  volumes  of  the  Revue  des  questions 
historiques;  and  to  the  article  by  Imbart  de  la  Tour  on  **  Renaissance  et 
Reforme ;  la  Religion  des  Humanistes  "  in  the  Compte  Rendu  de  VAcadinUe 
des  Sciences  Morales  et  Politiques,  June,  1914.  Much  valuable  matter  is  to 
be  found  in  Petit  de  Julleville's  Histoire  de  la  langue  et  de  la  littcrature 
fran^aises.  Briefer  histories  of  French  literature  are  Saintsbury's  A  Short 
History  of  French  Literature;  and  Dowden's  French  Literature,  Two 
admirable  books  by  a  master  of  the  subject  are  Tilley's  Literature  of  the 
French  Renaissance;  and  his  Rabelais,  Gebhart's  charming  Rabelais  con- 
tains a  fine  chapter  on  the  religion  of  that  original  thinker ;  Stapfer's  book 
on  Rabelais  is  by  no  means  antiquated;  and  one  may  turn  to  a  number 
of  valuable  articles  on  the  far-seeing  Frenchman  in  the  Revue  des  itudes 
Rabelaisiennes  which  first  appeared  in  1903;  and  also  to  the  essay  on 
Rabelais  in  Faguet's  Seisihme  Sihle.  Delaruelle's  Etudes  sur  yhumanisme 
is  a  book  of  merit.  For  Dolet  see  the  two  books  with  the  same  title, 
Etienne  Dolet,  by  Christie  and  Galtier,  the  first  in  English  and  the  second 
in  French.  The  opening  chapters  of  Buisson's  masterly  monograph 
S^hastien  Castcllion  and  parts  of  Doumergue's  great  work  on  Calvin  are 
of  much  importance  in  the  study  of  French  humanism. 

The  Spanish  humanists  are  at  least  touched  upon  in  the  histories  of 


LIST  OF  REFERENCES  587 

Spain  already  mentioned ;  and  one  may  find  something  relating  to  them  in 
the  histories  of  Spanish  literature,  especially  Ticknor's  History  of  Spanish 
Literature.  Briefer  books  are,  in  German,  Baist's  Die  Spanische  Littera- 
tur;  Becker's  Geschichte  de  Spanischen  Liter atur;  and  Beer's  Spanische 
Literaturgeschichte;  in  French,  the  slight  Pricis  d*histoire  de  la  litterature 
espanole  by  M^rim^;  and,  in  English,  Fitzmaurice-Kelly's  History  of 
Spanish  Literature  and  his  Chapters  on  Spanish  Literature.  Of  books 
devoted  to  individual  humanists  there  are,  among  others,  Hefele's 
Ximenes,  translated  from  the  German;  Boehmer's  Spanish  Reformers; 
WiflFcn's  Life  and  Writings  of  Juan  V aides;  San  Martin's  Louis  Vives  y 
la  Hhsofia  del  renacimiento;  Woodward's  Studies  in  Education,  which  is  also 
useful  for  the  study  of  German  and  English  humanism;  and  Hoppe's  Die 
Fsychologie  von  Juan  Louis  Vives,  With  one  or  two  slight  exceptions  all 
the  Spanish  humanists  who  were  perceptibly  inclined  toward  heresy  are 
tteated  in  Menendez-Pelayo's  I^s  Heterodoxos  Espaholes,  Of  prime  im- 
jiortance  is  Lea's  History  of  the  Inquisition  of  Spain;  and  not  without 
Tsilue  for  our  purpose  is  his  History  of  the  Inquisition  in  the  Spanish  De- 
pendencies; while  one  may  still  turn  with  profit  to  his  Chapters  from  the 
reUgious  history  of  Spain,  which  was  the  forerunner  of  his  greater  book. 
One  may  well  begin  the  study  of  German  humanism  in  histories  that 
relate  to  the  Empire  at  this  time,  two  of  which  are  Von  Kraus's  Deutsche 
Geschichte  im  Ausgange  des  Mittelalters ;  and  Von  Bezold's  Geschichte  der 
iUutschen  Reformation.  Then  it  would  be  well  to  take  up  books  that  deal 
specifically  with  literary  men  and  with  literature;  and  to  these  NoIIen's  A 
Chronological  and  Practical  Bibliography  of  Modern  German  Literature 
is  a  guide.  One  of  the  best  of  these  is  Geiger's  Renaissance  und  Humanis- 
mus  in  Italien  und  Deutschland;  and  others  are  Hagen's  Deutschlands 
religiose  und  literarische  Verhdltnisse  im  Reformationszeitalter;  Paulsen's 
Geschichte  des  gelehrten  Unterrichts;  Paulsen's  German  Education,  Past 
and  Present;  and  Borinski's  Geschichte  der  deutschen  Literatur  seit  dem 
Ausgange  des  Mittelalters,  Of  exceeding  value  are  Berger's  Die  Kultur- 
aufgaben  der  Reformation,  and  Dilthe/s  essays  on  Weltanschauung  und 
Analyse  des  Menschen  seit  Renaissance  und  Reformation,  now  happily 
published  in  book  form  as  the  second  volume  of  his  Gesammelte  Schriften, 
And,  written  In  ingratiating  style  with  fine  sympathy  and  scholarship,  one 
of  the  chapters  in  Beard's  Reformation  of  the  Sixteenth  Century  forms  an 
admirable  survey  of  the  subject  in  English.  Whitcomb's  Literary  Source 
Book  of  the  German  Renaissance  will  supply  the  student  with  transla- 
tions into  English  from  the  writings  of  a  niunber  of  the  German  humanists. 
Bit>graphies  of  all  the  leading  German  humanists  are  to  be  found,  of 
course,  in  the  indispensable  Allgemeine  Deutsche  Biographie.  In  Stokes's 
edition  of  the  Epistolae  Obscurorum  Virorum  the  Latin  text  and  a  sur- 
prisingly good  translation  into  English  are  given.  See,  too,  with  regard 
to  these  famous  "  letters  "  Brecht's  Die  Verfasser  der  Epistolae  Obscuro- 
rum Virorum,  Strauss's  Ulrich  von  Hutten,  translated  from  the  German, 
may  still  be  read  with  profit  as  well  as  pleasure.  A  briefer  and  more 
recent  account  is  Deckert's  Ulrich  von  Huttens  L^ben  und  Wirken,  For 
the  study  of  Erasmus  a  useful  book  is  Meyer's  Etude  critique  sur  les  rela- 
tions d*Erasme  et  de  Luther,  One  may  find  several  of  the  books  by  the 
prince  of  humanists  translated  into  English ;  and  in  Nichols's  The  Epistles 
of  Erasmus  some  of  his  letters  are  done  into  our  language.  In  the  Letters 
of  Erasmus,  edited  by  Allen,  all  of  the  great  humanist's  letters  that  are  to 
be  obtained  are  in  course  of  publication  by  the  Oxford  University 
Press.     Books  on  Erasmus  in  English  have  been  written  hy  Froude. 


LIST  OF  REFEl 


Emcrtoii,  Allen,  and  Capty.  In  Hudson' 
arc  good  pages  for  ihe  study  of  humanism 
and  Bee,  loo,  Uie  introduction  to  Vedder' 


THE  GERMAN  REVOLT 

Of  recent  general  historicE  iv  English  ( 

or,  as  it  is  more  commonly  called,  the  Pre 

is  Lindsay's  ^   History  of  Ihe  Reformotto 

Vedder's   The  Reformation  in    Germany. 

Plummer's  The  Continental  Reformation. 

Cambridge  Modern  History  relate  to  the  subj' 

«xtensive  biblioeraphies.    The  chapters  that  1: 

Cambridge  History,  are  to  be  found  ii 

work  of  Professor  Albert  Frederick  Pollard,  i 

one  of  the  finest  scholars  working  in  the  field 

overlooked  is  Von  Ranke's  History  of  the  i 

pioneer    in    scientific    history.    Creighton's   / 

much   to  say  of  Ihe  German   revolt.    In  En 

translations  of  Pastor's  History  of  the  Papacy, 

scholarly  presentation  of  the  Catholic  view  of  tl 

and  Janssen's  History  of  the  Cerrnan  People 

Ages,  which  abounds  in  information,  and  which 

polemical.    Harnack's  great  History  of  Dogma 

lish ;  and  there  is  an  admirable  survey,  comp 

authentic  in   the  mastery  of  its  material,  bf 

Robinson  in   the  eleventh  edition  of  the  Br 

books  in  English  one  can  do  no  better  than  t 

and  illuminating  The  Reformation  of  the  SiM 

excellent  little  Era  of  the  Protestant  Revoh 

many  books  in  German  the  best  introduction 

Die  Kulluraufgaben   der  Reformation;  and* 

history  is  Von  Bezold's  Gesehichte  der  deutseht 

The  best  book  in  English  that  relates  specU 

Martin  Luther,  of  which,  unfortunately,  only  th 

and  the  latest  one,  based  very  carefully  upoBi 

heretical  friar,  is  that  by  Preserved  Smith,  THti 

Luther,    Interesting  and   well   illustrated  is  1| 

The  standard  books  in  German  are  Kostlin's  Mat 

seine  Schriften;  Kolde's  Martin  Luiher;  Boeho 

Neueren   Forschvngtn;   Bcrger's  Martin   Lithf 

DoTsleilung.  only  two  volumes  of  which,  bringil 

have  as  yet  been  published  ;  and  Friedrich  von  Bi 

Staal  und  Gesellsckaft  des  Reformalionsxeilallt 

sition  of  Luther  and  his  work  by  a  Catholic  id 

und  Lulherihum:  and  see.  too,  Grisar's  Luther, 

into  English.     Luther's  three  great  pamphlets  0 

in  English  in  Wace  and  Buchheim's  First  Print 

and  other  documents  of  the  time  are  contained  i 

Irative  of  the  Continental  Reformation;  and  JDJ 

pondence  and  other  Contemporary  Letters,  \ 

\ 


i 


LIST  OF  REFERENCES  589 


CHAPTER  XIII 

THE  SCKIIAL  llEVOLUTION 

The  social  theories  of  the  Waldenses  are  described  in  the  works  relating 
to  these  interesting  heretics,  sudi  as  Preger's  BeitrSge  sur  Geschichte 
der  Waldesier;  Comba's  Histoire  des  Vaudois  d'ltalie;  Tocco's  UEresia 
nil  medio  evo;  and  Hahn's  Geschichte  der  neum&kichaischen  Ketser. 
See  also  Lea's  Inquisition  of  the  Middle  Ages. 

A  good  brief  account  of  the  English  peasant  revolt  is  to  be  found  in 
Oman's  History  of  England  from  the  Accession  of  Richard  II  to  the 
Death  of  Richard  III;  another  in  Vickers's  England  in  the  Later  Middle 
Ages;  and  a  fuller  one  in  Oman's  The  Great  Revolt  of  1381,  See  also 
R^ville's  Le  Sonlivement  des  travaUleurs  d^Angleterre  en  1381;  Trevelyan's 
England  in  the  Age  of  WyclUfe;  and  the  article  by  Cronin  in  the  twenty- 
second  volume  of  The  English  Historical  Review  on  "The  Twelve  Con- 
dusions  of  the  Lollards." 

The  story  of  the  social  revolution  in  Germanic  lands  is  given  briefly  in 
Von  Bezold's  Geschichte  der  deutschen  Reformation;  and  in  his  Staat  und 
GeseUschaft  des  Reformationsseitalters;  and,  at  greater  length,  in 
Gothein's  Politische  und  religiose  Volkshewegungen  vor  der  Reformation; 
Zollner's  Zur  Vorgeschichte  des  Bauemkrieges;  Vogt's  Die  Vorgeschichte 
des  Bauemkrieges;  Zimmermann's  Geschichte  des  grossen  Bauemkriegs; 
Schapiro's  Social  Reform  and  the  Reformation;  Bax's  The  Peasant^  War 
in  Germany;  Bax's  Social  Side  of  the  Reformation  in  Germany;  Bax's 
German  Society  at  the  Close  of  the  Middle  Ages;  Kautsk/s  Communism 
in  Central  Europe  at  the  time  of  the  Reformation.  See  also  for  brief 
treatments  of  the  subject  Vedder's  Reformation  in  Germany;  and  the 
second  volume  of  The  Cambridge  Modem  History,  where,  too,  there  is  a 
bibliography. 

Among  the  biographies  that  bear  upon  this  study  are  Merx's  Thomas 
MUnger  und  Heinrich  Pfeiffer;  Barge's  Andreas  Bodenstein  von  Karl- 
stadt;  Strauss's  Ulrich  von  Hutten;  and  Deckert's  Ulrich  von  Hut  tens 
Leben  und  Wirken. 

The  influence  of  the  almanac-makers  upon  the  social  revolution  may  be 
studied  in  Friedrich's  Astrologie  und  Reformation. 

CHAPTER  XIV 
PROTESTANTISM   AND  THE  BALANCE  OF  POWER 

The  general  histories,  the  church  histories,  the  histories  of  the  Ger- 
manic Empire,  and  the  histories  of  the  Reformation,  and  the  histories 
of  France,  enumerated  in  the  references  for  the  four  chapters  imme- 
diately preceding  this  one  contain  abundant  information  relating  to  this 
subject  A  good  brief  book  is  Johnson's  Europe  in  the  Sixteenth  Century, 
Among  the  books  that  relate  more  specifically  to  the  topic  are  Robertson's 
History  of  the  Emperor  Charles  V,  a  classic  work,  which "Sh6(f Id  be  Sup^' 
plemented  by  Armstrong's  The  Emperor  Charles  J^;/ Signet's  RivalitS  d^' 
Francois  I  et  de  Charles-quint;  Coignefs  Francois  /T^Paris's  -Etudts^fur 
Frangois  I;  De  Meaux's  La  riforme  et  la  politique  frangaise  en  Europe; 
and  Maurenbrecher's  Karl  V  und  die  deutschen  Protestanten.  Original 
sources  relating  to  the  growth  and  organization  of  Lutheranism  are  con- 
tained in  Kidd's  Documents  illustrative  of  the  Continental  Reformation, 


590  UST  OF  REFERENCES 

CHAPTER  XY 

THE  SWISS  REVOLT  FXOII  BOMB 

One  of  the  best  recent  genenl  historiet  of  Switierkiid  !■  Dienocc^s 
Guckiekte  dtr  ickwe%M€fuck€n  Eidggnassfnukafi,  whid!,  hanqf  rtmcttd, 
the  year  1648,  it  stsO  in  ooone  of  yubiiotion.  Briefer  books  are  Vn 
Miorden't  Huioire-'di  la  naiion  nksu;  McOmdmatB  Thg  Rite  of  iki 
Swiss  Republic;  and  Vulli^s  La  Smue  4  imons  ks  dges,  tiie  kit  ^ 
which  deals  with  tiie  indttstrial  and  lodal  aspects  of  the  history  of  Ae 
country. 

The  Ztiiickrift  fUr  SckmeiMeriuhg  Kirekengtukieliie  contains  amch 
material  relating  to  the  ecclesiastical  history  of  the  Confederation;  and  a 
book  devoted  to  the  aobjcct  is  Rnchaf s  Hiitoin  de  la  RiforwMkm  de  k 
Suiue.  The  chapter  devoted  to  the  subject  in  the  second  vohnne  of  TU, 
Cambridge  Modem  History  u  disapp(»ntiQg;  but  there  is  a  good  bihliof- 
raphy  appended  The  seccnid  volume  of  Fkischlin's  Siudien  tmtf  BeiMkfe 
gar  schweiMerische  Kvrchemgeschkkte  comes  down  to  isa»  and  b  written 
from  a  Catholic  pmnt  of  view;  end  another  Catholic  book  Is  ICaycr^s  Dst 
Conml  von  Trent  wnd  die  GegenreformaHon  in  der  Sckmeie.  A  Piotestaat 
book  is  Bloesch's  Geukkkie  der  eekmiiaerisdk^eformitrlsn  Kweken;  and 
anodier  is  Hadom's  Kirchengesckkkie  der  reformierten  Sckweia, 

There  are  biographies  of  Zwingii  by  Hottinger,  Oirirtoffel*  and  Groh^ 
translated  into  English;  and  one^  HMrekh  ZwingU,  written  in  English 
by  Jackson.  The  best  exposition  of  Zwingli's  religious  views^  as  Iv  as 
the  knowledge  of  the  present  writer  extends*  is  that  to  be  found  in  the 
second  volume  of  Dilthey's  Gesammelie  Schriften,  a  book  that  beoomes 
increasingly  valuable  to  us  from  now  on  to  the  last  of  our  chaptera.  A 
body  of  Zwingli's  writings  translated  into  English  will  be  found  in  Jade- 
son's  SeUcted  Works  of  Huldreick  ZwingH;  imd  for  other  orifljnal  somce 
material  see  Kidd's  Documenis  UktstraHve  of  the  Continental  Reforms 
tion. 

CHAPTER  XVI 

THE  FRENCH  REVOLT  FROM  ROME 

The  pertinent  chapters  in  Lavisse  and  Rambaud's  Histoire  GSnirak, 
in  Lavisse's  Histoire  de  France;  and  in  Macdonald's  History  of  France, 
may  be  recommended  to  the  reader  to  begin  with.  In  the  first  two  of 
these  books,  as  well  as  in  the  second  volume  of  The  Cambridge  Modem 
History,  and  in  Mauser's  Les  Sources  de  ^Histoire  de  France,  extensive 
bibliographies  of  the  subject  will  be  found.  The  other  general  his- 
tories, the  histories  of  France,  and  the  ecclesiastical  histories,  that  we 
have  previously  mentioned,  deal  with  the  subject ;  as  does  Jervis's  History 
of  the  Church  of  France.  And  of  books  that  deal  only  with  the  French 
revolt  there  are  Hauser's  Etudes  sur  la  Reforms  Frangaise;  Browning's 
History  of  the  Huguenots;  Smedley's  History  of  the  Reformed  Religion  in 
r ranee;  Baird's  The  Rise  of  the  Huguenots,  strongly  biased  in  favor  of  the 
theological  seceders;  Puaux's  Histoire  de  la  Reformation  frangaise; 
Polenz's  Geschichte  des  franedsichen  Cahnnismus;  Imbart  de  la  Tour^s 
Les  origines  de  la  Riforme;  and,  most  important  of  all,  the  Bulletin  de  k 
societi  d^histoire  du  protestantisme  frangaise. 

Biographies  of  some  of  the  early  French  Protestants  are  to  be  found  in 


LIST  OF  REFERENCES  591 

Bordier's  revised,  but  incomplete,  edition  of  Hang's  La  France  protestante. 
Special  biographical  studies  are  the  old  one  of  Lefevre  of  Etaples  by 
Graf;  Schmidt's  Etudes  sur  Farel;  Sevan's  William  Farel;  Morley*s 
CUment  Marot;  and  the  essay  on  Marot  in  Faguefs  Seiriime  Siicle, 

For  Geneva  use  Roget's  Histoire  du  peuple  de  Gendve;  Gaberel's  His^ 
toire  de  F  iglise  dti  Cenhfe;  Borgeaud's  Histoire  de  V university  de  Genive; 
Denldnger's  Histoire  populaire  du  canton  de  Gen^e;  Gautier's  Histoire 
de  Genh^;  Perrin's  Les  Vieux  Quartiers  de  Genh/e;  and  the  scholarly 
article,  with  numerous  references  in  the  footnotes,  by  Foster  in  the  eighth 
volume  of  The  American  Historical  Review, 

The  standard  edition  of  Calvin's  works  is  that  by  the  five  Strasburg 
scholars  (Baum,  Cunitz,  Reuss,  Lobstein,  and  Erichson)  in  fifty-nine 
volumes,  the  last  of  which  contains  a  very  full  bibliography.  Most  of  the 
writings  have  been  published  in  English,  at  Edinburgh,  by  The  Calvin 
Translation  Society.  And  for  other  original  sources  see  Kidd's  Docu^ 
ments  illustrative  of  the  Continental  Reformation,  Three  biographies  of 
Calvin  in  English  may  be  recommended.  They  are  the  one  by  Dyer;  a 
more  recent  one,  John  Calvin,  an  admirable  book,  by  Walker;  and  John 
Calvin,  by  Reybum.  In  German  there  is  Kampschulte's  Johann  Calvin, 
seine  Kirche  und  sein  Staat  in  Genf,  a  scholarly  and  fair  work  of  con- 
siderable value.  In  French  the  outstanding  work  is  Doumergue's  great 
work,  elaborately  illustrated,  Jean  Calvin;  les  hommes  et  les  choses  de  son 
temps.  But  the  best  study  of  his  early  years  is  still  Lef ranc's  Im  Jeunesse 
de  Calvin*  Two  excellent  books  on  the  government  of  Geneva  during  Cal- 
vin's regime  are  Chois/s  La  Thiocratie  d  Gendve  au  temps  de  Calvin;  and 
his  L'Etat  chritien  Calviniste  d  Genive  au  temps  de  Theodore  de  Bise. 
One  of  the  best  of  the  many  articles  on  Calvin  is  that  by  Mark  Pattison 
to  be  found  in  his  Essays  and  also  in  the  fifty-ninth  volume  of  The  Living 
Age.  Another  brief  essay  is  that  by  Gebhart  in  his  Lm  VieUle  Eglise;  and 
still  another  is  the  one  in  Faguet's  Seisiime  Siicle, 

The  copious  literature  relating  to  Servetus  is  listed  quite  fully  in 
Linde's  Michael  Servet  And  of  books  that  deal  with  him  as  a  religious 
thinker  and  as  a  man  the  following  are  recommended.  In  English, 
Willis's  Servetus  and  Calvin;  Porter's  Servetus  and  Calvin;  in  German, 
Tollin*s  Characterbild  M.  Servets;  and,  in  Spanish,  the  second  volume  of 
Menendez-Pelayo's  Los  Heterodoxos  Espanoles,  For  the  great  apostle 
of  tolerance  see  Buisson's  admirable  monograph  Sihastien  Castellion, 
which  contains  a  bibliography  useful  for  our  entire  chapter;  and  Giran's 
Sihastien  Castellion  et  la  Riforme  Calviniste, 

CHAPTER  XVII 

llEVOLT  IN  THE  NORTH  AND  HERESY  IN  THE  SOUTH 

For  a  list  of  references  for  the  first  part  of  this  study  see  the  biblio> 
graphy  for  the  seventeenth  chapter  of  the  second  volume  of  The  Cam- 
bridge  Modern  History;  and  for  one  dealing  with  the  second  part  see 
the  bibliographies  for  the  twelfth  and  eighteenth  chapters  of  the  same 
volume. 

The  revolt  of  Denmark  from  the  ancestral  Church  may  be  traced  in 
Danmark*s  Riges  Historic;  in  Bain's  Scandinavia,  which,  as  the  title  implies, 
deals  also  with  the  other  Scandinavian  countries;  in  Weitemeyer*s  Den- 
mark; and  in  Schafer's  Geschichte  von  Danemark,  In  each  of  these  books 
a  bibliography  will  be  found.    For  Norway  see  Wilson's  History  of  Church 


593  UST  OP  REFERENi 


«UC 


and  Siaig  in  Ncfwaiy.  Sometiiing  of  oor  topk  m^  be  learned  irai 
Nyttrdni's  Spmges  poHHska  kutorU;  and  nmeh  more  from  Bader^a  Tftr 
RgfarmaHon  m  Sweden;  and  from  Watson'a  71b#  Stmditk  JtowlafiM 
under  Gnstmms  Vata.  Original  toorces  rdadng  to  PraCeitanlhm  k' 
Scandinavia  are  to  be  f onnd  in  Kiddfa  DoemmmiU  Ukutnlia^  0/  Ihr  Cfa- 
tmtnial  Refarmaiion, 

Protestantism  in  Fmsria  maj  be  studied  in  Fmti^  Prmumekg  Gf> 
sehickte;  in  Lohmejrer's  HnMog  Albrtchi  von  Premtau;  and,  to  nmdi  bet* 
ter  advantage,  in  Tschadcert's  Hgrtog  Afhnet  vom  Prnustn  ok  nfpftm 
torische  PersonUchkiit;  and  in  Plnm'a  Tkg  TemUndc  Order  mid  U$  Smv* 
lariMaHon. 

For  the  beginnings  of  Protestantism  in  the  other  Baltic  laada  asi 
Schiemann's  Russkmd,  PoUn  mnd  Utdmd;  Sentphim's  Gesckickie  Lm- 
lands,  BstMands,  mnd  KuHands;  Seraphim's  G$$chkkie  van  Lkdaad;  aai 
Schybergson's  Geuhkhie  Pitmlands. 

Something  of  tiie  stoiy  of  Protestantism  in  Poland  and  ^^tf**finla  msy 
be  gathered  from  SokolowsU's  Hitiory  of  Poland;  and  Darowshfa  Bom 
SfoTMo;  and  much  more  may  be  learned  in  tht  Hisioria  roformoHomi 
polomcag  of  Lnbieniedns  (Labienski);  in  Krasinskfs  RrforwkOiam  in 
Poland;  in  Dahon's  John  a  Laseo,  an  English  translation  of  the  first  part 
of  a  German  book;  in  }ht  article  on  Lasld  in  Tko  DieHonary  of  NaHond 
Biography;  in  Pascal's  Jtan  do  Laseo;  and  in  Bokowsld's  HUtary  of  Iks 
Reformation  in  Poland,  which  is  available  onbr  in  Polish. 

For  Hmigaiy  see  the  references  to  histories  of  tiut  comitry  given  in  the 
list  for  om*  twenty-eighth  chapter;  and  see  also  tiie  references  tiut  rdata 
to  ^e  Socini  which  are  included  in  the  list  for  chapter  eifl^iteen. 

For  the  general  attitude  of  Italy  at  the  time  of  the  Renaissance  see 
Burckfaardf  s  History  of  the  CimBaaiion  of  the  Renmssanee  tn  ittdy;  the 
introduction  td  the  fiftfi  volume  of  tiie  En^ish  translation  of  Pastoi^s 
History  of  the  Popes;  Owen's  Skeptics  of  the  Italian  Renaissance;  Vngt^s 
Die  Wiederhelehung  des  classischen  Alterthums;  Dejob's  La  Foi  Religieuse 
en  Italie  au  Quatorsi^me  SiMe;  and  Barzelotti's  Italia  mistica  e  Italia 
pagana. 

Bembo  and  the  trend  toward  paganism  may  be  studied  in  Casa's  Vita  di 
Bemho;  and  in  the  histories  of  Italian  literature.  For  Pomponazzi  and  ^e 
trend  toward  rationalism  see  the  histories  of  philosophy;  Benn's  History 
of  Rationalism;  and  Douglas's  Philosophy  and  Psychology  of  Pietro 
Pomponazzi, 

The  proceedings  and  influence  of  the  Fifth  Lateran  Council  and  the 
reforms  of  Adrian  VI  are  described  in  the  church  histories  and  the  his- 
tories of  the  Popes,  in  Hefele-Hergenrother's  ConcUiengeschichte,  and  in 
Gregorovius's  Rome  in  the  Middle  Ages, 

In  the  ecclesiastical  and  papal  histories  one  may  study  the  beginnings  of 
Catholic  reform  in  Italy.  For  this,  and  for  all  the  subsequent  topics  of  our 
chapter,  see  the  twelfth  and  the  eighteenth  chapters,  with  their  bibliog- 
raphies, of  the  second  volume  of  The  Cambridge  Modern  History,  For 
the  newer  monastic  orders  see  the  articles  on  them,  each  with  a  list  of 
references  in  Heimbucher's  Orden  und  Kongregationen ;  in  The  Catholic 
Encyclopaedia;  and  in  Herzog-Hauck's  Realencyklopddie,  In  the  churdi 
and  papal  histories,  too,  one  will  find  the  story  of  the  mediating  reformers; 
and  in  such  books  as  Maurenbrecher's  Die  Katholische  Reformation; 
Braun's  Cardinal  Gasparo  Contarini;  and  Pasolini's  Adriano  VI, 

The  out-cropping  of  Protestant  ideas  in  Italy  and  their  penetration  into 
the  peninsula  from  other  lands  may  be  studied  in  two  old  boolcs,  Gerdcs'9 


LIST  OF  REFERENCES  593 

Specimen  ItaHae  reformatae,  and  M'Crie's  History  of  the  progress  and 
suppression  of  the  Reformation  in  Italy,  that  still  have  some  value ;  and  in 
such  later  books  as  Comba's  Storia  delta  riforma  in  Italie;  G)mba's  /  nostri 
Protestanti;  Cantu's  Gli  Eretici  d'ltalia;  Jerrold's  Vittoria  Colonna;  Hare's 
Men  and  Women  of  the  Italian  Reformation;  and  Lea's  History  of  the 
Inquisition  in  the  Spanish  Dependencies,  There  is  no  satisfactory  history 
of  the  revived  Inquisition,  nor  can  there  be  one  until  the  archives  of  that 
terrible  institution  are  opened  to  the  historical  scholar.  But  see  Buschbell's 
Reformation  und  Inquisition  in  Italien,  and  the  passages  in  Pastor's  History 
of  the  Popes  that  relate  to  Paul  III  and  Paul  IV. 

Nearly  all  the  books  relating  to  Spanish  humanism  mentioned  in  the 
references  for  our  eleventh  chapter  will  be  found  useful  for  the  study  of 
Spanish  Protestantism.  The  greatest  work  on  the  subject  is  Lea's  History 
of  the  Inquisition  of  Spain;  but  see  also  his  Chapters  from  the  Religious 
History  of  Spain,  Interesting  articles  by  Reinach  on  Lea's  great  work 
were  published  in  1906-08  in  the  Revue  Critique.  A  far  slighter  book,  but 
of  some  use  in  our  present  study,  is  Sabadni's  Torquemada  and  the  Spanish 
Inquisition,  There  are  two  slight  but  attractive  essays  on  Saint  Teresa  in 
Gebharfs  La  Vieille  Eglise,  More  important  works  on  this  great  mystic 
are  the  Life  edited  by  Graham ;  Whyte's  Santa  Teresa;  Hello's  Studies  in 
Samtship;  Joly's  excellent  Saint  Teresa;  and  Colvill's  Saint  Teresa  of 


CHAPTER  XVIII 

THE  RESULTS  OF  THE  PROTESTANT  REVOLUTION 

Summaries  of  the  results  of  the  Revolution,  differing  from  each  other 
as  widely  as  the  points  of  view  of  their  authors,  are  to  be  found  in 
mo6t  of  the  church  histories  and  in  the  histories  of  the  Reformation. 
Of  the  latter,  the  more  important  recent  ones  are  Lindsay's  History 
of  the  Reformation;  Von  Bezold's  Geschichte  der  deutschen  Reformation; 
Troeltsch's  Protestantisches  Christentum  und  Kirche  der  Neuseit;  and, 
best  of  all  for  our  present  purpose,  Beard's  admirable  book,  The  Reformat 
tion  of  the  Sixteenth  Century  in  its  Relation  to  Modern  Thought  and 
Knowledge.  See  also  the  articles  on  the  Reformation  in  the  various  en- 
cjTclopedias.  The  social  and  economic  results  are  clearly  outlined  in  See- 
bohm's  The  Era  of  the  Protestant  Revolution;  the  place  of  the  Revolution 
in  the  development  of  Christianity  is  satisfactorily  indicated  in  Piinjer's 
History  of  the  Christian  Philosophy  of  Religion;  and  its  part  in  the  his- 
tory of  civilization  is  admirably  set  forth  by  Laurent  in  his  La  Riforme, 
which  is  one  of  the  volumes  of  his  Etudes  sur  Phistoire  de  I'humaniti, 
Not  to  be  overlooked  is  the  brief  but  effective  statement  (pages  117-18)  in 
Robinson's  The  New  History;  and  also  that  (pages  121-26)  in  Hudson's 
Story  of  the  Renaissance.  There  are,  too,  pertinent  pages  in  Lecky's 
Rationalism  in  Europe,  There  is,  of  course,  a  great  mass  of  literature 
from  each  of  the  two  great  camps  of  western  Christendom  upon  this 
mooted  subject.  It  may  suffice  to  mention,  from  the  Catholic  side,  D61- 
linger's  Die  Reformation;  Balm^s's  European  Civilisation;  Protestantism 
and  Catholicity  Compared;  Janssen's  History  of  the  German  People  at 
the  End  of  the  Middle  Ages;  Baudrillarfs  The  Catholic  Church,  the 
Renaissance,  and  Protestantism;  and  the  fifth  chapter  of  Acton's  History 
of  Freedom;  and,  from  the  Protestant  side,  Carlyle's  essay  on  "  The  Hero 
as  Priest"  in  his  Heroes  and  HerO'Worship;  and  Mead's  Martin  Luther. 


594  LIST  OF  REFERENCES 

There  is  much  thoughtful  matter  pertinent  to  our  topic  in  the  second  book 
of  Sabatier's  Religions  of  Authority  and  the  Religion  of  the  Spirit;  and  t 
useful  book  is  Pfieiderer's  The  Development  of  Christianity. 

For  the  Bohemian  Brothers,  or,  as  their  spiritual  descendants  are  now 
called,  the  Moravian  Brethren,  see  Gindd/s  Geschichte  der 
BrUder;    Gindely's    Quellen    sur    Geschichte    der    Bdhmischen-i 
MuUcr's  Zinsendorf  als  Emeurer  der  alt  en  BrUder-Kirche ;  Becker's 
dorf  und  sein  Christentum;  and  Hutton's  History  of  the  Moravian  Chnrck 

Of  the  increasing  number  of  books  that  relate  to  the  Anabaptists,  a  set 
of  men  still  much  misunderstood,  the  following,  of  the  more  recent  ones, 
are  useful.  Bax's  Rise  and  Fall  of  the  Anabaptists;  Heath's  Anabaptism; 
Keller's  Geschichte  der  Wiedertaiifer  und  ihres  Reichs  su  MUnster; 
Kerssenbroch's  Leben  und  Schriften,  edited  by  Detmer;  Tumbiilt's  Die 
Wiedertaiifer;  Burrage's  The  Anabaptists  of  the  Sixteenth  Century;  and 
Newman's  History  of  Anti-Pedobaptism.  In  addition  there  are  Merx's 
Thomas  MUnger  und  Heinrich  Pfeiffer;  F.  O.  zur  Linden's  Mekkior 
Hofmann;  Loserth's  Balthasar  Hiibmayer;  Vedder's  Balthasar  Hubmaier; 
and  Burckhardt's  article  on  "Jan  of  Leyden"  in  his  Basler  Biographien, 

The  Anti-Trinitarians  may  be  studied  best  in  their  writings  and  in  tiie 
biographies  of  the  leaders.  The  literature  relating  to  Servetus  is  extensive. 
In  addition  to  the  books  relating  to  him  cited  in  the  references  for  our 
sixteenth  chapter,  see  Tollin's  Das  Lehrsystem  Michael  Servets  genetisch 
dargestellt,  Tollin  has  discussed,  in  at  least  forty  magazine  articles,  almost 
every  question  connected  with  the  ill-fated  thinker;  and  his  book  is  the 
best  study  of  the  theological  speculations  and  conclusions  of  Servetus. 
For  the  Socini  see  Trechsel's  Die  protestantischen  Anti-Trinitarier  vor 
Faustus  Socin;  and  Fock's  Der  Socinianismus,  For  the  Anti-Trinitarians 
in  general  see  Bonet-Maury's  Early  Sources  of  English  Unitarian  Chris- 
tianity, translated  into  English;  Sand's  Bibliotheca  Anti-Trinitariorum; 
and  Allen's  Historical  Sketch  of  the  Unitarian  Movement  since  the 
Reformation, 

For  the  schisms  see  Dollinger's  and  Punjer's  books  already  named; 
Domer's  Geschichte  der  protestantischen  Theologie;  Richard's  The  Con" 
fessional  History  of  the  Lutheran  Church;  and  M'Giffert's  Protestant 
Thought  before  Kant,  a  little  book  that  will  be  found  useful  for  several 
of  our  chapters. 

The  freethinkers  are  dealt  with  in  the  histories  of  philosophy ;  in  Beard's 
Reformation;  in  Robertson's  Short  History  of  Free  Thought;  in  Owen's 
Evenings  with  the  Skeptics;  in  Owen's  Skeptics  of  the  Italian  Renais- 
sance; and  in  Owen's  Skeptics  of  the  French  Renaissance,  See  also  Mor- 
ley's  Life  of  Agrippa;  Stoddart's  Life  of  Paracelsus;  SudhofTs  Versuch 
eincr  Kritik  der  Echtheit  der  Paracelsischen  Schriften;  the  Corpus 
Schwenckfeldianorum;  Tausch's  Sebastian  Franck  von  Donauworth  und 
seine  Lehrer;  and  Graves's  Peter  Ramus  and  the  Educational  Reform  of 
the  Sixteenth  Century. 

The  study  of  the  history  of  tolerance,  and  of  its  champions,  may  be 
carried  on  in  Ruffini's  Religious  Liberty,  now  happily  translated  into  Eng- 
lish, which  has  pages  that  bear  in  a  helpful  manner  upon  most  of  our 
remaining  chapters ;  in  the  chapter  entitled  "  On  Persecution  "  in  Leck/s 
Rationalism;  in  Creighton's  Persecution  and  Tolerance;  in  Volkcr's 
Tolerans  und  Intolerans  im  Zeitalter  der  Reformation;  in  Schaff's  History 
of  the  Christian  Church  (6:50-86;  7:612-58,  687-712)  ;  in  the  chapters  on 
"  Reason  and  Liberty "  and  **  The  Sects  of  the  Reformation  "  in  Beard's 
Reformation  of  the  Sixteenth  Century;  in  Giran's  Sebastien  Castellion  et 


...^^tMBak^Ai. 


UST  OF  REFERENCES  595 

la  RSforme  Calviniste;  in  Buisson's  masterly  Sihastien  Casiellion,  which 
b  of  greatest  value  to  us  at  this  point  of  our  study;  and  in  the  second 
volume  of  Dilthe/s  Gesammelte  Schriften,  which  deals  with  the  subject 
in  an  admirable  manner.  The  eloquent  French  version  of  the  remarkable 
little  book  Traiti  des  HMtiques,  doubtless  a  collective  work  by  Italian 
refugees,  aided  by  several  men  of  Teutonic  race,  at  Basel,  of  whom 
Castellion,  a  Savoyard,  was  the  most  important,  has  recently  been  reprinted. 
Copies  of  the  Latin  original  (1554)  ^^  extremely  rare;  and  only  three 
copies  of  the  French  version  (1554)  are  known  to  be  extant,  and  they  are 
all  in  Swiss  libraries.  The  book  is  indispensable  in  any  serious  history  of 
civilization. 

CHAPTER  XIX 

THE  DEVELOPMENT  OF  LETTERS  AND  ART 

For  the  development  of  Uterature  during  the  disturbances  of  the 
Protestant  Revolution  see  the  histories  of  letters  and  of  literature  cited 
as  references  for  our  fifth  chapter.  In  addition  to  them  see  Saints- 
bury's  The  Earlier  Renaissance;  Gardner's  Dukes  and  Poets  in  Ferrara, 
in  which  historical  accuracy  and  literary  charm  are  pleasingly  com- 
pounded; Gobineau's  Renaissance,  which  has  been  translated  into  English; 
and  chapter  fourteen,  with  its  bibliography,  of  the  third  volume  of 
The  Cambridge  Modern  History.  Panizzi's  edition  of  Boiardo  contains 
all  the  important  works  of  the  poet;  and  in  Euphorion,  by  Vernon  Lee 
(Violet  Paget's  nom  dc  plume),  there  is  a  notable  essay  on  "The  School 
of  Boiardo."  There  are  other  essays  in  this  suggestive  but  immature  book 
that  will  be  found  of  considerable  value  in  the  study  of  Italian  social 
conditions  and  Italian  art  in  the  period  of  the  Renaissance.  Panizzi's 
edition  of  the  Orlando  Furioso  is  the  most  useful  See  also  W.  Stewart 
Ro:>e's  translation  of  Ariosto's  great  poem;  and  Gardner's  Ariosto:  the 
Prince  of  Court  Poets,  a  scholarly  and  sympathetic  work  that  succeeds 
admirably  in  giving  the  spirit  of  the  age;  and  the  little  essay  on  Ariosto 
in  Gebhart's  De  Panurge  d  Sancho  Panga,  The  more  complete  editions  of 
Machiavelli's  writings  are  those  by  Parenti  and  by  Usigli.  But  see  Burd's 
//  Principe,  which  contains  an  excellent  introduction.  The  best  biography 
of  the  great  exponent  of  statecraft  is  Villari's  Machiavelli  and  His  Times, 
finely  translated  into  English  by  the  historian's  wife,  Linda  White  Villari. 
See  also  Morley's  Machiavelli;  the  essay  on  Machiavelli  in  Gebhart's  La 
Renaissance  Italienne;  and  the  notable  passages  relating  to  Machiavelli  in 
the  second  volume  of  Dilthey's  Gesammelte  Schriften.  Gherardi,  a  Flor- 
entine archivist,  is  engaged  upon  the  first  complete  edition  of  Guicciar- 
dini's  works.  The  best  biography  of  the  historian  and  statesman  is 
Rossi's  Francesco  Guicciardini.  For  Leo  X  see  Pastor's  History  of  the 
Popes;  Creighton's  History  of  the  Papacy;  Grcgorovius's  Rome  in  the 
Middle  Ages;  Roscoe's  Life  and  Pontihcate  of  Leo  X,  a  notable  book  in 
its  time  and  still  quite  useful;  and  Vaughan's  The  Medici  Popes,  In  the 
second  volume  of  Casa's  works  will  be  found  his  Vita  di  Bembo,  There 
are  three .  biographical  works  relating  to  Sadoleto ;  one  by  Fiordibello, 
which  is  to  be  found  in  the  Verona  edition  of  the  cardinal's  works; 
Pericaud's  Fragments  biographiques  sur  Jacob  Sadolet;  and  Joly's  Etudes 
sur  Sadolet,  Bembo  and  Sadoleto  are  both  dealt  with  in  Sandys's  History 
of  Clcusical  Scholarship,  There  is  a  recent  translation,  by  Opdycke,  of 
Castiglione's  golden  book   The  Courtier,    See  also  Hare's   Courts  and 


596  UST  OF  REFERENi 


m:k. 


Camfs  of  the  IMtm  Rtnmimue;  and  Cunnlijitft  BdUoMS&re  CuHt" 
Hone,  tko  Pirfoct  Couhkr,  wbkh  hat  a  food  bibliQtnplqr- 

For  tiia  dcvdofNiicirt  of  aichiloctim  wtt  tlia  vtlcfcnoat  "t^*''HK  to  Ihit 
art  given  in  the  Hit  of  books  for  oor  ilaA  duster. 

The  general  boola  on  acalptiire  Hated  in  tiie  refciencea  for  llit  laM 
diapCer  are  uefdl  for  our  present  stwly;  Add  to  liiem  Sfrnfoadtfu  Tim 
Lift  of  MkheUmgOo:  ICadcowiksr's  eicdlent  UiaiOagmiolo:  OMmtt 
Miehei'Angt,  sctdpigur  gi  pnnire,  written  widi  nmdi  ii  tiie  dmi  aal 
insiglit  that  characteriae  the  books  of  tfata  historian;  Kaunas  MMM- 
angtlo;  and  Davies's  Mkkamgeh. 

F(^  the  painters  of  this  period  see  the  genersl  histories  of  tiie  art  dbd 
in  the  references  for  our  sixth  diapter;  and  also  the  fc^kmiog  boofak 
Frcmientin's  The  Masters  of  Past  Time;  Gronan's  Leonmrdo  da  Vktd; 
Berenson's  The  Dnmmgs  of  PhrenHae  Pamiers;  the  second  edition  of 
Sofani's  Leonardo;  the  second  edition  of  Slailles's  Leonmrda  da  Vmd, 
f artiste  tt  le  sawtnt;  McCordy's  Leonardo  da  Vinci,  a  good  brief  book; 
McCordy's  Leonardo  da  Vincfs  Notebooks;  and  Thiis's  Leommrda  da 
Vinei,  unique  in  tiie  difficult  questions  of  attribntioo,  bat  noCabk  ior  ks 
darity  of  exposition  and  for  a  yirid  portrayal  of  the  personal  and  aodrf 
background  of  Leonardo's  early  career.  Piter's  essay  on  Leonardo^  ivfckh 
contains  the  famous  interpretation  of  die  Mona  Iin»  is  to  be  found  m  Ui 
Renaissance.  Raphael  is  dealt  with  hi  Motdli's  Itsdian  Mastera;  hi  Bcr- 
enson's  Cenirai  ItalUm  Painters;  and  in  Opp<^s  Raphael,  a  naefdl  nMno- 
graph,  well-illustrated.  There  is  a  brief  biograplqr  of  Andrea  dd  Salts 
in  English  by  Guiness.  For  Correggio  see  Rico's  Ufe  and  Times  of  Cm^ 
reggio;  Thode's  Correggio;  and  MoorcTs  Correggio.  A  Ifaie  cxpoaition  of 
tiie  great  contributions  of  Venice  to  die  deTek)pment  of  painfing  (dte 
marvelous  enrichment  of  cctoriog;  and  a  broad  and  single  ladikMi  of 
treating  the  landscape  background)  is  to  be  found  in  Fhilfippsfs  The 
Venetian  School  of  Painting.-  MeyndTs  Giovanni  BeOini  baa  qoHe  a  fidl 
set  of  reproductions  of  the  pictures  that  are  authentically  attributed  to 
this  early  Venetian  painter.  For  Giorgione  see  Gronau's  Zoreon  da  Cos- 
telfranco;  Cook's  Giorgione;  and  De  Villard's  Giorgione  da  Castelfranco. 
For  Titian  see  Crowe  and  Cavalcaselle's  The  Life  and  Times  of  TiHan; 
Gronau's  Titian,  translated  from  the  German,  the  most  important  work 
on  the  painter;  Phillipps's  The  Earlier  and  Later  Works  of  Titian;  and 
Ricketts's  Titian,  the  most  recent  book  on  the  subject,  well-illustrated. 

For  the  art  of  the  Low  Countries  see  Crowe  and  Cavalcaselle's  The 
Early  Flemish  Painters;  Wurzbach's  Niederl&ndisches  KOnstler-Lexicon; 
Weale's  John  van  Eyck;  Bode's  Studien  sur  geschichte  der  HollSndischen 
Melerei;  and  Harvard's  The  Dutch  School  of  Painting.  Ward's  The 
Architecture  of  the  Renaissance  in  France  has  a  scholarly  text  and  unusu- 
ally serviceable  illustrations.  Lafenestre's  Jehan  Fonqnet  is  a  very  satis- 
factory study  of  the  most  representative  French  painter  of  the  ^teenth 
century;  and  admirably  illustrated  is  Vitry  and  Briere's  Documents  de  la 
Sculpture  frangaise  du  Renaissance, 

The  early  history  of  German  painting  may  be  studied  in  Janitsdiek's 
Geschichte  der  deutschen  malerei.  Of  the  many  books  that  r^te  to  the 
great  German  painter,  draughtsman,  and  engraver,  see  Gust's  Atbreeht 
DUrer;  Knackf uss's  DUrer,  translated  from  the  German ;  Zucker'a  AWrechi 
DUrer;  and  Wolfflin's  Die  Kunst  Albrecht  DUrers,  an  excellent  monograpk. 
And  for  Hans  Holbein,  the  younger,  see  Knackfuss's  Holbein;  Davio's 
Holbein;  and  Woltmann's  Holbein  und  seine  Zeit. 


LIST  OF  REFERENCES  597 

CHAPTER  XX 

THE  TURK,  THE  COMET,  AND  THE  DEVIL 

Mansr  of  the  books  relating  to  the  Turk  and  Mongol  in  Europe  cited 
in  the  references  for  our  second  chapter  will  be  found  useful  for  this 
present  study  of  the  continued  advance  of  the  Turk.  To  these  may 
be  added  Pears's  The  Destruction  of  the  Greek  Empire;  Lane-PooleTs 
Mohammedan  Dynasties;  Butler's  The  Arab  Conquest  of  Egypt;  and 
Becker's  Beitrage  sur  Geschichte  Agyptens,  For  the  maritime  successes 
of  die  Turk  see  Lane-Poole's  Story  of  the  Barbary  Corsairs,  in  which, 
and  in  the  fourth  and  fifth  volumes  of  Lavisse  and  Rambaud's  Histoire 
GMraie,  will  be  found  bibliographies  of  the  subject.  The  Janizaries 
are  described  in  Dj^ad  Bey's  Etat  mUitaire  ottoman;  in  Thuasne's 
Djem^ultan  the  Turkish  relations  in  these  years  with  western  powers  are 
set  forth;  while  in  Ranke's  Die  Osmanen  und  die  spanische  Monarchie, 
in  Eliot's  admirable  Turkey  in  Europe,  and  in  Lybyer's  The  Government 
of  the  Ottoman  Empire  in  the  time  of  Suleiman  the  Magnificent,  much 
may  be  learned  of  the  Turkish  administration. 

Some  information  of  the  terror  in  Latin  Christendom  caused  by  the 
encroaching  Turk  may  be  gathered  from  KnoUes's  Historie  of  the  Turks, 
and  from  the  anonymous  Libellus  de  ritu  et  moribus  Turcorum,  a  little 
book,  widely  circulated  in  that  day,  one  edition  of  which  was  prepared  by 
Luther;  but  by  far  the  best  source  of  information  is  to  be  found  in  the 
news-letters,  sermons,  and  other  writings  of  the  day,  which  are  to  be 
found  not  in  books  but  in  the  great  libraries. 

The  terror  caused  in  the  sixteenth  century  by  celestial  signs  and  won- 
ders may  at  least  be  glimpsed  in  Friedrich's  Astrologie  und  Reformation: 
in  Lund's  Himmelsbild  und  Weltanschauung;  and  in  White's  History  of 
the  Warfare  of  Science  with  Theology  in  Christendom  (see  the  chapter 
entitled  "From  'Signs  and  Wonders'  to  Law  in  the  Heavens"),  where 
the  footnotes  give  references  to  the  contemporary  comet  literature. 

For  the  study  of  the  panic,  created  by  the  belief  in  the  Devil  and  his 
alleged  servants,  the  witches,  that  prevailed  throughout  Latin  Christen- 
dom, and  for  the  rise  of  the  terrible  witch  persecution  of  the  sixteenth 
century,  use  RoskofiTs  Geschichte  des  Teufels;  Soldan  and  Heppe  and 
Bauer's  Geschichte  der  Hexenprosesse,  whose  wealth  of  illustrations  in 
itself  makes  the  book  one  of  unusual  value;  Janssen's  History  of  the 
German  People  at  the  End  of  the  Middle  Ages;  Hansen's  Zauberwahn, 
Inquisition  und  Hexenprosess  im  Mittelalter;  Hansen's  Quellen  und  Unter- 
suchungen;  and  the  second  volume  of  Duhr's  Geschichte  der  Jesuit  en  in 
den  Landem  Deutscher  Zunge.  In  English  there  are  several  chapters  in 
Leck/s  Rationalism  in  Europe;  and  others  in  White's  Warfare  of  Science; 
Scott's  Letters  on  Demonology  and  Witchcraft;  Wright's  Narratives  of 
Sorcery  and  Magic;  the  little  collection  of  extracts  from  original  sources, 
edited  by  George  Lincoln  Burr,  entitled  "The  Witch  Persecutions,"  in  the 
University  of  Pennsylvania  series  of  Translations  and  Reprints;  Burr's 
The  Fate  of  Dietrich  Flade;  and  Notestein's  interesting  and  authentic 
History  of  Witchcraft  in  England. 


598  LIST  OF  REFERENCES 

CHAPTER  XXI     . 

THE  RISE  OF  THE  JESUITS 

A  great  mass  of  original  source  material  relating  to  the  Society  of  Jetui 
and  its  early  leaders,  including  the  fundamental  documents  of  the  Order 
(its  ConstituHones  and  Decreta  Congregationum  Generalimwi,  its 
Regulae,  and  its  Rationes  Studiorum),  is  in  coarse  of  publication.  The 
volumes  that  have  appeared  are  listed,  for  the  most  part,  in  the  bibli- 
ographies appended  to  the  articles  on  Ignatius  Lojfola  and  on  the  So- 
ciety of  Jesus  in  The  Catholic  Encyclopedia  and  in  The  Encyclopedia 
Britanmca. 

For  the  life  of  the  founder  of  the  Order  see  his  autobiography,  com- 
municated to  Gonzilez  de  Camara,  translated  into  English  by  Rix,  and 
published  under  the  title  of  The  Testament  of  Ignatius  Loyola.  There  it 
also  another  translation  into  Englbh  by  O'Connor,  entitled  The  Auto- 
biography of  Ignatius  Loyola.  Hundreds  of  biographies  of  Ignatius  have 
been  written.  Perhaps  next  to  the  Autobiography  in  point  of  time  is  the 
Vita  Ignatii  Loiolae  by  Polanco,  who,  towards  the  end  of  Loyola's  life, 
was  the  saint's  secretary.  It  is  to  be  found  in  the  Monumenta  historica 
Societas  lesu,  which,  as  already  stated,  is  now  in  course  of  publication. 
Ribadeneira,  who  in  his  youth  was  associated  with  Loyola,  wrote  a  life 
of  the  great  leader  in  Spanish.  It  has  been  translated  into  French,  and 
edited  by  Clair,  under  the  title  of  La  Vie  de  Sain$  Ignace,  Another  early 
biography  is  that  by  Bartoli,  written  in  Latin,  of  which  the  best  modem 
edition,  published  under  the  title  of  Histoire  de  Saint  Ignace,  is  that  hf 
Michel.  Of  the  numerous  lives  written  in  later  times  the  following  are 
among  the  best  Genelli's  Das  Leben  des  heUigen  Ignatius  von  Loyola, 
which  has  been  translated  into  English;  Henri  Joli's  Saint  Ignace  de 
Loyola,  one  of  the  best  of  the  briefer  books,  which  also  has  been  done  into 
English;  and  a  recent  one  by  Francis  Thompson,  the  English  poet.  Life 
of  Saint  Ignatius,  beautifully  illustrated.  See  also  Watrigant's  interesting 
study  La  gendse  des  exercises  de  Saint  Ignace  de  Loyola. 

For  the  first  associates  of  Ignatius,  as  well  as  for  Ignatius  himself,  see 
the  very  useful  and  well-illustrated  Saint  Ignatius  and  the  Early  lesuits, 
by  Stewart  Rose  (nom  de  plume  of  Caroline  Stewart  Erskine)  ;  Pise's 
The  Founders  of  the  lesuits;  Taylor's  Loyola  and  lesuitism  in  its  Rudi- 
ments; Coleridge's  The  Life  and  Letters  of  Saint  Francis  Xavier;  Muller's 
Les  origines  de  la  Cotnpagnie  de  Nsus,  in  which  the  author  endeavors  to 
establish  a  Mohammedan  origin  for  many  of  Loyola's  ideas;  and  the 
eloquent  essay  on  "  Ignatius  Loyola  and  his  Associates  '*  by  Sir  James 
Stephen  in  his  Essays  in  Ecclesiastical  Biography. 

The  organization  of  the  Order  may  best  be  studied  in  its  fundamental 
documents,  which  we  have  already  mentioned;  and,  after  them,  in  the 
encyclopedia  articles;  in  Cartwright's  The  lesuits,  their  Constitution  and 
Teaching;  and  in  Heimbucher's  Die  Orden  und  Kongregationen.  Its  edu- 
cational methods  may  be  studied  in  Hughes's  Loyola  and  the  Educational 
System  of  the  lesuits;  and  in  Schwickerath's  lesuit  Education. 

For  the  history  of  the  Order  one  may  select  out  of  the  great  mass  of 
literature  on  the  subject  the  notable  essay  by  Macaulay  on  Ranke's  His- 
tory of  the  Popes;  the  Httle  book  by  Ward  on  The  Counter-Reformation; 
the  sixth  chapter  of  Wishart's  Monks  and  Monasticism;  Symonds's  The 
Catholic  Reaction,  written  in  a  spirit  of  animosity ;  Philippson's  La  contre- 


LIST  OF  REFERENCES  599 

rivoluHon  nligieuse  au  16*  siicle;  Laurent's  Les  guerres  de  religion,  a 
book  that  displays  something  of  its  author's  fine  synthetic  power;  Got- 
hein's  Ignatius  von  Loyola  und  die  Gegenreformation,  one  of  the  very 
best  books  on  the  subject,  and  one  which,  as  the  title  indicates,  relates  to 
most  of  our  succeeding  diapters ;  Bohmer's  Les  Jisuites,  translated  from 
the  German  into  French  by  Monod,  who  has  written  an  excellent  introduc- 
tion to  the  volume;  Reusdh's  Beitrage  sur  GeschichU  der  Jesuiten;  Taun- 
ton's History  of  the  Jesuits  in  England;  Brou's  Concerning  Jesuits; 
Tacchi-Venturi's  Storia  della  Compagnia  di  Gesit  in  Italia;  Duhr's  sdiol- 
arly  and  sincere  Gesckichte  der  Jesuiten  in  den  Ldndem  deutscher  Zunge; 
Droyscn's  Gesckichte  der  Gegenreformation;  Philippson's  JVest-Europa 
tm  Zeitalter  von  Philipp  II;  Cretineau  Jol/s  Histoire  de  la  Compagnie  de 
Jisus;  Guett^'s  Histoire  des  Jisuites;  Wolff's  Allgemeine  Gesckichte  der 
Jesuiten;  Fouqueray's  inclusive,  credulous,  and  sharply  partisan  Histoire 
de  la  Compagnie  de  Jisus  en  France;  and  McCabe's  Candid  History  of  the 
Jesuits, 


CHAPTER  XXII 

THE  COUNCIL  OF  TRENT 

The  religious  crisis  at  the  middle  of  the  sixteenth  century  may  be 
studied  in  the  church  histories,  the  general  histories,  and  the  national 
histories,  whose  titles  have  already  been  given;  and  in  such  general 
works,  given  as  references  for  the  chapter  immediately  preceding  this,  as 
Gothein's  Ignatius  von  Loyola  und  die  Gegenreformation. 

All  the  original  sources  for  the  history  of  the  Council,  ably  edited,  are 
in  process  of  publication  by  the  body  of  German  Catholic  scholars,  organ- 
ized in  1876,  known  as  the  Gorres-Gesellschaft  (Societas  Goerresiana), 
named  after  the  historian  Johann  Joseph  von  Gorres.  The  great  work  is 
entitled  Concilium  Tridentinum:  diariorum,  actorum,  epistularum,  tracta- 
tuum  nova  collectio.  There  are  older  collections  of  sources,  of  course, 
but  all  of  them  are  incomplete.  They  are  listed  in  most  of  the  enc3rclo- 
pedia  articles  on  the  subject,  especially  in  the  Britannica, 

One  of  the  standard  histories  of  the  Council  is  still  "the  brilliant  old 
book  of  the  Rome-hating  Venetian  statesman.  Father  Paul  Sarpi,"  Istoria 
del  concilio  tridentino,  **  accessible  to  us  in  the  quaint  old  English  version 
of  Brent";  and  another  is  "its  elaborate  refutation,"  by  the  Jesuit  priest 
and  cardinal,  Pallavicini,  entitled  Istoria  del  concilio  di  Trento,  "enriched 
in  its  French  translation  by  valuable  additions."  Following  these  it  might 
be  well  to  read  Brischar's  Zur  BeurteUung  der  Kontroversen  ewiscken 
Sarpi  und  Pallavicini,  A  more  general  work,  of  which  the  third  and  fourth 
volumes  relate  to  our  subject,  is  Wessenberg's  Die  grosscn  Kirchenver- 
sammlungen;  and  in  the  third  volume  of  Moeller's  Lehrbuck  der  Kircken- 
gesckickte,  and  the  third  volume  of  Hergenrother's  Handbuck  der  aUege- 
meinen  Kirckengeschichte  (the  new  edition  of  1909,  by  Kirsch),  general 
accounts  of  the  Council  and  its  work  will  be  found.  See  also  Dejob's  De 
finAuence  du  Concile  de  Trente;  and  Dollingcr's  essay  on  the  Council  in 
his  Kleinere  Sckriften.  In  English  the  best  Catholic  history  of  the  Council, 
aside  from  the  article  in  Tke  Catkolic  Encyclopedia,  is  that  by  Waterford, 
which  also  contains  an  English  translation  of  the  Canons  and  Decrees  of 
the  Council    And  in  our  own  language  one  may  read  Bungener's  History 


of  the  Council  of  Trent,  translated  from  the  French,  and  Froude's  pungent 
Lectures  on  the  Council  of  Trent. 

Particular  aspects  of  the  Council  are  treated  in  Deslandres's  Le  CotteiU 
de  TretUe,  el  la  riforme  du  clergf;  in  Korle's  Die  KoHeiUpoMik  Karii  V ; 
'  in  Kassowiu's  Die  Reformvorsckldge  Ferdinands  /;  in  Hefner's  Enltlf- 
kuHgsgeschichle  dei  trirnter  Rechtfertigungsdekretes;  and  in  Prurobs's  Dit 
Sleltung  del  TrienterkomiU  su  der  Frage  narh  dem  H'esen  der  hriltg- 
machendcH  Gnade. 

For  the  Popes  of  the  period  see  the  ecclesiastical  and  papal  hisloriet,  and 
add  to  them  Dumy's  Le  Cardinal  Carlo  Caraffa. 

For  the  Index  Librorum  Prohibitorum  see  Reusch's  Der  Index  der 
verbotenen  BUcher,  in  every  respect  the  most  important  book  on  the  sub- 
ject; Arndt's  De  Libris  t-rohibitis  eommenlarii;  Hilger's  Der  Index  der 
verbotenen  Bueher;  Vermeersch's  De  prohtbitione  et  eensura  librorum; 
Mendham's  Literary  Policy  of  the  Church  of  Rome;  Putnam's  The  Cm- 
torship  of  the  Church  of  Rome,  the  largest  book  on  the  subject  in  Eriglisb, 
based  very  largely  upon  Reusch,  but  lajnentably  inaccurate;  and  Betten'i 
little  book,  The  Roman  Index  of  Forbidden  Books,  written  for  Catholic 


The  Catftkitm  of  tlie  Comal  of  Treat,.  CitadkinMu  Romamtu,  •Av  Ai 
orismal  Italian  text  itas  miMd  bf  Cailo  Bomaiita,  wu  tviwd  kto 
■fcunt  I^tin  br  tiw  ittaem  haam^ttt  Joliat  Fo|bunl.nid  Vmdtm  Ifan- 
tfau;  and,  hf  oomiiMuid  of  Ffna  V,  it  mt  tou^tedblD  UOlMtt,  ft—ty 

Duxrran,  vat  poblidied  b  i8ag  at  DabliiL    A  awn  dataat  MnittiM 
iato  English  it  that  bgr  Bodtkr,  pabUted  ia  iSss  at  Lomlod. 
'  Aa  artide  oo  the  famow  boll  f«  cMm  D»mW  iM  te  fawd  fa  Tht 
CtUwUc  Bmtydopu^o  (7717-18).  t»  iriiiA  Mrctal  ■ 


CHAPTER  XXin 
THE  TRIUMPH  OF  ICIUTANT  CATHOUCISK 

Hary  of  the  references  given  for  the  two  chapters  immediatelj  pre- 
ceding this  will  be  found  useful  for  the  study  we  have  now  in  hand. 
They  will  often  be  found  far  more  useful  than  the  more  special  refer- 
ences given  here,  and  certainly  they  are  more  available.  Not  to  be 
forgotten  is  the  scholarly  and  stimulating  Stoat  und  Geselltchaft  ies 
Ztitidters  der  Cegenrefonnation  hj  Gothein.  which  will  be  found  tuefnl 
for  almost  all  our  remaining  chapters  as  well  as  for  this  one. 

There  is  a  contemporary  life  of  Pius  V,  in  the  Vttae  et  gettae  sutHmerum 
PontiAcum  romanorum,  by  Ciaconius.  Mendham's  Life  and  PontiScate  of 
Saint  Pius  V  is  extremely  controversial;  Falloux's  Histoire  dt  Sainl  Pit  V 
is  highly  eulogistic;  while  Hillger's  Die  Wah!  Pint  V  it  quite  a  weU- 
balanced  book.  There  is  also  an  interesting  article  on  this  Pope  in  the 
forty-ninth  vdutne  of  The  Dublin  Review. 

For  the  work  of  Carlo  Borromeo,  cardinal  and  saint  of  the  Catholic 
Church,  see  Giussano's  Life  of  Saint  Carlo  Borromeo,  one  of  the  three 
lives  written  by  contemporaries,  translated  into  English ;  Canon  Sylvain's 
Histoire  de  Saint  Charles  Borromie;  and,  more  valuable  than  either  of 
these,  Cantono's  Un  grande  riformatore  del  secolo  XVI. 

It  might  be  wen  at  this  point  to  speak  of  the  Acta  Sanctorum,  a  great 
woric  that  deals  with  the  lives  of  men  and  women  canomaed  by  the  Cadnlic 


LIST  OF  REFERENCES  6oi 

Church.  It  was  begun  in  the  first  years  of  the  seventeenth  century.  The 
first  volume  was  edited  by  Father  John  van  Bolland,  of  the  Sodety  of 
Jesus ;  and  since  then  the  collaborators  have  been  known  as  the  Bollandists. 
The  idea  of  the  work  was  first  conceived  by  Heribert  Rosweyde,  who  also 
was  a  Jesuit  The  work  now  consists  of  more  than  three  score  volumes, 
and  it  is  still  incomplete. 

The  character  and  work  of  Gregory  XIII  may  be  studied  in  the  con- 
temporary biography  by  Cicarella,  continuator  of  the  gossipy  and  inter- 
esting Platina,  in  De  vitis  pontifF,  Rom.;  in  the  life  by  Ciaconius,  which  is 
to  be  found  in  the  work  by  him  already  cited ;  in  Ciappi's  Comp,  dell*  attioni 
€  santa  vita  di  Gregorio  XIII;  in  Bompiano's  Hist,  pontificatus  Gregorii 
XIII;  and  in  Maffei's  Annates  Gregorii  XIII,  For  the  correction  of  the 
calendar  see  the  articles  in  the  various  encyclopedias  under  the  heading 
*"  Calendar." 

For  the  activity  of  the  Jesuits  in  the  various  countries  see  the  references 
already  given  on  the  history  of  their  Order;  and  add  to  them  Pollard's 
The  Jesuits  in  Poland;  Duhr's  Die  Jesuiten  an  den  deutschen  Fiirstenhofen; 
Lohr's  Der  Kampf  um  Paderhom;  Keller's  Die  Ge genre  formation  in  West- 
falen  und  am  Niederrhein;  and  Astrain's  Historia  de  la  CompaHia  de 
Jesus  en  la  Asistencia  de  EspaHa, 

There  is  an  article  on  the  Ratio  Studiorum  in  The  Catholic  Encyclopedia 
(12:654-57),  very  guarded  in  its  statements,  to  which  is  appended  a  select 
bibliography. 

There  is  no  adequate  work  dealing  with  the  revived  Inquisition.  Busch- 
bell's  Reformation  und  Inquisition  in  Italien  has  dealt  with  the  beginnings 
of  it  in  Italy.  Ranke  has  touched  upon  it  in  his  History  of  the  Popes. 
Pastor  has  spoken  about  it  in  dealing  with  the  lives  of  Paul  III  and  Paul 
IV.  And  Fredericq  is  at  work  upon  the  history  of  the  institution  in  the 
Netherlands.  But  it  seems  hopeless  to  expect  a  satisfactory  general  his- 
tory  of  the  subject  until  the  Congregation  of  the  Inquisition  decides  to 
give  access  to  its  records  to  competent  scholars. 

For  the  Index,  in  addition  to  the  books  cited  in  the  references  for  our 
twenty-second  chapter,  see  Reusch's  Die  Indices  librorum  prohibitorum 
des  16.  Jahrhundtrts,  in  which  all  the  sixteenth  century  indexes  have  been 
collected  into  a  single  exhaustive  volume. 

CHAPTER  XXIV 

THE  SPANISH  SUPREMACY 

Bibliographies  are  to  be  found  in  Hume's  Spain,  its  Greatness  and 
Decay;  in  his  The  Spanish  People;  in  Armstrong's  The  Emperor  Charles 
V;  and  in  the  second  volume  (chapter  XV)  and  the  third  volume  (chapter 
XV)  of  The  Cambridge  Modern  History,  Only  a  few  of  the  more 
important  sources,  and  certain  studies  not  included  in  these  bibliographies, 
will  be  given  here. 

Among  the  writings  on  general  Spanish  history  by  Spanish  writers  the 
Estudios  criticos  of  Don  Vicente  de  la  Fuente,  and  Don  Rafael  Altamira's 
Historia  de  Espana,  hold  a  distinguished  place.  A  commendable  book  in 
French  is  Romey's  Histoire  d*Espagne. 

For  the  Moors  in  Spain  see  Lea's  The  Moriscos  of  Spain;  Lane- Poole's 
The  Moors  in  Spain;  Scott's  History  of  the  Moorish  Empire  in  Europe; 
Dory's  Spanish  Islam,  now  fortunately  translated  from  the  French ;  Doz/s 
Histoire  des  Musulmans  d'Espagne;  Codera's  Decadencia  y  desaparicidn 


6o2  UST  OF  REFERENCES 

de  los  Almoravides  en  Espana;  and  Codera's  Bstudios  crUicos  dt  kistoria 
arabe  espanoUk 

The  economic  conditions  of  Spain  are  ably  diacossed  in  Bemajrs's  article 
**  Zur  inneren  Entwicklung  Castiliens  unter  Karl  V  "  in  the  first  vdume  of 
the  Deutsche  Zeitschrift  fur  Geschichtswissensckaft  The  social  conditions 
of  the  time  are  authoritatively  and  interestingly  set  forth  by  Morel-Fatio 
in  his  chapter  on  ''  L'Espagne  du  Don  Qnijote  "  in  Studies  in  European 
Literature  (The  Taylorian  Lectures  iSSi-^)  ;  in  his  Etudes  smr  FEspagne; 
and  in  his  L'Espagne  au  XVP  et  XVW  SUcle,  a  coUection  of  historical 
and  literary  documents.  See  also  Julio  Puyol  y  Alonso's  Estado  social  que 
re/Uja  '  El  Quijote ';  and  Havelock  Ellis's  The  Soul  of  Spain,  a  book  of 
penetrating  insight  by  a  scholar  unusually  gifted  and  trained  for  sudi  a 
study. 

Of  books  that  relate  specially  to  Philip  II  see  Fomeron's  Histoire  de 
Philippe  II,  in  which  the  personal  equation  is  a  disturbing  element;  Hume's 
Philip  II,  a  fair-minded  book,  with  a  good  bibliography,  l^  a  notable 
authority ;  Hume's  Two  English  Queens  and  Philip  II,  written  eleven  years 
after  the  preceding  book ;  De  C6rdoba's  Felipe  II;  Clauzel's  PhiUppe  II, 
one  of  the  best  recent  books  that  have  to  do  with  this  somber  sovereign; 
Bratli's  Philippe  II,  roi  d'Espagne,  which  contains  a  good  survey  of 
Spain  in  the  middle  of  the  sixteenth  century;  and  the  essay  on  Philip  in 
Pattison's  Leading  Figures  in  European  History.  For  the  politics  of 
Spain  and  the  Papacy  see  Herre's  Papsttum  und  Papstwahl  im  Zeitalter 
Philipps  IL  See  also  the  English  translation  of  GjAoma's  Don  Juan  of 
Austria. 

CHAPTER  XXV 

THE  REVOLT  OF  THE  NETHERLANDS 

Lists  of  references  relating  to  the  subject  are  to  be  found  in  Blok's 
History  of  the  People  of  the  Netherlands;  in  both  volumes  of  Putnam*s 
IVilliam  the  Silent;  in  Harrison's  William  the  Silent;  in  Squire's  Wil- 
Ham  the  Silent;  and  (for  the  sixth,  seventh,  and  nineteenth  chapters) 
in  the  third  volume  of   The  Cambridge  Modern  History. 

Of  derived  sources  one  naturally  thinks  first  of  all  of  Motley's  classic 
work  The  Rise  of  the  Dutch  Republic,  of  its  continuation  The  History  of 
the  United  Netherlands,  and  of  The  Life  and  Death  of  John  Bameveld; 
but  these  works,  eloquent  and  scholarly  though  they  be,  arc  colored  with 
the  pronounced  views  of  their  author  and  they  must  therefore  be  rectified 
by  the  work  of  more  dispassionate  writers.  Four  such  historians  and  their 
works  we  have  already  named;  and  to  them  we  may  add  Pirenne*s  His- 
toire de  Belgique;  Laurent's  Les  guerres  de  religion;  Nameche's  Guillaume 
le  Taciturne  ct  la  rh;olution  des  Pays-Bas;  Rachfahl's  Margaretha  von 
Parma;  Stirling-Maxweirs  Don  John  of  Austria;  and  Gossart's  L'etablis- 
sement  du  Regime  Espagnol  dans  les  Pays-Bas  et  V Insurrection,  the  last  of 
which,  like  the  books  by  Pirenne  and  Blok,  emphasizes  the  political  rather 
than  the  religious  causes  of  the  revolt. 

CHAPTER  XXVI 

THE  RELIGIOUS  WARS  IN  FRANCE 

The  literature  of  the  subject  is  listed  in  Monod's  Bibliographie  de 
rhistoire  de  France,  and  in  the  bibliographies  of  Lavisse  and  Rambaud's 


LIST  OF  REFERENCES  603 

Hisioke  GinSrale,  Lavisse's  Histoire  de  France,  the  third  and  fourth  vol- 
umes of  Hauser's  Les  Sources  de  Vhistoire  de  France,  and  the  third  vol- 
ume of  The  Cambridge  Modern  History,  Many  of  the  abundant  memoires 
of  the  time  are  included  in  great  collections,  and  to  these  Franklin's  Les 
sources  de  Thistoire  de  France  furnishes  a  convenient  key. 

General  descriptions  of  this  tumultuous  time  are  to  be  found  in  the  his- 
tories already  named ;  and  in  Macdonald's  History  of  France;  Armstrong's 
The  French  Wars  of  Religion;  Baird's  The  Rise  of  the  Huguenots;  Baird's 
The  Huguenots  and  Henry  of  Navarre;  Thompson's  The  Wars  of  Religion 
m  France;  and  Ranke's  Ciinl  Wars  and  Monarchy  in  France,  translated 
from  the  German. 

Among  books  dealing  with  aspects  and  personages  of  the  time  the  fol- 
lowing are  useful.  Sichel's  Catherine  de*  Medici  and  the  French  Reformer 
Hon;  Fomeron's  Les  Guise  et  leur  ipoque;  Decrue's  Anne,  due  de  Mont- 
morency;  Marcks's  Gaspard  von  Coligny;  Whitehead's  Gaspard  de  Coligny; 
Merid's  U Admiral  de  Coligny;  Besant's  Gaspard  de  Coligny;  White's  The 
Massacre  of  Saint  Bartholomew;  Atkinson's  Michel  de  f Hospital;  and 
WiUerfs  Henry  of  Navarre. 

CHAPTER  XXVII 

PAPACY  AND  EMPIKE 

For  works  that  relate  to  the  Empire  see  the  Quellenkunde  der  deutschen 
Geschichte  of  Dahlmann-Waitz-Steindorff ;  Jastrow's  Jahresberichte  der 
Geschichtswissenschaften;  and  Loewe's  Bucherkunde  der  deutschen  G#- 
schichte.  See  also  the  bibliography  for  the  fifth  and  twenty-first  chapters 
of  the  third  volume  of  The  Cambridge  Modem  History;  and  also  fhe  lists 
of  references  appended  to  the  pertinent  biographies  in  the  Allgemeine 
Deutsche  Biographie,  Many  of  the  general  histories  of  Germany  already 
enumerated  will  be  found  useful  for  this  study.  And  to  them  should 
be  added  Ranke's  Zur  deutschen  Geschichte  vom  Religionsfrieden  bis 
sum  sojahrigen  Kriege;  Stubb's  Lectures  on  European  History;  Kaser's 
Deutsche  Geschichte  sur  Zeit  Maximilians  I;  Scherg's  Ueber  die  reUgiose 
Entwicklung  Kaiser  Maximilians  //;  Droysen's  Geschichte  der  Gegenre' 
formation;  Ritter's  Der  Augsburger  Religionsfriede;  Wolf's  Der  Augs- 
burger  Religionsfriede;  Von  Bezold's  Staat  und  Gesellschaft  des  Refor- 
mationszeitalters,  and  Gothein's  Staat  und  Gesellschaft  des  Zeitalters  der 
Gegenre formation,  which  will  be  found  to  be  admirable  summaries  of  the 
second  and  third  periods  of  our  book. 

Books  for  the  study  of  the  reforming  Papacy  have  been  mentioned  in 
preceding  lists  of  references.  They  arc,  for  the  most  part,  church  his- 
tories, histories  of  the  Papacy,  and  histories  of  the  Counter-Reformation 
or  the  Catholic  Reaction.  These  should  now  be  supplemented  with  the 
biographies  of  the  Popes  of  this  period  and  with  other  books  that  relate 
specially  to  them.  Chapter  thirteen  of  the  third  volume  of  The  Cambridge 
Modern  History  is  an  excellent  description  of  the  character  and  work  of 
Sixtus  V,  and  a  very  complete  bibliography  is  appended.  See  also  Von 
Hubner's  Sixte-Quint,  which  has  been  translated  into  English.  It  may  be 
well  to  call  attention  once  more  to  Von  Ranke's  masterly  History  of  the 
Popes  and  to  the  suggestive  and  stimulating  essay  on  it  by  Macaulay. 

For  the  theological  divisions  among  the  Protestants  see  the  list  of 
books  that  relate  to  the  schisms  included  in  the  references  for  our 
eighteenth  chaptei. 


6q4  UST  of  references 


CHAPTER  XXVm 

KAGTAS  AND  SLAV 

The  most  important  of  the  recent  histories  of  Honguy  In  the  Macytr 
or  Hmigarian  knguage  b  tiie  Hitiory  of  thg  Hmmffonam  NaOom  by 
SdUigyl  and  many  coUaborators;  and  of  considerable  Tahie  is  AcsMy's 
History  of  tkt  Magyar  Empirg.  Sifligyl's  Hmmgarim  Hisioricai  Bioi- 
rmpkuM  is  a  dictionary  of  national  biography^  well  iUustrated,  by  msqy 
notable  scholars.  Of  the  books  on  Umguy  in  Frendi  one  magr  nssd 
Sayous's  Histoire  giniraU  dos  Hongrois;  and  Ch^lard's  La  Hongrk 
wUUntttTt.  In  EngKsh  there  are  Knstchhnll-Hngesscn*s  Tkt  PoHHetU  Boo- 
Imtion  of  ik$  Humgariam  NoHon;  AodrUafu  The  Developmoui  of  HuO' 
gariam  ConsHiuHonal  IJboriy,  translated  from  the  Frencht  more  valnable 
for  a  later  period  than  our  own;  and  Vimb^s  Origin  of  iko  Magyars, 
the  work  of  a  Hoogarian  scholar  who  made  himself  fsmoos  as  an  Orien- 
talist liany  of  the  books  on  Anstria  are  nsefnl  for  the  stodj  of  Hibh 
gai7,  and  of  these  Leger's  History  of  Amstna-Hmmgary,  translated  from 
the  French,  Ruber's  Geuhichis  Ossterrichs,  and  Drage's  A%siria'Hamgary$ 
may  be  mentioned. 

For  Transylvania  (the  name  in  German  ia  Sichenbdigen)  see  Bids^s 
SiehioMiirgtiu 

The  histories  of  the  Turks  enumerated  in  the  references  for  prefkws 
chapters  and  some  of  those  contained  in  the  bibliQgrai^  for  the  fbardi 
diapter  of  the  third  voknne  of  Ths  Cambridge  Modam  History  will  also 
be  found  serviceable  for  our  present  study. 

For  a  bibliogr^>fay  of  Poland  see  the  one  for  the  third  diaptcr  of  Ae 
tiiird  volume  of  The  Cambridge  Modem  History.  AnKWg  the  books  ia 
the  language  of  the  country  are  Sxujski's  monumental  History  of  Polaad, 
and  Sokolowdd's  lUustrated  History  of  Poland.  In  German  there  are 
Roepell  and  Caro's  Geschichte  Polens,  and  Schiemann's  Rmsland,  Pokn 
and  Livland,  In  French  there  is  De  Noailles's  Henri  de  Vaiois  et  la 
Pologne.  And  in  English  there  are  Morfill's  Poland,  and  Bain's  Slavonic 
Enrope,  the  latter  of  which  is  also  useful  for  the  other  Slavonic  countries. 

A  good  bibliography  of  Russia  is  contained  in  the  seventeenth  volume 
of  The  Times  edition  (1907)  of  The  Historians'  History  of  the  World, 
where  also  will  be  found  considerable  extracts  from  Russian  works  not 
elsewhere  to  be  found  in  English.  The  two  most  important  secondary  his- 
tories of  Russia  are  Karamzin*s  work,  translated  into  French,  and 
Soloviev*s  monumental  work,  which,  though  inferior  to  the  former  as 
literature,  greatly  surpasses  it  in  authentic  scholarship,  but  which,  unfortu- 
nately, remains  inaccessible  to  all  of  us  who  do  not  read  Russian.  Of  the 
many  other  books  that  deal  with  the  early  history  of  the  great  empire 
these  may  be  commended.  MorfilFs  Russia;  Morfill's  History  of  Rnssuh 
which,  however,  begins  only  with  the  birth  of  Peter  the  Great;  Munro's 
Rise  of  the  Russian  Empire;  Rambaud's  History  of  Russia,  translated  from 
the  French;  Schiemann's  Russland,  Polen  nnd  Livland;  Waliszewski's  La 
Crise  rivolutionnaire ;  and,  for  the  relations  of  Russia  with  the  Papacy, 
Pierling's  Russie  et  le  Saint-Siige.  Of  great  value  are  the  pertinent  chap- 
ters in  the  Histoire  Ginirale  of  Lavisse  and  Rambaud. 

The  publications  of  the  Hakluyt  Society,  of  which  we  have  spoken  pre- 
viously, include  accounts  of  the  journeys  of  Chancellor,  Jenkinson,  Fletcher 
and  Horsey  to  these  eaCston  Jtfpds  and  beyond  them. 


LIST  OF  REFERENCES  605 

CHAPTER  XXIX 

THE  REPUBLIC  OF  LETTERS 

For  general  introductions  to  the  study  of  the  Republic  of  Letters  and 
also  to  that  of  the  Republic  of  Art  see  the  passages  relating  to  the  intel- 
lectual tendency  of  the  age  in  the  first  volume  of  Von  Ranke's  History 
of  the  Popis;  Symond's  two  volumes  on  The  Catholic  Reaction,  which 
are  stamped  with  a  vigorous  anti-clerical  spirit;  and  Gothein's  Stoat  und 
GeselUchaft  des  Zeitaiters  der  Gegenre formation. 

The  Ciceronians  may  be  stucfied  in  Sandys's  History  of  Classical 
Scholarship;  in  Hauvette's  Littirature  italienne;  and  in  other  histories 
of  Italian  literature.  For  the  influence  of  Erasmus  see,  in  addition  to  the 
lives  of  the  great  humanist  mentioned  in  the  references  for  our  eleventh 
chapter,  Dilthe/s  eloquent  Weltanschauung  und  Analyse  des  Menschen 
seit  Renaissance  und  Reformation,  which  constitutes  the  second  volume  of 
his  Gesammelte  Schriften.  The  results  of  the  Lutheran  schism  and  of  the 
Protestant  dissensions  upon  literature  and  art  are  nowhere  stated  better 
than  in  Beard's  The  Reformation  of  the  Sixteenth  Century.  In  Gothein's 
book,  already  mentioned,  the  results  of  the  Catholic  Reformation  to  letters 
and  art  are  clearly  set  forth. 

The  philosophers  are  treated  in  a  most  satisfactory  way  in  Dilthejr's 
Schriften  and  in  the  various  histories  of  philosophy.  For  Giordano  Bruno 
see  MTntyre's  Giordano  Bruno;  Owen's  Skeptics  of  the  Italian  Renais- 
sance; Adamson's  Development  of  Modem  Philosophy;  Louis's  Giordano 
Bruno  seine  IVeltanschauung  und  LebensaufFassung ;  Reiner's  Giordano 
Bruno  und  seine  Weltanschauung;  Gentile's  Bruno  nella  Storia  della  cuU 
tura;  and,  of  great  value,  Brinton  and  Davidson's  Giordano  Bruno, 
Carriere's  Philosophische  Weltanschauung  der  Reformationsseit  deals  wiUi 
other  thinkers  of  the  time  as  well  as  with  Bruno.  For  Montaigne  see 
Bonne fon's  Montaigne,  Vhomme  et  fctuvre;  Stapfer's  Montaigne,  a  notable 
book;  Sichel's  Michel  de  Montaigne;  Emerson's  Representative  Men;  and 
Pater's  graceful  story  Gaston  de  Latour,  which  remains  unfinished.  There 
is  a  reliable  translation  of  Montaigne's  Essays  by  Cotton  and  Hazlitt;  and 
Waters  has  put  The  Journal  of  Montaigne's  Travels  into  English  in  a  very 
acceptable  manner. 

For  the  philologians,  printer-publishers,  jurists,  and  publicists,  see  the 
articles  in  the  encyclopedias  with  their  bibliographies,  and  see,  too,  the 
histories  of  literature  and  of  the  Roman  Law.  The  second  and  the  twenty- 
second  chapters  of  the  third  volume  of  The  Cambridge  Modem  History, 
together  with  their  bibliographies,  are  both  convenient  and  useful.  There 
are,  of  course,  special  books  that  deal  with  these  men,  such  as  Brown's 
George  Buchanan,  Humanist  and  Reformer,  of  which  the  bibliographies 
will  furnish  information. 

The  historians,  poets,  dramatists,  and  novelists  are  to  be  studied  in  the 
histories  of  literature  enumerated  in  the  references  for  our  fifth  and  nine- 
teenth chapters  and  in  Hannay's  The  Later  Renaissance,  Of  books  that 
deal  with  historians,  special  attention  may  be  called  to  Courteault's  Blaise 
de  Monluc,  an  unusually  scholarly  book.  For  the  poets  the  following  books 
are  recommended.  Rosini's  edition  of  Tasso's  works.  Boulting's  Tasso, 
an  excellent  biography.  For  all  the  French  writers  included  in  our  pres- 
ent study,  see  Petit  de  Julleville's  Histoire  de  la  langue  et  de  la  littiraturt 
frangaises,  whose  chapters,  written  by  different  authors,  are  of  unequal 
merit,  and  whose  bibliographies  are  particularly  valuable.    The  Manual  of 


.: ;   i-<o   Dy   Cust, —  The   Men 

-  •:  ?*rdrizet*s  Ronsard  ct  la  r 

J   F.-'iSjrd  and  La  Pleiade; 

■.  *\'nzissance ;  the  essay  on  "  R 

:::    :rtf   on   *'  Montaigne,"    in 

•;.\2   e   I'ida;   Braga's   Cam 

.^m::s  e   a   Renasceni^a   cm   P 

-  ->.j::."»n  into   English  of  the  J 

'•.;.*    t^i    the   Study   of   Spcnsi 

.'  ^wy:  Fox  Bourne's  Life  of  Si 

.  :.-e  histories  of  literature,  see 

-•    "^r-nuj;    D'Ancona's    Origini   de 

^  ?j;j::ne;  Fitzmaurice- Kelly's  . 

^        .., — ^••g  i^g  Theatre  au  Portuga 

-.-  .•  -•.'.*urj  ses  origines  jusqu'  a  no 

.    '."K^Jr  classiquc;  Roy's  Etud£ 

i,    .  ■;•  sicde;  Ward's  History  of 

■  ^Hcen  Anne;  Symonds's  Shak 

'nj    Baker's  The  Development  of 

:'x!  Tost  substantial  and  satisfying 

.  ^r..  ."lay-writer;  and  Raleigh's  Shak 

.  .».   ::  z't.<  histories  of  literature,  in  sue 

,  « .-if   ij.v;  Warren's  History  of  tlu 

••.n*^. ;  Bevcr  and  Sansot-Orland's 

s,     vs.r.iih's  The  English  Novel;  ^fen 

.  ^     .-e  of  the  most  remarkable  contr 

T  -..•:  ■:    and  Jusserand's  The  English  } 

.:«:::on  to  these  books  that  are  de> 

..— rr    rhere  are,  of  course,  books  tha 

.  .  •  »<^  such  as  Aspraiz's   Estudio  h\ 

-«^jr.\»"  de  Cervantes;  De  Icaza's  Las 

'i    fs-vvar's  Apuntes  escenicos  cervi 

.'*"  Miguel  de  Cervantes  Saavedr 

-.-t^  :  *i  separate  chapters  in  books. 


LIST  OF  REFERENCES  607 

1889-99);  Schulthciss's  Der  Schelmenroman  der  Spanier;  Garriga's  Estudio 
de  la  Novela  picaresca;  Morel-Fatio's  Etudes  sur  VEspagne;  and  Chand- 
ler's Thi  Literature  of  Roguery, 


CHAPTER  XXX 

THE  REPUBUC  OF  THE  ARTS 

The  study  of  the  architecture  of  the  sunset  period  of  the  Renais- 
sance may  be  pursued  to  advantage  in  the  general  histories  of  the  art 
given  in  the  references  for  our  sixth  and  nineteenth  chapters,  where 
also  will  be  found  the  titles  of  books  suitable  for  the  study  of  the  sculpture 
and  painting  of  this  period.  And  of  books  that  relate  exclusively  to  the 
architecture  of  this  time  the  following  are  recommended.  Fletcher's 
Andrea  Palladia;  Ricci's  Baroque  Architecture  and  Sculpture  \n  Italy, 
profusely  and  admirably  illustrated;  Briggs's  In  the  Heel  of  Italy,  a  charm- 
ing description  of  this  less-frequented  part  of  the  peninsula  in  which 
baroque  architecture  may  be  studied  at  its  best,  and  a  sympathetic  appre- 
ciation of  this  florid  style  of  building.  But  the  best  literature  relating  to 
this  much  berated  style  is  to  be  found  not  in  books  but  in  the  leading 
periodical  architectural  publications  of  Europe  and  America. 

For  the  continuation  of  the  study  of  Venetian  painting  no  better  books 
can  be  found  than  Phillipps's  The  Venetian  School  of  Painting;  Powers's 
Mornings  with  Masters  of  Art;  Berenson's  Venetian  Painters;  and  Ras- 
kin's Stones  of  Venice,  the  last  of  which  is  especially  good  for  the  study 
of  Tintoretto. 

There  are  biographies  of  Veronese  (Paolo  Caliari.  or  Paolo  Cagliari)  by 
Yriarte,  Meisner,  and  Bell.  For  Tintoretto  see  Thode's  Tintoretto;  Hol- 
bom's  Jacopo  Rohusti;  and,  best  of  all,  handsomely  illustrated,  apprecia- 
tive and  authentic  in  its  criticism,  Phillipps*s  Tintoretto.  The  Carracci  and 
their  followers  are  adequately  treated  in  Venturi's  /  Carracci  e  la  loro 
scuola.     See  also  Sweetser's  Guido  Rent, 

The  birth  of  the  new  art  of  music  may  be  studied  to  advantage  in  various 
articles  in  Grove's  Dictionary  of  Music  and  Musicians,  especially  in  the 
article  on  Palestrina;  in  The  Oxford  History  of  Music;  and  in  Eitner's 
Quellenlexicon,  For  the  rise  of  the  Oratorio  see  (20:161-64)  the  article 
in  the  Britannica;  and  the  rise  of  the  Opera  (20:121-26)  may  be  studied  in 
the  same  volume. 


INDEX 


IM*t 


INDEX 


Aachen,   religious   difputet  In.   508. 

AbeUro,  Peter,  precursor  of  the  modem 
world,  65.  72,  145,  148,  150:  his 
opposition  to  the  doctrine  of  im> 
plicit  faith,   146. 

Academies,  the  first  group  of  literary 
men,  93;  their  advantages,  96; 
the  Platonic  Academy  of  Florence, 
96-98;    the    Academy    of    Naples, 

1 02. 

Aconzio,   Giacomo,   advocate  of  religious 

tolerance,  36a. 
Acquaviva,  Qaudio,  fifth  general  of  the 

Jesuits,  450-5S. 
Adexi.  181. 

Adolt  (of  Nassau),  Emperor,  19-Jo. 
Adrian   VI    (Adrian   Dedel),    Pope,    235, 

a37f  3>7->8. 
Agrippa,  (>omelius,   free-thinker,  J56. 
Agricola,    (jeorge    ((George    Bauer),   Or- 

man    mineralogist,    135. 

John,  Lutheran  theologian,   3S4« 
fichael,  Finnish  humanist  and  Luth- 
eran reformer,  309. 
(Roelof  Huysmann),  (jerman  human- 
is^    SI  I. 
Ailly,    Pierre    d',   conciliar   theorist,    156. 
Albert    I    (of    Hapsburg),    Emperor,    so. 
II  (of  Hapsburg),  JBmperor,  24. 
Duke  of  Prussia,   238-39. 
Alberti    Leo    Battista,    as    a    writer    of 
Italian  prose,  99;  as  an  architect, 
no. 
Albertus   Magnus,    as   a  philosopher  and 
scientist,   is6^   133.    134;  his  advo- 
cacy  of   implicit   faith,    147. 
Albigenses.    65,    67. 
Albizzi,  Rinaldo  oegli,  Florentine  leader, 

45-46. 

Albomoz,  Cardinal,  administrator  of  the 
Papal    State.    44. 

Albret,  Jeanne  d ,  Queen  of  Navarre, 
304,    489. 

Albuquerque,  Alfonso,  Portuguese  of- 
ficial,   181. 

*,  ^  ^    >  ®^»  *®^  ^*5»  455  . 

Alchemy,  as  the  forerunner  of  chemistry, 

.    .»33-3^ 


Alcali,  University  of,  ao8,  415,  459. 
Akiati,  ^^ndrea,    Italian    legal    scholar. 


Aldegonde,  Mamix  of  St,  479. 
Aleander,   Cardinal  Girolamo,   324. 
Aleman,  Mateo.   Spanish  novelist,   547. 
Alengon,  Francis  (youngest  son  of  Cath- 
erine de'  Medici),  Dtdce  of,  after- 
wards Duke  of  Anjou.  495,  496. 
Alexander  V  (Pietro  PhiUrgi),  Pope,  15, 
156. 
VI  (Rodrigo  Borgia),  Pope,  los,  195. 
Alfonso  V   (the  Magnanimous).  King  of 
Aragon,  Sicily,  and  Naples,  40-47, 
loa. 
XI.  King  of  Castile,  47. 
I.  Igng  of  Portugal,  47. 
V,   Kfaig  of  Portugal,   i80b 
Algebni,  «##  Mathcmatica. 
Aifanaar, 


siege  of,  48J. 


611 


Almanac-fflakers,   953,  408. 

Alva,  Fernando  Alvares  de  Toledo,  Dnktt 
of,  Spanish  general,  469,  471, 
480-82. 

Amadis  of  Gaul,  413,  548. 

Amboise,  *' Tumult^'  of,  490;  Pacification 
of  (1^63),  49s. 

Amsdorf,  Nicholas,  on  the  results  of  the 
Protestant  Revolution  to  morals, 
365-66. 

Anabaptists,  not  to  be  identified  with 
the  "prophets"  of  Zwickau,  235; 
at  Zurich,  272%  Zwiuffli's  opposi- 
tion to  certain  of  Uieir  views, 
a8i;  their  first  appearance,  346; 
their  views,  346-47;  their  lead- 
ciVf  347-^9;  their  persecution, 
349;   at  Munster,  349*50. 

Anatomy,  revival  of  research  in,  135-36. 

Andelot,  Francois  d*,  French  Protestant, 
304. 

Andr^,  St.  Marshal  of  France,  491. 

Andreae.  Jacob,  on  the  results  of  the 
Protestant  Revolution  to  morals; 
366. 

Andrew  of  Hungary,  his  activity  in 
Naples,  38,  A2, 

Angelico,  Fra,  Italian  painter.  11S-19, 
isi. 

Anglican    State   Church,    34(. 

Angouleme,  Margaret  of,  French  prin- 
cess and  humanist,  285,  (47. 

Anjou    in    south    Italy,    first    House    of, 
%%\  second  House  of,  42,  46. 
Henry      (of     Valois),     Duke     of 
Alengon    and   of,    i##    Henry   III, 
King  of  France. 

Anne,   daughter  of   Emperor  Maximilian 
II.  fourth  wife  of  Philip  II.  473. 
daughter    of    Maurice    of    Saxony, 
wife  of  William  the  Silent.  478. 

Anselm,  medieval  theolo^an,  his  advo- 
cacy of  implicit  faith,    146. 

Antinomianism,  ^54. 

Antwerp,  iconoclastic  outbreaks  at  479; 
the  "Spanish  Fury"  at  482;  the 
"French  Fury"  at  484;  capture 
of,  48;$. 

Appenzell,  ^  Swiss  canton  of,  278;  its  ad- 
mission to  the  Confederstion.  269. 

Aquinas,  Thomas  of,  medieval  theologian, 
his  advocacy  of  implicit  »ith, 
147-48. 

Arande,  Michel  d*,  French  religious  re- 
tormer,    384. 

Aragon,  its  incorporation  into  Spain, 
47-48;  its  social  character,  xoi; 
Its  various  parts.  456-57;  assertion 
of  its  provincial   nghti,  47J. 

Arc.  Jeanne  d*.  3f-35,  55. 

Aroutecture,  (jothic,  63,  109-10;  early 
Renaissance.  63;  Greek,  108; 
Roman,  xo8;  Classic,  109;  the  r^ 
vival  of,  ii»-ii:  Michelangelo's 
faifluence  upon,  380;  French,  391- 
9a»  54^So;  the  new  clastidran  li^ 
549;  Baroque,  fs^fi- 


Arcuo^  CuiliQjic  di,  lulian  writ 

ArrcntuiA,   461. 

Aifrrepuloi  jHcnct,   Gi«k  tei 

Ariotli>,   LoddvicQ.  37 1-1  y 

Ariiloilc,   dcToiioa    of    Ihc    Middle   Age* 

work!  of,    ni~i6.    in;   u  in  ob- 

Ag«,    iij,    I3j;    bis    pIliloMiitiicil 

ArilhiMfe,   jw'Malhcmlkt 
AroiHiIa,   [hE   Spuiiih.   447,   473,  48J-S& 
Armamac  Party  in  France.  a'-JJ.  3S. 
Aziuuld,  _     Antomc,       Frcocn       Catliotic 

Arquet,    baitle    of,    ^gS. 

Ami,    Uoian    of    Osrg),   483. 

Alt.  lU  relation  to  ViU.  loB-io:  !u  re- 
vival, i,a-iy.  iu  divelopmint. 
jSo-Qj;   the    republic   ol    the   aiti, 

Aitdrefde.    Pbilip    von,    Fleniiib    revolu- 

Ami,     Bemardimi    of,     Italian    preicber, 

Astrakhan,    Tartar  kbanaie   of,    117. 
Aitrolabiv    its    uie    bjr    EiirDpcvu,    1J7, 

Astrology,    u    &    foterunner    of    utron- 

Aniier,  Edmond,  Freocb  Jeiuit  preacher, 

Aiusburg,  as  ■  humanitlic  center,  iiit 
tbe  confeuion  of,  ibi;  the  Diets 
of  (ijio)  a6s-6j.  (IMJ)  t^T, 
Peace  ol  dsis)  a68.  501-06.  509- 

AnsiullDC.  Latin  Church  Father,  hii  ad- 
vocaey  of  Implicit  faith.  145^61 
bia  repiIatioB  of  priestly  life,  151- 

Luther,  uS.  '^'     '*  '"  ""^  """" 
AmcMa  Jili.  a  papal   bull,    le. 
Auilria,    Den    John    of,    oalural    son    of 

Charles  V,   Spaniab  commander  in 

the  Nelherlandi,  471,  483- 
HOLIM    of.    itt    Hapiburg    and    also 

the  naiaec  of  the  varioul  Hapsburg 

Emperora. 
Uariaret    (of   Parma)    of,  JM   ll>r> 

■aret,  of  AuatiU. 
Autoa-jb-fi.  in  Spain,  sjS- 
AuTergne,    William  of,    medieral   theoio- 

Aiuerre,    Williaia    of,    medieral    theoio- 

Avnroca  iAb&i-WaUd  Kn'-i'r-iail  iba- 
Ahmad  Ibn-Uuhanunad  ibn- 
Ruihd).  Arabian  philosopber,  his 
part  in  the  restotatioa  of  the  mUa- 
lOg  books  of  AriMoUe,  ii«i  bia  in- 
fluence  as   a    latiotialiH,    148-40. 


Balance  of   Fower,   lb 
Balearic  Iilcs,  417- 
Ball,  John,  a  leader  of 


the  EogUsb  tocid 


Barnablles,  monattic  ordci,  ]<«- 
Barcechio     (Baroui    da     Vignola),    ( 

como,  Italian  architect,   S49- 
Barociiu,,  Cardinal    Ci!Mt,    Catholic 

Baroque  uctiiecture,  tee  ArcbitectBie. 
Bariiua,  Gaipaiioo  da.  Latin  acholai,  8&.       I 
Basel,  S«Lia  canton,  its  admiwioD  to  the 
Con  federation.    1691    its    character. 


iredeitioBtion.  ]44. 


CoiiDBil,of  (14JI-49).  17-18,  1J7. 

NichoUi  of,  itt   Friend  of   God  la 
the   Oberland. 
Basil  ItL  Grand-Duke  of  Muscovy,  SU- 
Basal,   Maiteo  de',  founder  of  the  C^» 

Baudouin,    Francois,    French  jorist.    sm. 
Bavirifc    Albert    V,    Duke    of!    soB. 

Eroett    of,    Atchbiibop    of   Cologa^ 

Muimiliao  I,  Duke  of,  jog. 
William   IV.  Duke  of,   508. 
William  V,  Duke  of,  JoS- 
Bayaiid   I,    Turkish    Suhan,    37, 

.    Regent    of    FniM^ 


^aueuX^l    , 

BecfadrlQ,  Antosi 

Bedford,  Duke  0 
nuliury  co. 
36. 
Beghards.  religig 
Beiuines.  religiou 
Be  [grade,  its  capt 


.  Neapolitan  bun 
Etjglisb    regen' 


Papacy  tee  Paiwcy. 
Aiorean  Jalanda,  diacoveiy  of,  lyg,  iSo, 

Bacoo.    Franda,    130-31, 

BMlen.   ecclevaatkal'dlaputatMO  al,  '*7l. 

_    ,Hoiiac  of,  15- 

Btif,  Jean  AMotea  d«.  Frcocb  pott.  SW> 


Bembo,    Fietro,    Cardinal    1 

314.    37S. 
Benedict   XI    (Niccolo   Boccasini),   Pope. 

XH'Oanse*  FoondcT),  Pope,  11. 
XIII     metro     FraaccKO  ^t^). 
Pope.  I  J. 
BemtHctuM   Deut.    papal   bull   canfiratag 
the  procecdingi  of  the  Council  oI 
Trent,    44» 
BemriSti  of  Oiriift  Death,  On  It*,  nj. 

B^ranlL  Kieholaa,  French  honunin,  ao6. 
Berg,  Heinrich  too,  tee  Saea. 
Bcrgerac,  P«ce  of  <iS77).,4«tf-. 
Bcrpwa     (Benca-op-Zoom),     Jan     van 

Glimea.   Barqiu*  of.  47P. 
Berlaymuut,    Chaitea,    Coiint    of,     ronl 

coancQor  in  the  Netfaerlanda,  47^, 

the   CoafcdEratioD.   ate;   Ita  diar< 
—     —     '-    -n  ta   I'      * 


if   CUnaiuc. 


6l3 


•S:  Ui  attttnde  toward*  idne^ 
1*7;  bii  OMdiBcMioB  of  A*  doc- 
trine of  Implicit  faith,    147;  ■•  a 

lirqulB,  Loidi  dc.  Frmcb  hniaaiiiit  and 
rellgiovi  niormcr,  >B4,  aW,  417. 

BaMailn,  CanUmal,  90-gi. 

Biia,  Tbeodore  it  (Bcia),  Calvliilat 
laadci,    105,    364,   41  d. 

Bible,  finl  pnated  Greek  text  of  die 
New  TeMBmCBt,  uSi  the  firat 
Folnlot,  loSi  erron  (n  the  Vol- 
--  Vmicd,  ais-i6,  4JJ.  joji 
■mni  >  work   In   rcriMoi,   ua; 


Bodetuleln,  Andrei 


'&!. 


!   la,    FreiKb   pnbll 

BSbeb^'^Haoi    (the    Piper    of    NUdat- 
hamen),  147-48. 


Bolofiia,  Knloni  of  the  CooncU  of  Trail 

Gioianni  de,  Italian  initptor,  511. 

BoImc,    Jfrome,    31x1-0 1. 

BonaTentiira.  General  o(  the  Frandacau, 

16;. 
Boniface      VIII      (Benedetto      Gaetano), 

Pope,  hi)  diaracter  and  policy,  9; 

hi*  career,  9-1 1,  35. 
IX   (fieio  Tomacelfiy,  Pop*,  is- 


Bordeaux,  UniTcnitT  of,  534. 
Boraia,  Ceure,   196. 

^rancueo  de,   third   Geocral  of  lk« 
Jeaiiit^44»-5o. 

LDcreda,     196. 
Borio  San  DonDino,  Gerard  of,  repnted 


CoMtable     of 

.._„ r, OB  to    Fianci* 

I,  tStl  bii  captnie  of  Rome,  ^ 
Bovrdeillea    (BianiAme),   Flctre   if- 


iX. 


t  I^nc•■' 


Lefivre'i  worit  aa  an  editor  and 

ktiona  of,  3391  la  naceptiblU^  of 
TSiion*      Intttprctatiom,       —     ' 
351-54  i    «>>•    reliancr       ' 
lantiim  opon,  433. 

Biblical  Rrforam,  id^i. 

BtcDoca,  battle  of,  ajS. 

Bienne.    >70i    arj. 

Maah  gMtb,  n,  43-44,  J4J. 

Bl^k  PriiKa,  ag,   30. 

Bloii,  nieetlBB  of  tlie  State^General  at 

BobadiU^^' ^tSt    Jemlt     Uther,    418, 

Boccaccio.  Gtoraiml  dl  Certaldo.  hii  writ- 
inct,  l>-Sj;  ai  a  Latin  reiiTalin, 
8«,  S7i  a*  a  Greek  teri^^iit,  8«; 

Bocfc,    Jerome,    botaslit. 


hoyttonr.  jMn  dr.  French  iuH«,   SM- 
Briminte    (Donilo   d'    Augnolo),    fuliai 

BrindeDbuTB,  Albert  of,  Grand-Misler  ol 
the   Teuionic    Order,   jio-ii:    finl 
Duke  of  Pruuia.  jii. 
Touhim  II.  Elector  of.  i6i,  i<s6. 
John  George.  ELeelor  of,   506. 

""  uilome,    IK    Bgurdtillr*. 

:da.    Conference   at,   481;    iu  cipturc 

486. 
■detode,   Htnry,    Viacount  of.   4?»- 


tijpi!'.  Peace  of  <i3«o),  19. 

,'clnne't, 'cu'lUume,  p'wch^bLihnp  jnd 
refonner,   ao6,  1S4,   aSs-BS. 

Bridget,  St.  (of  SwedcD),  166. 

Brill,  It*  adiure  by  "^  the  btnar*  of 
tbe  Ka,"   481. 

Brittany,  Anne  of,  wife  of  Cbarlea  VIII 
of    France,    19J.       _ 

Brothera  of  Charity,  m  Charity,  Brolb- 

Brouct,  Paichaae,  Jeanit  faOer,  41B. 
Brucdoli,  Antoiuo,   Italian  tranuator  of 

the   Bible,   316-17- 
BronelleacU,     FJlppo,     Italian     architect, 

Bmnl,    Leonardo,    Italian    humanist,    9J. 
Bruno,     Giordano,     Italian     pbilowphcr, 

BruMcta,  Union  of  (1577),  481. 

Bucer,     Martin      awociatcd    wiih    Cai*b 

at   Siraaburi,   sgn   on  the   rcindla 

of    the    Froteatatit    Rerotutlon    to 

moral*.     3^6. 
Bnchaoan,   Geo^,   Scotch   pnUiciit  and 

hiitorian,  <]&,  530. 
SBcUfM  von   dmiduK   Tlucloti;    16B- 

Bud£,  Gui11*ume,  French  Bcholar,  J0S-fl4. 
Buenoi   Aire*.    Tice-ronliy    of.   4ti. 
fiucenhaaen,  Johann,  German  FroleatanI 

retonoer.    jot. 
Bullant,   Jean,   French  architect,    sso- 
BuUinEcr,   Henry,  Zwinflian  leader,  175. 
Bandaehuh,    jal-ji- 
BurghcrL  ,tt  CiSea. 

Bnriundian  Party  In  Prance,  31-31,  ij. 
Bargundy,    Docby    of,    15,    rS^-^o,   4ia, 

ChaTlei  the  Bold,  Duke  of,  ai,  I8«, 

lea*,  Dnke  of,  475. 


Tlt4  EvtrUutinf  Goiptl.    tiL 
Borromeo,  Cardinal  Carlo,  at  tbe  CooDcil 
of  Trent,  4»-4o:  hla  part  in  Ibe 
election   of   Piui  V,  444-45;  aa   a 
reformer,    446-47. 


IcellL     Ala 

Bowbon,    AatoiBa    te    titular    King    of 
Na*arra.    «>«.   4S>>    4t»-»».    «'. 


Cabral,  Pedro  Alvam,  Portoanea^  M 
Ca^  aaral  battle  of,  473. 


6i4 


INDEX 


Cuetan,    Cardinal,    aao* 

Calabria.  Charlea  of»  Neapolitan  prince. 
38. 

Calais,  ita  capture  bv  the  English,  49. 

Calendar,   reform   of   the,   447-48. 

Caliari  Cor  Cagliari),  stt  Veronese. 

Calicut,    180. 

California,    ^61. 

Calixtus  III  (Alfonso  Borgia),  Pope, 
io<,   155. 

Calmar,   Union  of,  307. 

Calvin,  John,  his  flight  from  Paris,  a86; 
his  arrival  at  Q^eva,  289,  ^i, 
292;  his  training,  289^-90;  his  i»- 
siitutet  of  lAtf  Lhristian  Religion. 
290-91;  his  visit  to  Ren6e  ox 
Ferrara,  291,  322-23;  his  first  stay 
at  Geneva,  292-94;  his  banishment 
from  Geneva,  294;  his  part  in  the 
religious  colloauies,  295;  his  recall 
to  Geneva,  290;  his  second  stay  at 
Geneva,  296-302,  368;  his  church 
polity,  208;  his  pivotal  dogma, 
2^8-300;  his  position  in  Geneva  in 
his  last  years,  305:  estimate  of  his 
supervision  of  conauct|  305-06;  his 
intolerance,  363-64;  nis  rejection*' 
of  reason  as  a  religious  guide,  367; 
his  belief  in  diabolical  possession, 
410;  his  doctrine  of  non-resistance 
^  Tto    the    civil    authorities,    $35, 

Ollrinism,  its  faith  and  discipline,  290- 
91,  292-94,  298-300,  305-06;  in 
France,  302-05,  489,  495^-500;  its 
state  churches,  344-45,  345;  in 
the  Germanic  Empire,  506:  its  re- 
sults to  letters  and  to  the  arts, 
522-23. 

Camden,  Wuliam,  English  historian,  539. 

Camoens,    Luis   vaz    oe.    1^44. 

Campanella,  Thomas,  Italian  philosopher, 
528. 

Campanus,   Anti-Trinitarian.   351. 

Campell,  Ulrich,  Swiss  religious  leader, 
279. 

Campion,  Edmund,  English  Jesuit  mis- 
sionary,   450. 

Canaries,  discovery  of,   170. 

Canisius,  Peter,  Jesuit  leader  in  Ger- 
many, 442,   508. 

Cannon,    invention   of,    138. 

Cano,    Melchor,    Spanish    theologian,    339. 

Capito,    Wolfgang,    Strasburg    Protestant, 

_     .     295,    344. 

Capistrano,    John   of,   religious   revivalist, 

^  »54- 

Cappel,    battle    of,    275. 

Capell,    first    Peace    of     (1529),    273-74; 

second   Peace   of    (1531),   275. 
Capuchins,  monastic  order,  319--20. 
Caracci,   Agostino,   Italian  painter,   552. 
Annibale,    Italian    painter,    552. 
Lodovico,   Italian  painter,   «a. 
CaraflFa,   Cardinal,   see  Paul   Iv. 
Caravaggio,  Michel  Angelo,  Italian  paint- 
-,  er,    553. 

Cardano,  Girolamo,  Italian  mathematician 

and   philosopher,    130,    525-26. 
Cardinals,  College  of,   5. 
Carlos,   Don,  son  of  Philip  II  of  Spain, 

470. 
fc^esrlstadt   (Andrew  Bodcnstein),  religious 

and   social   radical,   229,   234,   272^ 
_  363. 

Carmagnola  (Francesco  Bussone),  Italian 

condettiere,  42. 
Carnesecci,    Pietro,    Italian   martyr,    328- 

Carpini,  John  de  Piano,  Asiatic  explorer. 


Carrara,  Jacopo  da,  Italian  despot,  X03. 
Francesco   da,   Italian   despot,   10^ 

Carranza,  Bartolom^  de^  Spanish  code* 
siastic,    339r-40. 

iCasaubon,  iMac,  French  philologian,  532. 

Casimir,  liiargTaTe  of  Brandcnmirg,  238. 

Castellio,  Sebastian,  apostle  of  roigiotts 
tolerance,  ^oa,  360-62,  364. 

Castelvetro,  Looovioo,  Italian  heretic, 
^30-31. 

Cattiglione,  Baldaasarc,  Italian  courtier 
and  writer,  378-^9. 

Castile,  its  incorporation  into  Spain,  47- 
48:  its  lawless  character,  191;  re- 
volt in,  258;  its  independence  of 
the  Papacy,  432;  its  geography, 
A$7t  459;  »ts  institutions,  457-59; 
its  argicultural  and  industrial  con- 
ditions, 459-60;  the  character  of 
its  peopl^   a6o. 

Catalina^  Queen  of  Portugal,  340. 

Cateau-(^ambresia,  Peace  of    (1559),  469. 

Catechism,  the  Lutheran,  261;  the  Cal- 
rinist,  293;  the  Racovian,  352;  the 
Catholic,  442;  the  Heidelberg,  506. 

Cathari,  religious  sect^  65. 

Catherine  of  Siena,  St.,  see  Siena,  St. 
Catherine  of. 

Catholic,  (Thurch,  see  Church. 

Catholicism,  Militant,  its  beginnings, 
4^1-32;  its  instruments,  443;  itt 
triumphs,  444-55*  Sos.  508-10;  cir- 
ctunstances  that  tavor«d  it,  4m- 
55>  4S6»  411-12;  its  results  to  let- 
ters and  to  the  arts,  523-24,  553- 

54* 

Cavalcanti,    Guido,   Italian    writer,   77. 

Caxton,    William,    English    printer,    140. 

Cazalla,  Augustin,  Spanish  L^itheran,  338. 
Pedro,  Spanish  Lutheran,  338. 

Celibacy  of  the  clergy,  decision  of  the 
Council  of  Trent  regarding,  441. 

Cellini,  Benvenuto,  lulian  sculptor  and 
memoir- writer,    540-41. 

Celso,  Mino,  advocate  of  religioua  toler- 
ance,  362. 

Celtes,  Conrad,  German  humanist,  210, 
271. 

Cerdagne,   456. 

Cervantes  (Saavedra),  Miguel  de,  459, 
524,    548. 

Cervini,    Marcello,  see  Marcellus   II. 

Ceuta,  occupation  of  by  the  Portuguese, 
179. 

Chalcondyles,  Demetrius,  Greek  scholar, 
91. 

Chalice,  debate  in  the  Council  of  Trent 
over   the   question   of   the^   439. 

Charity,  Brothers  of,  monastic  order, 
319. 

Charles  IV  (of  Luxemburg),  Emperor, 
22,  243. 
V  (of  Hapsburg),  Emperor,  ((Tharlcs 
I,  King  of  Spain),  as  Arch-Duke 
of  Austria  and  King  of  Spain,  198; 
his  character  and  his  hopes,  198- 
99»  258;  his  attitude  towards 
Luther  at  the  Diet  of  Worms,  232- 
33;  why  he  could  not  enforce 
the  Edict  of  Worms,  258-59;  his 
conflicts  with  other  powers,  259; 
his  attempts  to  solve  the  religious 
and  political  problems  in  Germany, 
259-60,  262-64,  264-68;  his  mili- 
tary activity  in  Italy  and  Africa, 
264;  his  final  struggle  with  Fran- 
cis, I,  265-66,,  432;  his  desire  for 
religious  retmion,  295;  his  neglect 
of    the    imperial    interests    in    the 


INDEX 


6iS 


Slavonic  proyinces  of  the  Baltic, 
31  x;  hia  belief  in  aatrology,  406. 
407-08;  his  desire  for  a  general 
council  of  the  Church.  43a;  hia 
part  in  Uie  Council  of  Trent,  435, 
436;  hia  flight  from  Innsbruck, 
436;  aa  King  of  Spain,  457;  hia 
poaition  ana  prestiEe,  ^6a;  hia 
training  of  Phuip  II,  466-67;  his 
last  year^  467-68:  ma  unification 
of  tne  Netherlands,  475;  his  re- 
linquishment of  the  government  of 
the  Netherlands,  477;  summary  of 
hia  career.  502. 

rv.  King  of  France,  a8. 

V,  King  of  France,  hia  part  in  tfie 
Himdred  Years'  War,  29-30. 

VIL  King  of  France,  hia  part  in  the 
Hundred   Years'   War,  31-36. 

VIII,   King  of    France,   4a,    193-94, 

398. 
I^  King^  of  France,  400-95. 
I  (of  Anjou).  King  of  Hungary,  5x1. 

I  (of  Anjou),  King  of  Naplea  and 
Sicily,  38. 

II  (of  Anjou),  King  of  Naples,  38. 

III  (of  Durazzo),  King  of  Naplea, 
42,   46. 

Chaucer,  (ieoffrey.  aa  a  writer^  83-8^; 
as  a  critic  of  ecdesiaatical  immoral- 
ity, I  SI* 

Chaves,  Fray  Diego  de,  confessor  of 
Philip  II,  472. 

Chemistry,   development   of   research   in, 

I33-34* 

Chile,  46i-6i,  Chinchon,  0>unt  of,  mem- 
ber ox  the  Spaniah  Night  Junta, 
473- 

Christendom,  at  the  dawn  of  the  Renaia- 
sance^    x-;9. 

Christian  li.  King  of  Denmark,  239,  307. 
^III,   King  ot   Denmark,  308. 

Christianity,  socialistic  character  of  med- 
ieval and   early,  241. 

Chrysoloras,  Manuel,  Greek  humanist,  90. 

Church,  the  Catholic  or  Latin,  ita  faith 
and  ^  worship.  5-6.  203;  its  cor- 
ruption, 12-13,  428-20;  differences 
between  it  and  the  Greek  Church, 
17;  its  teachings  in  the  Middle 
Agea,  60,  6s;  its  influence  upon 
art,  63,  III,  116;  its  influence 
upon  science,  13^;  critics  of,  150- 
fi;  its  many-sided  activity,  190; 
Its  dependence  upon  the  State  m 
Spain,  ^32;  its  changed  attitude  to- 
wards letters  and  the  arts,  393- 
94;  ita  militant  spirit,  42J},  431- 
32,  444-55;  episcopal  party  111,439: 
Ita  reformation,  446. 

Ciceronianism,  ita  first  apostle,  86;  ita 
leading  exponent,  393;  caricatured 
and  refuted,  521-22. 

Cimabue,  Giovanni,  Italian  painter,  i  x6- 
X7» 

Citiea,  aa  centera  of  commerce  and  civi- 
lization, 8;  character  of  their  life 
in  the  later  Middle  Ages,  6aHSi; 
aa  cradles  of  individuality  and  civ- 
ilization in  Italy,  68-69;  as  cen- 
ters of  humanism  and  heresy,  212- 
14;  discontent  of  their  population 
in  Germany  at  the  eve  of  the  re- 
volt from  Rome,  235-36;  influ- 
ence of  their  culture  upon  the 
Protestant  Revolution,  237-38; 
causes  of  their  social  discontent, 
245-47;  social  revolutiona  in  the, 
'49-50;  their  part  in  the  Great 
Peasanta*  War,  a55-56. 


Oty  Leaguea,  j6. 

Clario,   Isidoro,   322. 

Claasical  Letters,  tte  Greek  Language  and 
Literature,  and  also  Latin  Lan- 
guage and  Literature. 

Oemen^  Jacques,  assassin  of  Henry  III 
of   France,  498. 

V  (Bertrand  de  C^oth),  Pope,  ii. 

VI  (Pierre  Roger),  Pope,  11. 

VII  (Giulio  de'  Medici).  Pope,  14- 
I5>    I  St   a59»    264,    286,    319,   320^ 

Vm'dppolito  Aldobrandini),  Pope, 
504. 

Clergy,  the  Regular,  their  organization 
and  character,  si  their  efforta  to 
effect  moral  reform  before  the 
Protestant  Revolution,  x^2,  153-55. 
the  Secular,  their  organization,  5; 
their  efforta  to  effect  moral  re- 
form before  the  Protestant  Rero- 
lutioMi^   152-53. 

Clericit  laicos,  papal  bull,  9. 

Qeves,  William,  Duke  of,  hia  practfee  of 
religioua    tolerance,    364. 

Clocka,  improvementa  in  the  making  of^ 
X4X. 

Codure,  John,   Jesuit   father,   418. 

Coffnac^  League  of  (X526),  259. 

Colet,  John,  Engliah  bumaniat,  204. 

Coligny,    Gaspard,    Admiral    of    Francey 

r^   t*        ^,°^»«304.,   489.    491-92,    493.        .        , 

CoUeoni,    Bartolommeo,    Italian   condoUi^ 

#r#,  42. 
Cologne,  Univeraity  of,  2x0,  428,  449. 
Colombo,    Michel,    French    sculptor,   392. 
Coloima,    Vittoria,    Italian    princeaa   and 

humanist,  325,  326. 
Columbus,    Christopher,    38,   64,    x8i-8at 

461. 
Comets,  aa  a  source  of  terror,  407-08. 
Commander,  John,  Swiss  religioua  leader, 

279. 
Common   Life,   Brothera  and   Siatera  of 

the,  religious  aasociation,   170. 
Como,  hereay  at,  325. 
Compass,  invention  of  the,  137,  176. 


, _.     Concordat 

507-08. 
Cond6,  Louia,  Prince  of,  304*  490,  491, 

493* 
Condattteri.  in  Italy,  41-42. 
"  Conf uution,"    the    Catholic    anawer   to 

the    Augsburs    Confeaaiofi    of    tha 

Lutherans,  263. 
Congo  River,  discovery  of  the  mouth  of, 

180. 
Congregation  of  the  Index,  see  Index. 
Conrad,  Poor,  2^0-51. 
Conscience,    revival    of,    144-74;    deriva- 
tion   and    meaning    of    the    word, 

144- 
Consilium   de    emendanda    Ecclesia,    321. 
Constance,  imperial  city,  273. 

Council  of   (1414-18),   15-16,   17,  a4, 

156-57. 
Constantine,   Donstion   of,   see  Valla. 
Conatantinople,  ita  capture  by  the  Turks, 

Contanni,    Cardinal    Gasparo    265,    320, 
434, 

Coomhert,  Direk  V.,  adrocate  of  rellgloaa 

tolerance,  362-63. 
Cop,  Nicholas,  rector  of  the  University 

of  ParisL  286.  290. 
Copernicus,    Nichoiaa,    astronomer,    xjt- 

3^ 


B!SffiJg*l{4«y    (Tlilriwuhijill. 
viMM  In  ^^  At  wCm  omm- 

CnMadtt.  'ifair  twdSTto  sMHntka,  641 

Otu.  &  IMS  di  li.  S«m*  aoMl^ 
CojMi  %cqan  d*^  Macber  of  Tiiimii  h«, 
Oilnftiy  GcMie  of,  Otrmiu  Ldthoan 

Inqdritloa  at  IMbaa.  m^o. 
CbAum,  aUo  SaeoBdo,   ItdlM  b««fk. 


"^  s*^i&Sr^^' 


TMUlti  of,. 181:  political  K 
Dmn*  Camidy     Thf,   79-Bo. 


Dominic,  St,  «s,  ij> 

Dominicaiu.  moiume  Order,  rimmf  of 
It*  bistory,  1531  (ctinlr  of  te 
Dnabcra  agiiiui  Ihi  humaiiint  ia 
G«nnui^,  716^17;  iiH  iulooiy  «f 
the  Jauin  in  Snia,  4171  m 
■upport  of  AristotdiininD,  sjis. 

DDtutella  (Donato  di  Bctta  B*tdi>. 
lulian   MUlplor,    6},    114-1].   jt^ 


OnlMHr,    M   I 

Cam,    Cardinal    Klcbolu    el,    ija.    i)t. 


Dante,  hli  dream  of  a  aottcd  Ilal&  au 
rerlval  of  Indindualltr  In  ES 
literary  work,  61;  hii  tenlmony  u 
to  ttie  influence  of  the  Skulaa 
ciiiliiatioi)  upon  Italian  llterMnre, 
77;  hia  poini  of  Ticw,  77-78;  bia 
vniinga,  7B-B0;  ai  a  critic  o( 
eccleiiutlcal    Immorali^,    iso-si. 

DitamTBK,    Tkt,   Bi-Sj. 

DtfKUoT  Pacii,  io~ji,  13. 

Dclfabaven,  it*  eaplnrt  by  the  aea-bcf- 
gan.    481. 

Delia    Querela,    Jacopo,    Italian    acolpiur, 

Delia   Robbft,   Aiidrca.   Italian   aeulptor, 

Luca,"  lUlian    iculptor,    iij. 
Delia    Scala,    Caucrande,    Italian    deapot, 

Masima.    luilan    deapot,    41. 
Denck,    Hani,    Anabaptiit   leader,    14S. 
Deoi)  the  Laborer,  Kins  of  Fortnfil,  47. 
Denmark,      relation      to      Norway      and 
Sweden,    7,    107;    tti    reroll   from 


jfC™.«.to. 


ite  Valla. 


DramaliM.    IQi.   J7e-Ba.   S4S-4^ 
Drlngentiersi  Lndwig.  German  *■——"'*. 


I  ^ll  mi  l■^  64-     Da 


•i«-ir. . 


pCriert,    Jean     BonaTenttge,     French 

humaDbl,    aa<. 

■      ■       ^  -he. „  _ 

individually    ' 


otl,    1... 

Devota,  Age  of  the,  In  Italy,  aa  a  period 
'-'^b    individually    waa    foe- 


Dupleaaia-Homay,  m*  Horaay. 

DflTcr,  AutreiBit,  aa  •  hananla^  ■14;  aa 

an  aitiat,   ]9>-93. 
Dutch   RepsbUc,  Ila  bwnnlnga,   41]:  ili 

provincea,  4S7;   na  character,  4S7. 

Eck,  John,   Catholic  theolo^an,   ajg-}a> 

Eckhan,    Meincr,    Gmnm    myilic,    167. 
Edward  I.   King  of   England.  27- 

II.  King   oT   Enelaod.   aS. 

III,  King  of  England.  hii_p.n  in 
the  beglpnlaB  of  tbe  Hondred 
Yesrs'  War,  i8-3D;  bii  part  ni 
Ihc  rise  of  Enjlisfi  natianality,  jt 

Egidio,  Doctor,  Spanish  Lutheran,  jj7. 
Egmanc,    Lamoral,    Count   of,    477,    478, 


t'h.  Queen 'of  England.  4SS. 
ValSs.  third  wiS  of  Philip  H  of 

laielocli,    quoted.  4Gi>. 

,    Louia,    founder   of    the    famoM 

iress   at  I.ejd»ii.   533. 

,  the  Holy  RoToan,  {;>  enteot  aad 

if  cDiomerce  aod  cutture,  S;  •!•» 


INDEX 


617 


ton,  «a,  a5-j6;  diiiatcgrmtiiic 
lofcesy  44-^7;  Uck  of  national  feel- 
mf  in.  $Xi  chaimctcr  of  the  Re- 
naiMance  in.  xo6;  its  decline,  soo- 
the Greek  (tne  Later  Roman  Em- 
I>ire;  the  Bvxantine  Empire)^  its 
character  and  its  services  to  ctrili- 
sation,  6:  its  abolition  and  restora- 
tion in  the  thirteenth  century,  37. 
Latin,  of  Gxistantinople,  97. 

England,  rise  of  nationality  m,  7,  55- 
^6;  character  of  the  Renaissance 
in,  106;  Calvinism  in,  430;  its  re- 
volt from  Rome,  430;  at  war  with 
Spain,  473. 

Knihias,  Francisco  de,  Spanish  Lutheran, 

,  337.  369-^       .  ^ 

Jamie  de,  Spanish  martyr,  32^,  337. 

Episcooius,  Nicolaus,  printer  and  pub- 
lisher,  521. 

Erasmus,  his  opinion  of  Luther  and  the 
Lutherans,  203,  230,  367;  his  in- 
fluence in  England,  aos;  his  in- 
fluence in  France,  207-08;  hia 
influence  in  Spain,  209,  3^5-36; 
his  writings  and  his  attitude  to- 
ward the  problems  of  his  time, 
ai8-ai;  as  a  humanist  at  Basel, 
276;  his  influence  in  Portugal, 
341;  why  he  did  not  join  the 
Protestanu,  355;  as  a  promoter  of 
free  thought,  355-56:  as  an  up- 
holder of  religious  tolerance,  359; 
his  belief  in  astrology,  406;  as  an 
opponent  of  the  Ciceronians,  5S2; 
his  influence  in  the  European  re- 
public of  letters,  522;  his  views  on 
jgovemment,    «^<. 

Erasmitas,  Spanish  toljowers  of  Erasmus, 
335-46. 

Erfurt,   University  of,  210,  2x^-15,  223. 

Ericson,  Leif.  reputed  voyage  ot,  iSo. 

Ernest,    Archduke    of    Austria,    in    the 
Netherlands,  486. 
Duke  of  Luneburg,  238. 

£fte.  House  of,  X03,  ayi,  3JJ-23. 

Esthonia,  312. 

Estienne,    Charles,    French    printer-pub- 
lisher, C33. 
Henri    Cthe    first),    French    printer- 
publisher,  533. 
Henri   (the  second),  Frendi  printer- 
publisher.  533. 
Robert,      French      printer-publisher, 

£toile,  Pierre  de  1',  French  legal  scholar, 

280. 
Eugene  IV  (Gabriel  0>ndulmieri),  Pope, 

17.   104,   155.   S77'        „       . 
Europe,  at  the  dawn  of  the  Renaissance, 

1-9. 
Eusfachio,  Bartolomeo,  Italian  anatomist 

and  physician,  1^6. 
Exsurgg   Doming,   papal   bull,   230. 
Eyck,  Hubert  van,  Flemish  painter,  390. 

Jan  van,    Flemish  painter.  390. 
Eszelino  da  Romano,  Italian  despot,  40- 

Faber,  Peter,  Jesuit  father,  418. 
Fabricus   (Oronimo  Fabrizio),   Hierony- 

mus,   Italian  anatomist,    136. 
Faith,   implicit,    144-49. 
Fallopio,     (xatM-iello,     Italian     anatomist. 


Felix    V    (Amadeus,    Duke    of    Savoy), 

Pope,  18. 
Feltre,    vittorino    da,    Italian    humanist, 

Feodor  (Iheodore),  Tsar  of  Russia,  518^ 

19- 
Ferdinand  I  (of  Hapsburg),  Emperor, 
Kin^  of  Huni^ary  and  Bohemia, 
acquires  possession  of  the  Austrian 
lands  and  claims,  323;  his  attitude 
towards  the  Council  of  Regency, 
237;  his  demand  for  the  enforce- 
ment of  the  Edict  of  Worms,  260; 
his  possession  of  Wurttemberi^ 
265:  his  alliance  with  the  Swiss 
Catholic  cantons,  27^;  his  special 
dislike  of  Zwinglianism,  274;  his 
belief  in  astrology,  406;  his  sup- 
port and  use  of  the  Jesuits,  427, 
«o8;  his  compensations  for  the 
division  of  the  Empire,  467-68; 
summary  of  his  career,  502. 

II  (of  Hapsburg),  Emperor,  aa 
Archduke  of  Styria,  509;  as  Arch- 
duke of  Austria,   512. 

L  King  of  Aragon,  47-48. 

V  (the  Catholic:  II  of  Aragon;  V 
ot    Castile),    King   of    Spain,    48, 

191,  197.  33a.  333. 

Ferrara,  as  a  center  of  culture,  X03,  371; 
as  a  center  of  heresy,  322-23. 
Council    of,    17. 
Ercole  II,   Diike  of,   322-23. 
Ren^,   Duchess  of,   20 x,   322-23. 

Ferrer.     Bonifacio,     translator     of     the 
Bible  into  Catalan,  339. 
Vincent,   Dominican   retonner,   154. 

Ficino,    Marsillio^    Italian    humanist,    97; 

FSlelfo,  Francesco,  Italian  humanist,  94. 

Finland,  establishment  of  Ltitheranism 
in,  30s^-io. 

Fladanists.   religious  group,   507. 

Flack,  Matthias  (Flacius  lUyricus), 
Lutheran   theologian.   s^4-55»   538. 

Flaminio,  Marc  Antonio,  Italian  hereuc, 
327. 

Fleix,  Peace  of  (1580),  496. 

Flora,  Joachim  of,  ItalisA  mystic,  164^ 
65. 

Florence,  its  early  history^  39;  continua- 
tion of  its  history,  45-46;  revival 
of  individuality  in,  02:  prevalence 
of  its  dialect  in  the  formation  of 
the  Italian  lan|piage|  77;  its  social 
spirit,  pi-92;  Its  citiaens  painted 
by  Ghirlandajo,  122;  reistablish- 
ment  of  the  repubUc,  194-95. 

Florida,  461. 

Flushing,  its  capture  by  the  tea-beggars, 
481. 

Foix,     (jermaine    of,     second     wife    of 
Ferdinand  I  of  Spain,    196. 

Folengo,  Giovanni  Battista,  Italian  here- 
tic, 327. 

Fontainebleau,  Edict  of   (ijS4o),  287. 

Foucquet,  Jean,   French  painter,  302. 

France,     national     consoudation   In,     7, 


189-90;  revival  of  nationality  io. 
55;  why  if  was  not  the  cradle  01 
the   Renaissance,    72-73;  character 


Farel,  Guillaumc.  French  Protestant  re- 
former. 284,  28s,  288,  292,  294, 
295. 

Frachet,  Claude,  French  historian,  SJO^ 


of  the  Renaissance  in,  xo6;  its 
Gothic  architecture,  X09-X0;  na- 
tional spirit  of  the  Church  in,  17- 
18,  427;  religious  wars  in,  488- 
500;   its   Renaissance  architecture^ 

Francis  I(o'f  Valois),  King  of  France, 
his  accession  and  political  policy* 
197-98;    his    candidature    for    wa 


6i8 


INDEX 


imperial  title*  io8;  hit  rivalry  with 
Charles  V,  250-59*  ^64.  a6s-66; 
his  chanted  attitude  toward  the 
French  heretica,  386;  hia  peraecu- 
tion  of  heresy,  386-87. 

II,  Kin^  of  France,  488,  490. 

of  Assisi,  St.,  as  a  reformer,  65;  his 
influence  upon  Italian  literature, 
77;  his  new  ideal  and  hia  Order, 

IS3-S4>  341  • 
Franciscans,  monastic  order,  zi,  13,  153- 

54»  3x9* 
the  Conventual,  their  origin,  165. 
the  Spiritual,  their  quarrel  with 
the  Papacy,  11,  13;  their  reform, 
153;  their  adoption  of  Thg  Ever- 
iasHng  Gospel,  164-65;  their 
origin,    165. 

FraticelU,  monastic  order,   x6<-66. 

Franck,  Sebastian,  German  free-thinker 
and  historian,  his  opinion  of  Hans 
Dcnck,  348;  as  a  free-thinker  and 
historian,  357;  as  an  advocate  of 
religious    tolerance^     35.9HS0. 

Frankfort-on-the-Oder.  University  of,  211. 

Frankfort*on*the-Main,   religious   colloquy 

Frederick    II     (of    Hohenataufen),    Em- 
peror,    evoker     of     a     premature 
Renaissance,  68,  95,  76,   xos,   148. 
Ill     (of    Hapsburg),    Emperor,    34, 

406. 
the    Fair  ^(of    Hapsburg),    claimant 

of   the   imperial   title,   30. 
I    (of   Schleswig-Holstein),   King  of 
Denmark,    339,   308. 
Freiburg,  Swiss  canton  of,  its  admission 
to  the  Confederation,  369;   its  aid 
to  Cienera.   388;   its  opposition  to 
religious  change  in  Geneva,  388. 
University   of,    311. 
Friend  of  God  in  Oberland,  168. 
Friu,    Joss,    a    leader    of    social    revolu- 
tion, 350. 
Froben,  ^  Jerome      (son     of     Johannes), 

Erinter   and    publisher,    531. 
annes,   scholar,   printer,   and   pub- 
lisher,  376,    521. 

Froracnt,  Antoine,  French  Protestant, 
288. 

Fuchs,    Lionel,    botanist,    134. 

Fuente,  Constantino  Ponce  de  la,  Span- 
ish   Lutheran,   337. 

Fuggers,  German  capitalistic  family, 
213,    345,    246. 

Funck,  John,  Lutheran  propagandist,  311. 

Clalilei,  Galileo,  Italian  physicist  and  as- 
tronomer,   132,    133,    141. 

Gall,  St.,  abbey  of,  370,   378. 
town   of,    270,    273,    277-7B. 
League  of,  269;  Protestantism  in  the 
territory    of,    277-78. 

Crallicius,  Philip,  Swiss  religious  leader, 
279. 

Gama,  Vasco  da,  Portuguese  explorer, 
180. 

Gansvoort  (formerly  known  as  John 
Wesscl),  Wessel,  Biblical  re- 
former,   160-61. 

GatUmelata,  Stefano  Giovanni,  Italian 
condottiere,  42;  Donatello's  statue 
of,   X14. 

Gaza,  TheodoroSj   Greek  teacher,  90. 

Gebbard,  Archbishop  of  Cologne,  508- 
op. 

Geertruidenburg,  its  capture  by  the 
Dutch,   a86. 

Geiamayr,  Michael,  335. 


(jemblonx.  battle  of,  483. 

Geneva,  its  early  htatonr.  387-88;  itt 
condition  before  Caivin'a  arrival, 
391-93;  ita  government,  396-98; 
its  rehgioua  intolerance,    350. 

Genoa,  ita  early  history,  39;  ita  stmg^ 
with  Venice.  ^;  unimportant  as 
a    center    of    literature    and   ar^ 

XOX-03. 

Gentile  (C^entOia),  Valentino,  Italian 
Anti-Trinitanan,   331,   3Si* 

Geometry,   see  Mathematica. 

(xerard,  Balthasar,  a^aiwin  of  William 
the  Silent,  484. 

Ciermany,  see  Empire,  Holy  Roman. 

Oerson,  Jean,  aa  a  conciliar  theorist  and 
worker,  156;  as  a  mystic,  163-64; 
his  reputed  authorship  of  The 
JmUation  of  Christy  173. 

(jesner,  Conrad  von,  SwuM«erman  bo^ 
anist,    zoologist,    and    philologian, 

Ghent,  Rkcification  of  (1576),  48a. 

GhibeUine  party,  40,  41. 

Ghiberti,  Lorenzo  di  Cino,  Italian  acn^ 

tor,  iz3»  lis*   x^i* 
Ghirlandajo,  Domenico,    Italian    painter, 

133. 

(jiani,  Lapo,  Italian  writer,  77. 

(xiberti,  uian  Matteo,  Cathotic  reformer, 
318. 

Giorgione  (Giorgio  Barbarelli,  or  Bar- 
barella),  Italian  nainter,  388. 

Giovanni  I,  Queen  of  Naples,  38,  43,  46. 
II,  Queen  of  Naples,  46. 

(Hotto  ((}iotto  di  Bondone),  Italian 
painter.    117-18. 

Glareanus  (Henry  Loriti),  Swiss  human- 
ist, 377. 

Glania.  Swiss  canton  of,  ita  a^Jtwi—irwi 
into  the  Confederation,  369;  Prot- 
estantism  in,  377;  its  part  in  the 
government   ox   St.    Gall,   378. 

Groa.  181. 

Goch  (Pupper),  John  of.  Biblical  re- 
former,  160. 

Godunov,  Boris,  Tsar  of  Russia,  518-19. 

Goes,    DamiSo    dc,    Portuguese    humanist, 

341. 
Golden  Bull,   22,  35-36,   36. 
Goliardi,     as     revivers     of     individuality, 

66-67;    as    critics   of    the    Church, 

150. 
Gomez,  Ruy,  Prince  of  Eboli  and  friend 

of  Philip  II   of   Spain,  471-73- 
(^onzaga.    Family   of,   86,   103,    X30. 
Cardinal   Ercole   di,   438. 
Giulia,  326. 
Good  Hope,    Cape   of,   rounding  of  the^ 

180. 
Cost  el,  The  Everlasting,  164-66. 
Gotnein,  Eberhard,  quoted,   524. 
Gothic    architecture,    see    Architecture. 
Goujon,    Jean,    French    sculptor    and  ar* 

chitect,    550. 
Govea,  Andre  de,  teacher  of  Roman  law, 

534. 
Granada,  recapture  of  the  province  from 

the   Moors,    191;   secret  Treaty  of 

(1500),  196. 
Granveila,    Antoine    Perrenot,    Sietir   de. 

Cardinal,    Bishop    of    Arras,    473, 

477.   478. 
Nicholas   Perrenot,    Sicur  de^    472. 
Gratius  (Ortwin  de  Graes),  Ortuinus  and 


Letters  of  Obscure  Men,  317. 
Graubiinden,    Swiss    district    of,    rr 


rotet- 


tantism     in.     379. 
Grave,  capture  ot,  485. 


Gnbet,   Conrad,   Swin  rellEiosi  imdiul, 

Grcah  atBrcli,  In  extent,  4;  utiuct  of  IH 
lepuition  from  the  Latin  Church, 
41  in  orpauution,   jig. 

Greek  Linniige  *nd  LiccTatuie,  knosl- 
cdge  of  ii  in  the  MidSc  Age*. 
S4-8S;  it!  TeriTkl  at  the  tiine  of 
the  Reniluuce,  SS-ji;  iu  revival 

ture  in  the  modern  tmEua,  f»&-09* 
CrtgpTv  1   (the  Gceat),  Pope,  146. 

Ttl     (Plene     Roger     de     Beanfort), 
Pope.    11,    ij. 

XII  (Angelo     CoTiaro,     or     Orrer), 

XIII  iVsa    Boonconpaaoi),    Pope, 

GHtaliTo,    Uattco,    Ant^TriniUrian,    jsi. 
Greifiwald,   UniTcraity  of,  111. 
Groc^,   William,   Eagliih  humaniaL  101. 
Groniogen,    its   recaptuie    by   the    Dutch, 


Cnarino  da  Verona,  Italian  humanisi.  04. 

Guelf  paclr,  40. 

Guicciardioi.  Franceico,  Italian  biitoHan. 

ffovemntent    of    Florence,    194-9 Si 
at  a  hiatorian,  iifr-JJ. 
Cuiddiccioni    (i48a-is4i).    Cardinal    Gio- 
vanni,    Italian    poet    and    prelate, 

Cuinea,   (tiacovenr  of  the   eoait  of,    ii 
GuiniceUL   G\iido,  Italian  writer,  77. 
Goiac,     House     of     (of     LorTalna), 
France,  486-^0. 
Charles      ol,      aecoDd      Cardinal      of 

Vitltia    of,    aecond    Duke    of,    48S, 
'K=-    490,   4fl[  «». 

of,  third  Duke  01,  494,  491, 

a  of,  lecood  Cardinal  of,  after- 

warda  Cardinal  of   Lorraine,  497. 

Harr  of,   wife  of  Jamtl  V  of  fcot- 
laod  and   mother  of  Mary,  Queen 
of  Scota,  480. 
Gun,  Invention  and  uae  of  the,  ijB. 

berg,     Jobamiea,     German     printer 
""      '" "     'J9-40. 


Wtatj  B 
r*.'f.1 


SI'  inven 


191:  COnniros 
Haller,  Berthold.  S' 
Hanai  Leaoiie,  a6. 

'latg,  Bonae  of,  ita  rlae,  19- 

addiiional    tei 
ent  at  the  I 

a  of  ita  Seredltarr  iandi^ 

Harvey,  William,  Eoglidi  anatomiat,  116, 

Uawfcwood,  Sir  John,  Enfliah  eemiaM4rt 

la  Inly.  4*. 
Hesiua,    AlexudBr,    German    btuaanlat, 

Heidelbeis,  UnlvtrUly  of,  aio,  sii. 
-UenrlcM  Artida,"  S14- 


619 

Luneoihufg),    El 

nfhat  oTt- .,. 

II,  King  of    Enaland,   17. 

III,  King  of  Enaland,  aj. 

IV,  King  of   Eaflind.  31. 

V,  King  of   EniEind,  ji. 

VI,  King  of   EngUnd,   31-36. 

VIII.  King  of  England.  Hi  a  mem- 
ber of  the  Holy  League,  197;  hi* 
candidature  lor  the  imperial  litl^ 
198. 

II  (of  Valoib).  King  of  Fraoee.  hb 
marriage  to  Catherine  de*  Hedicl, 
i86;  hiB  perucution  of  heceay, 
aSy.  .JOJ-OSL  ^'*  ^™'^  3os;  hi* 
part  In  the  Council  of  Trent.  436; 
failure  of  efforta  to  check  the 
apread    of    bereay.    488;    character 


IV^  fef    Bourbon).   King  of    France, 

Kcviouily    Henry     ID,     King    of 
avarre,   49*,   493,  493,   496,  497. 

Cird^l  and  Kin*:  of  Portugal,  ^71. 
the     Navigator,     Forlugueae     princa 


Heta,    Eoban,    German   hnmaniat,   114. 
Beaae,  Houae  of.  as- 

Pbilip,  Landgrave  of.  138,  160,  iSt, 

Hilton,  Walter,'  En^h  nyittc,  169. 

Hochatettett,     Gcrmaii     capilaliatic     aaao> 

ciatioii,  146. 
Id  f nan,     Mekliiar,     Anabaptiat     leader, 

348. 
lofmeuter,     Sebotian,     Swlai     religioo* 


Holy   League,    .... 

Bolywood,  John   of,   m  Sacrobosco. 

Hoogitraten,  Jacob  van,  Dominican  frlw, 

,  Engllih  publiciat,  S37. 


rd.  Ei_ 

Hoorne,_Philm,   Count  of.  477,  480. 


Hooker,    Rich 
Hoorne,   Phili, 

Horde,   The  C ,   j.-,   ,.,. 

Hoapitallera,    Knighta,    399. 
Hotman,    Franfoia,    F^rench  pnUidat  anA 
_         juriit.  «oj,  1J4,  <]5-36. 
Hubmaier.   Balihaaar,    Anabaptiat   I 
---         -48. 

Cilvlnlim. 


■  w-*>, 


Huguenoti.  _._ 

HuTit,  ita  capture  by  the  Dutch,  4B6. 
Uamanism.  definition  of,  87-88;  mititae 
period  of    •''■  —  '^ '-  -  — 


tlon  to  bereay,  103,  aoi-ia;  char- 
acter of  Italian.  301 1  chaiacter  01 
Trani-Alplne,  10*;  effect*  of 
Trana- Alpine  upon  religion  aoii 
individuality  of  ita  devotees,  hj; 
EngUah  humaniam,  103-05,  aSi-- 
85;  French  humaniam,  105-08. 
301-03!  Spaniab  hiimaniau^  >oS- 
■ci  Ckiman  bnmaniim.  Jio-*i| 
European   humaniam,   510-56. 


6ao 


INDEX 


Hundred  Years'  War,  9Tr3^ 
Hungary,  a  Turanian  nation*  8;  hmaanit- 
tic  flocietiea  in,  jxo;  its  conquest  by 

the     Turks.     bs9»     389-99:     S»i- 

13. 
Calvinism  in,  430;   its  ecUfMe  aa  a 

Sute.  511-13. 
Hunyady,  John,   Hungarian   general,  37» 

511. 
Htts,     John,     Bohemian     rdigiooa     re* 

^  former,   157,   159-^*  a43. 
Hussites,   34,,  65,   343-44*   3«a-      , 
Hutten,    Ulrich    Yon,    as    a    student    at 

Erfurt,   3x4;   as  a  reformer,  215. 

317-18;  as  one  of  the  authors  ox 

The  Letters  of  Obscure  Men,  317: 

his  denunciation  of  the  new  capi^ 

talism,  351;  as  a  promoter  of  free 

thought,  356. 

Iceland,  Protestantism  in,  308. 

Idiaquez,  Don  Juan  de,  member  of  the 
Spanish  Night  Junta,  473* 

Ilanx,   Diet  of    (15^6).   379.         ^,      ^ 

Images,  use  of  in  religious  worship,  de- 
cision of  the  Council  of  Trent  re- 
garding, 440. 

Imitation  of  Ckrtst,  Ths.  170,  I7i-7S« 

in  cana  Domini,  papal  bull  excommuni- 
cating heretics,  44^43* 

Index,  Congregation  of  the,  4S3-54- 
tbe-  Papal,   of  forbidden  books,  443, 

{ndies,  the  West,  x8x,  183.  460-63. 
ndividuality.  definition  of,  59-60;  how 
it  had  been  lost,  60-6  x;  how  it 
came  back  through  taste.  63-64; 
how  it  came  back  throui^  curios- 
ity, 64-65;  how  it  came  back 
through  conscience,  65;  when  and 
where  it  came  back,  65-70;  the 
fundamental  factor  of  the  Renais- 
sance, 70-71;  influence  of  its  re- 
vival upon  religious  thought,  353- 
S3,  358. 

Indulgences,  theory  of,  ass;  sale  of  In 
Germany  at  the  time  of  Luther, 
226;  decision  of  the  Council  of 
Trent  regarding,  440. 

Ingolstadt,  University  of,  211,  437,  449, 
508. 

In  June  turn  nobis,  papal  bull  giving  com* 

51ete    sanction    to    the    Society    of 
esus,  419. 
Inquisition,      its      activity     against     the 
humanists    in    Germany,    216;    Cal« 
vin's    communication    with    regard- 
ing    Servetus,     301;     refused    ad- 
mittance   to    France,    304,    branch 
of    the    Perfected   at    Venice,    3-34; 
establishment     of     the     Pertectea, 
328;     the     Spanish,     333-34.  ,  33Sf 
336,  337-39.  339-40;  censorship  of 
the    press    by    the    Spanish,    334; 
the    Portuguese,    340-41;    the    Re- 
vived,  as   a  product   of   its  time, 
429;       the       Kevived      in      Italy, 
America,    Asia,    and   France,   453; 
in  the  Netherlands,  4^9. 
Innocent   III    (Lando   da   Sezaa),  Pope, 
147. 
IV    (Sinibaldo    Fiesco),    Pope,    147. 


Intarin,  tbe  Avgsbaqb  <6& 

Irenictts,  quoted,   ax> 

Isabdk,  dani^ter  of  Philip  II  of  Spih 
and  wife  of  Andidiike  Albeit  of 
Austria,  486i. 
Queen  of  Castile,  47-48,  191;  M 
•  patron  of  hnminiwn,  soe;  her 
independence  of  the  Papacy,  333; 
and   the   Spanish   Inquisition,  331. 

Italy,  a  congeries  of  amall  States,  8; 
its  cities,  8;  its  hiatofy  after  the 
Hohenstanfen,  38-40:  its  hisiocy 
during  the  absence  ot  the  Papacy, 
40-44;  ita  hiatory  during  the 
period  of  the  Schaam  and  tn  tbe 
time  of  the  Councila.  44-47:  its 
lack  of  natiooal  feelings  5»-57; 
character  of  ita  dviliaation,  73-76; 
character  of  Jta  language,  75; 
character  of  ita  paganism,  94-95: 
the  restriction  of  iU  language  for 
a  period  to  the  common  people^ 
08;  the  revival  of  ita  language  for 
literary  purposes,  9^101;  tiie 
character  of  ita  courts,  xoa;  its 
Gothic  architecture,  109-ixo;  its 
history  in  the  half  century  imme* 
diately  precedixxs  the  outbreak  of 
the  Protestant  Revolution,  191-98; 
its  trend  toward  paganism,  %iy- 
14;  its  trend  toward  rationausai, 
3X4-x6;  orthodoxy  of  its  lower 
classes,  316-X7;  its  opposition  to 
the  Germsn  ideaa  of  relinooa  re- 
form, 317;  Protestant  ideaa  in, 
333-31. 

Ivan  ni,  Grand-Duke  of  Muscovy,  5x7. 
IV   (the  Terrible),  Tsar  of  Rowa, 
5x4,   SX7-X8. 

Ivry,  battle  of,  498. 

Jagellon,    Polish   dynasty   of,    5x3-14. 
smaica,  discovery  of,  x83. 
anduxn.    John   of,    joint    author   of  the 
Defensor  Poets,  30. 

Janizaries,  the  Turkish,  403-03. 
anow,    Matthew   of,   Bohemian   religious 

reformer,    x6o. 
fanssen,   Zacharias,   Dutch   optician,   14X. 
fanuary.   Edict  of    (1563),  49  x. 
farnac,  battle  of,  A93. 
[eanne  d'Arc,  see  Arc. 
Jena.  University  of,  507. 

Jengniz  Khan,  36. 
enkinson,  Anthony,  English  Bailor  and 
explorer,  518. 
Jesuits  (Society  of  Je8ti8)|  their  checking 
of  Protestantism  in  Italy.  320; 
their  opposition  to  the  Anti-Trini- 
tarians in  Poland,  353;  their  rise, 
SI  3-29;  selection  and  training  of 
leir  members,  420-21 ;  tneir 
ranks,  421-22;  the  provincials, 
422;  the  general  and  his  assistants, 
433;  the  general  congregation, 
433;  their  ideal  and  guiding  prin- 
ciple, 423;  as  preachers,  424;  as 
confessors,  424-3^;  as  teachers, 
425,  451-53;  as  missionaries,  425- 
36;  their  progress  imder  the  gen- 
eralship  ox    Loyola,   427-38;    as  a 


VI  (fitienne  Aubcrt),   Pope.   xi.  product     of     their    time.     438-29; 

VII  (Cosimo  dei  Migliorati).     Pope,  their    activity    in    the    Council    of 


VI  n      (Giovanni      Battista      Cibo), 

Pope,    104,    192,   398. 
IX    (Giovanni    Antonio    Fachinetti)^ 

Pope,  504. 


Trent,  428;  under  Lainez,  448-49; 
under  ^De  Borgia,  440;  under 
Mercurian,  450;  under  Acquaviva, 
450-^2;  their  merito,  453;  their 
expulsion    by    the    Parlementi   oi 


I.  Jil- 


and    Dijon.    4M> 


Ftii>.    Bontn. 
in  FolADdt    '   ~ 
JodcUc,  Ihitnnf 

Jobs,  IBns  of 
IW.  41. 
II,  XJna  of  Cudlt,  ■■  •  patroa  < 

Kiiia    of    Ea^nd,    mj* 
II,  Kins  o<  Fnnee,  at- 
F>l«otosui,    BjuatiiM   Enperor,   t 
I,  King  01  Fortugal,  179,  180. 

qouTcl  Willi  Lonlc  of  Baniia,  i 

Jo-ii,    41:    hi*    qou-nl    with    tl 

Spiritiul  FraaciKau,  it,  ao-jj. 

XXIII  (BUdtwan  Cona),  Pope,  1 

Siiluiuiid,    Prince    of   TruwjrlTaBl 

David  Starr,  qtMted,  464. 


Jordan,  Davi 
ordaniu,of 

JmU,    Dav. 


Ill  (Cardinal  Giovanni  Maiia  dd 
Monte),    Pope,    331,    «3.   .ji-jj. 

lunu.  the  Spanish  NJEbt.  473. 

JuUilicalion  \>y  faith  alone,  ibe  doctrine 
of,  explanation  of,  dj6-J7 ;  lla 
adoption  by  Luther,  jij-iS;  a 
Catholic  view  ol,  jio-ai;  discna- 
lion  in  the  Council  of  Trent  oi. 
4SI-i4<  440> 

K^aerberf,  fidlcr  *an.  Genotn  bmnai>> 
iit,  aia. 

j6i-6s,  J?) 

Karathan*  and  N .— .. 

Kaaan,  Tartar  khanate  of, 
Kempla,  Thoma*  k,  ijo-ji 
Kewler,     John,     SwIm    Pi 

378. 


the  Teutonic, 

Koaler,  Laarencc,    Dutch 
Kulikoo,   bMIle  of,   317- 


Teolonic  Order, 
-e    by    tb«   Dnich, 


Laboren,  the  Eiialiih 


Lamoral,  Count  of  E| 
Landino,    Quulofcro, 


luTiai 


LancUnd.  William,  Eniliah 

Laturuet,   Hubert,    French  I , 

.  RochcUe,  atronihold  of  the  HuKoi 


■i,  Hubert,  French  hutorian,  jia. 
jhcUe,  atronihold  of  the  HuKOcnoK. 
491.    494.    soo;    Peace    ot    (1J73), 

I^ald,    fia.    PoUih    hiuoaniat    and    re- 

Laterao    CouneU,   the   nfth,    tjt,   ii*. 

Latin  Charch,  ,f  Church. 

Idtin  Empire  of  ConctanCinopte,  u, 

Latin  Laniuase  and  Literature,  hacmV 
cdce  7  it  In  the  Middle  A<e*, 
84'C(}  ita  renTil  at  the  time  of 
the  Renaiaance,  S5-S7;  Ita  a^rM 
■■■;    U-S«i     - 


9S-M;   It*   meral    Eumpeu    nae. 

rrSoille,  Ceorg. 


•ecoDO    «eneral"  SI*"  the 
41 S,     4>7<     4J9>     44^9. 


Lea,  Henry  Charles.  American  biatorian, 
DO     Ibe     deiirihilliy     of     religlaiN 

League,   Cathotic, '  the   French,  496-M, 

,    ,  of  rhe  Public  Good.    189. 

LcftTre,  Jacgaea,  Freoch  hamaaiM,  aoS> 

aaS,  183-85,301. 
Lciceatsr,  Robert  Dudley,  Earl  of,  485. 


lea  of  propertie*  of.  141. 

J  de-  MeiUcI),  Pope,  Ut 
isfi;  hit  political  poiicy, 
■^(,  —  attitude  in  the  proaecu- 
tun  of  SeucUin,  aiTi  hi)  latuance 
of  indulgence*.  ia6;  hi*  attitude  to- 
ward* Lutber.  aif-ja;  bi*  neglect 
of  reugiouB  matten,  317;  a*  a 
patron  of  art  and  Utemture,  377- 
781  a*  a  patron  of  Batrologjr,  405- 

XUI  (ViDcent  Joachim  PeccI),  Pope, 
hia   reYi«ion   of  the   Indei,  4jj. 
Leon,  Fray  Lul*  de.  Spanlah  myitic,  jjs. 
Lepanto,   naval  battle  of,  464,  471,  489. 
Le*cot,    Pierre,    French    architect,   sjo. 
L4tttri  at  Obtcmrt  Mil,  Tkt,  aii. 
Leyden,   Jan  of,  Anabvtin  leader,  548. 

Uiuvenity  of,  J3i. 
L'HApital,     Uiche)     de,     Chanoellof     of 
, .,      J"^S-  1*4,  4»o.  «».  491- 
Libertine*,  Genena  party,  tf  Eidgoioa 

LictI  ab  tattio,  papal  bull  ettabliihuig  the 

Perfected  Inquiiitkin,   jjS. 
Licbtenbecger,    Joaeph,    Auatrian    aatrol- 

L^l,  Fra  Lippo,  Italian  painter,  11 9-10. 
Lipniu  (Jocit  Up*),  Juatu*,  Dutch  pbil- 

Litmanini,  Franci*,  PoIUh  bumaniit,  it(. 
Literature,  rniral  of,  76-107;  derdop- 
t  of,    }7i-8o;   the   republic  of 


'"nalt^i^conao 


tiMrawre  In  the  Bwdcra  « 


L'Ormc,    Fhilibert   de,    French   architect, 

Loriti,'^t7.  itt  Glarcanua. 

Louia  IV  (of  Wittclibach;  the  Banrlan) 

IX,  lUng  of  France,  hla  acknowledg- 
ment of  Enalitb  claim*  in  France, 
37:  hia  indlviduil  characler,  61; 
bi*  aeliTliy  in   geographical  explo- 

X,  King  of  France,  iB. 

XI,  King  of  France,  iS«-po. 

XII,  King    of    Fruce,    ipj'fT. 

1    (of   Aojou;    the    Great),    King  of 

HoDgary    and    Poland.    41.    sii- 
U,  King  of  Hungary  and   BolifiBl» 

Lonra&rVnhcnltjr  of,  44^ 


622 


INDEX 


Loyola.  Ignatius  (Inigo  Lopes  de  Re- 
cml(&)»  his  part  in  the  establish- 
ment of  the  Perfected  Inquisition. 
aa8;  his  early  life  and  the  rise  ot 
le  J[e8uits.  413-27;  his  ideal  of  the 
Jesuit  Order,  4J3,  4^1;  his  cor- 
respondence, 434;  bis  character, 
427,  420;  hu  generalship,  4J7-a8; 
bis  death,  428. 

Lublin,    Union    of,    513. 

Lucca,   heresy  at,   32  $• 

Luder,  Peter,  German  humanist,  aio. 

Lull,  Raymond,  medieval  humanist,  zjy- 
28. 

Lupetino,  Baldo,  Italian  martyr,  325. 

Luthes,  Martin,  his  indebtedness  to  the 
BUchltin  von  dtuttchtn  Thtohfcie, 
168;  timidity  of  his  revolution, 
172,  355;  his  attitude  towards  the 
n^tics,  Z73;  his  realization  of  the 
importance  of  the  financial  motive 
in  the  opposition  to  Rome,  199; 
his  revolt  from  Rome,  223-40;  as 
the  long-awaited  leader  of  social 
revolution,  251;  his  social  teaching 
and  its  effects,  251-52;  his  repudi- 
ation of  the  peasants  and  support 
of  the  secular  authorities,  256-^7, 
368.  454»  535;  W«  death,  267;  his 
part  m  the  religious  conference  at 
Marburg,  274;  contrast  of  his 
views  with  those  of  Zwtngli,  27^ 
81;  his  intolerance,  363;  on  the  re- 
sults of  the  Protestant  Revolution 
to  morals,  366:  his  rejection '  of 
reason  as  a  religious  guide,  367*, 
his  belief  in  astrology,  406-07;  ms 
belief  in  the  devil.  410. 

Lntfaeranism,  how  it  came  to  be  a  po- 
litical power,  2,$or6o;  its  develop- 
ment, 260-63  fiU  state  churches, 
343-44»  345;  its  spread,  430;  its 
schisms,  354-55f  S06-08;  its  re- 
sulu  to  letters  and  to  the  arts, 
522-23. 

Loseme,  Swiss  canton  of,  its  admission 
to  the  Confederation,  269;  its  part 
in  the  first  Swiss^  religious  war, 
273-74;  its  part  in  the  govern- 
ment  of   St.   Gall,   278.^ 

Lyons,  as  a  center  of  humanism,  207. 
Edict  of  (1536),  237. 

Macaulay,  Thomas  Babington,  quoted, 
431,  44^,   510. 

Machiavelli,  r^icol6,  his  theory  of  "the 
return  to  the  original  source,'*  221; 
his  opposition  to  Christianity,  373- 
74;  his  fundamenul  principle,  ^74- 
75;  his  aims,  375;  his  writings, 
375-76;  defects  of  his  social  view, 
376;  as  a  historian,  376;  as  a  dram- 
atist,   379-80. 

Madeira  Islands,  discovery  of,   179. 

Madrid,  Treaty  of  (i525)»  259. 

Maestricht,   massacre   at,   483-84. 

Magdeburg  Centuries,  538. 

Magdeburg,  Metchild  of,  German  mystic, 
167. 

Magellan,  Ferdinand,  Spanish  explorer, 
182. 

Magyars,    history    of   the,    511-19. 

Mainz,  University  of,   211. 

Major,  George,  Lutheran  theologian,  355. 

Malacca,    181. 

Malatesta,   Gismondo,  Italian  despot,  70, 

104* 
Maldonat,  Jesuit  teacher,  449. 
Malta,  siege  of,  399. 


Manetti,  Gianosso^  Italian  fw<M*iMj  93. 

Manresa,  414. 

Mantegna,  Andrea,  Italian  painser,  isob 

121. 
Mantoa,  as  a  center  of  cttltnre*  103,  ijo, 

Manuel,    Nicholas,    Bemeae    artist    aad 

statesman,   275. 
Manuscripts,  QassicaL   discovery  of.  87. 
Mannzio,   Aldo,   founder   of   tbie  Aidhie 
preaa,  521. 
Jr.,   Aldo,   Venetian   publisher,   521. 
Paolo.   Venetian  publisher,   c'l. 
Mans,  Felix,  Swiss  religious  radical,  27s. 
Maps,   improvement   in   the   «wWw«g  of» 

138. 
Marburg,  religious  conference  ai;  274. 

University  oL  211. 
Marcellus  II    (Marcello  Cervini),  Pope. 

3^i»    433f    437* 
Margaret    (of  Parma),   of   Austria  and 

Burgundy,      Duchess     of      Savoy, 

Governor-General    in    the    Nether^ 

lands.  472,  477-8o- 
(of  Valois),  first  wife  of  Henry  IV 

of    France,    49^. 
Ifaria,  Portuguese  princess,  first  wife  of 

PhUiplI  of  Spain.   466. 
Mariana,Juan  de,  Spaniah  historian,  539b 
Marot,  C4i6ment,   French  poet,  304,  32s. 
Marsigli,  Luigi,  Italian  humanist,  92. 
Marsiiio  of  Padua,  medieval  writer,  20- 

32,   359- 
Marsuppini,  (^lo.  Italian  humanist,  93. 
Martin  V   (Otto  (^lonna).  Pope,  x6.  15s- 
Mary,  Queen  of  Englancl,  second  wife  of 

Philip  II  of  Spain,  467,  469. 
(Stuart),  Queen  of  Scots,  469,  488, 

489. 
KaMccio  (Tommaso  Guidi),  Italian  paint- 
er, X18. 
Mathematics,  revival  of  research  in,  129- 

30. 
Matthias  I,  King  of  Hungary,  sxx-xa. 
Mathys,  Jan,  Anabaptist  leader,  348-49. 
Maximilian    I    (of   Uapsburg),  Emperor, 

190-91,    193,    197,    198,    336,   406, 

501-02. 
II   (of  Hapsburg),  Emperor,  504-05. 
Meaux,     ecclesiastical     reform     at,    284, 

285-86. 
Mechlin     (Malines),    Treaty    of    (1513), 

197;  sack  of,  581;  its  recovery  oy 

the   Dutch,   484. 
Mediating  reformers.  Catholic,   320-21. 
Medici,    House    of,    at    Florence,    45-46, 

I94f   I97« 

Catherine  de'.  Queen  of  France,  286, 
446,  488-98. 

Cosimo  de*,  Fjither  of  his  Country, 
as  the  ruler  of  Florence,  4w6; 
as  a  patron  of  literature  and  art, 
92-94;  founder  of  the  Florentine 
Academy,  96. 

Cosimo  I  de',  first  Grand-Duke  of 
Tuscany,    446. 

Giovanni    de ,    45. 

Lorenzo  de',  the  Magnificent,  as  a 
ruler,  46;  as  a  patron  of  litera- 
ture and  art,  95-99;  as  a  poet, 
99-100. 

Picro   de'    (1419-69),    father   of  Lo- 


renzo the   Magnificent,    46. 

492-1^0^'^ 
of  Lorenzo  the  Magnificent,  194. 


renzo  tne    Magnmcent,    ^6. 
Picro    de'     (1492-1^03)^    eldest    son 


Medicine,  revival  of  research  in,  136. 
Meditatio   cordis,  paoal  bull  putting  the 

Inquisition  onaer  way  in  Poru^al, 

340. 


INDEX 


623 


lleUochtlum  (Schwartserd),  Phili|>.  his 
character  and  inflaence  upon  the 
Lutheran  revolt,  as4}  hb  author- 
ship of  the  CoinfcsBioo  of  Augs- 
burg. 26a-6zi  his  recognition  of  tne 
hopelessness  of  theological  reun- 
ion, 265;  at  the  religious  Confer- 
ence at  Marburg,  S74;  his  oppres- 
sion hj  Protestant  scholasticism, 
355;  hu  intolerance,  364;  on  the 
rmlts  of  the  Protestant  Rero- 
Indon  to  morals,  366;  his  belief  in 
astrologr,   406,   407. 

Iffdoria,  naval  battle  os  the  island  of, 

Memling,  Haios,  Flemish  painter,  390. 

Memoir-writers,    5  30-4 1 . 

Mercurian,  Everard,  fourth  general  of 
the.  Jesuits,  450. 

Metz,  Sim  of,  467. 

Meyer,  Sebastian,  religious  reformer  at 
Bern,   275. 

Mexico,  461-63. 

Miani,    Gtrolamo,    Italian    Catholie 
former,    319. 

Michelangelo,  ms  influence  upon  archi- 
tecture, 380;  as  a  sculptor,  381- 
83:   as   a   painter,    385-86. 

Middle  Ages,  character  of  its  science. 
I2A-S8;  its  efforts  to  effect  moral 
reform,    149. 

Middleburg,    capture    of,    48a. 

Milan,  its  early  history,  39;  its  insignifi- 
cance ss  a  center  of  literature. 
X03;  important  as  a  center  ox 
pamting,  103;  quarrel  over  its  con- 
trol between  Cnarles  V  and  Fran- 
cis I,  264;  heresy  st.  325> 

Militant   Catholicism,   s€€   Catholicism. 

Mindm,  Ushopric  of,  509. 

Mineralogy,  beginning  of  the  science  of, 

>  34-35- 

Mirandola,  Pico  della,  see  Pico  della 
Mirandola. 

Mirrors,  improvements  in  making,  141. 

Missal,    revision   of,    44^. 

Modena,  ss  a  center  of  humanism  and 
heresy,    323. 

Mohacs,    battle    of,    'S9*^39& 

Mohammed  II,  Turkish  Sultan,  397. 

Moncontour.    battle   of,    493- 

Monluc,  Blaise  de',  French  memoir- 
writer,  540. 

Mons,   battle   at,   481. 

Montaigne,  Michel  Kyouem  de,  as  a  free- 
winker,  357*,  nis  writings  and 
phUosoDhy,   52^30-        ^  ,_, 

Montauban,  Huguenot  stronghold,  494, 
500. 

Monte,  Cardinal  Giovanni  Maria  del,  ««# 
^uUttS  IIL 

Montignv,  Floris  de  Montmorency,  Baron 
of,  479. 

Montmorency,    Anne    de.    Constable    of 
France,  A89,  49I1  493.     ^  ^ 
Francis,  Duke  of.  Marshal  of  France, 

495- 
Henry   (Count  of  DamviUe),  Duke 

ofi   497- 

MontpelUer,    Huguenot   stronghold,    500. 

Montserrat,  4'4* 

Mook,  battle  of,  483. 

Moors,  in  Spain,  47,  t9i»  SSi'$»»  334* 
464* 

Morato,    Olympia,    Italian    scholar    and 
heretic,  3'J* 
'Pelle«jnO|    Italian    scholar,    %22, 

Moravian  Brethren,  ###  Bohemian  Breth- 
ren. 
More*  Sir  ThooiMb  ••  •  hnmanitt,  «04' 


05;  hia  views  regarding  religious 
tdlerance,   350. 

Mori^arten,  battle  of,  244. 

Monscos,    in    Spain,   465,    470. 

Momay,  Philippe  de.   Seigneur  du  Pies 
sis-Marly,  Huguenot  publicist,  495, 
536. 

Morone,  Cardinal  Giovanni,  mediating  re- 
former,   MI,    333.^3*5.    440. 

Moura,    Don    Cnstobal    de,    member    of 
the   Spanish    Night  Junta,   473. 

Mtthlbers:    battle    of.    S67. 

MttUer,  Hans,  a  lesder  of  social  revolu- 
tion, 254. 

Mundinus,  Italian  anatomist,  135. 

Munster,  bishopric   of,  509;  Anabaptista 
at,   349-50. 

Mfinser,   Thomas,   radical    religious   and 
social  leader,  234-3$,  35s. 

Murad  I,  Turkish  Sultan,  37. 

Muret,     Marc-Antoine,     French     philolo- 


gian,    531. 
Muscovy,   s€€  Russia. 
Mutian,  sgg  Rufus. 

Myconius,  Oswald,  ZwingUan  leader,  277. 
Mysticism,  definiuon  of,  161-63. 
Mystics,  French,  163-64;  Italian,  164-67: 

German,   167-69:  English,   160;  ot 

the  Low  Countries,  169-72;  Span- 

iab,    334-35. 
Music,  the  birth  of  modem,  554-55. 

Nsarden,   destruction  of,  481. 

Nantes,   Edict  of   (1598),  499-^00. 

Naples,  its  Angevine,  Hungarian,  and 
Aragonese  rulers,  38,  42,  46-47* 
as  a  center  of  culture  (with  Sicily> 
under  Frederick  II,  58,  75,  76; 
as  a  center  of  culture  after  Fred- 
erick, 102:  as  a  center  of  heresy, 
32<-26;  tne  spirit  of  the  place, 
526-27. 
Ladislss  of,  46. 

Nassau,  Louis  of,  479,  480,  481,  482. 
Maurice  of,  486. 

William  (the  Silent)  of,  365,  477-^5. 
William   of,    oldest  son   of  William 

the    Silent,    486. 
William  Louis  of,  486. 

Nationality,  definition  of  nationality,  50- 
53;  how  nationality  had  been  lost, 
53-55;  where  nationality  came 
back,  55-56;  where  nationality 
la^ed,  56-57;  the  worth  of  nation- 
ality, 57-58. 

Navigation,  revival  of  invention  in,  137. 

Navarre,    description    of,    47,    457;    con- 

fuest   of   the   Spanish    portion   by 
Ferdinand  of  Spain,  48,  19 1>  i97» 
489. 
Margaret,  Queen  of,  322,  326,  330. 

Nasianzus,  (vregory  of,  CTreek  Father  of 
the  (^urch,  145. 

Nebrija,  Elio  Antonio  de,  Spaniih  hu- 
manist.  208-09. 

Neckham,  Alexander  of,  English  scho- 
lastic and  man  of  science,  137. 

Neo-Platonism,  je§  Platonism. 

Neri,  PhUip,  Catholic  priest,  philan- 
thropist, and  saint,  448. 

Netherlands,  how  it  had  been  formed, 
47«-76:  its  institutions,  476;  re- 
volt  of,   475-*7« 

New  Granada,  461. 

Nno  Life,  Thg.  Dante'a  autobiograpU* 
cti  and  symbolical  work,  7^9. 

Newspaper,  the.  dawn  of,  54<* 

Nice,  Truce  of  (x538),  264. 

Nkcoli*  Nicoolo*  Italiaa  hmaaitC*  9^ 


W— ».T^wL*X'  1*,  Fndh 

Dica  oTltiMa-n),  am  (tfMli  awt 


OOnr,  ftmah,  CJmrtlT  of  Ftaaa^ 

Opcra,'^^  of  tk^  515. 

Optica,   InrttlGM  fa,   141. 

Otmat  (WDNm  Hw  Sffaiit).  Print  ■& 

Ontoiiot  tirtt  of,  IJS. 

e»  and  imlptBc.  iia. 

of,  iSi^' 
Orfean,  fmUA  Sollaa,  17. 
-■  If  a*  Biatta  Ce«w»l  at 


nra  la  tomt,  tii  aScoa  ^  M 
«ai«iTft¥  vpoB  tka  Oiudk,  u-Q 
iSS:  caaeU  •(  ka  1  mutittii  ^M 
tkc  tdifloaa  tifC  af  the  liBC,  ■>• 
>«.  ■66-«7;  Ike  GrcM  ScUn  rf 
Uw.  _ tv-i6;    i«»    yiriil   siik  Mn 

a^nul  £1^  ta  InET^MB  ■ 
vtfm  of  loam  a^  aft.  im4& 
MX  ■««■,  fta  adofMiciB  <rf  A(  (33 

feaa^ika^      Papal  St*t&  itc  cartr  i^torj,  ja-,  aJB 

■IMliaHt  P^pe*  Siitdi   IV,    Itioctnt  VS 

'•-'*    -*■  mnd    Gngarr    XIV.  ■ 

P»P".    inmotioa    ot    ij». 

■  frH-thiulicT.  356. 
Pans,    Pulcment   oE.    ij^a.    iSi-Cs,  jgi, 

O.Kyr  •&  ifs-   Ai  «k»  s» 


Jagi 


OnaiidcriaiB,  ju. 
Ouubruck,   bafaopric  ofj   5^^ 

Padcibom,    biibopric    of,    S09. 

Padua,  u  a  ctntCT  of  haaiintw^ 
u  a  center  of  ntioiulum*  31, 
a  cenicT  of  hcmr,    ]i$. 

PagaBimi,     M-fls:    of    <« 

MntiEut  *o  indhrfdiitl  art,  *];  tarlr 
FiemialL  389-90:  earlr  Dti«ii  300- 
gi;  earljr  rrcnch.  ^1;  axlj  Cer- 
man.  J9»-9j;  deduia  of.  ss*-S4; 
xr<  aln  Aft 

Pilladio.    Andrea,   ttaliaa  arcUtact,   54*. 

Palurio,     Aoaio.     Italian     bcreti^     iO, 

PaUtiiute,  Eledora  Abtina,  FrcderU 
III,  JD«;  Loni*  VI.  w6;  Frwl. 
crie  TV,  S06;  John  Caafidr,  rccart 


natrtni.   reli^iotu  brcU  6<^ 

hd   1!    (Pio™  Bubo).   Po«.  ije. 

m  (.Vnundro  ftraatiTPa^w^, 
,,?«?•-  3^   ,5"-,    *'9-    4S»-i3.  4» 


URnbTT  of  the   c£mll  af'Tr^ 
Pa™.  Tattle  of,  a».  *». 
"  Peace  of  MoiHinr  **   UijSi,  the.  jii. 
Pcanntrr,  dianctcr  ot  tlSr  yTfa  Of 

later   Middle  A«e^  fii;   •'~rt  *■ 

content  u  the  m  of  tte  Fii^a 

rerolt    tfOB    ROBM^    1 


ttaetr  jneul  dMemtcat.  141-47. 
Federaon.    Oviatiaa,    Dutah    fi^MriA 

PerprtlS  O^mSe.  ac*   riiajfi. 
Pem.  4Si-6'L. 

Feroitoo.  (VannaecO.  Pieln^  I^hs 
Peter  t^K-k^  oYa^ob  »nd  SicQT.  * 
„  .  1  (tin  I'i:-1K  King  of  Culilc.  a. 
Fetiarefa       rPftrana).       Francescc.      fan 

coanKni    upon    tbe     Black    Dotft. 


Sl-ii;  u  a  Liiin  revivilist.  B;-M: 
at  a  GmV  rniTSliK,  g^;  aod  Ih* 


INDEX 


63S 


Peuerbach,  George  of »  Geraian  astron- 
omer*  131. 

Petitinger,  Conrmdt  German  humaniti; 
ai3. 

Pfefferkorn,  Johann,  opponent  of  Rendi- 
lin»  ax 6. 

Pfeffinger,    John,    Lutheran    theologiant 

Philip  IV,  King  of  Franoe.  hia  policy 
and  career,  9-10:  relations  with 
Pope  Clement  V,  ix;  suppres- 
sion of  the  Templars,  11;  his 
projects  for  the  advancement  of 
France,  27-28;  his  encouragement 
of  the  legists,  534. 
y.  King  of  France,  aS. 
Vt,  King  of  France,  28-29. 
II,  King  of  Spain,  hia  presence  at 
the  second  auto-da>f£  in  Spain, 
338;  his  appropriation  of  the  reve- 
nue from  Carranxa's  property,  340; 
hia  conditional  acceptance  of  the 
Trentine  decrees,  445;  aided  and 
influenced  hj  Gregory  XIII,  4A7; 
as  regent  of  Spain,  466-67;  his 
character,  46^-69;  as  King  of 
Spain,  460-74;  as  ruler  of  the 
Netherlands,    477-B^ 

Philippine  Islands,  discoTcry  of,  x8a. 

PhilippisU,    507- 

Philologians,   S3i-3.a.  ,  ^   , 

Physics,  the  revival  of  research  in,  132- 

Physiofogy,    the   revival  of  research'  in, 

135-36- 
Picaresque    N9VCI,    547-48.  ,     ^    ,^ 

Pico   della   Mirandola,   Giovanni,  Italian 

humanist,  98,  271,  405. 
PUrs  th€  Plowman,  Th^  Vtsion  of  WO- 

Ham  concoming,  84,  243. 
Pilato  (Pilatus),  Leontius,  Greek  teacher, 

89-90. 
Pirkheimer,  Willibald,  German  humanist, 

2x3-14. 
Pisa,    its    early   history,    39;    the    Black 
Death   at,    43- 
Council  of  (1409)^  I5t  IS^* 
Andrew    of,    Italian    sculptor,    X12, 

X13. 
Giunta  of,  Italian  painter,  1x6. 
John  of,   Italian  sculptor,    112. 
Leonardo    of,    medieval     mathemati- 
cian.   X20. 
Nicholas  of.  Italian  sculptor,  xxx-X2. 
Pistoia,    Cino  da,   Italian   writer,   77. 
Pistoris,     Matemus,     German     humanist, 

2I4« 

Pius  II  (.£neas  Sylvius  Piccolomtni), 
Pope,  as  a  humanist  and  a  patron 
of  humanism,  X05,  X55.      .,  ..  ., 

IV  (Giovanni   Angelo   de'   Medio), 

V  ^ich\1e  ^'hisfiJri),  Pope,  his 
character,  329;  and  the  trial  of 
Carranxa,     340:     his     pontificate, 

444^6;  «nd  Index.  453. 

PIxarro,  Francisco,  Spanish  conqueror, 
46X. 

Plantin.  Christophe,  French  printeri>nb* 
Usher  in  Antwerp,  S33- 

Plato,  his  attraction  for  the  scholars  of 
the  Renaissance,  96-97;  his  philo- 
sophical  point  of  view,   $24-25- 

Platonic  Academy,  soo  Academies. 

Platoniam,  the  adulterated  character  of 
Renaissance  Platonism  (Neo-Plat^ 
onism),  96-«7:  Neo-Platonism  ex- 
pressed in  Policiano's  poetx-v  and 
BottfeeUi's  paintinfc  lox;  inilnftnco 


of    Neo-Platonism    upon    religious 
thought,   280,   35X,   359;   influence 
of    Neo-Platonism    upon    the   new 
philosophy,  524-28. 
Pleiad,  a  group  of  French  writers,  S4^^ 


Plethon,   Gemistos,   Florentine   humanistf 

Plettenberg,  Walter  voxi,  ruler  of  Livonia. 
31 X. 

Plotinus,  the  chief  Neo-Platonist  of  Alex- 
andria, 97. 

Poggio  Bracciolini  (Giovaxini  Franceaco). 
Italian  humanist,  93-94. 

Poissy,  Colloquy  of  (xs6x},  305,  44^49b 
491. 

Potiers,  University  of,  534. 

Poland,  national  consolidation  in,  7;  hu- 
manism in,  210,  S13;  its  union 
with  Lithuania,  3x0,  312;  heresy 
in,,  ^X2-i3,  351-52.  430,  513;  the 
uniting    and    dissolution    of,    5x3- 

««         x6. 

Pole,  Cardixial  Reginald,   32 x,  325,  433, 

Poliah  Brethren,  Anti-TriniUrian  group, 

^52. 
**  Politiques,"     French     political-religioua 

ff^^^Pi  4.94*   495*   49^- 

Polisiano  (Pohtian).  Angelo  AmbroginL 
as  a  humanist,  98;  as  a  poet  and 
dramatist,    x  00-01. 

Polos,   the,   Venetian   explorers,    177-78. 

Pomponazzi,  Pietro,  lulian  rationalist, 
314-15* 

Pontano  (Pontanus),  Giovanni  Gioviano, 
Neapolitan  humanist,  X02. 

Pontoise,  meeting  of  the  Sutes-General 
at,  491. 

Portolani,  see  Maps. 

Portunl,  its  early  history,  47;  the  re- 
ligious movement  in,  340-41;  its 
annexation  to  Spain,  471. 

Poyet,  Guillaume,  Chancellor  of  France, 
287. 

Poynet,  John,  English  publicist,  536. 

Pragmatic  Sanction  of  Bourges  (1438), 
x8,    X57. 

Prague,    Terome  of,   Bohemian   religious 
reformer,  X57. 
University   of.   2x0.   243. 

Prester  John^   fabled  Innjar,    176-77. 

Printer-Publishers,  see   Publishers. 

Printing,    invention   of,    130,    x  39-40. 

Proletariat,  see  Cities. 

Protest  (at  the  Second  Diet  of  Spires)^ 
the  famous,  262. 

Protestant  Revolution,  its  antecedents, 
173-74;  political  affairs  at  the 
opexiing  of.  X  89-200;  the  com- 
plexity of  its  character,  190-200; 
why  It  gained  no  foothold  in  the 
Romanic  lands.  341-42;  its  results^ 
343-70.  4^x;  its  new  scholasticism^ 
355;  the  mtolerance  of  its  leaden^ 
363-64,  43  x;  its  occurrence  in  an 
age  of  immorality,  367;  its  neces- 
sfty,   369-70. 

Provence,  as  a  center  of  heresy,  65;  ss 
a  cradle  of  individuality  and  cul- 
ture.  67-68.  75. 

Provins,  Gnyot  de,  medieval  inventor, 
X37. 

Prussia,  crestion  of  the  duchy  of,  3x1; 
Protestantism  in,  310-ix. 

Publicists,   534-37. 

Publishers,  521,  532-33. 

Pulci,    Luigi,    Italian    poet,     xeo,    gyi. 

Pnpp^t  John,  see  Goch. 


^     '* 


. ».  ^-ci.  sian- 

7    »'..a    Con- 

.,    ::i5.   3-20. 

_    .      .-jjchcr  of 

'■:".     isivinK 
.    •-  :<  Society 

i-'ifr).    Ger- 

i:.    137- 
;:   ReRcncy. 
—  a",     imperial 

^  -.:  -i' humanist, 

.     : :    its    Rcn- 

.*  .:.    m;    its   un- 

-.      •        -^-71.     556; 

x-i:".    in    France, 

>fc*"n  in   Italy, 

.  .  ■    :rt    the    (icr- 

• .    its   character 

.-     character     in 

.-»  .  -j'jicicr  in  Eng- 

*    .  • :  icter   in    Spain. 

«      -j:   aiiiiiiatcd    its 

;  -.-tf  of  the  revival 

.:•:   its  paganism. 

:    :   !4:    its   spread 

.      .  -  ;•.  VlarlcsVIlI  of 

^«       ::.<     rationalism, 

■s    : J! lure    to    take 

■V  :;.*.    its    formation 

•    V.-.T-opean    culture, 

.     ^v!     id,  5-3"'=4.   553- 

,»!.    '.Vn  Luis  de,  Vicc- 
V    N.". 'erlands.    4S2. 
,    :     /c-:tsan   scholar,  215- 

..  ^v    '.-achim).     German  as* 
.«.•    wvi   mathematician,    132, 

.-.  f   by   the   Turks,  259, 


u;-uii,        Kuoruquis.     William     d( 

plorer,    177. 
Rudolf    I    (of   Iiapsburg 

territorial       acquis 

career  as  Emperoi 

II   (of  Ilapsburg),  ] 

Rufus,      Mutianus,      Gei 

214.   215. 
Rupert    (of    Luxemburg; 

nate).  Emperor,  2 
Russia,   its  absorption   oJ 

land,    and    Esthor 
,     rise,    S16-19. 
Ruysbrook,  John  of,  Fler 

70. 

Saavedra,  Miguel  de  Cei 

vantes. 
Sacchctti,  Franco,  Italian 

ist,   379. 
Sacraments,    decision    of 

Trent    regarding, 
Sacrobosco    (John    of    li 

lish  astronomer,  i 
Sadoleto,    Cardinal,    his 

back  the  Geneves 

Church,    296;    as 

former,    320-21; 

378. 
Sadolin,  Jorgen,  Danish 
Sagarclli,  Gerard,  Italian 
St.    Bartholomew,    Massa 
St.   Denis,  battle  of,  492 
St.    Germain-cn-Laye,    P< 

49J- 
St.  Quentin,  battle  of,  4; 
Saints,     adoration    of,     < 

Council  of  Trent 
Salamanca,    University    c 

459> 
Salmeron,    Alfonso,    Jesi 

c  1       ^-7.    135..  439-  ,. 
Salutato.  Coluccio,  Itaha 

Chancellor  of  Flor 
Sancerre,  Huguenot  strc 
Sannazaro,  Jacopo,  Itali 
San- Roman,   Francisco  & 

tyr,   337. 


INDEX 


627 


SavQft  Dulcet  of,  ai  mien  of  Genevm* 
j88. 
Louise    of,    mother    of    Francis    I, 
S85. 

Saxony,    House    of    (Wettin),    rise    of. 
S4-SC. 
its  division   into  the   Ernestine  and 

Albertine  lines  (1485),  267. 
Ernestine,    so<$* 

Augustus  I,  second  elector  of  Alber- 
tine, 506,  507. 
Frederick    III    (the    Wise).    Elector 
(1486-1535)     of     Ernestine,     22%, 
229,  S38. 
George,  Duke  of  Albertine,  s6o. 
Henry,  Duke  (1539-41)  of  Albertine, 

365. 
John  Elector  (1525-^2)  of  Ernestine, 

338,    35s,    360,    363. 
John    Frederick,    Elector    (1533-47) 

of  Ernestine,  363.  366. 
Maurice,  Duke  (1541-S3)  and  Elec- 
tor (1547-53)  of  TUbentne,  his 
accession  to  the  Duchf,  365;  his 
neutrality  in  the  Schmalkaldic 
War,  366-67;  his  acquisition  of 
the  electoral  title  and  of  territory 
from  Ernestine  Saxony.  367-68. 
506:  his  return  to  the  Protestant 
ranks,  368;  his  march  towards 
Innsbruck,    436. 

Scala,  Fsmily  of,  40-4 it  103-03. 

Scalixer^   Joseph,  philologian,   531-33. 
Julius    Cesar,    philologian,    531. 

Schaffhausen.  Swiss,  canton  of,  its  ad- 
mission to  the  Confederation,  369; 
its  part  in  the  first  Swis  reugious 
war,  373;  its  revolt  from  Etome, 
378-79. 

Schiedam,  its  capture  by  the  sea-beggars 
481. 

Schism  of  the  Papacy,  the  Great,  iU 
causes,  14;  its  alignments,  14-15; 
its  settlement,  15-16;  its  conse- 
quences, 16. 

Schlettstadt.  humanistic  school  at,  an. 

Schmalkaldic   League,  the,  363. 

Schmalkaldk  War,  367. 

Scholasticism,  its  effects  upon  French 
thought.  73-73:  its  comoarstive  ab- 
sence from  Italy,  7^;  Its  struggle 
with  humanism  in  Germany,  316- 
17;  the  new  Protestantism,  355. 

Schwartz,  Bartholdus,  reputed  inventor 
of  gunpowder,  inventor  of  the 
first  fire-arms,  138. 

Schwenkfeld,   Caspar,   free-thinker,   356- 

57* 

Schwyz.  Swiss  canton  of,  its  member- 
ship in  the  original  Confederation, 
369;  its  character.  370;  its  part  in 
the  first  Swiss  religious  war,  373- 
74;  its  part  in  the  government  of 
St  Galu  278. 

Sdence,  the  revival  of,  134-43;  progress 
of.  555-56. 

Scotland,  rise  of  nationality  in,  56;  Cal- 
vinism in,  430. 

Sculpture,  an  individual  art,  63;  French 
(jothic  sculpture,  73;  the  revival 
of,  111-16;  the  development  of, 
380-83;   its  decline,   551. 

Sebastian.  xSag  of  Portugal,  471. 

Sects,  reugious,  as  a  result  of  the  Protes- 
tant  Revolution.   34S~5S> 

Selim  the  Inflexible.  Turloih  Sultan,  398. 

Seripando,  Cardinal  Girolamo,  434. 

Senretua,  Michael,  as  a  scientist,  136;  as 
a   heretk^   joi-«Jb   JSI* 

Scrri^i  MJ* 


Seso,  Carlos  de,  Italian  Lutheran  In 
Spain,  338. 

Settignano,  Desiderio  da,  Italian  sculp- 
tor,   115. 

Seville,   Protestant  ideas  in,  337-38. 

Sextant,  its  invention,    138. 

Sforza,    Family    of,    103,    197,    364. 
Queen  Bona,  of  Poland,  313.   • 

Shakesi>eare.   William,    524.    546. 

Sicily,  its  Angevine  and  Aragonese  rul- 
ers, 38;  as  a  cradle  of  individ- 
ualitv  and  humanism,  68;  as  one 
of  the  Spanish  possessions,  457. 

Siddngen,  Franz  von,  German  imperial 
Iniight,    336. 

Sidney,  Sir  Phifip,  370,  544-45.  547- 

Siena,  the  Black  Death  at,  43;  as  a  cen- 
ter of  humanism,   101;  heresy  at, 
335. 
Bernardino   of,   Italian   religious  re^ 

former,  65,  154. 
Guido   of,    Italian   painter,    116. 
St.  Catherine  of,  Italian  mystic  and 
statesman,    13-14.    166-67. 

Signorelli,  Luca,  Italian  painter,  isi- 
33. 

Sigismund  (of  Luxemburg),  Emperor  and 
King  of  Hungary,  33-34.  5". 

I,  King   of   Poland,   513. 

II,  King   of    Poland,    513. 

III,  King   of    Poland,    si<-i6. 
Sigismund,  Tn4  Reformation  of  thg  Em^ 

Peror,   244-45. 
Sirleto,  Cardinal,  and  the  reform  of  the 

calendar,    448. 
Sixtus    IV     (Francesco    della    Rovere), 

Pope.   193. 
V  (Felice  Peretti),  Pope,  503-04. 
Slavs,   history   of   the,    cii-io. 
Sleidan,  John,  (German  nutonan,   538. 
Sluys,  battle  of,  39;  its  capture  by  the 

Spanish,   485. 
Social   Revolution,  the,  30-31,   341-57. 
Sodni,    Fauato,    Italian    Anti-Trinitarian, 

313*  33^  352-53* 
Lelio,    Italian    Anti-Trinitarian,   33I9 

353. 
Solothurn,  Swisa  canton  of,  its  admiasioo 

to  the  Confederation^  36^. 
Solyman    I     (Sulayman,    Suleiman)    the 

Magnificent,  Turkish   Sultan,  398- 

99>    512- 

Somascbi,  monastic  order,   319. 

Sorbonne,  College  of  the,   384,   385. 

Spain,  national  consolidation  in,  7,  47^8; 
rise  of  nationality  in,  56;  the 
building    up    of,     191;    Protestant 


ideas    m,    Jji-40;    its    supremacy 

mg  the  Yi 
74;  its  var 
tile    the    most    important    unit   of 


among  the  European  nations,  4^6-' 
74;  its  various  parts,  456-57*^  Ca 


as- 


457-60;    its   backward   agricultural 

and    industrial   condition,    459-60; 

its    colonies,    460-63,    462-63;    its 

failure  and  subsequent  history,  474. 
Spalatin    ((}eorge    Burkhardt   of    Spelt)» 

GAerman    numanist.    314. 
Spectaclea^   invention    ot,    141. 
Spenser,  £dmund,  54^ 
Spina,   Alessandro    di,   Florentine  monk 

and  optician,   141. 
Spirea,    Diets   of     (1536),   a6o;    (isa9)t 

363. 
Spiritual  ExereitM,  Tk€,  414,  416-17. 
Spurs,   battle   of,    197* 
States-Cieneral  of  France,  190,  491,  406. 
Steenwyck,  its  capture  by  the  Dutch,  4B6» 
Stein,  John  von,  Swiia  humanist,  375. 
Stephen    (Bithory)   I,   king  of  Poliii4> 


6aB 


INDEX 


put  in   nc   Snt 


oi;  t4»- 


ClAAlMMtV 

otWHw  Jifiobiy  Cilcnd  01  VBrnB  wtt 

Daki  of. 


pwfBW¥|  ictWsI  of  

Snto  CHdoridi  von  Bcfy), 

its  rtlstton  to  Hi 

Swim  ConfMwratloi^  nB  ovty 

Swin.  revohmm  Eoom^  tkt^  j69-ta> 

tword^Brothcn  of  thib  |ii* 
_yiMtwbai«    3S4- 

the,  Sis-ttf^ 


•I 
•  It 


TuOlilOl^     lloliMBUUi    ftllglOBO ,    --,^- 

Tvtan.  in  Eoropo»  51^17* 

TiMiOk  ToniwtOb  Ittum  pod^  sa4,  S4t- 


Tkuler*   Jm?  ^    .^       .^ 

Tmicn,  Hinii  Doiriwi  rofonBCft 


Ghman   ■qrode^    1681 


Tdedok  Bcrniirdinow  Italiui 

TtoeM,  St.,  SmdMi  myBtic.  335* 
Tetsel,  John,  teller  of  mdoiccncet,  sa6, 

228. 

Teutonic    Order,    238,    3x0-11. 

Theatins,   monastic   order.   310. 

Thsene,  Gaetano  de,  Italian  Catholk  re- 
former, 310. 

Third   Estate,   effect  of  its  adTcnt,   S4- 

Thou,  jacqaes  de,  French  historian,  539. 
Thought,  the  growth  of  free,  355-58* 


Timur,  or  Tamerlane,   37,    178. 
Tintoretto  (Jacopo  Robusti),  524 
Titian     (Tiziano    Vecellio,    or 
Venetian   painter,  388-89. 

»f,  Proh 


Toggenburg,  the'ralley  of.  Protestantism 
in,   278. 

Tolerance,  relinous,  the  rise  of,  358-65. 

Torgau  Book,  The,  507* 

Torquemada,  Thomia  de,  Spanish  inquis- 
itor, 333. 

Toscanelli,  raolo,  Italian  geographer  and 
(»rt(M[rapher^  x8i. 

Toulouse,  University  of,  53^^  .,    . 

Tournon,  Francois  de.  Cardinal  and 
mmister  of  Francis  I,  287. 

Tradition,  Catholic  doctrine  of,  433. 

Transylvania,  3«,  399,  5x^-X2: 
rapezuntios     (George     of     TreUsond), 
Georgius,   Greek  teacher  in  Italy, 
90. 
Trastamara,    House    of,   47-48. 
Traversari,     Ambrogio,     Italian     human- 
ist,  94. 
TroBt,  Council  of,  ita  atimmnna  bf  PSaol 


jbdhMSliG^ 


»    *■■•    OBBHOOH    Ot 

fl^S  tiMir         ' 


rs%«: 


TwHfO   Aftifilu  of   tho 
Aynnit  JroBim  qc^  jftmc 


•-f  L«t  ^.  ^Mtt  of  Ike 


untofwaldoOt  SvIm  < 
offsiiip  in  tin 


tioii»  .o«f ;   Hi  chMctcr,   070s  ili 
part   in   the   fint   S^ 


Urban  ^\^£Sltt 


maud  de  Beauvoir),  Pope,   11 

VI  (Bartoloauneo   PrisBano)* 

VII  (GioTanni    Battistn 


Pope^  504. 

Uihino,  as  a  center  of  cahnre^  101,  378. 
FredericlL  Duke  of,   103. 
Guidobaloo,   Duke  of,   103. 
Uri»  SwisB  canton  of.  iia  naemberakip  in 

the    original    ConladeratioB,    260; 

ita  character,  ayo;  ita  port  in  the 

first;  Swiss  religiona  war,  273-74. 
Utopia,  204-05. 
Utrecht  Union  of  (iS79)f  483. 

Vadianoa    (Joachim   ran   W«tt)»    Swin 

humanist^   277-78. 
Valais,  district  of,  ayi. 
Valda,     Alfono,     SpMish 

333-36. 
Joan,  aa  a  Spanish 

as  a  heretic^  Sf^S"^  3*7* 

338. 
Valera,  Cipriano  de^  SpaoWi 

Valero,   nodrii^   da^   Spansn 

Valla,    Lorenso,   Mi  wofk  la    hialetfcnl 

MHcimnar  oc  tuonFtmammnttntt^ 
33^ 


»Mks 


^   ■" 


..   o   ^■■ 


■:  \ 


'^  -I  •« 


?n»  t*« 


^g^ 


«4 


mifn 


DEC   -  1  W3 


'^  """^Stanfom  Unlversny  Ubrary 

fBVriB  Stanford,  California 

FEB     2  1969 

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