THE LIFE AND CHARACTER
OP
ERASMUS.
BY THE
REV. ARTHUR ROBERT PENNISTGTON, M.A.,
RECTOR OF UTTERBY, LINCOLNSHIRE.
WITH A PBEFACE BY THE
RIGHT REV. THE LORD BISHOP OF LINCOLN
REGIS
BTBL. MAJ.
COLLEGE *
SEELEY, JACKSON & HALLIDAY, 54, FLEET STREET,
LONDON, MDCCCLXXY.
85301
PKEFACE.
WHEN the author of this volume whose public ser
vices in the diocese of Lincoln are entitled to grateful
recognition requested me to write a short Preface to
it, I was unwilling, though with little leisure at com
mand, to decline the invitation, from regard to the
subject, and to the writer.
Erasmus was one of the principal instruments em
ployed by divine Providence, for conferring great bene
fits, intellectual, moral, and spiritual, on human society;
and the study of his life inspires feelings of thankful
ness, while it supplies lessons of instruction, which are
especially seasonable at the present time.
The capture of Constantinople by the Turks, and
the dissolution of the Eastern Empire, were calamities
which Europe regarded with dismay. But the evil
was overruled for good. Greek teachers emigrated
from the Eastern capital. The Learning and Literature
of Greece were driven westward by the tide of bar
barism and unbelief ; and being aided by the discovery
IV PREFACE.
of Printing, were made ministerial to the revival of
Letters, and to the Reformation of the Church.
Erasmus, born in Holland, at Rotterdam, in 1467,
and educated at Deventer where he was a school
fellow of a future Pope, Adrian VI. felt the influence
of these events. Many years elapsed before he mas
tered the Greek language, but by dint of severe study,
especially at Oxford and Cambridge, he became quali
fied to bestow one of the greatest blessings on the world
that it received for fifteen hundred years. He published
the first edition of the Greek Testament, at the print
ing press of Froben, at Basle, in the year of our Lord.
1516.
In other respects also, circumstances, seemingly un
favourable to Christianity, were made conducive to its
rapid diffusion. The continuation of the use of the
Latin language in the public services of the Church
was doubtless in many respects a spiritual evil. But
this also was controlled for good. It preserved Latin
from becoming a dead language, at least among well-
educated men, and it made Latin to be, in a certain
sense, universal.
Erasmus was an enterprising traveller ; he was a
citizen of the world ; he resided at Louvain, Padua,
Florence, Rome, Paris, and Basle. He spent much time
in England ; he knew no modern language except his
own, in which few foreigners could converse with him,
but he was everywhere at home. He came to Oxford
with letters of introduction to Charnock, Prior of the
Augustinians, in the College of St. Mary, in 1497, and
soon after his arrival received a Latin letter from John
Colet, afterwards Dean of St. Paul s, then at Oxford,
PREFACE. V
and wrote a reply to him in the same language. This
was the beginning of a long friendship, happy and use
ful to both, and to the world.
The same may be said of the intercourse of Erasmus
with the dear friend of Dean Colet, Sir Thomas More,
and with his predecessor in the chancellorship, Cardinal
Wolsey, and Archbishop Warham, and their royal
master, Henry the Eighth. If Europe had not then
possessed a common language for learned men, it is
probable that some of the best friendships would never
have been formed, and the light of pure and primitive
Christianity would not have been rekindled, and dif
fused so rapidly throughout the world.
At the present time we speak of the publication of
numerous successive editions of a contemporary bro
chure as a remarkable event : the circulation, however,
of the author s original words is limited to a narrow
range. But how different was the case even in the
earlier part of the sixteenth century. The " Moriai
Encomium 1 (or "Praise of Folly ") of Erasmus, and
afterwards his " Colloquies" might be called religious
and political essays or pamphlets, and were dissemi
nated everywhere by thousands of copies, and were
eagerly read by popes and cardinals, kings, princes,
and statesmen, bishops, abbots, and clergy secular and
regular, and by judges, civilians, canonists, and magis
trates, and many other laymen, and also by fair ladies
in all parts of Europe, and their influence was propor
tioned to their diffusion.
Some religious meetings of learned and pious men
of different churches and countries have lately been
held ; and there is reason to hope that conferences of
VI PKEFACE.
this kind may become more frequent, and be conducive
to the advancement of Christian truth and Christian
peace.
Would it not be worth while to consider whether
one common language especially Latin, with the
same pronunciation might not be adopted with ad
vantage at such consultations as these ? Would not
this be better than that the members of a Conference
should speak in their own tongue, and that the rest
should wait for an oral translation of what had been
said?
The services of Erasmus in editing the works of
ancient Fathers of the Church, especially St. Jerome,
and of Latin translations of portions of St. Athanasius,
St. Chrysostom, and St. Basil, claim thankful com
memoration. His patristic studies prepared and quali
fied him for the execution of a great work which was
recommended to general acceptance by the depth and
variety of its learning, by the tolerant moderation of
its temper, and by the gracefulness and terseness of its
language his Paraphrase of the New Testament.
This was translated into English by Nicolas TJdal,
Master of Eton College, and every parish in England
was required by the royal authority of Edward YI.
and Queen Elizabeth to procure a copy of it for general
access in the parish church.
No one can say how much the English Church and
Nation have been indebted from that time to this day
to the benefits thus conferred upon them by the
learned scholar of Rotterdam.
Erasmus was not a Luther ; and Luther was not an
Erasmus. The one was a complement of the other.
PKEFACE. Vli
Their differences are brought out sharply and clearly in
the epistolary correspondence between them. If Eras
mus had displayed in his writings the vehement indig
nation of the great German Reformer, his Paraphrase of
the New Testament would not have met with the
general acceptance it enjoyed. None of Luther s
works attained equal celebrity. But if Luther had
been an Erasmus, some of the worst corruptions of
the papacy would have escaped unscathed. Each of
the two had his special mission ; and so far as that
mission was a holy one, let the Giver of all Good
l>e praised.
We who live now may learn much from them both.
Erasmus, like Dante, Petrarch, and Boccaccio in Italy,
aid like the author of " Piers Ploughman s Vision,"*
aid Chaucer in the fourteenth century, and like our
Colet in the fifteenth and sixteenth, desired to see a
Information of the Church within the Church, and
proceeding from the Church. The Reformation which
he wished for, and which Colet advocated in his cele-
Irated sermon preached before the English Convoca-
ton at St. Paul s, in 1511, was rather a Reformation of
nannersj of bishops, clergy, and people, than of doc-
t ines. Not that any of these illustrious men had the
tightest sympathy with those dogmas which are now
iiade the foundation of the Romish system, especially
that of the personal Infallibility of the Roman Pontiff,
md the Immaculate Conception of the Blessed Virgin
Hary. Erasmus clung tenaciously to the authority of
the Church, but not to that of the Pope. He freely
* The author of Piers Ploughman s Creed is more anti-
logmatic.
Vlll PREFACE.
satirized the licentious Alexander VI., Borgia, and the
bellicose Julius II., and in his "Axioms" communicated
to Spalatinus, and probably through him to the Elector
Frederick of Saxony, he did not hesitate to censure
Pope Leo X. s bull, condemnatory of Luther, as
" offensive to all good men ;" and he even went so far
as to suggest the abolition of the festival of the Con
ception of the Blessed Virgin.* But he hoped that "by
the circulation and study of the Holy Scriptures, and
by the reading of the writings of the Christian fathers,
and by the discipline of such schools as his learned
friend Colet, Dean of St. Paul s, had founded and
munificently endowed (and for which Erasmus pro*
vided religious exercises of devotion), and by the indi
rect influence of classical literature and elegant schor
larship, and by his own sportive pasquinades anl
satirical raillery on religious pilgrimages, such as thai
to the shrine of St. Mary of Walsingham, and Si
Thomas of Canterbury, and on other abuses which lit
exposed to ridicule with the caustic wit of a Rabelais
many of the worst corruptions and errors of Romanism
which he regarded as due to ignorance and barbarism
and to the influence of scholastic theology, would grad
ually and quietly melt away and disappear.
But the spirit of Wicklifte had revived in Marti
Luther, and he, with others like him, were eager for im
mediate results, and boldly attacked dogmas which lay
at the root of these practices. Doubtless in so doinc
Luther assailed some things that might have been
* See his interesting discourse " De Amabili Ecclesise Con
cordia," written only three years before his death, in Browne ;
** Fasciculus Kerum Expetendarum," vol. i. p. 462.
PREFACE. IX
spared, and spared others that might have been
assailed.*
Erasmus sacrificed truth to a love of unity. Luther
sacrificed unity to a love of truth. Who can say
whether both truth and unity might not have been
preserved ?
In its hatred of the Papacy Germany lost episcopacy.
She forfeited that form of ecclesiastical government
which had been continued in the Church from the
time of the Apostles for 1500 years. The consequences
of this loss are now manifest to all. St. Jerome never
said a wiser thing than that there is " no schism which
does not generate a heresy;" and Tertullian said no less
truly that when a disruption takes place, and conflict
ing sects split off from the Church, their only term of
communion among themselves is discord, their only
" unity is in schism ;" and the consequences are seen,
not only in bitter religious strife, but in civil turmoils
and confusion.
Let us not, however, take on ourselves to censure
either of those great men, Erasmus and Luther, but let
us learn wisdom from both.
The study of their history and of that of their con
temporaries has a special interest for the "old Catho
lics " of Germany, Holland, Switzerland, and Italy at
the present time, and for all who sympathize with
them in their noble endeavour to reform the Church
by an appeal to Holy Scripture and to primitive Chris-
* Luther s reckless dictum concerning the Epistle of St.
James is one of the specimens of that arbitrary self-dogmatism
and lawlessness of private opinion which unhappily marred and
damaged his work.
X PREFACE.
ticin antiquity. It is fraught with solemn warnings
and salutary instruction to them and to ourselves.
A great conflict is at hand, which will probably be
more violent that that of the sixteenth century. Two
forms of anti-Christianism are rising in Europe ; an
tagonistic to each other, and driving each other by an
excess of reaction to more dangerous extremes, both
hostile to the truth and to unity in Church and State;
both tending to confusion in doctrine, discipline, and
civil polity, Ultramontanism on the one side, and
Unbelief on the other. The country of Luther is the
battle-field of this struggle. The fatherland of Eras
mus is also concerned in it. Germany and Holland
have felt also the effects of the counter-movement of
" old Catholicism" begun at Munich, and continued at
Cologne, Fribourg, and Bonn.
The conflict of Ultramontanism and Unbelief will
probably extend throughout Europe and the world.
Sounds of its approach are heard among ourselves.
How . shall we meet it ? History testifies that a
well-organized Ultramontanism can never be effectually
counteracted by a sceptical Secularism, or by a revo
lutionary Kationalism. Neither of these will save the
civil and ecclesiastical institutions of a country. They
create nothing ; they construct nothing ; they con
serve nothing. They are only potent and very ener
getic they are in destruction. Nor will a discordant
Sectarianism, or a creedless Erastianism the one dis
tracting the Church, the other seeking to tyrannize
over it preserve a state from disruption. The con
flicts of the seventeenth century in England, when
PREFACE. X
Sectarianism and Erastianism had full scope, warn us
of this.
Aerius and Erastus are, in fact, the best allies of
Hildebrand, because they weaken the Christian Church,
which is the only safeguard against the schisms and
heresies of Rome, and against her temporal and spirit
ual domination. Our only hope of security and success
against the two tremendous powers, Ultramontanism
and Infidelity, which are marshalled against each
other, and are now threatening to overwhelm the world
in anarchy and ruin, is in reading carefully the history
of the past, and in learning the lessons, such as are
contained in the present volume, which it teaches,
that the security of churches, monarchies, and states
depends on obedience to the Will and Word of God,
and on the maintenance of that sound form of Evan
gelical and Catholic doctrine, and Apostolical form of
Church government, which is contained in the Holy
Scriptures, and which was received by the primitive
Church, and which was cleared from corruptions at the
English Reformation in the sixteenth century by wise,
learned, and holy men, who, under the guidance of the
Holy Spirit, steered a middle course between the tem
porizing moderation of an Erasmus and the rash
courage of a Luther ; and while they waged war
against Error were not guilty of schism, but contended
manfully for the Faith, while they steadfastly main
tained the unity of the Church.
C. LINCOLN.
Kiseholme, Lincoln,
Monday before Advent, 1874.
THE writer wishes to add the following observations.
Xll PREFACE.
He undertook the work for the purpose of supplying
the want of a Life of Erasmus in a volume of moderate
size in our own language. Knight s " Life," and
Jortin s " Life," both published in the last century, are
unsatisfactory; the former for several, reasons, but
for this reason in particular, that the author con
fines himself almost entirely to the connections of
Erasmus in England ; and the latter, because it is long
and discursive, and has not the least pretensions to
arrangement. Besides, these books are to be found
only in old libraries, and are not available for the
general reader. The only complete Life in English
since Jortin s and Knight s time, before last year, is
that of Butler, which is very far from conveying
to the reader all which ought to be known in re
gard to Erasmus. Mr. Seebohm in his " Oxford Re
formers," published a few years ago, relates only a part
of the Life ; and Dean Milman in his Essay, originally
published as an article in the " Quarterly Review," as
well as Mr. Froude, in his " Short Studies on Great
Subjects," have given only rapid, though lively sketches
of this distinguished man. In foreign languages, there-
are " Lives of Erasmus," which Dean Milman has well
described.
When the Memoir was for the most part compiled,
Mr. Drummond s " Life " made its appearance. This
fact is mentioned to show that the writer has not
borrowed from him the details which are now brought
before the public. On some important points he differs
from Mr. Drummond ; and feels especially that his
work does not bring forward all the lessons to which
attention is called in the following pages.
PKEFACE. Xlll
Circumstances have occurred which have delayed
the publication to the present time.
It only remains to say that the editions of Erasmus s
works referred to in the pages of the following Life,
as " edit. Bas." and " edit. Lugd.," are the Basle edition
of 154)0, and the Leyden edition of 1703.
ARTHUR K. PENNINGTON.
Utterby Rectory,
Tuesday before Advent, 1874.
CONTENTS.
CHAPTER PAGE
I. INTRODUCTORY ... ... ... ... 1
II. BIRTH. EDUCATION. EARLY YEARS. FIRST VISIT
TO ENGLAND. (A.D. 14671500) ... ... 12
III. RETURN TO THE CONTINENT. JOHN VITRARIUS.
THE "ADADGES." THE "ENCHIRIDION." (A.D. 1500
1505) 43
IV. SECOND VISIT TO ENGLAND. JOURNEY TO ITALY.
DESCRIPTION OF GERMAN INNS. RETURN TO
ENGLAND. THE " PRAISE OF FOLLY." (A.D. 1505
1510) ... ... ... ... ... 63
V. INTERCOURSE WITH THE ROYAL FAMILY OF ENG
LAND. RESIDENCE AT CAMBRIDGE. ACCOUNT OF
HIS VISITS TO WALSINGHAM AND CANTERBURY
IN HIS COLLOQUY, " PEREGRINATIO RELIGIONIS
ERGO." (A.D. 15101514) ... ... ... 103
VI. JOURNEY TO BASLE FOR THE PRINTING OF THE
NEW TESTAMENT AND ST. JEROME. MISTAKEN
ESTIMATE OF POPE LEO. REASONS FOR ABANDON
ING THE IDEA OF SETTLING IN ENGLAND. CHA
RACTER AND OPINIONS OF MORE AND COLET.
(A.D. 15141516) ... 143
CONTENTS.
CHAPTER
PAO K
vii. HIS "GREEK TESTAMENT." (A.D. 1516) ... ... 172
Till. THE VIEWS AND CONDUCT OF ERASMUS IN REGARD
TO THE REFORMATION, AND THE MANNER IN
WHICH HE AIDED ITS PROGRESS. (A.D. 1517
1519) ............... 190
IX. GRADUAL ALIENATION FROM THE REFORMERS.
TREATISE ON FREE-WILL, AND " COLLOQUIES."-
(A.D. 15191524) ... ... ... ... 231
X. THE REVOLT OF THE PEASANTS. WORLDLY MOTIVES
OF ERASMUS. HIS INCOME. OPPOSITION TO HIM
IN FRANCE. TREATISE ON MATRIMONY DEDICATED
TO QUEEN CATHERINE, AND OTHER WORKS. (A.D.
1524-1526) ............ 281
XI. ERASMUS AT ENMITY WITH THE REFORMERS. HIS
LOVE OF FAME. CONTINUED OPPOSITION OF THE
MONKS. HIS " CICERONIANUS." - - DEPARTURE
FROM BASLE TO FRIBURG. LOUIS DE BERQUIN.
(A.D. 15261530) ... ... ... ... 307
XII. LOSS OF FRIENDS BY DEATH. LAST YEARS. CHA
RACTER. (A.D. 15301536) ... ... ... 342
ERRATA.
"Page 2f>, last line, for " Hcyer," read " Heyen."
04, last note, for " Abbatc," r?ad " Abbati."
I lS, line 15 from top, If/ore " the Emperor Charles the Great," insert " Prince
Charles, afterwards."
,, 200, line 16 from bottom, ./or " covetuousness," read " covetousness. "
224, last line, for " many," read " Mary."
LIFE OF ERASMUS.
CHAPTEE I.
INTRODUCTORY.
THE life of Erasmus is, for various reasons, very interest
ing. He greatly contributed to prepare the way for the
Eeformation. " He was the man who," to use the words of
Bishop Stillingfleet,* " awakened men s understandings, and
brought them from the friars divinity to a relish of the
general learning. He, by his wit, laughed down the impe
rious ignorance of the monks, and made them the scorn of
Christendom ; and by his learning he brought most of the
Latin fathers to light, and published them with exact edi
tions, and with useful notes, by which means men of parts
set themselves to consider the ancient church from the writ
ings of the fathers themselves, and not from the canonists
and schoolmen, so that the most learned and impartial men
were prepared for the doctrines of the Reformation before it
broke forth." And in another place the Bishop says, " There
was not one Greek Testament to be found in all Germany till
* "Discourse concerning the Idolatry practised in the Church of
Home, &c," London, 1071.
1
2 HIS LEARNING.
Erasmus printed it with notes, which infinitely took among
all pious and learned men, and as much enraged the monks
and friars, and all the fast friends to their dulness and su
perstition." He adds, " In order to prevent the extrava
gancies of the people in the interpretation of Scripture, his
most exact paraphrase was set up in our churches." Thus
we in this country, as we shall see in a future chapter, have
a special interest in him. By promoting the study of the
Scriptures, this work aided the progress of the Reformation.
Erasmus was the most learned man of his time in
Europe. He has been justly called the envy of his own
age, the wonder of all succeeding ages. He was gifted
with mental faculties of the highest order, which
had been greatly improved by diligent application. His
industry was so great, that notwithstanding the want of
books, his great poverty, the want of masters who were
qualified to instruct him, and an infirm constitution which
must have hindered him greatly in the attainment of his
object, he rose to a proud pre-eminence above the common
herd of his fellow-creatures, and secured for himself a high
place in the Temple of Fame. To himself he owed almost
all his knowledge of the Greek and Latin languages. In
the latter all his works were written. His memory was so
retentive, that at the age of thirteen he knew the whole of
Horace and Terence by heart. He was " the observed of
all observers." As we shall see in the following life, he held
constant correspondence with princes, nobles, and others,
who endeavoured to induce him to make their country the
land of his adoption, and to take up his abode permanently
among them. Learned men flocked to him from all parts
of Europe. We are told that Albert, Archbishop of Maintz,
was greatly afflicted because he was not likely to see him
before his death. * As many pilgrimages were made to
* Knight s Life, p. 320.
PREFERENCE FOR ENGLAND. 3
Erasmus during his lifetime as to the shrines of any of
those canonized saints whom the Church of Rome has em
balmed with her praises, and has taught her followers to
regard with superstitious reverence.
We, in this country, ought to feel the greatest interest in
Erasmus, because he preferred our country to any other, and
because he laboured successfully for the advancement of
polite learning in England, during the many years which
he passed among us. We shall find, in the following life,
that he considered that a filial bond united him to the soil
of Great Britain. Writing to an English friend, Robert
Fisher, with whom he became acquainted at Paris, and who
was at that time travelling in Italy, he speaks in the highest
terms, not only of the fertility of the soil and the salubrity
of the climate, but also of the learning and refinement of the
inhabitants. " In a letter to Archbishop Warham, he says
" that in England are many masters of the learned languages,
and such universal scholars as are worthy of the admiration
of Italy. "t In an epistle to his friend Ammonius, he ex
presses much indignation against Holland, because it valued
him so little when all other countries were uniting to do him
honour. J Writing to a friend going to England, he says
that he infinitely prefers our country to his own. He thus
continues : " It is something to have seen Britain, celebrated
as the home of men who are conversant with every branch
of learning. You will find, also, that intercourse with so
many remarkable for their erudition will tend greatly to
the refinement of your manners and the enlargement of your
knowledge. You must, however, always behave yourself
modestly, and not be too free in expressing your dislike of
anything which you may see in that country. For the
* Eras., Op., torn. iii. p. 218, edit. Bas. t Knight s Life, p. 120.
+ Hoc me male habet, Italos, Hispanos, Getas, Daiios, candidiores
experior in me quam meos. Op., torn. iii. p. 301, edit. Bas.
Op., torn. iii. p. 930. edit. Bas.
12
INTEREST ATTACHING TO HIS ERA.
English people are, not without reason, lovers of their native
land. Some travellers are so rude as to find fault with
everything which is different from the usage of their own
country; not considering that music, though very exquisite, .
may not be pleasing to the ear which is not accustomed to
it. In receiving or refusing gifts, which, as the inhabitants
are very liberal, they are sure to offer, be very careful. If
any should be offered by real friends, accept them, and ex
press your gratitude for them ; if by those who are insincere
in their professions of friendship, politely decline them.
For it is more difficult to do the latter in a becoming man
ner than the former." In a letter to Henry VIII.,* he says,
" I am not a native of Britain ; arid yet when I consider
how many years I have lived in that country, how many
patrons, how many excellent and sincere friends I owe to it,
how large a part of my fortune is to be found there, I have
as hearty a love and esteem for it as if I had drawn my first
breath in it." He met with the greatest encouragement in
England. The number of dedications of his works made to
Englishmen, affords us convincing evidence that he found
more patrons in our own than in any other country. Most
of his earliest and best works owed their origin to the sug
gestions and advice of many of the greatest men in England,
the names of some of whom fill a large space in our national
annals, t
The era in which Erasmus lived is no less interesting than
the individual himself. His life commences about the time
of the revival of learning, and extends beyond the dawn of
the Reformation. The abuses and corruptions of the Church
of Rome were at this time greatly intensified. A cry for
deliverance, as loud as that which rang through the pagan
world shortly before the coming of Christ, ascended from a
* Op., torn. iii. p. 250, edit. Bas.
t Knight s Life, Introduction, p. 2G.
EFFECTS OF THE REVIVAL OF LEARNING. O
groaning and travailing creation. We witness also an uni
versal fermentation in the regions of thought. A bold spirit
of inquiry was now abroad among the nations of Europe.
No doubt] the examination of the treasures of ancient learn
ing which, in consequence of the fall of Constantinople, were
conveyed to Europe, was a most important means of pro
moting that spirit. For the effect of the study of the im
mortal writers of antiquity was, that the human mind was
aroused from the slumber of ages, and, in the full conscious
ness of new-born vigour, pushed its inquiries into, and laid
bare, that vast system of error which the Roman Catholic
Church had imposed upon Christendom. But, above all,
the effect of the revival of Greek literature was that the
meaning of the text of the New Testament was brought
within the comprehension of the more intelligent part of the
community. Thus they were enabled to see that Rome had
corrupted and mutilated the faith once delivered to the
saints.
The Greeks had, long before the fall of Constantinople,
prided themselves on their great intellectual superiority to
the barbarians of the West. They boasted that they pos
sessed the works of those masters of poetry, eloquence, and
philosophy, who have erected for themselves in them, a monu
ment more durable than brass or marble. But we believe
that they were unable to appreciate those productions of
ancient genius. Their superiority seems to have arisen from
their use of Greek as a living language. They possessed
the golden key which unlocked the exquisitely wrought
cabinet. They had written numerous treatises on etymology
and syntax. But the truth must be told, that the Greeks
were a stationary or degenerate nation. The present race
were unworthy sons of those heroes who had performed pro
digies of valour in the pass of Thermopylae or on the plain
of Marathon, of those mighty monarchs who have moulded
G ADVANCE OF THE LATIN WORLD.
the taste and genius of mankind through every succeeding
age of the world s history.
The Latin world had, in the fifteenth century, woke up
from the sleep of ages, and was advancing with great ra
pidity. The lower orders had been delivered from that
feudal bondage which palsied their energies, and had ob
tained that liberty which was their inalienable birthright.
.The happy result was that they soared aloft into the regions
of fancy, and even grappled with those difficult questions
which perplex the reason, and stagger the faith of mankind
in the course of their earthly probation. The various uni
versities were peopled with students, who applied them
selves with ardour to the pursuit of literature, or the inves
tigation of truth. The Arabians had already contributed
to the advancement of scientific inquiry. We find that a
love for science wasvdiffused through the length and breadth
of the territory in which Mahomedanism bore rule. The
Ommiades of Spain, who reigned above 250 years from the
Atlantic to the Pyrenees, are especially commended for
their patronage of learning. They had formed a library of
600,000 volumes, forty-four of which were employed in
catalogues.
We are informed that Cordova gave birth to three hun
dred writers, and |that seventy libraries were opened in
Andalusia. The sun of literature poured a flood of light
over those chosen regions, while the other parts of Europe
were involved in a worse than Egyptian darkness. The
learned Gerbert, who on his elevation to the pontificate, in
the year 999, assumed the title of Sylvester II., seems to
have derived from the Arabian doctors in Spain a large part
of that extensive and profound learning which has rendered
his name illustrious.* We are informed that he spent some
time in receiving lessons from the Arabian professors in tho
* Moslieim s "Church Hist.," Cent. 10, part ii. c. i. s. 7, S.
ARABIAN LEARNING. <
seminaries of learning at Seville and Cordova. He not
only studied himself physic, mathematics, and philosophy,
but also encouraged others in Germany, France, and Italy
to follow his example. Thus, those who were anxious to
excel in arithmetic, geometry, and astronomy, repaired to
the Spanish universities in order that they might be in
structed by those sages who were renowned throughout the
world for their knowledge of the mysteries of science.
This age of Arabian learning seems to have been continued
from the middle of the eighth to the close of the thirteenth
century.* Then the Arabian ceased to give laws to the
republic of letters. If he had continued much longer his
patronage of them, the vast resources furnished by printing,
paper-making, and the mariner s compass, would have been
at his disposal, and would have greatly aided the advance
ment of Mahomedanism. But having, by his cultivation of
learning, prepared Europe for the Reformation, he ceased
to be in a position to make use of these improvements
which subsequently became the auxiliaries of the Church,
and served greatly to promote her onward march through
the length and breadth of the world.
But now the Greeks were to play an important part in
this new intellectual era. Even as early as the thirteenth
century the sun of Greek literature had risen above the ho
rizon, and was illumining with a ruddy glow the summit of
the Western hills. t In the fourteenth century the illustri
ous Petrarch laboured most energetically to emancipate the
mind of man from its thraldom. He endeavoured to roll
back the mists of ages, and to kindle in the minds of his.
fellow-countrymen an admiration for those stars of dazzling
* The Arabian writers date the origin of their literature from the
reign of Almanzor, A.D. 758. (Gibbon, c. lii.)
For interesting details on Saracen literature see Mill s "History
of Mahomedanism," c. vi. ; and Turner s "History of England," vol. i.
t Smyth s " Lectures on Modern History," c. ix.
PETRARCH S LITERARY LABOURS.
brightness, which, more than a thousand years before, had
glittered in the literary firmament of Italy. It was with
him pre-eminently a labour of love. In the prosecution of
his object he encountered various difficulties, which only
steadfast resolution, and the extraordinary genius with
which he was gifted, enabled him to overcome. The most
valued works of the ancients were scattered in convents,
and were altogether unprovided with tables of contents
and marginal notes. The attempt, therefore, before the in
vention of printing, to collect and arrange them, must have
been attended with the greatest difficulty, especially when
it was necessary to correct the errors of the copyists, and
to supply, by comparing one manuscript with another, the
chasms which existed in a particular work.* The happy
result was that the Latinity of his contemporaries was re
markable for all that purity and elegance for which the
Augustan era, the golden age of classical literature, was
pre-eminently distinguished.
Through the careful study of the immortal works of the
ancient authors, the minds of men began to glow with all
those generous and lofty emotions for which the old Romans
were conspicuous. Those ancient worthies seemed to have
their proper representatives. A tribune, breathing the
spirit of a Gracchus, strove to animate his fellow-citizens
against the nobles who oppressed them ; and an orator,
with all the eloquence of a Cicero, exhorted them to bid a
truce to their deadly feuds, and to unite in delivering Italy
from those lawless hordes, which, " like a hideous deluge
gathered in strange lands," rushing with fearful violence,
had rolled with desolating fury over the fertile plains of
Ms native country, t
* Sismondi s "Literature of Modern Europe."
t Simpson s "Literature of Italy," p. 157. See also Petrarch s
stirring appeal to the nobles of Italy, urging them to deliver it from
the yoke of slavery.
IGNORANCE OF GREEK IN EUROPE.
But though Petrarch was quite prepared to appreciate the
"beauties of the poets, orators, -and historians of ancient
Greece, still, from his ignorance of the language, he could
only enjoy them through the imperfect medium of a trans
lation. With the assistance of Barlaam, who came on an
embassy to Avignon respecting the union of the Greek and
Latin Churches, he acquired some knowledge of the rudi
ments of the Greek language. But when he was fifty years
of age, he confessed that he knew little comparatively of
it, for when Barlaam presented to him a copy of Homer, he
told him that he wanted his assistance to disclose to him
the wonders of the Iliad and Odyssey.*
When Barlaam came to Italy about the middle of the
fourteenth century, Petrarch informs us that the barbarians,
i.e., the French and Germans, had not even heard the name
of the immortal bard of antiquity.t To Boccaccio more par
ticularly belongs the merit of having fanned into a flame
the glowing embers. With the aid of Leo, a disciple of
Barlaam, he composed a literal prose translation of the Iliad
and Odyssey. But during his lifetime only ten votaries of
Homer could be found in the whole of Italy. In the fol
lowing thirty years, that is from 1370 to 1400, the sun of
Greek literature was shorn of his beams. The Italians,
during that period, forgot the rudiments of the Greek lan
guage.
But now, at the end of the fourteenth century, the sun,
never again to be eclipsed, began to pour a flood of light
over the i nations of Europe. A distinguished scholar,
Manuel Chrysoloras, was despatched by the Emperor
Manuel to press the monarchs of Europe to hasten to
the rescue of Constantinople from the infidel. He was in-
* Gibbon s "History of the Decline and Fall of the IJoman Em
pire," c. Ixvi.
t Ii barbari vix non dicam libros, sed nonien Horneri audiverunt.
10 STUDY OF GREEK IN EUROPE.
vitetl by the Florentine republic to assume the office of
professor. "We are informed that the Italians flocked to
his lectures. He afterwards gave instruction in the Greek
language in other parts of Italy, and was greatly instru
mental in promoting the study of the immortal writers of
antiquity. A multitude of scholars, of whom the most
illustrious were Bessarion, Theodore Gaza, and John Ar-
gyropylos, trod in the footsteps of Chrysoloras. Their
foes, like the monarchs of the wood, bristling up their
shaggy manes, were standing in gloomy circles round the
city of their fathers. Already they heard their savage yells,
and the crashing of the boughs, as they were springing
fiercely from their lair, eager to slake their thirst for blood
in the red stream issuing from the mangled bodies of their
fellow-countrymen assembled within the walls of Constanti
nople. Fear of these impending horrors hastened their
departure from the city. Each of them snatched some
manuscripts from the Byzantine libraries, and hastened with
his precious treasures over the ocean to a country where,
undisturbed by the alarms of war, they might devote all
their energies to the prosecution of their studies.
These men aided to keep alive that flame which was now
beginning to glow upon the hearths and altars of Italy.
The Italians laboured with equal ardour for the promotion
of the same object. Amongst them we may mention parti
cularly Nicholas V., who became pope in 1447. He raised
himself, by his learning, to the highest dignity attainable
by a member of the Church of Rome. After his elevation,
he became the patron, as he was before the friend, of the
numerous learned men who were scattered through Italy.
As we have already seen in the case of Pope Gerbert, by
his patronage of letters, he inflicted a severe injury on his
spiritual mother. He sought for books in every part of
Christendom. To him the learned world is indebted for
INFLUENCE OF ERASMUS. 11
versions of the Greek historians, of the Iliad and Odyssey,
and of the most valuable works of Plato and Aristotle.
Lorenzo de Medici won for himself a high place in the re
public of letters. He sought eagerly for manuscripts of the
Greek authors, and was never wearied with dwelling on the
beauties contained in the pages which the Greek emigrants
unfolded to his astonished and delighted view. The whole
of Italy was animated by a similar spirit. These pupils
were soon capable of transferring to other nations the
knowledge which they had acquired for themselves.
Erasmus was one of those who, as we shall see hereafter,
in this manner gained a knowledge of the Greek language
and literature. He afterwards became the chief means of
promoting that converse with the immortal writers of an
tiquity which served to purify the taste, to invigorate the
fancy, and to elevate the genius of the inhabitants of
Europe. But above all he became, by the publication of
his edition of the Xew Testament, the instrument in God s
hands of disseminating a knowledge of those great and
glorious truths, the proclamation of which was the means
of delivering the nations of Europe from their spiritual
bondage.
PARENTS AND BIRTH.
CHAPTER II.
BIRTH EDUCATION EARLY YEARS FIRST VISIT TO
ENGLAND (A.D. 1467 1500).
WE have no difficulty in fixing the birth-place of the illus
trious Erasmus, as he assumed it for his surname. He was
born in Eotterdam, on October 28th, 14G7. His father
Gerard, of the town of Gouda (Tergau), in Holland, a man
of much wit and vivacity, fell in love with Margaret, the
daughter of Peter, a physician of Sevenbergen, by whom,
after the most solemn promises to each other that they would
marry, he had two sons, one of whom is the subject of our
present memoir. His relations, who were anxious to sepa
rate him from Margaret, and to make him a monk, thinking
that they ought to offer one son to God, compelled him, by
ill usage, to leave his native town, about two years after the
birth of his first son. He then went to Rome, where, as he
was a good scholar, he gained a livelihood by transcribing
ancient authors. While he was engaged in this occupation,
they sent him word that she was dead. Thereupon, in an
agony of grief, he took upon himself that irrevocable vow
which separated him for ever from married life. Returning
soon afterwards, he discovered the deceit which had been
practised upon him. He now heard that he was again a
father, and saw for the first time, the offspring of his
EDUCATION. 13
guilty passion for the equally guilty Margaret. She deter
mined that she would never marry another man, and he
remained faithful to his sacerdotal vows.
The original name of this son was Gerard. In conformity,
however, with the pedantic taste prevailing among men of
letters in those days, of assuming names of Greek or Latin
etymology, he translated that name, signifying in Dutch
the Beloved, into the equivalent names of Desiderius in
Latin, and Erasmus in Greek. He used both of them,
but the latter was his common appellation. He added to
them Roterodamus, from the place of his birth. Gerard
resolved, as he saw in his son an uncommon capacity, to
spare no expense in his education, which he was well
able to afford, as the pope had recently given to him
a benefice in his native country. Erasmus was sent,
when he was four years of age, to a school at Gouda,
kept by a certain Peter Winkel ; and soon afterwards,
having a good voice, was appointed chorister in the cathedral
of Utrecht. A notion prevails in Holland that he was at
first a dull, heavy boy. In support of it, a passage in his
writings is brought forward where he says that "in his
first years he made little progress in those unpleasant studies
for which he was not born ; in literis illis inamoenis quibus
nori natus erat." But, as Bayle observes, these "literse
inamoense," these unpleasant studies, must not be under
stood to apply to learning, but must be referred to want of
success in his musical exercises. He was sent, when he was.
nine years of age, to a very good school at Deventer, kept
by a religious brotherhood not bound by vows, of which
Alexander Hegius was the master. The latter had been
instructed in Greek and Latin by Rodolph Agricola, who
contributed more than any one else to the revival of classical
learning, particularly to the study of the Greek language in
Italy. A close intimacy existed between him and Hegius
14 HIS GUARDIANS.
Coming into the school-room during an examination of the
themes of the boys, he looked over that of Erasmus, who
was then in his twelfth year, and expressed his surprise at
the style, and at the invention and beauties which it dis
played. He complimented Erasmus upon them, and assured
him that, if he persevered, he would become a great man.
Sintheim, the sub-rector, who was his chief instructor, fore
told that he would rise to the highest pinnacle of letters.
He went through the usual course of logic, physics, meta
physics, and morals. His mother went to live at Deventer
that she might be near him. Here she died of the plague,
when Erasmus was thirteen years of age. Gerard, who was in
consolable for her loss, very soon followed her to the grave.
They were, neither of them, more than forty years of age.
it After the death of his parents for whose memory he
always entertained an affectionate regard he came under
the charge of three guardians appointed by his father. One
of them, a merchant, did not trouble himself much about
him. The second soon died of the plague. The third, his
iormer master, Peter Winkel, with the view of depriving him
of his little patrimony, and securing it for the Church, de
termined to compel him to enter a religious house. He was
sent first to an institution, Herzogensbusch (Bois-le-Duc),
where youths were trained to be monks. Here every effort
was made, but in vain, to induce him to become a regular.
The monks were ignorant, narrow-minded, and cruel. The
love of learning had been rapidly growing in him, but he
had no opportunity of gratifying it. The least breach of
discipline was often followed by a severe chastisement. The
flogging, once inflicted for an offence of which he was not
guilty, threw him into a fever for four days. This system
injured his health, and made him timid and suspicious. It
also gave him a horror of corporal punishment. After hav
ing continued here for two years, he returned to Gouda.
LETTEE TO GEUNNIUS. 15
Erasmus has described later in life the means employed
during this period to induce him to become a monk, which
were only too successful, in the following very interesting
letter to Grunnius, one of the scribes at the papal court, in
which, under the name of Florentius, he desires to be ab
solved by the pope from his monastic vows.* No doubt
the story is in the main told correctly. We are here in
formed , that he had a brother three years older than
.himself. We do not read of him in the earliest lives of
Erasmus. This letter, however, if, as is undoubtedly the
case, it contains the narrative of his earlier years, is con
clusive as to his existence. We shall see from it that he
was a very different person from his illustrious brother.
The translation of a part of the letter only is here given :
" There were two brothers Florentius, and an elder one,
Antonius. When they were only boys, they lost their
mother. Their father, dying soon after her, left a small
property, which would have been quite sufficient to enable
them to complete their education, if it had not been dimin
ished by the rapacity of the relations who were present at
his death. For not a farthing of the money which he had
.at that time was found. . . . What was secured to them by
deeds, and could not therefore be so easily touched by the
talons of the harpies, was, however, quite enough for their
instruction in the liberal arts, if a great part of it had not
been lost through the carelessness of their guardians. The
latter determined to train them for a monastery, thinking
that they had given a wonderful proof of their piety, if they
provided them with the means of subsistence. When they
were all only too ready to act thus towards them, they were
urged on by one Guardianus, a haughty man, who enjoyed
* Op., torn. iii. p. 919, edit. Bas. The date of this letter is not
given. Since, however, the request in it is addressed to Leo X., it
could not have been written before 1513, when he became pope.
1C TEMPTATIONS TO A MONASTIC LIFE.
a high reputation for piety. He succeeded best with one-
under whom he had learnt in early boyhood the first rudi
ments of grammar. The latter was generally reputed to be
a pious and upright man that is, not addicted to gambling,
to fornication, to usury, to drunkenness, or to infamous
crimes ; but one who lived entirely to himself, was very
parsimonious, and did not like that any one should possess
more than the very moderate portion of knowledge which
he had himself imperfectly acquired. For on receiving from
Florentius, when he was ten years old, a letter written with
some degree of elegance, he made the following sharp an
swer, that if he sent letters like it again, he should add to
them a commentary ; that his own plan was to write plainly,
and with stops. He seems to have had the feeling of many
with whom I am acquainted, that if. he could induce any
one to become a monk, he was offering a very acceptable
sacrifice to God. He constantly boasts how many he has
been the means of adding every year to the orders of St.
Francis, St. Dominic, St. Benedict, and St. Bridget. When
they were ready for the schools, which they call Universi
ties, being afraid that they would become infected in them
with a worldly spirit, and would decline to take the yoke
upon them, he was careful to have them placed under the
charge of some, commonly called Fratres Collationarii, who,
not having a home anywhere, make money by the training
of boys. The plan of these men is, when they see a boy of
a noble and lively spirit, to break and humble it by stripes,
by threats, by reproaches, and by various other means. All
this they call taming it, and preparing it for the monastic
life. The Dominicans and Franciscans are very partial to
them ; for they say that their orders would very soon perish
if they did not obtain recruits from their seminary. I think
that they have amongst them several well-disposed men ;
but when they have not before them the works of the best
TEMPTATIONS TO A MONASTIC LIFE. 17
authors ; when they live in the midst of their own darkness,
according to their own manners and customs, and do not
compare themselves with others ; and when they are com
pelled to spend a great part of the day in prayer and their
allotted tasks, I do not see how they can give boys a liberal
education
" The boys wasted more than two years with these men.
The younger of them, being somewhat more learned than
his masters, lost ground, at least in that portion of learning
.Si knowledge of which they said that they possessed. As to
one of his masters, Florentius says that he was a perfect
monster ; and that he never saw a man more ignorant, or
more vainglorious. Such are the men who are often set
over boys. For they are not selected according to the judg
ment of learned men, but according to the pleasure of the
Head of the brotherhood, who is generally ignorant of polite
literature. Another, who always seemed to be greatly de
lighted with the disposition of Florentius, on finding that
he was thinking of returning to his native country, began
in private to urge him to join their order, mentioning many
of the inducements to do so by which youths are commonly
influenced. . . . While he was plying him with frequent ex
hortations, adding at the same time flattery and presents,
and, last of all, caresses, the boy gave him this manly
answer, that he had not yet a sufficient knowledge of him
self, nor of monastic life ; and that as soon as he had arrived
at years of maturity, he would deliberate on the subject.
This man, who was not altogether a fool or a knave, then
left him. I have known, however, some of this fraternity,
who, not only by harsh and soft words, but also by dreadful
adjurations, and, I had almost said, by exorcisms and incan
tations, have attempted to prevail upon rich and well-born
youths, who have not yet completed their fourteenth year,
18 TEMPTATIONS TO A MONASTIC LIFE.
without the knowledge of their parents, to join their order.
What is kidnapping, if this is not 1
" When Antonius and Florentius had returned to their
native country, their guardians, who had not shown much
honesty in the management of their small property, urged
them to enter a monastery. Florentius, when he saw them
acting as if they wished to coerce the wills of their wards,
asked his brother, who was nearly three years older, he
himself having only just completed his fifteenth year, whe
ther he really wished to be bound with fetters from which
he could not hereafter be easily liberated. He candidly
admitted that he was not influenced by a love for religion,
but by the fear of his guardians. What/ said Florentius,
* are you so mad as, from foolish modesty and the fear of
men, . from whom you certainly have no reason to dread
stripes, to begin a kind of life, with the nature of which you
are not at all acquainted, and from which, when you have
once entered on it, you cannot easily retrace your steps V
Antonius began to allege as his excuse their pecuniary re
sources, which, small in themselves, had been much dimin
ished by the carelessness of their guardians. There is no
cause for fear, said Florentius ; we will scrape together the
remainder, and with it we will go to an University. We
shall easily find friends ; and we must remember, too, that
many who have nothing are supported by their own indus
try. Moreover, God will aid us in our honest endeavours.
" Antonius expressed so strongly his approbation of this
answer, that he raised expectations of himself in the mind
of the younger which he had not previously enter
tained. They therefore agreed to postpone the question
of entering the monastery to some future time, until,
after having been three or four years in the schools,
they should be better able, by their age and experience, to
decide on the course which it was best for them to take.
AGREEMENT OF THE BROTHERS TO RESIST. 19
This, I say, was the opinion of both of them. The elder,
however, was perplexed as to the answer to be given to the
guardians, who were exerting every effort to acomplish their
object, without having previously ascertained the wishes of
their wards. An answer was now arranged between them,
of which Antonius expressed his approbation. He only
asked the younger to begin the conversation, and to answer
in the name of both of them, adding that he was more
timid and ignorant than his brother. Florentius consented
to do so, but carefully stipulated with his brother that he
should abide by his determination; for, he said, if you
fail me after I have given the answer, all their wrath will
be discharged upon my head. Rather at once change your
mind, if either by flattery or harsh words you can be moved,
from your purpose. For, believe me, the matter in question
is of the very greatest importance. Antonius took a solemn
oath that he would adhere to what he had said.
" Some days afterwards one of his guardians paid them a
visit. He began by making a great profession of his regard
for his wards, as well of his vigilance and wonderful zeal
for their interests, and congratulated them on his having
found a place for them in the order of canons. Florentius
then, according to their agreement, answered for both.
" He thanked him for his kindness and zeal on their behalf,
but added that neither he nor his brother thought that they
should act with prudence, if, while, on account of their age,
they were ignorant of the world, and hardly knew their
own minds, and were altogether unacquainted with the
nature of that which they were about to undertake, they
should select any kind of life in particular. They had not
yet, they said, entered any monastery, and they could not
conceive what kind of an animal a monk could be. In
their opinion the best plan would be for them to spend a
few years in the prosecution of their studies, and then, in
20 CONTINUED TEMPTATIONS.
due season, to take the matter into consideration. Thus
there was a far greater probability that they would make a
wise choice. The guardian, if he had been a pious man,
possessing the wisdom of the gospel, when he considered
that he should have checked them if, from the warmth of
youth, he saw them somewhat too forward, and should have
told them not to trust to the feeling of the moment, ought
to have given the lad an embrace when he heard this manly
answer. He became, however, red with anger, as if a blow
with the fist had been given to him ; so that, though he al
ways seemed to be a man of a somewhat gentle disposition,
now he had no power to control his anger, and shame alone
prevented him from striking him. Eegarding Florentius
with a look of utter scorn, he called him an idle, spiritless
rascal ; resigned his guardianship ; refused any longer to
guarantee them the means of subsistence j told them that
nothing was left, and that they must provide for them
selves. With these and many other cruel and bitter re
proaches he loaded the younger of the two, which drew
from him a few childish tears, but did not cause him to
alter his purpose. We accept/ he said, your resignation of
the guardianship, and release you from your charge. Thus
they separated.
"When the guardian saw that he had gained nothing by
threats and reproaches, he summoned to his aid his brother-
guardian, a man of wonderfully insinuating manner and
pleasing address. The meeting took place in a summer-house;
the boys were told to sit down ; and wine-glasses were pro
duced. After some agreeable conversation, they proceeded
to business more carefully and in a different manner. They
were very bland ; told many lies about the wonderful happi
ness of monastic life; held out to them great expectations from
it ; and added entreaties. The elder brother, worked upon
in this manner, found his resolution giving way, and forgot
ANTOSIUS A MONK. 21
the oath which he had taken more than once to be firm.
The younger adhered to his determination. In short, the
faithless Antonius, betraying his brother, took the yoke upon
him, having first stolen whatever he could lay his hands upon
not at all a new proceeding with him. With him, indeed,
everything went prosperously. For he was a man of slug
gish mind, of a strong constitution, careful about his
worldly interests, cunning, a hard drinker, much given to
fornication ; in short, so unlike the younger, that he almost
seemed like a supposititious child. He was always his bro
ther s evil genius. Not very long afterwards he acted
among his companions like Iscariot among the apostles.
When he saw his brother miserably entangled, he was con
science-stricken, and grieved because he had ruined him
by drawing him into the snare. This was the confession of
Judas, and I wish that like him he had hanged himself,
before he had been guilty of the impious deed.*
" Florentius, as is often the case with those who are fond
of study, was ignorant of, and careless about, common
things, and showed in these matters great simplicity. You
may find some, before the down comes on their chins, full
grown in cunning. He had a mind for nothing else but
his studies. For he was wholly intent upon them, and was
drawn by the force of nature towards them, having been in
the schools from his early childhood. His frame was deli
cate, but yet strong enough for mental labour. He had
only just entered on his sixteenth year. Afterwards he
was enfeebled by a quartan fever, brought on by his mean
and sordid living, from which he suffered, at this time,
for more than a year. Whither should a youth of this
kind, betrayed by every one, and destitute, ignorant of the
world, and afflicted with disease, betake himself 1 Was not
enough violence shown to drive the boy to any course 1
* This brother, after this time, disappears altogether from history.
22 TEMPTATIONS CONTINUED.
He persevered, however, in the determination which he had
not hastily formed. In the meantime the guardian already
mentioned, being determined to finish what he had begun,
suborned various persons of different sexes and conditions of
life monks, half monks, male and female cousins, young
men and old men, the known and the unknown, to carry on
the plot to its conclusion. Amongst them there were some
naturally such simpletons, that if their sacred robe had not
been their recommendation, they might have walked up
and down in public as morris-dancers, having shells in
their ears, and carrying tambours. Some there were who,
I think, had gone wrong more from superstition than from
wickedness ; but what matters it to a dying man whether he
be stabbed by a fool, or by a man of a perverse disposition 1
With how many battering-rams was the mind of that boy
shaken ! One brought before him the lovely image of mo
nastic tranquillity, exhibiting that kind of life in the best
possible point of view, and another, in a very tragic man
ner, exaggerated the dangers of the world, as if monks
lived out of it, as they paint themselves, in a strong ship,
while every one else is tossed about on the waves, certain to
perish unless they throw out to him a pole or a rope.
Another terrified him by fabulous tales. A traveller,
wearied, sat down on the back of a dragon, thinking that
it was the trunk of a tree. The dragon being roused, an
grily turned its head and devoured him. So the world de
vours its votaries. Some one had happened to pay a visit
to a monastery. lie was strongly urged to remain in it,
but persisted in his determination of leaving it. After his
departure, a lion met him on his way and tore the unhappy
wretch to pieces. Not to be too tedious, every kind of
engine was directed against the mind of a simple boy, left
alone through the perfidy of his brother, and of a weak
constitution. They carried on their designs against him
TEMPTATIONS CONTINUED. 23
with as mucli care, zeal, and vigilance, as if their object had
been to take an opulent city. Of so much importance it
seemed to these men, who were worse than Pharisees, to
bury one breathing and living youth. He was in genius,
learning, and eloquence, beyond his age. They hoped,
therefore, that he would be a great ornament to their fra
ternity.
" While he was in the situation just described, and was
looking round to see if there were any probability that any
saint would appear to show him the way of escape from
these men, he happened to visit a certain monastery in the
neighbourhood of the city where he then resided. He
found there one Cantelius, with whom he had been brought
up from his early childhood. This man was some years
older than himself, a crafty man, andxme who always looked
to his own interest. He had entered the monastery not so
much from piety, as from the love of good living and of
idleness. In learning he had made little progress, but was
a good singer, having cultivated his voice from his early
boyhood. He had been an unsuccessful fortune-hunter in
Italy. When his parents, like birds of ill-omen, constantly
reminded him of their small income, and of the number of
their children, he chose a monastic life, which has this
recommendation, that it affords the means of subsistence
to many children who would otherwise perish from
hunger. Cantelius, on hearing what progress Florentius
had made in his studies, at once thinking of the part
which he must act, showed a surprising affection for this
kind of life, and exhorted him to enter upon it ; he gave
him a wonderful description of it ; he exaggerated its
blessed tranquillity, liberty, and concord ; in short, repre
sented it to him as the fellowship of angels. He told him
repeatedly that his monastery contained a large number of
books, and that its inmates had plenty of time for study,
24 TEMPTATIONS CONTINUED.
thus showing his knowledge of the bait with which he-
could catch him. In short, if you had heard him speak,
you would have said that it was not a monastery, but the
garden of the muses. Florentius, who was open-hearted,
and of the age when we often feel a great affection for some
of our associates, had a strong and boyish love for Cantelius,.
which was the stronger as he had unexpectedly met with him
after a long separation. He was not yet a good judge of
character. Cantelius left no stone unturned to influence-
the boy, but he was unsuccessful.
" Florentius, after that conversation, was exposed to a
still stronger attack from others. They had prepared more
powerful battering-rams. They reminded him of the des
perate condition of his affairs, of the enmity of all his
friends, and lastly that he would perish from starvation of
all kinds of death the most miserable unless he renounced
the world. After having been for a long time tormented
by them without being shaken in his purpose, he went back
to Cantelius, merely to have some conversation with him.
The latter now used every effort to attach him to himself
in private as his tutor. Florentius was wonderfully in
clined to form friendships, and very willing to comply
with the requests of his friends. When, therefore, he
was incessantly worried, and was altogether destitute of
hope, he went to a monastery, not that which his guardian
intended for him, but that in which he had found his old
friend. It was a place so pestilential and unhealthy, that it
was scarcely fit for oxen, much less for a man of delicate
frame. But young men have not learnt to take account of
food, of climate, or of locality. He did not, however, go
to it with the intention of enrolling himself in the frater
nity, but that he might escape from his tormentors, hoping
that in time there might be a change for the better in his
circumstances.
TEMPTATIONS CONTINUED. 25
" In the meantime Cantelius persevered in his self-allot
ted task, taking advantage of the good-nature and simpli
city of his companion. For Florentius sometimes read to
him privately in one night a comedy of Terence, so that in
a few months they finished, in their secret nocturnal meet
ings, the works of the principal authors. In order that
Florentius might not draw back, every indulgence was
given to him. The lad was gratified with the society of his
equals. They sang, they indulged in pastimes, they com
peted with each other in making verses. He had a dispen
sation from fasts. No one warned or reproved him ; all
smiled upon him. Several months were thus spent by him
without reflection. When the day was at hand for putting
off the secular, and putting on the sacred vestments, Floren
tius, returning to himself, began to sing his old song, and
to beg the guardians whom he had chosen to give him his
liberty. Then again cruel threats were used, and he was
reminded that his affairs were desperate unless he perse
vered in what he had so well begun. Cantelius, who did
not want to lose his nightly tutor, to whom he paid nothing,
here acted his part very well. What was this, I ask, but
doing violence to a simple, inexperienced, and unreflecting
boy ? In short, the robe was thrown upon him against his
will, although it was well known that his mind was not at
all changed. After this was clone, the boy was again de
ceived by flattery and indulgence. Thus nearly a whole
year again passed away without reflection, and in the midst
of amusements.
" He had now almost found that this kind of life was
good neither for mind nor body. For to his mind nothing-
was agreeable but his studies. But in this place no im
portance was attached to them, and there was no occasion
for them. He was piously disposed, but he was not pleased
with the singing and the ceremonies in which nearly the
26 DISLIKE OF A MONASTIC LIFE.
whole of their life was passed. You may easily imagine
what a trial it is to a disciple of the Muses to pass his life
in the midst of men like these. There is no hope of free
dom for him unless he should happen to be placed at the
head of a nunnery, which is of all kinds of slavery the
worst. For independently of the continual charge of the
females, he has to pass his time idly in convivial banquets.
The body of the youth, moreover, was naturally so little able
to endure fasting, that if, not thinking about it, he did not
take his food till some time later than the usual hour, he
was frequently in danger of losing his life. Internal pains
and a fainting fit reminded him of his state. He had also,
from his early childhood to the age at which he had arrived,
another unfortunate peculiarity, which he could never
lose. He could not sleep til! late at night, and if his
sleep were once interrupted, he could not sleep again for
a long time. How much did he lament in conversation
that he could not enjoy those precious hours, and that the
best part of the day was lost in sleep ! How often did he
make violent efforts to change his nature, but to no purpose !
His dislike for fish was so great that the mere smell gave
him a bad headache, not unaccompanied with fever. What
could such a mind, such a body, do in a monastery, espe
cially in one of this description ? Just as much as a fish
could do in a field, or an ox on the ocean. The fathers
were not ignorant of these things. If there had been in
them a grain of true charity, ought they not, when they
considered his boyish ignorance or thoughtlessness, to have
come to his assistance with their advice, and to have thus
addressed him 1 c My son, it is foolish for you to strive in
vain. You are not suited for a monastery, and it is not
suitable for you. Seek another kind of life. Christ dwells
not here only, but everywhere. True piety may be found
under any vestment. We will do our best to propitiate
TEMPTATIONS CONTINUED. 27
your guardians, and to ensure your return in freedom to
them and to your friends. Thus you will not be a burden
to us, and we shall not be the cause of your ruin. This
would have been a proper address to make to him.
" No one, however, gave him a word of advice. Nay,
rather, they exerted every effort to prevent that unhappy
fish from escaping from the net. One said that it was the
plan of Satan, at such a crisis, to employ every art, every
device, to cause the fall of the youthful disciple of Christ.
If the latter fought this battle bravely, his future course
would be smooth, and even delightful. He affirmed that
his own experience had been of this description ; but that
now he seemed to be living in Paradise. Another reminded
him of the great danger to which he exposed himself, and
that St. Augustine might, in his anger, visit him with a
signal calamity on account of the insult offered to him in
forsaking the monastery. Several dreadful instances of his
anger were mentioned. One had contracted an incurable
disease; another had been struck dead by lightning j an
other had died from the bite of a viper. They added that
the wearing of the robe was, in fact, taking upon himself
the profession of a monk ; and that to give it up now, was
the same crime in God s eyes, and would expose him to the
same infamy among his fellow-creatures, as if he had gone
away after having taken the vow. Every kind of weapon
was directed against the youth : but none was more formid
able than the fear of infamy. Now, they would say, it
is too late to retreat ; you have put your hand to the plough
and must not look back if you lay aside the robe which
you have received in the presence of many witnesses, you
will make yourself the talk of the world. Where will you
go ? You will never again be able to come into the society
of good men. You will be execrated by the monks, and an
object of detestation to every one. Now the youth had the
28 ERASMUS A MOXK.
modesty of a, virgin, and dreaded death less than infamy.
He was assailed on the other side by his guardians and
friends, some of whom had stolen his property. In short,
villany carried the day. The youth, with inward abhor
rence, and with unwilling words, was compelled to put his
head into the noose, just as prisoners in war give their hands
to the conqueror to be bound, or as those who are overcome
by protracted tortures, act not according to their own wishes,
but those of the man who has gained the power over them.
" In the meantime the youth acted like those who are shut
up in prison. He solaced himself as far as possible with his
studies. This work he must do privately, though he might
be intoxicated openly. Accordingly, he beguiled the tedium
of his imprisonment with light literature, until, in an un
looked-for manner, God showed him the way of escape. He
was called by a powerful bishop into his family, and after
wards went to a celebrated University. If this good fortune
had not befallen him, his remarkable abilities would have
been k lost in idleness, effeminate pleasures, and convivial
banquets."
This is, in its main features, a correct description of
this period of his life. The letter certainly shows some
self-conceit. The false friend here referred to, Cante-
lius, was Cornelius Verden, a former school-fellow at De-
venter. On the return of Verden from Italy, he had
entered the monastery of Emaus, or Stein, near Gouda.
His motives for doing so are well described by Erasmus.
We find also in the above letter a reference to the fact that
Verden dissuaded him from entering the monastery pro
posed by his guardians, and induced him to enter the monas
tery at Stein. To the description here given, may be added
the following brief extract from his letter to Servatius, the
prior of the monastery at Stein, written many years after
this time, in reply to one in which the prior endeavoured
HIS FIRST WORKS. 29
to persuade him to return to it. " You know well," he
writes, " that it was by the pertinacity of my guardians, and
the persuasion of wicked men, that I was forced, rather than
induced, to enter the monastic life. ... Be this as it may,
I never liked the monastic life ; and I liked it less than ever
after I had tried it ; but I was ensnared in the way I have
mentioned. . . . Whenever the thought has occurred to me
of returning to your fraternity, it has always called back to
my remembrance the jealousy of many, the contempt of all ;
converse how cold, how trifling! how lacking in Christian
wisdom ! feastings more fit for the laity ! the mode of life,
as a whole, one which, if you subtract its ceremonies from
it, has nothing left that seems to me worth having."*
Erasmus fortunately found in the monastery a young
man, Herman of Tergau, of literary ardour equal to his
own. They spent their days and nights in study, commu
nicated the results to each other, and each profited by the
observations of his friend. The friendship thus begun lasted
through life. His hours of relaxation were employed in
painting. From this monastery his first two letters are
dated. They show that he had begun to form his admirable
style. They were written to Cornelius Aurotinus, a priest
of Tergau, in which he defends with great zeal the celebrated
Laurentius Valla against his contemptuous treatment. t He
tells us also that he attempted several kinds of verse. He
likewise composed, during his residence in the monastery, an
ode in honour of spring, the alternate verses of which were
written by Herman; a treatise on the contempt of the
world, J the style of which shows that he had carefully studied
the best Latin writers ; a treatise on the " Peace of the Soul ;"
and a funeral oration on Bertha de Heyer, a widow of
* Op., torn. iii. page 1527, edit. Lugd.
t Op., torn. iii. p. 268, edit. Bas.
J Op., torn. v. p. 1239, edit. Lugd.
30 A MEAN ACTION.
Tergau, who, he informs us, had been his refuge in want,
his comfort in distress ; who had given him excellent coun
sel, and had shown to him the same regard which she-
showed to her children.*
Le Clerc tells a story of him at this time of his life which
shows that " the child is father to the man," and that even
then, as in future years, deceit, and a want of moral courage,
were his conspicuous failings. In the garden of the monas
tery was a pear-tree, bearing exquisite fruit, which the
superior had reserved entirely to himself. Erasmus had
tasted these pears, and liked them so well that he was
tempted to steal them in the early morning. The superior,
missing the pears, rose early to detect the thief. Erasmus
ascended the tree, and was devouring the pears one after
the other, when a noise made by the superior showed him
that he was watched. On musing with himself how he-
should escape undiscovered, it occurred to him to imitate
the limp of a lame lay brother in the monastery. Accord
ingly, sliding down the tree, he walked with a limping gait
towards the house. The suspicions of the superior imme
diately fell upon the unhappy monk. He charged him with
the offence, and, notwithstanding his protestations of inno
cence, inflicted upon him a very severe penance.t
We gather from the foregoing letter that the fish diets, the
long fasts at the monastery, the interruptions of sleep, dis
agreed with him. Devoted as he was to study, he was
grieved that so long a proportion of the twenty-four hours
was spent in spiritual exercises and religious ceremonies.
He was isolated, also, except from one or two congenial
friends. He could not conceal the contempt with which he
regarded the members of the fraternity. At length, after
five years, which were not altogether lost, Henry de Bergis,
~ :: " Op., torn. viii. 552 E., edit. Lugd.
t "Bib. Univ.," s, 7, p. 141.
RESIDENCE AT CAMBEAY. 31
Bishop of Cambray, the person referred to at the close of
the above extract, having heard of his fame, and thinking
that he was a suitable person to accompany him as private
secretary to Rome, whither he was going in the hope of
obtaining a cardinal s hat, applied to the Bishop of Utrecht,
in whose diocese Stein was situated, to the general of the
order of Canons Kegular, and to the prior, for their per
mission for him to leave the monastery. Their consent was
immediately obtained ; and Erasmus gladly accepted the
offer. The bishop, however, abandoned his design ; but
Erasmus continued with him at Cambray, and took holy
orders in 1492. At length, after five years, during which
time he continued his studies and made some valuable
friendships, the bishop, in compliance with his urgent re
quest, promised to give him the means of prosecuting his
studies at the famous Montaigu College at Paris. He
entered it in 149G, when he was in his 29th year.
At this time the course of study to be followed by every
student was divided into rudiments (including reading and
arithmetic), grammar, syntax, poetry, rhetoric, philosophy,
and theology. Two years were assigned to the rudiments,
one to grammar, one to syntaxj one to poetry, one to rhe
toric, two to philosophy, and four to theology. Thus twelve
years were required to complete a regular course of study.
The universities at Paris and Bologna were the most cele
brated on the continent. The former was famous for its
schools of philosophy and theology ; the latter for its school
of law. Erasmus chose Paris, because his object was to
perfect himself in theology. He had obtained a student s
place at the college mentioned above; and immediately
after his arrival he took possession of it.
About this time he formed an acquaintance with the Mar
chioness de Vere, who resided with her tutor Battus at the
castle of Tournahens. She was the widow of Philip, the
32 MONTAIGU COLLEGE AT PAEIS.
son of Antony of Burgundy. Erasmus says of her : I
cannot describe in adequate terms the goodness or liberality
of this worthy lady." The marchioness was equally pleased
with him, and settled on him an annual pension of 100
florins. This pension was, however, seldom regularly paid.
The bishop also failed in the fulfilment of his promise.
Erasmus was now obliged, by an increase of ill health, to
return to his patron at Cambray. From the want of money
he had been unable to obtain proper food or lodgings, and
his constitution was thus permanently injured. We shall at
once see how his residence at the college produced this
effect when we read the description of it which he has given
in his colloquy entitled " Icthyophagia."* He tells us that
he brought away from it a constitution full of unhealthy
humours, and an immense quantity of vermin. Over that
college, he says, presided one John Standin, a man not of a
bad disposition, but very injudicious. What with hard
beds, a scanty supply of bad food, vigils, and hard labours,
he had seen, in the first year of his experience, many youths
of great genius and of high promise, some of whom actually
died, some were afflicted during the rest of their lives with
blindness, madness, and leprosy. " Was not this," he asks,
" the very refinement of cruelty ? . . . This treatment," he
adds, "was not confined to those in humble circumstances ;
it extended also to not a few sons of wealthy men, whose
noble disposition he quite ruined. It is the duty of a father
to restrain the lasciviousness of youth by reason and mode
ration. But who ever heard, in the depth of a hard winter,
of a morsel of bread being given to satisfy the cravings of
hunger -, of any one being ordered in the early morning to
get water to drink from the well, which is not only pesti
lential and unwholesome, but also at that hour is frozen ?
* " Colloquia cum notis selectis variorum accurante C. Sclirevellio,"
-edit. Lugd., 1064, p. 504.
VCTW TO ST. GENE VIE VE. 33
I know many who have thus contracted diseases which they
have never lost. Some sleeping apartments were on the
ground-floor, having mouldy plaster walls, near pestilential
latrinse. All who lodged in them were sure to die, or to
have a bad illness. I must not omit to mention that even
those who had done no wrong were flogged without mercy.
Thus, they say, pride is humbled, meaning by that word a
noble disposition, which they purposely break, to make a
man fit for a monastery. How many putrid sheep were
eaten there ! How much mouldy wine was drunk ! These
evils may have been corrected ; but too late for those who
have either died, or contracted disease in consequence of
them."
After staying for a time at Cambray, he returned to Paris.
Here he fell seriously ill. When his illness was at its
height, he had recourse to the intercession of St. Genevieve,
and made a solemn promise that, if he recovered his health,
he would celebrate her praises in poetry. His vow was, he
says, no sooner made than the fever left him. He then thanks
her for her condescension in interposing on his behalf.* This
mixture of seriousness and irony is the same which he after
wards displayed when, in his Colloquy, " Peregrinatio reli-
gionis ergo," and his other pieces, he attacked the super
stitions of the dominant church.
The irregularity of the bishop and marchioness in paying
their pensions now often reduced him to the greatest dis
tress. He was obliged to add to his scanty means by
taking pupils, and he was very successful in inspiring them
with a love of learning, and formed strong attachments to
them. One of them was Lord Mountjoy, who had been
page of honour to Prince Henry, afterwards Henry VIII.
Thus began a life-long friendship, which, as we shall see
directly, was the means of bringing him to England. Lord
* Ep. 154, app., edit. Lugd.
3
ARRIVAL IN ENGLAND.
Mountfjoy removed him to better lodgings, and settled on
liim a pension of 100 crowns. Another pupil was Thomas
Grey, son of the Marquis of Dorset. An offer was also made
to him to educate an ignorant English youth for a bishopric.*
He was to have 100 crowns to teach him for one year, and
was promised a benefice in a few months, and a loan of 300
crowns till he obtained it. Erasmus, however, not feeling
inclined to waste his time in training a dull youth, declined
the proposal. This necessity of taking pupils was a
great hindrance to him in the prosecution of his studies.
His progress was also retarded by constant ill health, caused,
as we have seen, by scanty food and hard beds, as well as
by rigid vigils and labours. He lost time also by frequent
visits to Holland, to look after the remains of his patrimony.
In England, however, he began to be known, and to gather
round him a host of friends. By his untiring industry, he
had already laid the foundation of that learning which has
been the means of transmitting his name with honour to
generations then unborn.
Erasmus arrived in England in 1498, in the train of the
young Lord Mount joy. Immediately after his arrival he
repaired to the University of Oxford. He was not at
this time generally known ; but was forcing his way to
celebrity. In going to Oxford, his object was to join
that little band of men north of the Alps, who, as we have
seen in our introductory chapter, were here applying them
selves with ardour to the study of the Greek language and
literature. Among them were W. Grocyn, Latimer, and
Linacre. The last was physician to Henrys VII. and VIII,
and founder of the Pvoyal College of Physicians in London.
* Knight, in his " Life of Erasmus," p. 19, says that the person here
alluded to Avas James Stanley, son of Thomas, Earl of Derby, and
Margaret, Countess of "Richmond, made Bishop of Ely in 150C ; but
the statement is incorrect.
JOHN COLET. 35
Under Grocyn s instruction Erasmus made great progress,
and, as Gibbon has justly observed, learnt Greek at Oxford
to teach it at Cambridge.*
He did not, at the time, foresee the purpose to which
the knowledge thus obtained might be applied, and
that he was sharpening and polishing a weapon which,
wielded by his own hand and the hands of others, would
smite down the principalities and powers of darkness. His
wish was simply to gratify the longing for knowledge which
had become the passion of his life. Already the shadows of
evening were falling upon his path. The sunken eye, the
wan and wasted countenance, the form bent as if from the
infirmities of old age, showed very plainly that he had
known that " weariness of the flesh " which springs from
excessive study, and gave warning that hard mental toil and
a meagre diet had undermined his constitution, and seemed
likely at the time to bring him to a premature grave.
His great friend at Oxford was John Colet, afterwards the
celebrated Dean of St. Paul s, and founder of St. Paul s
School, a son of Sir Henry Colet, a wealthy city merchant,
who had been twice Lord Mayor of London. He had been
early sent to the University of Oxford ; afterwards taking
orders, he had been presented to a living in Suffolk, and a
prebend in Yorkshire. Colet had willingly sacrificed the
wealth which he might have accumulated if he had followed
his father s occupation, as well as the prospect of distinction
in the service of the state, which, through his father s influ
ence at court, presented itself to him. The sole survivor of
a family of twenty-two brothers and sisters, he had for
saken those temples in the great metropolis where Plea
sure erected her throne and assembled constantly crowds of
her worshippers, that he might devote himself at Oxford to
* Erasmus took up his abode at Oxford at the College of St. Mary.
Its gateway, nearly opposite Newlim Hall, is still standing.
32
36 COLET IN ITALY.
the study of the Scriptures, and to the propagation of the
results of that study among all who came within reach of
his influence. When Erasmus came to Oxford, he was
lecturing on the Epistles of St. Paul.
Colet had just returned from Italy, where he had been
applying himself diligently to the study of the Greek
language. Happily he had escaped the contaminating in
fluence of those who, at this time of the revival of classical
literature, professed belief in the philosophy of Plato, Aris
totle, and Pliny, and treated Christianity as a cunningly-
devised fable ; " who," as Lord Macaulay writes, " regarded
those Christian mysteries, of which they were stewards, just
as the Augur Cicero and the High Pontiff Caesar regarded
the Sibylline books and the pecking of the sacred chickens ;
who, among themselves, spoke of the Incarnation, the
Eucharist, and the Trinity in the same tone in which Cotta
and Velleius talked of the oracle of Delphi, or the voice of
Eaunus in the mountains."* He had been led to quench his
thirst in a purer fountain than any which sparkled amid the
" consecrated bowers " of Athens.
At the time of Colet s visit, Alexander VI. wore the
papal tiara. The vice and profligacy which prevailed in his
court were enough to disenchant the most ardent admirer
of the papal system. His palace was the scene of Baccha
nalian orgies. Licentious songs, swelled by a chorus of revel
lers, echoed through its banqueting-hall. The Pope himself
quaffed large draughts of wine from the foaming goblet.
The grossest venality prevailed in the papal court. The
highest dignities in the Church were conferred without
shame on the best bidder. We may suppose that thus
an earnest desire was awakened in Colet s mind for a re
formation of the Church of Eome in its head and its mem-
" Essay on Ranke s Lives of the Popes. "
SAVONAROLA. 37
bers. We may imagine also, with a recent writer,* that
he had heard at Florence how Savonarola, the celebrated
prior of San Marco, horror-stricken at the revival of pagan
ism in a Christian city, and at the vice and scepticism which
very generally prevailed, had determined to confine himself
almost entirely to prayerful meditation on the records of
heavenly truth. We may fancy that he had often been
a member of those crowded congregations in the Duomo of
Florence, which listened spell-bound to the burning words
of this preacher of righteousness, t as, carefully expounding
the Scriptures, he denounced the Divine vengeance upon the
rulers of the Church and the inhabitants of Italy for their
vices and crimes ; and that he had witnessed the wonderful
effect produced by his oratory when the citizens, whose lives
had hitherto been one long holiday, read the word of God
as they pursued their accustomed occupations, and banished
from their walls that sensuality which had lifted its unblush
ing front in her streets in the full light of day.J Thus then
he had been led to expound the Scriptures at Oxford, hoping
that through the influence of his hearers, many of whom
" would go everywhere preaching the word," he should pro
mote the onward march of moral and spiritual improve
ment.
The schoolmen had hitherto reigned supreme at Oxford,
They held the verbal inspiration of Scripture ; they fixed
attention upon single verses, to which they attached differ
ent senses, and wasted their time in employing them to
carry on subtle and unprofitable disquisitions on such sub-
* Mr. Frederick Seebolim, in his work The Oxford Reformers of
1498," p. 7.
t Colet left England in the year 1404 on his way to Italy. Then he
must have been twenty-three years of age. Seebohm s "Oxford Re
formers."
Savonarola preached his first sermon in the Duomo or Cathedral
of Florence in Lent, 1491.
38 THE SCHOOLMEN.
jects as these : Whether we shall eat and drink after the
resurrection? Whether angels can be in more than one
place at the same time 1 What was the physical condition
of the human body in paradise ? Whether Christ could
have taken upon Him the nature of a woman or an ass ?
Their appetite for this kind of strife was insatiable. They
became heated by argument, and continued to dispute on
these trifling questions as though their eternal destiny
depended on the settlement of them. To their rash specu
lations the words of the poet may be applied :
Tools rush in where angels fear to tread."
They dared even to pry into the secrets of Jehovah, to talk
as if they had been admitted to His council-chamber, and
knew, for instance, how He had made chaos to disappear,
and had called the vast fabric of the heavens and the earth
into existence ; how it was that He had caused the stain of
Adam s sin to descend to all his posterity; how it was that
the power of the Highest had overshadowed the Virgin, when
Christ was born in Bethlehem of Judea. They dared even
to describe minutely the infernal regions, as though they
had themselves been admitted to that dark prison-house of
pain.* The dust raised by these encounters as the com
batants met in the centre of the tilt-ground with the rever
beration of two mighty thunder-clouds which rush together
in the firmament of heaven, obscured the view of those
great and solemn truths, on the due reception and main
tenance of which depended their eternity. The Bible had
become a mere arsenal of texts, which they wrested from
their connection with the preceding passage, and employed
for the purpose of weaving their theological subtleties. It
had ceased to be a record of real events, or to give a con-
* Seethe "Praise of Folly," by Erasmus, a translation of a part
of which is given hereafter.
COLET AT OXFORD. 30
nected account of the lives of individuals. They practically
neglected its teaching altogether.
Against this system of the schoolmen Colet entered his
decided protest. He looked upon Scripture as a whole, and
not as a carefully prepared collection of texts. He endea
voured to ascertain the drift of the apostle s argument ; he
compared St. Paul s statements of divine truth with those of
St. John, in order that he might show the harmony exist
ing between them ; he proved that the Epistles were a series
of letters, addressed to living men, and were designed to
be " profitable to them for correction and instruction in
righteousness." But while he constantly evinced his love
for St. Paul as an earnest teacher of divine truth, he con
sidered that to Christ was due his devoted and dutiful
.allegiance. His hearers were now told for the first time to
look upon the Gospels as a vivid record of the teaching of
their adorable Redeemer. He informed them that he had
not found in Scripture a number of absurd propositions to
which he must compel himself to yield an unqualified
assent ; but a Being whom he could take as " his leader on
the heavenly road," whom he could love with a love far
stronger than he gave to any 1 object of earthly attachment,
.and to whom he could devote that body, soul, and spirit,
which are His.
These expositions of divine truth produced a wonderful
impression at Oxford. Multitudes flocked to hear him.
As Erasmus says, Colet had not taken any degree in theology
(the qualification required by the statutes for lecturing on
the Bible) ; yet there was no doctor of the law or divinity,
no abbot or dignitary, who did not come to hear him.
Some no doubt came to cavil at the lecture, and to find
matter of accusation against him, because he assailed the
dominant school of theology at Oxford; but as we are in
formed that they came again and again, and brought even
40 FEIENDS AT OXFOED.
their note-books,* we may reasonably conclude that they
came at last, because they were convinced that he was
bringing before them the fundamental truths of Christianity.
Erasmus had often attended Colet s lectures, and had
often argued with him on the system of the schoolmen.
The study of their works had created in his mind a disgust
for theology altogether j but he was not yet prepared to
abandon his allegiance to them. He spent the greater part
of 1499 at Oxford. Prior Charnock, with whom he had
taken up his abode at the college of St. Mary the Virgin,
introduced him to Colet. He speaks in glowing terms of
the friendships which he had formed during his residence
in the University. K"ow also began that intimacy with
Thomas More, afterwards the celebrated Sir ! Thomas More^
Lord Chancellor in the reign of Henry VIII., who fell a
victim to the arbitrary will of that monarch. He probably
first met him in London.t His gentle and loving disposi
tion, as well as a similarity in their tastes and habits, had
drawn not only Erasmus, but also the other members of the
little band, consisting of Colet, Grocyn, and Linacre, irre
sistibly towards him.
Erasmus seems to have spent the Christmas vacation of
1499-1500 at Woodstock, or some royal hunting station. His
feelings in regard to this part of his life are well described
in an amusing letter which he wrote to a friend at Paris :
" As for your friend Erasmus," he said, " you would hardly
know him. He is almost grown a good hunter, a better
horseman, a very tolerable courtier. He can salute with
more complaisance, he can smile with a better grace, and
* Op., torn. iii. p. 456, C., edit. Lugd.
t The story told of their first meeting, when Erasmus, captivated
with More s conversation, exclaimed, " Aut tu es Morus, autmillus ;"
to which More replied, "Aut tu Erasmus es, ant diabolus," is
commonly supposed to be without foundation.
THE EXCELLENCES OP ENGLAND.
has learned all these manners in spite of nature." An
invitation is given to his friend to come to England to
partake of these singular advantages of this country, which
are preferable to the dulness and rudeness of France. He
tells him that nothing but the gout could stop him, and that
if he only knew the excellences of Britain he would pro
cure wings, if he had no feet, and fly over hither without
any further delay, especially if he told him of the nymphs,
or fair ladies, here so beautiful, so fair, and so easy, that if
he saw them he would prefer them to his beloved muses.
He adds, that there is a custom peculiar to this country,
never to be enough admired, that men and women salute
one another and kiss with the most innocent freedom at
visiting, parting, meeting again, and again taking leave ;
and that if he did come over and taste these pleasures he
would here desire to spend the whole remainder of his life.
"We will jest out the rest," he says, when we meet. I
shall see you, I hope, in a very little time." "
Erasmus, however, soon found that these pursuits and
pleasures, though they might amuse him for a time, were
not really congenial to his inclinations, and must not be
permitted to interrupt the solemn business of life. He was
now pursuing learning for its own sake, that he might add
to the vast stores of knowledge which he had already
acquired. Colet had hoped that he would aid him in
exposing the sophistry of the schoolmen, and that he w r ould
lecture on some book of the Old Testament, that he might
assist him in imbuing the minds of the students at Oxford
with those sound views of scriptural truth, the heartfelt
reception of which could alone make them wise, and happy,
and useful in this world, and prepare them for the enjoy
ment of the immortality beyond it. He well knew that his
great intellectual powers peculiarly qualified him to deal
* Op., torn, iii., p. 222., edit. Bas.
42 DEPARTURE FROM OXFORD.
with tins subject. They had often held discussions on
theological questions. The result of them had been that
Erasmus began to see the absurdity of the system in which
he had been trained but he was not yet prepared to do
battle with the schoolmen. He thought that he might sus
tain an ignominious defeat if he endeavoured to smite down
those foes before his weapons were properly sharpened, or he
was sufficiently skilled in the use of them. The announce
ment which he now made to Colet that he must shortly
leave Oxford, greatly disappointed him. He had indulged
the hope that, sustained by the sympathy and ready help of
Erasmus, his drooping courage would be revived, and he
should be able to do valiantly in the conflict with his for
midable antagonists. But now these expectations were in
vain. Erasmus, however, assured him that though he was
not at hand to aid him in his conflict, he would endeavour
to further his studies, and by his written words to nerve
the arm and animate the heart of this valiant champion of
the truth. He made to him a promise which, as we shall see
hereafter, he fulfilled, that when he had obtained the
requisite strength, he would openly place himself on his
side, and aid him in beating back the foes confederate
against him.
Having given him this assurance, Erasmus took his de
parture from Oxford in the year 1500. On the 27th of
January, he left for Dover, from which place he proposed to
embark for the Continent.
MISFORTUNE AT DOVER. 43
CHAPTER III.
RETURN TO THE CONTINENT. JOHN VITRARIUS. THE
ADAGES. THE ENCHIRIDION. A.D. 1500 1505.
ERASMUS, on his arrival at Dover, met with a great misfor
tune. It appears that Henry VII., reviving an obsolete
statute, had forbidden the exportation of gold coin from the
realm. The custom-house officers made use of it as a pre
text for searching him, and for depriving him of the golden
crowns with which he had been enriched by the bounty of
his friends before his departure from England.
This loss appears to have made a great impression on
him. In an epistle to his friend Pace, written about
twenty years after this time, when he was speaking of his
Commentaries, which he was afraid that he had lost, he
says that they gave him as much concern as his misfortune
at Dover, where he had lost his all.* The immediate conse
quence of this loss was that he was obliged to abandon the
idea of proceeding to Italy, and to work hard at Paris that
he might procure the means of subsistence. He now worked
at his collection of " Adages or Proverbial Sayings of the
Ancients," partly with the design just referred to, partly that
he might improve himself in the Greek language. The
prevalence of the plague at Paris drove him first of all to
* Op., torn. iii. p. 454, edit. Bas.
44 PANEGYRIC ON PKINCE PHILIP.
Orleans, and then to Holland. He could not, as lie informs
us, endure the long and substantial repasts of the inhabi
tants, their devotion to gain, and their insensibility to
literature.* He afterwards returned to France, and took up
his abode at Tournahens, the residence, as we have seen, of
the Marchioness of Yere, and her friend Battus, her tutor.
He here wrote, in the year 1501, his famous Enchiridion,
which I shall presently describe.
One of the excursions from Paris which he made after
this time was to the Low Countries. When Prince Philip
returned from Spain, the States of Brabant asked Erasmus
to pronounce a panegyric upon him. "With great reluctance
he undertook to do so. " I foresaw," he writes to Colet,
"that such a thing could not be done without adulation."
He spoke it in the palace at Brussels on the 6th of January,
1504, in the presence of nearly all the nobility. His address
gave great satisfaction. Erasmus received congratulations
upon it from every part of Europe. Philip gave him fifty
pieces of gold, and offered him a place in his palace. Eras
mus, however, declined it.
The following passage from the panegyric shows the par
tiality of Erasmus for Paris : " This city has advantages,
one even of which it is difficult to find in most towns a
flourishing clergy, an almost unrivalled school, a senate as
venerable as Areopagus, as celebrated as the Amphictyonic,
as illustrious as the ancient senate of Rome. By their
happy assistance the greatest blessings are united in their
city enlightened religion, profound learning, and the ad
ministration of justice. The clergy are learned ; the learned
are pious ; and both learning and piety are united in the
senators. "t
* He called Holland "Beer and Biitter Land." Miiller, p. 232.
+ The title of this address is the following : " The panegyric ad
dressed by Desiderius Erasmus, in the name of the whole country, to
JOHN VITEAEIUS. 4-5
It was while lie was staying with his friend the mar
chioness that he became acquainted with John Yitrarius,
the recluse monk of St. Omer, of whose character he has
given a beautiful and eloquent description in a letter to his
friend, Justus Jonas. * He always joined together the
names of Colet and Yitrarius, as men remarkable for their
love of Evangelical truth and for their personal holiness.
He showed him his Enchiridion, and obtained his approval
of the work.t The following extract from the letter just
referred to exhibits to us, among other features in his cha
racter, the zeal with which he denounced the vices of the
clergy and the corruptions of the Church of Rome :
" Yitrarius was nearly forty-four years old when I became
acquainted with him. Immediately he began to form an
attachment to me, though a man very unlike himself. He
had much influence with many excellent men, and was very
popular with many persons of high rank. He was tall, had
an elegant person, was remarkable for his talents, and pos
sessed an elevated mind. When he was a boy he made
himself acquainted with the works of the Scotists. He did
not altogether condemn them, as there were to be found in
them some good things badly expressed ; but yet he had
not an exalted opinion of them. He admired no one who
wrote religious works more than Origen. "When I told
him that I was surprised that he should approve of the
writings of a heretic, he answered, with great energy,
that he could not imagine that a mind from which had pro
ceeded so many works, remarkable for their learning, and
the most illustrious Prince Philip of Burgundy, on the subject of his
triumphal departure to Spain and his happy return." Op., torn.
iv.p.397, edit. Eas.
* Op., torn. iii. p. 451, edit.Lugd.
t Catalogus Lucubrationum procfixus, Op. torn, primo. Eras.
Joanni Botzhemo, edit. Bas.
46 JOHN VITBARITTS.
exhibiting so much fervour, was not influenced by the Holy
Spirit.
"Though he by no means approved of that mode of life
into which, in the ignorance of youth, he had entered of his
own accord; or been enticed by others, constantly telling
me that it was the life rather of madmen than of those who
were truly religious, to go to sleep, to awake, to go to sleep
again, to speak, to be silent, to go, to return, to take, or to
abstain from food at the sound of the bell, in a word, to
do everything, rather according to the commandments of
men than according to the rule of Christ, and that nothing
was more unjust than the equality among so many who
were really unequal, chiefly because often heavenly minds,
and minds framed for better things, were buried beneath
the weight of ceremonies and human ordinances, or were
lost through the envy of others around them ; yet he never
recommended any one to change his mode of life, and he did
not himself design anything of the kind, being prepared
rather to endure everything than to give offence to any one,
proposing St. Paul as an example to himself in this matter.
He had studied so carefully the sacred books, especially
the Epistles of St. Paul, that no one knew better his nails
and fingers, than lie the writings of that apostle. If you
gave him the beginning of any part, he would tell you the
.whole of the remainder of the Epistle without a single mis
take. He could say from memory many parts of St. Am
brose. You would scarcely believe how much of the works
of other orthodox writers he knew by heart. For this ad
vantage he was indebted partly to the retentiveness of his
memory, partly to continual study. When I asked him, as
we were conversing together, what preparation he made for
preaching, he answered that he usually took up St. Paul s
Epistles, and continued to read them till he found a flame
kindled in his breast. In this meditation he persevered,
JOHN VITKAEItfS. 47
adding, besides, burning words of prayer, till he was re
minded that it was time to begin. He did not make di
visions in his sermons a plan so much adopted by preachers
that you would fancy that they might not act otherwise ;
thus the division is often without meaning. It also lessens
the fervour of the discourse ; for, by showing art, it makes
you think that the preacher is insincere. But Vitrarius, by
making his sermon flow on continuously, so joined the sacred
Epistle with the reading of the Gospel, that his hearers went
home, not only instructed, but with a zeal for true religion.
He did not, like so many preachers, trifle with his hearers
by gesticulations, nor did he deafen them by shouting,
but he so spoke that you might at once see that his
words proceeded from a glowing, and simple, but from a
sober heart. He did not at any time linger so long
on his theme as to cause weariness, nor did he with much
pomp cite various authorities now referring his readers to
Scotus, now to Thomas, now to Durandus, or to the works on
the civil or canon law, that the multitude might think highly
of his knowledge. His discourse was full of Holy Scripture,
nor could he speak of anything else. His heart was in his
subject. He was influenced by a burning desire of drawing
men to the true philosophy of Christ, such as you could
hardly believe to exist.
" After labours of this kind, he was ambitious of the glory
of martyrdom. As I have learnt from his intimate friends,
he had obtained permission from the heads of his fraternity
to visit those regions in which Christ is not known, or is
worshipped in an impious manner, thinking that he should
be happy if, when he came there, he should win the mar
tyr s crown. But as he was in the middle of his journey,
he heard, as it were, a voice from heaven which said,
Keturn, John, you shall suffer martyrdom in your own
country. He obeyed the voice, and found that what it had
JOHN VITBAKIUS.
told him was true. There was a house in which the religi
ous life had so decayed, that it seemed more like a brothel
than a nunnery. And yet amongst its inmates were some
who could be, and who wished to be, reformed. While by
frequent addresses and exhortations he was recalling them
to Christ, eight of the number, who were past all hope of
recovery, conspired against him, and having watched their
opportunity, dragged him apart, and having bound him
with handkerchiefs, attempted to strangle him. Nor did
they desist, till some by chance coming in, interrupted
them in the commission of their abominable crime. He
was at this time half dead, and was with difficulty recalled
to life; yet he never made any complaint even to those
whom he accounted his intimate friends, and he still did
everything in his usual manner to help forward the work
of their salvation. Even when he looked at them, his
countenance did not wear a more sorrowful expression than
heretofore. He knew very well who was the chief con
spirator. He was a Dominican divine, a man who openly
led a very wicked life. Yet he never harmed him even by
a word, although he was angry with no class of men more
than with those who, professing themselves to be the
teachers of, and the guides to, true religion, alienated the
people from Christ by their life and wicked teaching.
"Occasionally he preached seven times a day, and he
never wanted an abundance of matter for a learned sermon
when he had occasion to speak about Christ. Yet tiie whole
of his life was nothing more than an eloquent sermon. So
far from being reserved, he was cheerful in company ; but
yet there was never in him the least appearance of levity
or of trifling, far less of excess or of intemperance. He
interlarded his conversation with learned observations, for
the most part of a sacred character, and tending to the
advancement of piety. Such was his conversation when he
JOHN VITRAEIUS. 4
received or returned a visit. If he went on a journey, his
great friends sometimes lent him a mule or a horse, that
he might the more easily hold a conversation with them.
Then this most excellent man uttered in a cheerful manner
words which no jewels could purchase. He sent away no
one from him sorrowing, or who was not the better for
having been with him, or who was not inflamed with a
greater love for piety. You would never find him consult
ing his own interest. He was not obnoxious to the charge
of gluttony, ambition, avarice, pleasure, hatred, envy, or of
indulgingany other evil affection. In everything he gave
thanks to God, and he had no greater pleasure than to find
that he had been successful in inflaming men with a love
for evangelical piety. His efforts were not in vain. He
won many men and women to Christ, whose death clearly
showed how much they differed from the common herd of
the people. You would see his disciples dying with the
greatest joy, and on the approach of death singing like
swans, speaking in a manner which clearly showed that
they were the subjects of a divine influence ; while others,
trusting in the religious rites which they had observed, and
in the solemn protestations which they had made, breathed
out their souls in uncertainty.
" Ghibertus, an excellent physician of the town, and a very
pious man, who has been present at the death-beds of many
of both schools, can bear witness to the truth of the preceding
assertions. . . . The very pure soul of Vitrarius had an
utter abhorrence of all vices, but especially of lust, and was
truly a temple dedicated to Christ. He was greatly offended
with the least reference to this last vice, and could not
endure obscene language. He never spoke against vice in a
manner which showed anger or hatred, and never disclosed
the secrets of the confessional ; but he painted such a pic
ture of virtue, that every one in the secret recesses of his
4
,50 JOHN VITKARIUS.
heart knew whether or no it was a faithful likeness of him
self. In giving advice he showed wonderful wisdom,
integrity, and judgment.
" He was not very willing to hear private confessions ; but
yet, in this matter also, he observed the law of Christian
charity. . . . He openly expressed his dislike of anxious
.and repeated confessions. He attached very little import
ance to superstitious rites and ceremonies. He ate in mode
ration, and with thanksgiving, certain kinds of food. His
clothing did not differ at all from that of other men. Often,
on account of his health, he went on a journey whenever he
found himself unwell. One day, when he was going through
his allotted exercise of morning prayer with his companion,
and was suffering from sickness arising from the want of
food the day before, entering the nearest house, he took
some food, and, before continuing his journey, began to
pray. When his companion thought that he must say over
all his prayers from the beginning, because he had taken
food after saying the prayers assigned to the first hour, he
cheerfully replied, that no sin had been committed, nay,
that God would be a gainer. Before, he said, we prayed
with languor and heaviness; now, with joyful minds, we
shall sing to Him spiritual hymns ; and He is always pleased
with those offerings which come from a cheerful giver. I
happened at that time to be staying with Antonius a Bergis,
the Abbot of St. Bertin. We did not usually dine till after
the middle of the day, and my stomach could not bear for so
long the want of food (for it was Lent), especially as my
mind was wholly given to my studies. Accordingly, it was
my practice before dinner to fortify myself with a little
warm broth, that I might not suffer from the pangs of hun
ger before the dinner-hour arrived. When I asked him
whether it was lawful for me to do so, he, looking at the lay
companion whom he had with him, and being careful not to
JOHN VITRAK1US. 51
give him offence, replied, You would have done wrong if
you had not done so, and by the want of food hindered your
self from prosecuting your sacred studies, and injured your
health.
" When Pope Alexander had appointed two jubilees in
stead of one, in order that he might increase his gains, and
the Bishop of Tournay had, at his own risk, purchased the
indulgence from him, the commissaries used every effort
that he might not be a loser, but rather a gainer by the
transaction. Here, in the first place, those were called to
-act their part, who were the most popular preachers. Vi-
trarius, seeing that money which was applied to the relief
of the poor, was thrown into the box, did not disapprove
of what the pope offered, and yet he did not approve of it.
But certainly he was displeased because the poor were de
prived of their usual relief; he condemned the foolish con
fidence of those who thought that when they had thrown
their money into the box their sins would be pardoned. At
length the commissaries made a present of 100 florins
towards the erection of the church which was then being
built in the convent, so that if he could not recommend the
pope s pardons, he might at least say nothing about the
injurious effect of them. But, as it were divinely inspired,
he exclaimed, Away, ye Simonists, with your money. Do
you suppose that I am a man who, for money, will suppress
evangelical truth ] If thus I put an end to your gains,
I ought to have more regard for souls than for your
profit. The men, whose consciences told them that they were
doing wrong, drew back when they heard these strong words
addressed to them by one whose heart was under the influence
of evangelical truth. Contrary, however, to expectation,
yery early in the morning, a sentence of excommunication
was affixed to the walls, which was taken down by a citizen
before it became known to many. He, not at all terrified
42
52 JOHN VITEAEIUS.
by these threats, ^with the greatest calmness taught the
people, and devoted himself to the service of his Saviour,
not fearing any anathema which was hurled against him for
preaching Christ.
" You will now be glad to hear what became of him after
wards. He not only displeased the commissaries, but also
some of the brethren, not because they disapproved of his
manner of life, but because it was better than they liked it
to be. He was altogether intent upon winning souls but
in the culinary department, in building, or in drawing rich
young men into the monastery, he was not so active as they
wished him to be. Still this most excellent man did not
neglect matters of this kind ; but if anything were required
for the relief of the wants of others, he did not follow the
example of many, but paid very great attention to them.
. . . When, from living in the same place with him, one
after another grew up, who, under the influence of a similar
spirit, sought rather to promote Christian piety than to fill
their larder, they banished him to a small convent at Cour-
tray. There, as far as he was allowed to do so, still like
himself, teaching, consoling, and exhorting, he ended his life
in peace, leaving behind him some little books in French,
the fruit of his scriptural studies, which, I doubt not, are
such as were his conversation and manner of life. And yet
I know that he is now condemned by some who think that
there is great danger if the people read anything besides the
trifling stories of history, or the dreams of the monks. A
spark of his doctrine still lives in the breasts of many. If
you compare them with others, you will say that the latter
are not Christians, but Jews. In such contempt that re
markable man was held by his own body. If he had been
the colleague of the Apostle Paul, I do not doubt that he
would have preferred him to Barnabas or Timothy. You
have now before you our paragon, Vitrarius, unknown to
STUDY OF GREEK. 53
the world, but distinguished and illustrious in the kingdom
of Christ."
Notwithstanding the kindness of the friends lately referred
to, often, in the years from 1501 to 1505, Erasmus gave way
to despondency. It had now become the settled purpose of
his life to separate himself as far as possible from secular, and
to apply himself to Scripture studies. "I struggle," he
wrote to Colet, " to devote myself to the study of sacred
literature : I hate everything which detains me from it."
All his pursuits were considered by him as important only
so far as they were subservient to the attainment of that
end. But constant ill fortune had hitherto attended his
efforts. Those years had been passed in a constant struggle
with poverty. He had been obliged to engage in literary
work which, as he says, " had ceased to be pleasant to him,"
that he might procure the means of subsistence and of pro
secuting his studies. He says that he should purchase first
Greek authors, next clothes. He complains that want of
money hindered him from finishing some treatises, because
it forced him to spend much of his time in reading lectures
to young students. But he < persevered in his self-allotted
task. He had laboured for three years at Greek, because
he considered that without it he could do nothing in any
branch of study. He had endeavoured to master the Hebrew
tongue, but had failed in doing so, in all probability, from
the want of proper instruction.* Thus, then, this poor
student had worked on in failing health, amid difficulties
which would have daunted the courage of an ordinary man,
animated with the single desire of serving God faithfully,
and doing good in his day and generation, by preparing
himself to devote, as we shall see hereafter, the powers with
which He had gifted him to the investigation and defence
* Op., torn. iii. p. 351, edit. Bas.
54 THE ADAGES.
of Christian truth, as well as to its propagation throughout
the continent of Europe.
The first edition of the Adages was printed at Paris in
1500. It consisted of 800 proverbs, and was dedicated to
Lord Mountjoy, having been designed to aid himinhis studies.
It seems to have been compiled in a few days, during his-
intervals of leisure from more important occupations. In
the year 1508 he published a second edition of this work,
because, as he says in a letter to Colet,, the first was imper
fectly executed by him, and badly printed.* During the
time which had elapsed since the publication of the first
edition, he had been engaged in collecting a great number
of adages. He had obtained many of them from various
friends, who kindly lent him their manuscripts. This work
is a monument of the extent of his reading, of his great
industry, and of his profound erudition. In it he traces to their
origin all the strange sayings in the classic writers. It was
received with great applause. "We stand amazed when we
contemplate that ardour in the pursuit of learning which
led him, at a time when many classical works existed only
in manuscript, and were scattered in various parts of Europe,
to persevere until he had collected at first 3200 proverbs,
and afterwards more than 4000, having searched for them
with that care which was necessary since, as he says in his
proverb, "Herculei labores,t" "the labours of Hercules,"
" adages, because they are very small, sometimes escape the
eyes which look most closely for them," as well in those-
more obscure classical writers whose names even have been
scarcely known to the learned of succeeding generations, as
in the writings of every one of those poets, orators, philoso
phers, and historians of ancient Greece and Rome, who*
* Op., torn. iii. p. 352, edit. Bas.
t Op., torn. ii. p. 707 C., sqq., edit. Lugd.
SCAKABEUS AQUILAM QTLffiRIT. OD
have erected for themselves in thenv a durable monu
ment.
This work contains, not only those which may be more
strictly denominated proverbs, but also most of the remark
able sayings or phrases in the works of the ancients. We find,
on an examination of it, that the sayings and pro verbs "Use
is a second nature/ " One swallow does not make a summer "
(which he interprets to mean that one day is not sufficient to
acquire virtue or learning) ; " Let the cobbler stick to his
last ;" " While there is life there is hope ;" " To have one
foot in the grave ;" together with many more of a similar
kind which are constantly used amongst us, were used also
in the streets of Athens and Rome in the days of those
mighty monarchs who have moulded the taste and genius of
mankind in every succeeding age of the world s history.
When the work had been improved by alterations and ad
ditions, it became the best key to classical authors of any in
that age. The Greek quotations were afterwards carefully
translated into Latin, so that many would find assistance
from it in the study of the former language.
But unquestionably the most interesting part of the work
contains those digressions introduced in later editions, in
which he animadverts in the strongest terms on the vices,
follies, and crimes of popes, monarchs, statesmen, monks, and
people, in the age in which he lived. Thus, in writing on
the pro verb, " Scarabeus aquilam quoerit;"* or, " The beetle-
pursues the eagle," he compares the monarchs of his day to
the king of birds in his threatening and terrible shriek an
appropriate symbol of those imperious mandates which
spread terror among all ranks of human society, so that they
crouch in vassalage before them ; in his determination to seek
a larger space for his depredations, and not to suffer any
other robber in the neighbourhood a fit representation of
* Op., torn. ii. p. 869 A., sqq., edit. Lugd.
56 SILENI ALCIBIADIS.
that lust of conquest which leads human eagles to aim con
tinually at the extension of the boundaries of their empire,
or the limits within which they have a right to plunder ; and
in his eyes, which are sharper than those of the lynx, and
can gaze steadfastly on the sun when shining in his meridian
splendour thus reminding us of those numerous officials,
whose watchful eyes can discover everything even when hid
den in the most secret places, which may serve as food for
the cravings of their master s insatiable appetite.
Again, in the proverb, "Sileni Alcibiadis,"* he first
shows that, just as the unprepossessing images of Silenus,
the foster-father of Bacchus, seen in ancient Greece, to
which Alcibiades compared Socrates, when the outside was
removed, disclosed the features of a god to the astonished
and delighted view, so many things and persons which
appear to be mean and insignificant are really worthy of our
highest admiration ; and then he proceeds to present a reverse
to the picture, and to show that appearances are deceitful also
as to many objects and classes of men which appear beautiful,
and deserving of all the praise which we can bestow upon
them. " If you look, for instance, at the mitres of some of
our bishops, glittering with gold and with gems, their
jewelled pastoral staff, and all their mystic panoply, you
would expect to find them more than men ; but if you open
the Silenus, you will find within only a soldier, a trader, or
a tyrant. Take again the case of those whom you may meet
with everywhere. If you look at their shaggy beard, their
pale face, their cowl, their bent heads, their girdle, their
sour looks, you would say that they were remarkable for
their piety ; but if you look inside the Silenus, you will find
only rogues, gluttons, impostors, debauchees, robbers, and
tyrants. ... A similar mistake is made as to names. " We
call," he says, " priests, bishops, and popes the Church, al-
* Op., torn. ii. p. 770 C., sqq., edit. Lugcl.
SILENI ALCIBIADIS. 57
though they are only ministers of the Church ; for the
Church is the whole Christian people. And of the Church
we say that she appears in honour and splendour, not
when piety is increased and vice is diminished, when good
morals are prevalent and true doctrine flourishes, but when
the altars are embellished with gold and jewels ; or rather
when, religion being totally neglected, the prelates rival
temporal lords in lands, domestics, in luxury, in mules, in
horses, in houses, or rather in palaces, in everything that
makes a show and a noise. This is thought so just a man
ner of thinking and speaking, that even in papal bulls these
encomiums may be found : Forasmuch as Cardinal A., by
his sumptuous equipage, and numerous train of horses and
domestics, does singular honour to the Church of Christ, we
think it right to add to his preferments another bishopric. "
He afterwards proceeds by an obvious and easy transition
to speak against the wealth and temporal power of the
Pope. He says that, while he wishes that priests should
reign, he considers that earthly dominion is unworthy of
the heavenly calling ; that while he desires that they should
be rich, it must be with the gospel pearl, with the heavenly
riches. " Why," he says, " should you sully their purity
with the defilements of the world ? Why do you estimate
the successor of Peter by that wealth which Peter himself
boasts that he does not possess ?* Why do you wish the
vicars of Christ to be entangled with the riches which
Christ Himself has called thorns ?"t He then proceeds to
show that an ecclesiastical government must be greatly
prejudicial to the welfare of its subjects. One of the rea
sons which he assigns is, that as the Popes know from their
advanced age that their tenure of power must be short, and
that their dominions cannot descend to their posterity, they
will labour chiefly for the aggrandizement of their families,
* Acts iii. 6. t Matt. xiii. 22.
58 THE ENCHIRIDION.
and the promotion of their own private interests, and will
create offices for their relations which will absorb the
revenues of the state. Thus, then, Erasmus describes that
system of management which, continued through successive
ages, had, like the deadly night-shade, shed a pestilential
blight over the land. Thus, even while speaking of ancient
literature, he lost no opportunity of censuring those corrup
tions which had now become intensified to a degree beyond
the possibility of human endurance.
From some letters written about this time it appears that
he intended to publish the works of St. Jerome, and that he
was quite delighted with this father, whom he greatly extols ;
and in a sort of ecstasy promises himself the assistance of the
saint in this laborious undertaking.* He published in 1503
his justly celebrated "Enchiridion," to which reference has
been already made. Erasmus has informed us of the occasion
on which he composed this book, in a letter to Botzhem, con
taining a catalogue of his works. t He and Battus had a
friend staying in the castle of Tournahens at the time
mentioned above, who had a wife of singular piety. He
was a man of very bad character, and treated his wife
with great inhumanity. As she saw that Erasmus was the
only theologian for whom lie had the least respect, she
asked Battus to request him to write something which
might be the means of effecting a reformation in him. He
was not, however, to inform him that he had done so at her
instigation. Erasmus at once complied with his request,
and wrote the " Enchiridion, the Christian Soldier s Dagger,
or Manual,"J a name probably derived from the military
* Jortin s "Life of Eras., vol. i. p. 17.
t Eras. Epist. Botzliemo, given in Jortin s "Life of Eras.," vol. ii.
p. 428.
J He gives tins meaning in the following words, Op., torn. v. p.
10, edit. Bas. : " As you would doubtless be glad of help from us we
THE ENCHIRIDION. 59
profession of the man for whose benefit it was intended.
Unfortunately it did not produce the desired effect upon
him. He said that there was much more holiness in the
book than in the author. At first it had no sale. The
Dominicans, however, afterwards increased the circulation
of it by raising a clamour against it. They were very
angry with Erasmus, because he condemned those who made
religion consist in the performance of outward rites and
ceremonies, while they altogether denied the power of god
liness. We are informed that in the library of the Domini
cans of St. John and St. Paul at Venice, there are two rows
of wooden statues, one of the Eoman Catholic, the other of
the heretical doctors. Among the latter stands Erasmus,
loaded with chains, and covered with labels full of re
proaches against him, as also against Luther and Calvin ;
but those who were more moderate were content to repre
sent him as suspended between heaven and hell.*
The best proof that the " Enchiridion " was considered as
a means of aiding the progress of the Eeformation, is to be
found in the fact, that while at first it had a limited circu
lation, no sooner had Luther begun his work than it became
,a favourite with his followers, and passed through numerous
editions. It was translated into Italian, French, Spanish,
German, and English. The translation into the last lan
guage was made by the celebrated Tyndale. It was after
wards re-issued in an abridged form by Coverdale. It was
read in Spain even by the Emperor Charles V., as well as
by all orders of the community. t The printers could not
print it quickly enough to meet the demand for it.t It
have forged an Enchiridion, or Little Dagger, which you should
not lay down, even at your meals, or during your sleeping hours."
* Jortin s Life of Erasmus," vol. ii. p. 67.
f Vives Erasmo, Op., torn. iii. p. 538., edit. Bas.
J Joannes Maldonatus Erasmo, Op., torn. iii. p. 713, edit. Lugd.
CO THE ENCHIRIDION.
afterwards ceased to be popular in Spain, because it was
found to promote the progress of the Reformation ; and it
was condemned by the Sorbonne in 1543, and was burnt
by order of the Parliament of Paris, with many other pro
hibited books.
An examination of this celebrated work will enable us to
see clearly the position which Erasmus occupied from the
very first with reference to the great questions which were
shortly to agitate Christendom.* We shall thus discover
hereafter that he never swerved from the opinions expressed
on points of doctrine at the beginning of his memorable
career. We can easily see how this work must have aided
the Reformation. To this point we shall return in a future
chapter. Meanwhile we may observe, that very little im
portance is attached in it to the distinctive views of Rom
anists. He condemned the folly of those who hoped by
pilgrimages, or by " parchments sealed with wax, or by a
small sum of money, to be purified from their guilt ; t he
insists on the wortklessness of all outward observances, and
acts of piety and charity, when the heart and life are un
holy ; he reminds the Romanists of his clay that they
" must not consider how many psalms they murmur, nor
think that much speaking is a merit in prayer / and that
it is not the prayer uttered with the lips, but the ardent
one from the heart, which reaches the ears of God.J
But while we admit that by the expression of these
opinions he promoted the progress of the Reformation, we
may gather from this work that he did not hold those
which Luther and his associates considered to be the funda
mental doctrines of Christianity. He does, indeed, allude
to Adam s transgression, and to our redemption by Christ
Jesus ; but he does not make these truths the foundation of
* Op., torn. v. p. 1, sqcj., edit. Bas.
t P. 32. P. 7.
THE ENCHIRIDION. 61
his system. He does not hold with Luther that man is
averse from good, and inclined only to evil ; and that he
has naturally neither the power nor the inclination to enter
on the path of holy obedience. On the contrary, he main
tains that " the soul, mindful of its heavenly birth, with the
greatest energy mounts upwards and strives with its earthly
incumbrance."* He also says that " in man reason dis
charges the duties of a king ; that divine counsellor presid
ing in its lofty citadel, mindful of its origin, does not admit
a thought of baseness nor impurity."t We shall find that
he held the same view many years afterwards, when we
speak of his treatise on the freedom of the will. He does
indeed teach us that " faith is the only gate to Christ ;"J
but then he also states that those " go straight to Christ
who aim at virtue only," and that by Christ he understands
"not an unmeaning word, but love, singleness, patience,
purity :" in short, all those virtues and excellences which
most dignify and adorn human nature. In fact we see
here, as we shall see more particularly hereafter, that his
great object is to inculcate the practical part of Christianity.
The faith here spoken of has reference, not to the Saviour s
righteousness, but to God s promises and threatenings as
they are brought before us in the Scriptures ; to the " far
more exceeding and eternal weight of glory," reserved for
the righteous in the mansions of the blessed, and to the
never-ending misery which awaits the impenitent in the
regions of despair. We learn also from this treatise that he
held the meritoriousness of good works; for, speaking of the
sorrows and difficulties of the Christian, he says, " These
all will be added to the sum of your merits, if they shall
find you in the way of Christ / || and that he could not
accept that doctrine of justification by faith in Christ s
* P. 12. f P. 13. J P. 19. P. 22. ! P. 21.
62 THE ENCHIRIDION.
righteousness, which Luther calls the article of a standing
or falling church.
While we notice this divergence from the views of the
reformers, we cannot fail to observe that this treatise is
remarkable for the spirit of piety which breathes throughout
it, and that it contains some important practical precepts.
He represents, for instance, in the following striking and
beautiful passage, prayer and knowledge as the weapons to
be wielded by us if we would conquer in that terrible con
flict with the world, the flesh, and the devil, which all the
sworn soldiers of the cross must maintain as long as they
continue in the tabernacle of the flesh : " Paul wishes us to
be armed when he tells us to pray without ceasing. The
devout prayer raises the affections to Heaven, a citadel
inaccessible to our enemies. . . . Always, therefore, remem
ber, as soon as the enemy assails you, when the sins which
you have forsaken tempt you, to lift up your heart with
confidence to Heaven, from whence succour will come to
you. . . . But you must not despise the assistance of know
ledge. Believe me, my dearest brother, that there is no
assault of the enemy, however violent, no temptation, how
ever strong, which a diligent study of the Scriptures cannot
enable you to overcome ; no affliction, however heavy,
which it cannot give you strength to endure. 7 * But still it is
perfectly evident that he holds that this victory over the
Tempter, the diligent endeavour also to walk in the path
of virtue, and to exhibit a transcript, however faint, of
those excellences which shone forth with unimpaired and
undiminished brightness in the all-perfect character of our
divine Master, are the only means by which we can obtain
that imperishable reward which shall be conferred on all
those who have been faithful unto death on the great day of
the Redeemer s appearing.
* Pp. G, 7. r
SECOND VISIT TO ENGLAND. 63
CHAPTER IV.
SECOND VISIT TO ENGLAND. JOURNEY TO ITALY. DESCRIP
TION OF GERMAN INNS RETURN TO ENGLAND. THE
"PRAISE OF FOLLY." A.D. 1505 1510.
AT the close of 1505 Erasmus again paid a visit to England.
He was received with open arms by his little band of
Oxford friends, and took up his abode at More s house.
He was at this time the greatest Transalpine scholar.
Budaeus surpassed him in Greek, but he had no rival in
Latin. Just before his departure from Paris he had given
a plain proof that he was continuing his Biblical studies by
bringing out an edition of Laurentius Valla s " Annotations
upon the New Testament/ in a letter prefixed to which he
boldly expressed the opinion that the Vulgate was mani
festly at fault, and ought to be corrected.* He seemed,
however, after his arrival in England, not to be very eager
about theological literature. We find him busily engaged
with his friend More in translating Lucian into Latin.t
* Eras. C. Fischero, Op., torn. iii. p. 190, edit. Bas.
t Some of the private friends, referred to afterwards, to whom he
dedicated parts of the work, were Archbishop "Warham ; Dr. Richard
Fox, Bishop of Winchester ; Thomas Rutkall, afterwards Bishop of
Durham ; and Christopher Ursewick, for many years chaplain to
Henry VII. To the first he dedicated several pieces ; to the second
" Toxaris, or Friendship ;" to the third " Timon, or the Misanthro
pist ;" to the fourth the "Mycillus."
64* DECLAMATION AGAINST LUCIAN.
Yv r e might almost imagine that More had diverted his
thoughts from that which he considered at present to be
the great business of his life ; for he persuaded him to
write at the same time with himself, in order to exercise
their skill, a declamation in Latin against Lucian s " Pro
Tyrannicide." Erasmus sent his part, with a dedication,
to a friend, Richard Whitford, chaplain to Lord Mountjoy,
telling him that having been for some years wholly occupied
with the study of the Greek language, he had attempted a
little Essay in Latin, by the advice or impulse of Mr. More,
a man of so much eloquence that he could persuade even an
enemy to do anything for him, much more a friend like
Erasmus, who loved him so much that if he were to direct
him to dance, or to do anything else, he should immediately
obey him. He adds, " He has a tongue equal to his wit, a
vqry agreeable manner, a great deal of smartness, but yet
on the candid and inoffensive side only, so that nothing is
wanting to make him the best advocate in the present
age."-
But Erasmus was really prosecuting his design with
an unfaltering purpose. He had long felt that, before he
could translate the New Testament into Latin, he must
improve himself in Greek. He says, in a letter written
some years after he left Oxford, that he had determined to
devote himself to theological studies, and ; had attempted to
write an explanation of St. Paul s Epistle to the Romans,
but that he had been obliged to abandon his design for the
present, as he could do nothing without the Greek lan
guage, t In early life he had not learnt any more of it
than the alphabet, i He had, indeed, as we have seen,
* Op., torn. i. p. 228, edit. Bas.
t Epist. Coleto, Op., torn. iii. p. 351, edit. Bas.
J Epist. Antonio a Bergis, Abbate S. Bertini, Op., torn. iii. p. 325,
edit. Bas.
STUDY OF GREEK. 65
studied it at Oxford ; but still we find tliat he had brought
away little more than a love of the language from that
University. From a letter to his friend Battus we learn
that he had applied himself very diligently to Greek at
Paris ; that his hard work had almost killed him; and that
he had no money to buy books, or to employ a master.*
We are also informed that he had made very little progress
in it in that city, and that he had been his own master, hav
ing improved himself by translating Greek authors ; for the
Professor, George Hermonymus, was neither able nor willing
to teach it.t He had therefore resolved, when he arrived in
England, to translate Lucian, in the sale of which he endea
voured to interest private friends by [dedicating portions of the
work to them, as well as to engage in other occupations which
served to withdraw him from sacred duties, not only that he
might improve himself in Greek, but also that he might raise
money enough to enable him to carry out a design which, as
we have seen, he had been compelled to abandon, and to pay
a visit to Italy, where he hoped to be instructed in Greek by
some of those emigrants who, after the fall of Constantinople,
were unfolding the beauties of its authors to the astonished
and delighted view of the inhabitants of that country.
He also in other ways endeavoured to raise money for the
accomplishment of his object. He gives an amusing account
of a visit which he paid to Warham, Archbishop of Canter
bury, for that purpose. This was the beginning of their ac
quaintance. The latter seems to have received him very
kindly, to have invited him to dinner, and to have had some
conversation with him. Erasmus presented to him a Latin
translation of the Hecuba of Euripides, which he had dedi
cated to him. On rising to take leave, Warham made him a
* Eras. Epist. Batto suo. Knight s Life.
t Eras. Catalogus operum ab ipso conscriptus, Tom. priino pne-
fixus. Edit. Bas.
5
66 VISIT TO AECHBISHOP WARHAM.
present in money, but privately, in order, as he said, that he
might not excite the envy of others. While he was returning
in the boat from Lambeth Palace with Grocyn, who had intro
duced him to the archbishop, his friend asked him how much
he had given him. Erasmus answered in a jesting tone, " An
immense sum." Observing a smile on Grocyn s counte
nance, he said, " Do you think that the Archbishop has so
mean a spirit that he should not be willing, or so small an
income that he should not be able, to make me a handsome
present ? or do you think that the book deserves no great
acknowledgment ?" At last he told him what Warham had
really given to him. On expressing his surprise that he had
not given him more, Grocyn told him that the reason was
that the archbishop thought that he had dedicated the work
to some other patron in another country. Having been
asked how he could imagine that he had done so, he an
swered in a tone of derision, " Why, you are accustomed to
do so " meaning that needy travellers often acted in this
manner.*
Erasmus appears to have spent some months of the spring
of 1506 with his friends in this country. He now found
that, through their kindness, he could at length pay
his long-wished-for visit to Italy. An arrangement was
made that he should take with him as his companions two
sons of Doctor Baptista, physician to Henry VIII. He was
also to have under his care Alexander, Archbishop of St.
Andrews, natural son to James, King of Scotland. He
found him pursuing his studies at Padua. Both in that city,
and afterwards when they met at Sienna, he took charge of
his instruction. In his "Adages "(he has given a high charac
ter of him, and in his Treatise " de Conscribendis Epistolis,"
* Erasmi Catalogus Lucubrationmn, prsefixus Op. toin. primo.
Eras. Joanni Botzhemo. Edit. Bas.
DESCRIPTION OP GERMAN INNS. 67
he calls him "a young man of genius and of great pro~
mise."* He was a student of rhetoric, Greek, law, divinity,
music; remarkable for his beauty, and of an amiable dis
position. On his return to Scotland, he was slain by his
father s side at the battle of Flodden Field. t Erasmus
hoped, by taking charge of these pupils, to pay his travelling
expenses. Thus he left England and proceeded on his
journey, having, before his departure from Paris, expressed
an earnest hope in his letters to his friends that, he should
soon return, never more to be separated from them.
On his way to Italy, Erasmus passed through Germany,
accompanied by those who had been placed under his care.
They were gentle youths, and easily managed ; but their
attendant, who looked after their conduct, was rude and
troublesome. The connection soon terminated. As to
his experience of men and manners at the German inns
where he lodged every night after his toilsome journey on
horseback, Erasmus was indebted for many of the ideas
which he has worked out in his remarkable satire, " The-
Praise of Folly," it may be well to give a translation
of a Latin conversation respecting them in his Colloquy,
" Diversoria."J The persons who converse are Bertulphus
and Gulielmus :
Gru. I have never visited Germany : I should be much
obliged to you therefore to inform me how the inhabitants
receive a guest.
Ber. I do not know whether they have everywhere the
same way of entertaining visitors ; I will tell you what I have
seen myself. No one bids his guests welcome, lest he should
* Op. torn. i. p. 313. Edit. Bas. " Adolescens ingeniosus, miroeque
spei."
t " Jortin s Life," vol. i; p. 292.
J Op. torn. i. p. 603, edit. Bas.
52
68 DESCRIPTION OF GEEMAN INNS.
seem to want them to come to the inn ; for they consider
such a proceeding mean, and not becoming to the German
gravity. When you have called for a long time, at length
some one puts his head out of the oven window (for they
commonly live in ovens till Midsummer), like a tortoise from
under its shell. Him you must ask if you can have accom
modation there. If he does not say no, you are to under
stand that you can have it. When you ask where the stable
is, he points to it. There you must groom your own horse
in your own way, for not a servant will stir to help you.
If the inn should be one of note, the servant will show you
the stable ; but you will not find in it proper accommodation
for your horse. The best stalls are kept for future visitors,
especially for the nobility. If you make any objection, you
are immediately told that you may go to another inn. In
the cities you get hay with great difficulty and in very small
quantities, and as much is charged for it as for oats. When
you have taken care of your horse, you may go to a room
heated like an oven, along with boots, baggage, and filth.
That is the place to which all must go.
Gu. In France they show you bedchambers, where you
may take off your clothes, make yourself clean, warm your
self, or rest if you like.
Ber. Here you find nothing of the kind. In the room
just mentioned you take off your boots, you put on your
shoes, you change your shirt if you wish to do so, you hang
up your dripping garments near the fire, you come to it to
dry yourself. You can have water there if you wish to
wash your hands, but very often it is so dirty that you must
ask for some more to wash away what it leaves behind it.
Gu. I think well of men who are not effeminate.
Ber. If you arrive at four o clock in the afternoon, you
will not have your supper till nine, sometimes not till ten.
Gu.Why so ?
DESCRIPTION OP GERMAN INNS. 69
Ber. They will get nothing ready till they see all their
visitors. The same trouble must do for all.
Gu. They gain by this way of managing matters.
Ber. Yes. In the same oven are often assembled eighty
or ninety footmen, riders, merchants, sailors, coachmen, hus
bandmen, children, women, sick, and sound.
GIL This is having all things common.
Ber. -There one combs his hair, another wipes away the
sweat from his skin, another cleans his shoes or boots,
another spits out garlic. In short, there is the same confu
sion of tongues and of persons there as there was formerly
in the building of Babel. If they see a foreigner, whose de
portment shows him to be a man of quality, all keep their
eyes fixed upon him, looking at him as if he were a new kind
of strange animal brought from Africa; and when they are set
at table, and he behind them, they will still be looking back
at him and staring at him till they have forgotten their supper.
It is a great sin to ask for anything. When it is late in the
evening, and no more guests are expected, an old servant,
of a forbidding aspect, with a white beard, with his hair cut
short, and in mean apparel, comes in. He looks round, and
counts to himself the number in the oven. The more there
are, the hotter the oven is made. If any one not accustomed
to the steam should open the window ever so little, fearing
suffocation, immediately he hears him crying out, "Shut
it." If you say that you cannot bear it, you are told to
go to another inn. . . . Presently in comes our bearded
Ganymede, and covers the tables with as many napkins as
there are guests ; not damask ones, but such as you would
take to be made out of old sails. He places at least eight
at each table. Those who know the custom of the country
sit down where they please ; for no difference is made be
tween prince and peasant, between master and servant.
"When all have taken their seats, that sour-looking Gany-
70 DESCRIPTION OP GERMAN INNS.
mede again comes in, and counts his company over again.
Soon returning, he puts "before each a wooden dish, and a
spoon of the same silver, and then a glass, and then, a little
afterwards, some bread, which the guests may wipe over and
over again at their leisure while the porridge is boiling.
Thus sometimes they sit for nearly an hour.
GIL Do none of the guests in the meantime call out for
food?
Ber. No one who knows the custom of the country. Then
the wine is produced words cannot describe its sourness.
If any one should offer money privately, and should ask for
another sort of wine, they at first deny that they have it,
looking at him all the time as if they would kill him ; if you
press them for it, they answer, Marquises and counts have
lodged here, and no one has complained of my wine : if you
do not like it, go to another inn." Then, as the guests are very
hungry, hunches of bread are given to them. Afterwards,
with great pomp, come the dishes. Commonly the first con
tains pieces of bread steeped in broth made of flesh, or, if it
is a fish day, in soup made of pulse. Afterwards comes in
another soup, and then a dish of butcher s meat that has
been twice boiled, or salt meats warmed again, and then
pulse again, and afterwards some more solid food. Then,
when the cravings of hunger are satisfied, they bring some
roast meat or stewed fish, not altogether to be despised, but
in small quantities, and these dishes are soon taken away.
You give great offence if you say, " Take away this dish, no
one wants it." You must sit for the time appointed, which is
measured by an hour-glass. Afterwards a better wine is
produced. Great drinkers have the best of it ; for hejwho
drinks much pays no more than he who drinks scarcely
any.
Gu. Who ever heard of such a thing !
Ber. Some drink a quantity of wine that costs more
DESCRIPTION OF GEKMAN INNS. 71
than twice as much as their supper. You would be aston
ished if you heard the confusion when they have become
somewhat the worse for liquor. Buffoons, that most detest
able set of men, often mingle with the company. You will
perhaps scarcely believe me when I tell you that the Ger
mans are very partial to them. They sing, chatter, shout,
jump, and knock, so that you would fancy that the room
was going to fall in. You cannot hear what any one says to
you. They think this a pleasant way of living ; and you
must sit, whether you wish it or not, till late at night. . . .
At length, when the cheese is taken away, which scarcely
pleases them unless it be putrid and full of maggots, the
bearded fellow of whom I have spoken comes in again,
carrying a trencher, marked with circles and semi-circles in
chalk, which he places on the table. He says nothing, and
looks so grim that you might fancy him to be Charon.
Those who understand the meaning of this put down their
money one after another till the trencher is full. Having
taken notice of those who lay down, he reckons it up him
self, and if all be paid, he gives you a nod.
GIL But what if there should be anything over and
above ?
Ber. Perhaps he will give it you again ; and they some
times do.
Gu. Does no one find fault with the reckoning ?
Ber. No one that is wise; for they will at once say,
" What sort of a man are you ? You pay no more than the
rest."
Gu. That is plain speaking, at any rate.
fier. If any one tired with his journey wishes to go to
bed after supper, he is told that he must wait till the others
are ready to do so. Then each is shown to his bed-chamber ;
and in truth it is rightly so named, for there is only a bed
in it, and nothing else which you can use or steal. There
72 ARRIVAL IN ITALY.
is the same dirt in it as in the inn ; the sheets were washed
perhaps six months ago.
Gu t What in the meantime becomes of the horses ?
Ber. They are treated in the same manner as the men.
Gii. Are all the inns the same 1
]$ ert Some are better, some are worse than those which
I have described, but this is the general character of them. . .
Thus, then, this sickly scholar, who needed to be well
fed and well tended, was treated on his journey to Italy.
Though he was not more than forty years old, he al
ready felt, in consequence of hard work, the infirmities of
old age creeping upon him, as he complains in a beautiful
Latin poem, forming a contrast in regard to beauty to his
other poems, addressed to William Cope, a physician, which
he composed on horseback as he was crossing the Alps.* He
afterwards wrote it out at the inn where he stopped for the
night. He says that his head is sprinkled with gray hairs,
and that his chin, fast becoming white, warns him that the
spring-time of life has passed away, and that the winter of
old age is rapidly approaching.
Soon after his arrival in Italy he took the degree of Doc
tor of Divinity at the University of Turin, where he resided
for some weeks. He then went to Bologna. He had hardly
arrived when the city was besieged by Pope Julius, of whose
warlike enterprises, and their effect on his mind, I shall
speak hereafter. He then went to Florence, and returned
to Bologna to see the triumphal entry of the pope into the
city. He constantly expressed afterwards his strong disap
proval of the pomp exhibited by the head of the Roman
Catholic Church on that occasion. Here he remained rather
more than a year, with the exception of a short visit to
Rome in the spring of 1507.
In the beginning of 1508 he proceeded to Venice to superin-
* Op. torn. iv. p. 755, edit. Lugd.
RESIDENCE AT VENICE, PADUA, AND ROME. 7&
tend the printing of a third edition of his - Adages," at which
he had been working for some time, by the celebrated
printer, Aldus. Here he occupied the same room with
Aleander, afterwards the uncompromising opponent of Lu
ther and the Reformation, of whom I shall speak in a
future chapter. His friendship for Erasmus was, as we shall
see hereafter, changed into bitter enmity. Here, for nine
months, he was engaged in incessant labour. He passed the
winter at Padua, as I have said, with his pupil, the Arch
bishop of St. Andrew s, from which place he moved with him
to Sienna. He went to Rome in the spring of 1509, and
there was warmly welcomed. The pope promised him at
some future time a place among his penitentiaries, usually
considered a post of much honour and emolument. He
was also introduced to the Cardinal de Medici, afterwards
Leo X., and formed other friendships which were of
service to him. "He was taken into the protection of
Raphael, Cardinal of St. George, and at his persuasion was
put upon a very ungrateful task, to declaim backwards and
forwards on the same argument ; first to dissuade from un
dertaking a war against the Venetians, arid then to exhort
to the said war upon the pope s changing his holy mind."*
The second declamation was obviously very discreditable to
him.
While he was at Bologna he very nearly lost his life. I
shall give his own account of what happened to him, ex
tracted from the letter to Grunnius, containing the history
of his early life which has been given in the second chapter
of this work.t " Some time afterwards the love of study
induced him to go to a foreign country. According to the
custom of the French, he wore a white linen scapulary over
" :: " Knight s "Life of Erasmus," p. 105.
t Op. torn. iii. p. 919, edit. Bas.
74 IN DANGER AT BOLOGNA.
his dress, thinking that it was not unusual to do so there.
But twice he was in danger of losing his life, because sur
geons who attend people stricken with the plague wear
a white linen scarf over their left shoulder, which hangs
down in front and behind, that they may be easily seen, and
may be avoided by all who meet and who follow them. If
they did not walk through deserted streets, the people would
run together and would stone them. . : : Once when Flo-
rentius happened to be visiting a learned friend, two officers
whom he met, drawing their swords, and using words which
showed their murderous intentions, would have slain him, if
a matron, who was fortunately passing by, had not told them
that it was not the dress of a surgeon, but of an ecclesiastic.
They did not, however, desist from shouting after him, and
did not return their swords to their scabbards till he had
knocked at the door of a neighbouring house, and had been
admitted inside it.
" Another day he was going to see some friends who be
longed to his own country, when suddenly a large crowd
assembled, armed with stones and clubs, who, in a transport
of rage, shouted out to one another, l Kill the dog ! kill the
dog ! In the meantime he met a priest, who, with a smile,
said to him in a low tone, and in Latin, Asses ! asses !
While they were making this outcry, presently a very ele
gant young man, in a purple cloak, came out of a house.
Morentius fled to him as to an altar ; for he was altogether
ignorant of the language of the country, and wondered what
they wanted. Let me tell you, he said, that if you do
not leave off that white badge you will some day be stoned
to death. Mind what I say j I give you fair warning ! He
did not leave it off, but covered it with his robe ! Good
God ! what a tragedy was likely to arise from no cause what
ever !"
This incident was assigned as one reason for the applica-
INTRODUCTION- TO CARDINAL GRIMANI. 7o
tion addressed to the pope to release him from his monastic
vows. The pope to whom Grunnius presented the epistle
was not Julius II., but Leo. X. Erasmus says in this epistle
that he had before obtained of the pope (that is, of Julius
II.) leave to accommodate his habit to the custom of the
places where he should sojourn." Here then we have the
conclusion of the romantic story in the second chapter. It
ended in an appeal to the pope, which was successful, that
he might change the habit of a friar for that of a secular
priest.
The following amusing story of his introduction to Cardi
nal Dominic Grimani will show the estimation in which he
was held at Rome.t , The cardinal had sent him word that
he should be glad to see him. He called one afternoon,
and having left his horse with the servant, went in alone.
He walked through two or three rooms without seeing any
one. At length, in the fourth room he met a Greek who
asked him his business. On telling him that he had called
at the request of the cardinal, he was informed that he was
conversing with some gentlemen. Erasmus said immedi
ately that he would not disturb him, and that he would
shortly call again. He then went to look out at a window.
" At last," to use his own words, " he asked me my name,
and I told him, upon which he slipped away unperceived
by me, and, returning, desired me not to go. In a minute
after I was called in. The cardinal received me, not as such
a one as he might have received a person of my low station,
but as though I had been one of his colleagues. He ordered
me a chair, and we conversed together for more than two
hours, nor would he suffer me to be uncovered a surprising
civility from a man of his dignity ! Amongst several things
relating to learning, in which he showed great skill, he gave
* Jortin, vol. i. p. 625.
t Ibid. p. 29.
76 DETERMINATION TO LEAVE ITALY.
me an account of an intention to collect a library, which I
hear he has since executed. He exhorted me not to leave
Borne, a place where men of genius were encouraged. He
offered me his own house, and told me that the air of Borne,
being warm and moist, would suit my constitution, that his
residence was situated in the most healthy part of the city,
and that a certain pope had on that account built the palace
in which he lived. After much conversation he called in his
nephew, who was already an archbishop, and was of a pro
mising genius. As I offered to rise, the cardinal would not
let me, and said that the disciple ought to stand in the pre
sence of his master. Then he showed me his library, well
stored with authors of different languages. Had I known
him sooner, I should never have quitted Borne, where I
found more favour than I deserved but I was then deter
mined to go, and it was not in my power to stay."
The fact was that Erasmus felt that he could not take up
his abode in Italy. He states, in a letter to a friend, that a
land of ceremonies and a land of inquisition was no proper
habitation for a man of a temper so open and free/" He had
another reason for not caring to stay in Italy. He had
come to it, as he writes to Servatius, chiefly to perfect him
self in the Greek language ; but he had been unsuccessful on
account of the wars which prevailed in that country. t By
his own account, too, of Pope Julius, he seems to have found
so little sincerity at Borne that he was little inclined to
remain in that city. He and his cardinals thought only of
political intrigue and of warlike operations, and cared nothing
about religion or literature. He has made, as we shall see
presently, the ambition and military spirit of Julius the sub
ject of his satire in the " Praise of Folly." Impressed with
the conviction just referred to, he seems to have considered as
* Jortin s " Life of Erasmus," vol. i. p. 31.
t Knight s "Life of Erasmus," p. 89.
RETURN TO ENGLAND. 77
a providential call an invitation to return to England sent to
him by Lord Mountjoy, dated May 27th, 1497 (a manifest
error for 1509). He was led to expect great favours from
Henry VIII. , who had just ascended the throne. When he
asked a friend at Rome if he should accept the invitation,
and whether the papal court would make him higher offers,
he was told that he could not be encouraged to stay, as there
was very little probability that his merits would be re
warded. Accordingly he accepted the proposal, and travel
ling back by the same route by which he came, returned to
England between the autumn of 1509 and June, 1510.
But though the visit of Erasmus to Italy was not directly
serviceable to him in regard to the enlargement of his know
ledge of the Greek language, yet in another way it produced
important consequences. It led to the composition of that
remarkable satire, " M&W Ey^w/^/ov," or the " Praise of
Folly," which, by its lively and stinging exhibition of the
absurdities and vices of many of the ecclesiastics of the
Church of Rome, may be considered as having directly aided
the cause of the Reformation. 1 This work is one of the
most remakable satires the world has ever seen. It is full
of wit. and embodies his views of men and manners
formed not only in the course of his travels, but also
during his residence in Italy. As it was the rule of his life
never to lose any time, and as he would not, as he says in
the Introduction, give his mind to abstruse meditations while
he was riding across the country on horseback, he employed
himself in meditating this work, and wrote down his
thoughts at the inn at the end of the day s journey. The
Greek title was derived from the name of his friend More,
to whom he dedicated it. He called it so, not because he
was that which this word expresses, for he was, in the judg
ment of all men, as far removed from it as possible, but be-
* Op. torn. iv. p. 352, edit. Bas.
78 THE PEAISE OF FOLLT.
cause he was fond of a joke, and took delight in any produc
tion which was seasoned with real wit. It appears to have
been finished in a week, soon after his return to England,
at More s house, in Bucklersbury, London, when he was ill,
and could not apply himself closely to his studies. He an
ticipates a charge which might be brought against it, that the
work was of too trifling a character for a theologian, and was
too sarcastic for a Christian. He asks why the student alone
of all men should not be allowed to amuse himself in this
manner, especially when what he says has a serious tendency,
and he so handles his humorous subject that the reader shall
derive more benefit from it than from a heavy discourse
worked out in a very argumentative manner. " For as you
certainly lay yourself open to the charge of trifling when you
treat of sacred subjects in a trifling spirit, so nothing tends
more to edification than, even when you are writing in a vein
of pleasant humour, not to seem to have been trifling at all.
To the charge of stinging sarcasm I make this answer, that
men of genius have always been allowed to be witty about
any transactions of life, provided they keep within the
bounds of moderation. For the religion of some is of so ab
surd a character, that they can bear to hear evil words spoken
against Christ, but object to the least raillery directed against
the pope or a king. He who censures the conduct of the
world without mentioning any one by name, seems to me
rather to teach and to warn than to bite by his sarcasm. Be
sides, he who spares no class is clearly angry, not with any
one individual, but with sin in general. So if any one
should complain that he is reflected upon, he will show that
he is conscious that he deserves censure, or at least that he
is afraid of it. Besides abstaining altogether from giving
names, I have so tempered my style that the wise reader will
easily understand that I have endeavoured to^give pleasure
rather than pain."
THE PEAISE OF FOLLY. 79
Folly is then represented as giving an address to her fol
lowers. She begins by enumerating the benefits which she
everywhere confers. She then speaks of the universality of
her worship.*
"The whole world is my very beautiful temple. I have
worshippers wherever the human race is to be found. I am
not so foolish as to be adored by proxy, and to have my
honour bestowed intermediately on senseless images and
pictures, which are sometimes injurious to worship, when
ignorant people make no distinction between the things them
selves and the objects which they represent. In the mean
time custom does for me what it usually does for those who
find their place usurped by their representatives. I think
that there are as many statues erected to me as there are
men in the world who, even against their will, carry my
image stamped on their countenances. I have therefore no
reason to envy the other gods, because one is worshipped in
one corner of the world, another in another, and that too on
stated days as Apollo at Khodes, Venus in Cyprus, Juno at
Argos, Minerva at Athens, Jupiter on Olympus, Neptune at
Tareutum, Priapus at Lampsacus when the whole world is
my altar, on which the most valuable incense and sacrifice
are continually offered up. As I may seem to some to speak
with greater boldness than truth, I will ask you to examine
with me the lives of men, that you may plainly see how much
they owe to me, and how much the least as well as the great
est value me. We will not review the lives of all, for that
would be a tedious task, but only of the principal classes,
from whom we may easily form an opinion of the others/ . . .
After having shown by several instances how much she
contributes to the enjoyment of life, she speaks of those
whose minds, by a harmless mistake in the judgment of things,
are freed, from those cares which would otherwise afflict them,
* Page 372.
80 THE PRAISE OF FOLLY.
and possess a satisfaction which they could not otherwise
enjoy. She mentions, by way of illustration, those who look
down with contempt on every occupation except hunting,
and who "find the greatest pleasure in hearing the sound of
horns, and the barking of dogs."" Folly is then repre
sented as saying, " How great is their delight when a wild
beast is to be killed ! The common people may kill bulls and
sheep ; it is a crime for any one but a nobleman to kill the
animal just mentioned. He, with bare head, with bent knees,
with a hanger designed for the purpose (for a common knife
is not good enough), and with certain ceremonies (for it is
a sin to do it in any way but one), cuts certain limbs in a
certain order. The crowd standing round silently gazes in
wonder, as if at a new and sacred spectacle, although they
have seen it more than a thousand times before. He who
tastes a small portion of the flesh fancies that he has become
a nobleman. Thus while with this continual slaughter of
these animals and feasting on them, they almost become wild
beasts themselves, they think that they are leading a life
truly royal."
Folly afterwards gives the following description of the
gamblerst : " I have a little doubt whether the gamblers
ought to be admitted to our college. But yet it seems to
me very ridiculous to see some so addicted to this amuse
ment, that as soon as they hear the sound of the dice, their
hearts begin to beat. When, led on by the hope of winning,
they have made shipwreck of all their property, and their
ship is dashed on the rock of a game of hazard, far more to
be dreaded than the rock of Malea, assuredly they must be
considered as utterly wanting in wisdom. What shall we say
when we see old men playing when they can scarcely see, and
their eyes are beginning to be glazed 1 or what of those who,
when the gout deprives them of the[use of their fingers, pay a
* Page 368. t Page 368.
THE PEAISE OP FOLLY. 81
man to put the dice for them into the dice-box 1 A pleasant
occupation, truly ! but with this drawback, that the game
often leads to madness, and so belongs rather to the Furies
than to me."
She thus continues: "But I have not the least doubt
that those are altogether my votaries, who delight in hear
ing or relating miracles and prodigious lies. They are
never wearied of fables about spectres, ghosts, and appari
tions, and a thousand bugbears of superstition of the samt
kind, which are readily believed and greedily devoured in
proportion as they are wanting in truth and probability.
And these serve not only to beguile their tedium, but also
are a source of gain, especially to priests, and to those who
can by their speaking influence the multitude. Near of kin to
these men are those who are foolish enough to believe that
they shall not die on the day on which they have seen a
painted or wooden St.^Christopher, or that they shall return
safely from battle when they have mumbled once a prayer
before the picture of St. Barbara, or that they shall shortly
become rich when on certain days they have placed before
an Erasmus certain wax-tapers, or addressed to him certain
prayers. They have found in St. George another Hercules
as well as another Hippolytus. They almost worship his
horse, after they have most religiously adorned it with
trappings and with bridles full of bosses. What shall I say
of those who derive very great comfort from the cheat of
pardons and indulgences, and who measure the spaces of
purgatory as if with an hour-glass, marking, without the
possibility of error, the ages, the years, the months, the
days, the hours, as if from a mathematical table; or of
those who relying on certain magical charms or short prayers
which some religious impostor has invented for the purpose
of gain, promise themselves everything wealth, honour,
pleasure, excess, constant health, a long life, a green old
82 THE PRAISE OP FOLLY.
age, last of all the next place to Christ in heaven, which,
however, they do not wish to obtain for some time to come,
that is when they shall exchange the pleasures of this life
which they are unwilling to resign, and hold with a tena
cious grasp, for the delights of the heavenly paradise 1 You
could hardly suppose it to be true that some merchant, or
soldier, or judge, having cast down a small piece of money
taken from the vast amount he has gained unjustly, thinks
that all the guilt of his life is purged away, and that he has
purchased the pardon of so many perjuries, so much lust, so
much drunkenness, so many quarrels, so many murders, so
much cheating, so many acts of treachery, and so purchased
it that he may now return afresh to a new circle of
wickedness.
"Can anything exceed the folly of those who, after the daily
recitation of the well-known seven verses of the sacred psalms,
hope to rise to the summit of human felicity 1 those magic
verses, I mean, which a certain facetious demon, more shallow
than crafty, skilfully surprised by St. Bernard is believed
to have taught him 1 Several of these fooleries which are so
absurd that I am almost ashamed to refer to them, yet are
practised and admired not only by the common people, but
also by professors of religion. Similar to this is the folly which
leads every country to claim its particular Guardian Saint,
and to assign certain offices, certain modes of worship, to
every one of them, so that one gives relief to the tooth-ache,
another assists in child-birth, another restores stolen pro
perty, another aids in shipwreck, another guards the flock.
But it would be tedious to go through the offices of all of
them. Some there are who have prayers addressed to them
on all occasions, especially the Virgin Mary, to whom the
common people attribute more power than they do to her
Son. Now from these Saints what, I say, do men ask,
excepting those things which relate to folly ? . . . .
THE PRAISE OF FOLLY. 83
Amongst the numerous trophies with which, as tokens of
gratitude, you see the walls, the brazen gates, and the roof
itself of certain churches covered, have you ever seen any
from one who has been cured of folly, and has made pro
gress in true wisdom 1 They are such as these. One is
grateful because, after a shipwreck, he has swum safely to
land ; another, because, after having been stabbed by an
enemy, he has recovered ; another, because, when all his
fellow-soldiers w r ere killed on the spot, he, with equal
cunning and cowardice, escaped from the field ; another,
because, after having been hanged on a gibbet, by the
favour of some saint who was friendly to thieves, he has
fallen, and has been able to follow his old trade of stealing ;
another, because he has escaped from prison j another,
because his waggon was overturned, and yet none of his
horses were lamed No one gives thanks for
having been preserved from folly. So agreeable is it to be
unwise that men will rather pray against anything than
folly. But why do I launch out into so wide a sea of super
stitions ?
Xo, had I e en a hundred tongues,
A hundred mouths, and iron lungs,
All folly s forms I could not show,
Kor go through all her names below. "*
***
Folly next refers to those " who have the reputation of
wisdom, and endeavour, as men say, to obtain her golden
bough. "t After having lashed them most unmercifully, as
well as poets and rhetoricians, she speaks of those who seek
immortality by writing books, t whom she describes as men
* Non mihi si linguce centum sint, oraque centum,
Ferrea vox, omnes fatuorum evolvere formas,
Omnia stultitire percurrere nomina possim.
Altered from Virgil, ^Eneid, book vi. lines 625-627.
f Page 371. J Page 374.
G 2
84 THE PEAISE OF FOLLY.
11 never satisfied with themselves, and as purchasing a use
less reward, the praise of a very few, at the cost of so much
midnight oil, with the loss of sleep, nature s sweet restorer,
with so much labour, with so many vexations. You may
add to these evils the loss of health, the weakening of their
constitution, dimness of sight or even blindness, poverty,
envy, the loss of worldly pleasures, premature old age,
untimely death, together with many other troubles of a
similar description. But how much happier in his madness
is that author, my devoted servant, who, without any trou
ble, and at the cost of : a very little paper, immediately
commits to writing whatever comes into his mind, not for
getting even his dreams, being fully assured that the more
nonsense he talks, the higher will be the place which he
will occupy in the good opinion of the majority, that is of
the foolish and the unlearned ! These men are happy in
deed when they are commended by the common people,
when they are pointed out in a crowd, when their works
are exhibited at the booksellers shops. Wise men look
upon all this as very ridiculous. True, but yet it must be
admitted that to me they owe their present happiness, and
the triumphs which they would not exchange for those of
the Scipios."
After having ridiculed the lawyers and the logicians,
Folly thus describes the philosophers :* " With what plea
sure to themselves do they rave while they talk of the
creation of countless worlds, while they measure out the
sun, the moon, the stars, the earth, as it were by the thumb
or thread, while they explain the cause of thunder, the origin
of winds, the nature of eclipses, and other abstruse diffi
culties without the least hesitation, just as if they had been
initiated into the mysteries of creation, or as if they had
come to us from, the council-chamber of nature, at whom
* Page 374.
THE PRAISE OP FOLLY. 85
and at whose conjectures nature in the meantime loudly
laughs. For it is perfectly evident to us that they have
made no discovery when we find that an interminable con
troversy is carried on between them respecting everything.
AVhile they really know nothing at all, they lay claim to
universal knowledge."
Folly then proceeds to speak of the theologians, whom she
says it would perhaps be better to pass over in silence.*
" They are a race at once proud and irritable, and will per
haps attack me in a body with their six hundred conclu
sions, and call on me to recant. If I refuse to do so, they
will at once cry out that I am a heretic ; for with these
thunders they terrify all who offend them. . . . It is
true that no men own less dependence on me; yet to me they
have reason to acknowledge themselves largely indebted.
For it is by one of my properties, self-love, that they fancy
themselves caught up to the third heaven, from whence they
look down with contempt upon the whole human race as if
they were cattle creeping on the ground, whom they affect to
pity. They are hedged in with so great a crowd of definitions,
delivered with the authority of a master, of conclusions, of
corollaries, propositions explicit and implicit, that if you
bind them with the strongest chains, they will escape from
you with their distinctions, by means of which they cut all
knots as easily as if they struck them with a two-edged axe.
They explain in their own manner hidden mysteries; how the
world was created and arranged ; through what channels the
pollution of Adam s sin came down to all his posterity ; in
what manner, with what measure, in what time, Christ was
formed in the Virgin s womb ; how, in the sacred elements,
accidents can subsist without a substance. . . . They
ask these questions Whether it is possible for the Father
to hate the Son 1 "Whether God can take upon Himself the
* Page 375. Here refer to the second chapter.
86 THE PRAISE OP FOLLY.
nature of a woman, a devil, an ass, a gourd, or a flintstone ?
How the gourd could have taught publicly, worked miracles,
and have been nailed to the cross 1 What Peter would have
consecrated, if he had consecrated when Christ was hanging
on the cross 1 Whether at that time Christ could have
been said to be a man ? Whether after the resurrec
tion we shall eat or drink, feel hunger or thirst ? . . .
These very perplexing subtleties are rendered still more
perplexing by the methods of the schoolmen, so that you
can more easily find your way out of a labyrinth, than
escape from the entanglements of the Realists, the Nominal
ists, the Thomists, the Albertists, the Occamists, the Scot-
ists, who constitute the leading sects. These men possess
so much learning, so much subtlety, that I think even
the Apostles themselves would want another Spirit, if they
were compelled to engage in controversy with this new
race of divines. Paul could believe j but when he said,
1 Faith is the substance of things hoped for, the evidence of
things not seen, he did not (they assert) define it with
sufficient accuracy. He was full of charity; but he was
not (they say) very correct in his explanation of it in the
thirteenth chapter of the first Epistle to the Corinthians.
. . . The Apostles knew the mother of Jesus ; but which
of them has shown philosophically, as our divines, how
she was preserved from the stain of original sin? . . .
They baptized everywhere, and yet they have nowhere
taught what is the formal, the material, the efficient, and
the final cause of baptism ; they do not speak of its delible
or indelible character. They worshipped, but in spirit,
guided by those words of our Lord, God is a Spirit, and
they that worship Him must worship Him in spirit and in
truth. * But it does not appear to have been revealed to
them that they must worship, in the same manner as Christ
* 1 John iv. 24.
THE PEAISE OP FOLLY. 87
Himself, a little image marked with a coal on the wall,
having two fingers held out, a bald crown, and a circle
round its head with three marks on it. ... Again, the
Apostles exhort to good works, but they make no distinction
between the opus operans and the opus operatum. They
everywhere inculcate charity ; but they do not distinguish
between charity infused and charity acquired, and do not
explain whether it is an accident or a substance, whether it
is a created thing or an uncreated. They express their
hatred of sin ; but I am positive that they could not define
dogmatically what we call sin, unless indeed they possess
the inspiration of the Scotists. For I cannot be brought
to believe that Paul, of whose learning all have a high
opinion, would so often have condemned foolish questions,
genealogies, and contentions/ and, as he calls them,
* strivings about the law, if he had been skilled in these
subtleties.* : . .
" I think that the Christians would be wise if, instead of
those cohorts who formerly fought with doubtful success,
they were to send the very noisy Scotists, and the very
obstinate Occamists, and the invincible Albertists, together
with the whole band of sophists, against the Turks and the
Saracens. They^would witness, I fancy, a most amusing
conflict, and a victory on our side not to be questioned.
For which of the enemy would not lower their turbans at
so solemn an appearance 1 which of the fiercest Janizaries
would not throw away his cimiter, and all the half-moons
be eclipsed by the interposition of so glorious an army ?
" You may think that all this is said in joke ; but in truth
there are some amongst the theologians better instructed,
who are disgusted with these frivolous subtleties. Some
condemn it as a kind of sacrilege, and look upon it as the
greatest impiety, to speak with unclean lips concerning
* Titus iii. 9.
88 TEE PKAISE OF FOLLY.
mysteries which ought rather to be the subject of a humble
and uncontradicting faith than of an inquisitive reason ; to
argue respecting them with the profane subtlety of the
heathen philosophers, to define them with so much presump
tion, and to pollute the majesty of divine theology with
cold and mean words and thoughts. But alas ! these scho
lastic divines are very well satisfied with themselves, and
spend the day and night over their very delightful studies,
so that they have no time left to meditate on the gospels,
or on the epistles of St. Paul. While they thus trifle in
the schools, they think that they shall support the whole
fabric of the Church, which would otherwise fall, with the
props of their syllogisms, as Atlas in the poets supports the
heaven on his shoulders. They are supremely happy while
they form and re-form at their pleasure the letters of the
Bible as if they were made of wax, while they would have
their conclusions, to which some schoolmen have given their
consent, ratified as the laws of Solon, and preferred to the
decrees of the Pope ; and while, setting themselves up as
censors of the world, they call for a recantation of every
thing which does not exactly square with their explicit and
implicit conclusions, declaring as if with an oracular voice,
This proposition is scandalous, This savours of heresy,
* This is irreverent/ This is very improper. .... Are
they not the happiest of men, while they are treating of
these things ? while they exactly describe everything in the
infernal regions, as if they had passed many years in that
kingdom ? making besides new spheres at their pleasure,
one, the largest and most beautiful, being finally added, lest
there should not be sufficient room for happy souls to walk
about, to enjoy a banquet, or even to play at ball?* With
* He here alludes to the tenth, or "empyrean sphere," which the
schoolmen had added to the ninth sphere of the ancients.
THE PEAISE OF FOLLY. 89
these and a thousand trifles of the same kind their heads
are so stuffed and swelled, that I do not think that the
brain of Jupiter was so heavy, when, as he was bringing
forth Pallas, he asked for the axe of Vulcan to ease him of
his burden. You must not therefore be surprised, if you
see their heads so carefully surrounded with bandages in
their public disputations, for otherwise they would certainly
burst asunder." . . .
Erasmus, by this severe condemnation of the schoolmen,
fulfilled the promise which he had made to Colet, that
when he had the requisite strength, he would openly
oppose them.*
Folly then inveighs in the following bitter words against
the follies and vices of the monks :t " These men call them
selves religious men and monks. Both titles are, however,
altogether undeserved for they are as irreligious as they
well can be ; and as to the latter title, the etymology of the
word monk implies being alone / whereas they are
so thickly abroad that we cannot pass any street or alley
without meeting them. Now I cannot imagine what class
of men would be more hopelessly wretched if I did not
stand their friend, and buoy them up in that lake of misery
in which, by the engagements of a holy vow, they have
voluntarily plunged. While men of this class are so exe
crated by every one that the casual meeting of them is
considered a bad omen, I yet cause them to stand very high
in their own estimation, and to be fond admirers of their
own happiness. First, they think that they give a very
plain proof of their piety by having nothing to do with
learning, so that they can scarcely ever read. Next, while
in their churches they bray out like asses the psalms which
they count indeed, but do not understand, they think that
God listens well-pleased to their melody. Some there are
* See end of chap. ii. t Page 377.
90 THE PRAISE OF FOLLY.
who make much, by their filth and begging, bellowing for
bread in front of our doors, and crowding in upon us every
where, in public-houses, in waggons, and passage-boats, not
without great loss to other beggars. These very delightful
men, who are remarkable only for their dirt, their ignorance,
their clownish manners, and their impudence, pretend that
they are the genuine successors of the Apostles. What gives
them greater pleasure than to regulate their actions by
weight and measure, as if their religion depended on the
omission of the least point ? They state exactly how many
knots their sandals should have, of how many different
colours each of their garments should consist, of what ma
terial they should be made, what ought to be the length
and width of their girdle, how deep their cowl should be,
how many hours they must sleep, at what minute rise to
prayers, &c These men who profess to be influenced
by apostolical love often engage in quarrels respecting the
darker colour of a robe, or girding it on the wrong way,
or any similar nicety not worth mentioning. . . . Some who
shrink from touching money, as if it were poison, will not
abstain from wine or from carnal intercourse with women.
They all seem to be firmly determined that there shall be
no agreement in their customs and habits. They strive not
SQ much to be like Christ, as to be unlike one another. A
great part of their happiness consists in the names which
they assume. Some will be called Cordeliers, and these are
subdivided into Capuchins, Minors, Minims, and Mendi
cants. Some again are styled Benedictines, others of the
order of St. Bernard, others of that of St. Bridget ; some
are Augustine monks, some Willielmites, and others Jaco
bites, as if the name of Christian were too mean and vulgar.
Many of them make salvation depend upon their cere
monies, and upon a belief of their traditions, thinking that
one heaven can scarcely be an adequate reward for their
THE PEAISE OF FOLLY. 91
great merit, not remembering that Christ will despise all
claims of this kind, and will ask them whether they have
exactly observed the law of love which He has given to
them. One will show his paunch stuffed with every kind of
fish ; another will exhibit a hundred measures of psalms ;
another will number up myriads of fasts ; another will
bring forward a heap of ceremonies, which can scarcely be
conveyed in ten merchant ships ; another will boast that
for sixty years he has never touched money, excepting with
fingers protected by a pair of gloves j another will produce
a cowl so dirty and coarse, that no sailor would think it
good enough for him j another will declare that for more
than fifty years he has lived the life, of a plant, always
rooted to the same place ; another will plead as his claim
the loss of his voice from constant singing ; another, the
lethargy occasioned by solitude ; another the loss of the
power of speech from long silence. But Christ will inter
rupt them in the recital of their good deeds, which would
otherwise never come to an end, and will say, Whence
comes this new race of Jews ? I acknowledge one law as
really mine, of which I hear nothing. Formerly, when on
earth, without a parable, I promised my Father s inherit
ance, not to austerities, prayers, or fastings, but to faith and
the offices of charity. I do not acknowledge those who
make much of their good deeds. Those who trust in their
own merit may inhabit, if they please, the new heavens of
the schoolmen, or they may order a new heaven to be
erected for them by those whose traditions they have pre
ferred to my precepts, for they shall never enter into that,
which from the beginning of the world was prepared for
those who are true of heart. When they hear these words,
and see sailors and carters preferred to themselves, what
looks do you suppose they will cast at one another ? But
THE PKAISE OF FOLLY.
in the meantime they are greatly indebted to me for their
present expectations of happiness.
" No one dares to despise these men, especially the Men
dicants, though they have nothing to do with public affairs,
because they know the secrets of every one, which they
obtain through the confessional. They think it, however,
very wicked to divulge them, and never do so unless,
when they are intoxicated, they wish to amuse themselves
with pleasant tales ; but they carefully conceal the names,
and leave people to form a conjecture as to the persons. If
any one should irritate these wasps, they avenge themselves
well in public by insinuations against their enemy, which
every one but an idiot can perfectly understand. The dogs
will not leave off barking till you have thrown them a sop.
What player, what mountebank would you not rather see
than these men, when they make a very ridiculous display of
their rhetorical artifices in their public addresses, while they
derive the greatest pleasure from following the rules which
the masters of the art have laid down respecting the right
method of speaking. How they gesticulate ! How careful
they are to change their voice in the right place ! How they
modulate it ! Into what various attitudes they throw them
selves ! How well they change the expression of their
countenance ! What a confusion they make by their shout
ing ! This art "of speaking is transmitted as a great mystery
from brother to brother. You see, then, I think, how much
these men are indebted to me, who, by their ceremonies,
their ridiculous trifles, and their noise, exercise a kind
of tyranny over mankind. But I willingly leave these
actors, who are as ungrateful in their concealment of their
obligations to me, as they are wicked in making a pretence
of piety."
Folly then proceeds to censure, in severe terms, the vices
THE PEAISE OF FOLLY. 9%
and follies of the kings and courtiers of those days. She
then attacks the dignitaries of the Church.*
" Popes, Cardinals, and Bishops," she says, " have, in
pomp and splendour, long since equalled, nay almost sur
passed, secular princes. If they will carefully consider that
the snow-white linen vestment reminds them that they must
live a spotless life ; that the forked mitres with both divi
sions tied together by the same knot, denote the joint know
ledge of the Old and New Testament ; that their wearing of
gloves reminds them that they must keep their hands pure
from lucre and covetousness that their pastoral staff is in
tended to impress upon them the importance of looking
very carefully after the flock committed to their charge ;
that the cross carried before them reminds them that they
must gain a victory over their carnal affections ; if, I say,
they would only consider these things, and many more of a
similar nature, would they not see that they are entrusted
with an important and difficult office ? But now they live
luxuriously, and commit the charge of the flock to Christ
Himself. . . . They forget altogether what their name of
Bishop imports ; namely, labour and watchful care ; and, by
base simoniacal contracts, are, in Ji profane sense, Episcopi,
Overseers of their own gain and income.
" The Cardinals, in the same manner, would do well to
remember that they have come into the place of the Apos
tles } that therefore they must conduct themselves like their
predecessors, and so not be lords over God s heritage,
but c dispensers of spiritual gifts, and that they will be
called on hereafter to give an exact account of the manner
in which they have improved the talents with which He has
gifted them. If they will for a short time meditate on their
dress, and learn lessons from it, they will ask themselves
the following questions : What am I taught by this white
* Pace 381.
94 . THE PRAISE OF FOLLY.
upper garment ? That I must be remarkable for innocency
of life. What by the inner purple robe 1 Burning love to
God. What, again, by the outer pall with, its many folds
and windings, which is spread over the whole of my mule,
and would be quite large enough to cover a camel ? Charity,
which extends very far and succours everybody, which
teaches, exhorts, consoles, rebukes, admonishes, puts an end
to differences, courageously resists wicked princes, and will
ingly sacrifices not only its money, but even its life for
the flock of Christ. Let me ask myself again, Ought a suc
cessor of the poor Apostles to possess all this wealth? If
they weighed these things well, they would not be ambitious
of this dignity, and would willingly resign it, or at least
would live a watchful and laborious life, like the disciples of
their Lord and Master."
Folly then lashes severely the Popes themselves. The
student of history will at once see that he is here describing
two Popes, his contemporaries, who filled a large space in
the annals of infamy. I have already spoken of Alexander
VI.* Julius II., who was alive at the time when Erasmus
wrote the " Praise of Folly," was haughty and intractable,
restless and ambitious. He devoted all his energies to the
enlargement of the territory of the Church, and the complete
subjugation of the barons who had resisted the authority of
his predecessor. He heard a voice in every wind animating
him to carry his warlike enterprise to a successful issue.
That voice scared sleep from his eyes and slumber from his
eyelids. At length it was heard and answered. The tumult
of the battle-field was music in his ears. At the siege of
Mirandola he was continually in front of his soldiers, rebuk
ing some, and animating all to deeds of noble daring. At
length he subdued his barons, and added< a large tract
of fertile territory to the patrimony of St. Peter. We
* Page 36.
THE PRAISE OF FOLLY. 95
cannot doubt, however, that the ambition and wars of
Julius, while they issued in the extension of the Church s
territory, were greatly injurious to the Papacy. > They we re
iit subjects for the satire of Folly. Men could not fail to
lose all reverence for their spiritual guides when they saw
their ambition no longer veiled under the decent pretext of
an apparently honest determination to redress the wrongs
of human society, but exhibiting its workings in all the
petty artifices of politics, in dissimulation and perjury, or in
the coarser form of military enterprises, conducted by thenir
selves, having for their object to gain possession of the terri
tory of their neighbours, and to raise themselves as temporal
princes to a high place among this world s potentates.
Folly thus describes the Popes : " If the sovereign
Pontiffs, who are Christ s vicegerents, were to endeavour to
imitate His exemplary life, His poverty, His labours, His
teaching, His sufferings, His contempt of the world ; if they
were to think of the word Pope, which signifies a father, and
conveys the idea of the greatest possible sanctity ; or if they
would but practise that holiness which they assume as their
title, what class of men would be in a worse condition ?
Would any purchase that dignity with all the wealth at their
disposal, or defend themselves by the dagger, by poison, by
-every kind of violence ?* How much of their pleasure would
they lose if they had a grain of wisdom wisdom, did I say?
if they had a grain of common sense, I should have said
of that salt whose savour our Saviour bids us not lose 1 All
their honour, their power, their victories, their offices, their
dispensations, their taxes, their licences, their indulgences,
their horses, mules, and attendants, their vicious pleasures,
would in this case be forfeited and lost. You see how many
* Alexander VI. succeeded by the grossest bribery in securing for
himself the triple crown. He perished by a poisoned draught which
he had prepared for one of his Cardinals.
96 THE PRAISE OF FOLLY.
markets, how large a harvest, what an ocean of property, I
have comprehended in a few words ! They would substitute
for them vigils, fasts, tears, prayers, sermons, studies, sighs,
and a thousand mortifications and labours. I must not omit
also to state that all their clerks, amanuenses, notaries, advo
cates, proctors, secretaries, grooms, ostlers, serving-men,
and something else which for the sake of modesty I shall not
mention; in a word, the immense crowd of men who are a
burden I made a mistake, I meant who are an honour to
the Roman Court, would lose their employment. An act
of great inhumanity, too, it would be, an abominable crime,
of which we cannot too strongly express our detestation, to
compel the highest princes of the Church, the true lights of
the Gospel, to go forth once more with the wallet and the
staff of the beggar ! But now, whatever work there is they
generally leave to Peter and Paul, who have plenty of leisure
for it; whatever pomp and pleasure, they appropriate to them
selves. Thus then to me they owe it that no class of men
leads a more effeminate or less anxious life. They think to
satisfy Christ, whom they pretend to serve, with their great
state and magnificence, with the ceremonies of instalments,
with the titles of Reverence and Holiness, and with exer
cising their episcopal functions only in blessing and cursing.
" To work miracles is, they think, an obsolete custom, and
one altogether unsuited to the present times ; to teach the
people is too laborious ; to explain the sacred volume is to
interfere with the prerogative of the schoolmen ; to pray is
a proof of indolence ; to shed tears is cowardly, and shows
a womanish weakness ; to fast is to be mean and sordid ; to
be easy and familiar is to be. unworthy of one who will
scarcely allow even the greatest kings to kiss his blessed feet ;
... to die for religion is too self-denying ; to be crucified,
as their Lord of Life, is base and ignominious. Their only
weapons ought to be those of the Spirit ; and of these they
THE PEAISE OP FOLLY. 97
are very liberal, as their interdicts, their suspensions, their
denunciations, their aggravations, their greater and lesser
excommunications, and their terrible bulls, by which, at
their pleasure, they consign the souls of mortals to the lowest
depths of hell ; weapons which these very holy fathers and
these vicars of Christ wield against none with greater se
verity than against those who, at the instigation of the
devil, endeavour to lessen and to spoil the patrimony of St.
Peter. Although these words are in the Gospels, Behold, we
have forsaken all and followed Thee/ they yet say that the
patrimony consists of fields, towns, taxes, tolls, lordships.
When inflamed with Christian zeal they are fighting in de
fence of these possessions, are laying waste a territory with
fire and sword, are pouring forth the blood of Christian men
in torrents, and are, as they say, bravely vanquishing their
enemies, they think that they are defending the Church, the
spouse of Christ, in a manner truly apostolical ; as if indeed
there were any enemies of the Church more pernicious than
impious popes . . . who corrupt the Gospel by their forced
interpretations, and traditions, and by their lusts and wick
edness, grieve the Holy Spirit, and make the Saviour s wounds
bleed afresh. Moreover, as the Christian Church was founded
with blood, was strengthened by blood, was established
with blood, so now, as if Christ were dead, and could not
protect His own subjects in His own way, they wield the
sword in defence of it. And although war is so cruel that
it becomes wild beasts rather than men, so frantic that the
poets represent it as sent by the Furies, so pestilential that
it brings in its train an universal dissolution of manners, so
unjust that it is usually carried on best by the worst rob
bers, so impious that it has no connection with Christ, yet,
neglecting everything else, they make this the only business
of life. Here you may see even decrepit old men showing
all the vigour of youth, incurring any expense, not fatigued
7
98 THE PRAISE OF FOLLY.
by any toil, deterred by nothing, if only they can overturn
law, religion, peace, and throw all the world into confusion.
There are not wanting, too, learned flatterers who call this
manifest madness, zeal, piety, valour, and discover a way in
which a man can brandish the fatal sword, and drive it
into the bowels of his brother, while he yet possesses
that very great love which, according to the precept of
Christ, he owes to his neighbour.* In truth I cannot tell
whether or no the Popes learnt to fight from certain German
bishops, or whether these learnt to do so from them. They
go further than the Heads of the Church, for they throw off
their episcopal dress, they neglect public worship, they never
bless the people, or think of other ceremonies of a similar
description, and appear openly armed as warriors, account
ing it cowardly and unbecoming in a bishop to die at any
other time than when he is bravely fighting on the battle
field.
"Now also the common herd of priests, accounting it
impious to degenerate from the sanctity of their diocesans,
wage war in true military fashion for their tithes, with syl
logisms and arguments, as fiercely as with swords, spears,
darts, stones, or any other kind of weapon. . . . But in the
meantime they do not remember what they may read every
where, respecting the duties which they owe to the people.
Their shorn head does not remind them that a priest ought to
pare off and cut away all worldly lusts, and ought to meditate
only upon heavenly things. But these very delightful men say
that they have done their duty well if they mumble after a
fashion their well-known prayers, which I shall be much sur
prised if any Saint or man can hear or understand, when they
* The reader will at once see that Erasmus is, in the whole of this
passage, writing against Pope Julius. The wonder is that he should
have had the courage to, write in the lifetime of that Pope a satire
which was read all over Europe.
THE PEAISE OP FOLLY. 99
are quite unintelligible and inaudible to themselves. In
this respect the priests resemble the profane, that they all
look carefully after the harvest of gain, and all know the
best means of obtaining it. If there should be any bur
den to be borne, they prudently put it upon the shoulders
of their neighbours, and toss it about as a ball from one to
the other. Just as kings delegate a part of their public
duties to their representatives, who in their turn devolve a
part of them upon others, so they leave religion entirely to
the people, since they are too modest to make a profession
of it themselves. The people again say that these are the
duties of the men whom they call ecclesiastics, as if they had
nothing at all to do with the Church, or as if their baptism
hadpbeen an unmeaning ceremony. Again, the priests who
call themselves secular, thinking that their title shows that
they belong not to Christ, but to the world, assign this task
to the regulars, the regulars^to the monks ; while the monks
pass it from one order to another till it comes to the Mendi
cants ; they lay it on the Carthusians, in whom alone piety lies
buried, and so buried that it is scarcely ever possible to see
it. In like manner the Popes, who are very diligent in
reaping the pecuniary harvest, commit those duties which
are too apostolical for them to the bishops, the bishops again
to the pastors, the pastors to the curates, and the curates to
the Mendicant brothers. These again return them to those
by whom the wool of the sheep is shorn.
"It is not, however, my .purpose to describe the lives of
Popes and priests, lest I should seem to be weaving a satire,
not pronouncing a panegyric, or to be censuring good kings,
while I praise the wicked. But I have said a few words
about these things, that everybody may understand that
there is no man who can live happily unless he is initiated
into my mysteries, and has me for his friend."
Folly then, having directed her shafts against other
72
100 THE PEAISE OF FOLLY.
classes, concludes her address in the following manner.*
"If I have spoken with too much petulance or loquacity,
remember that Folly has been speaking to you, and that the
speaker is a woman. I see that you expect an epilogue ;
but you are very foolish if you suppose that I remember
still anything which I have said, when I have poured forth
so great a medley of words. . . . Wherefore, farewell,
plaudite, vivite, bibite, ye very distinguished votaries of
Folly."
This translation will give an idea of this celebrated
work. It was not originally designed for publication, but
having been finished, it was, at the instigation of More and
his other friends, for whose amusement it was begun, sent
over to be printed at Paris in the summer of 1511. In
reply to Stunica, Erasmus says that 20,000 copies were sold
in the course of a few months. It was read all over Europe.
Popes, kings, cardinals, archbishops, bishops, princes, all the
great, the gay, and the polished, who understood Latin, read
and admired this work. Pope Leo perused it. Erasmus, too,
he said, has his corner in the region of Folly. Neither he,
nor any other Pope who occupied, while Erasmus lived, the
chair of St. Peter, reproached him with the work. The
celebrated painter, Holbein, of whom I shall speak par
ticularly hereafter, by that wonderful skill for which he was
conspicuous, aided in increasing the sensation which the
"Praise of Folly" produced throughout the continent of
Europe. He illustrated it with thirty-eight pictures, which
he completed in ten days. The originals are preserved in
the public library of Basle. These may be seen drawn with
the pen in the margin, near the particular scenes and cha
racters to which they refer, in the Leyden edition of his
works, and in the Basle edition of the " Praise of Folly,"
which was published in 1676. The following are some of
* Page 389.
THE PEAISE OF FOLLY. 101
them : We see the hounds in full cry, followed by men
with spears, who are blowing horns ; a dice-board, at which
two men are seated, with foolscaps and ears, throwing
about the dice ; a man standing in an attitude of adoration
before an image of St. Christopher; the devil, with his
horns, appearing to St. Bernard ; a king with a sceptre, a
crown, and a chain of gold round his neck, seated on his
throne ; a bishop, with his forked mitre, his gloves, and his
pastoral staff; a man with a paunch, given up to ease and
indulgence, and grasping a wine-cup, with this inscription
underneath it " Epicuri de grege porcum;" and Erasmus
himself seated in his study, with his " Adages" in his hand.
It is said that when Erasmus looked at the last but one, he
wrote under it, "Holbein ;" and that when he came to his
own, he immediately said that if Erasmus looked so well, ifc
was not too late for him to begin to think of a wife. These
scenes and characters are represented with so much skill
that they bring before us exactly the idea which was present
to the mind of Erasmus when he wrote his remarkable
satire. The following Latin quotation from the Basle edition
above referred to shows what Holbein, by his pictures, did
for the " Praise of Folly."
" Rex Macedum Coo tmnidus pictore cani se
Mseonio dolet, non potuisse seni.
Stultitia? potior sors est, hanc alter Apelles,
Pingit et eloquium, laudat, Erasme, tuum."
This celebrated work abounds in allusions to some of the
most elegant passages in the writings of ancient authors.
Many of them are to us trite and pedantic. Then, however,
they were fresh and original. The passages quoted from
classical writers are constantly applied in a very lively
manner to the manners and customs of the age in which he
lived. The following is a brief description of the plan of the
102 THE PRAISE OF FOLLT.
work : Folly at first indulges in harmless pleasantry. She
attributes to her followers the enjoyments of life which are
unknown to the wise. Afterwards, when she has laughed
at all the absurdities of the age, she becomes a serious
satirist, lashing most unmercifully all, however high in
station, who, by their vices, crimes, and follies, had exposed
themselves to her displeasure. Erasmus, in reply to Dor-
pius, who blamed certain passages, says that the " Praise of
Folly " afterwards exposed him to much censure ; and that
he would not have composed a work so gay on subjects
which in the issue proved so serious, if he had foreseen the
troubles with which the Church would afterwards be
afflicted.* This is s one of the numerous proofs of his
timidity. The monks, the scholastic divines, and the hypo
crites, against whom he directed hisjmost envenomed shafts,
were, when they understood the ^satire, very angry with
him. He was obliged to draw up an apology, addressed
to Dorpius in 1515. More undertook the defence of it iu
a letter to the latter, who at length owned that he was
perfectly satisfied.t In 1542 the Sorbonue condemned
it in severe terms, and some of his enemies procured the
insertion of it in the Roman index. The monks never for
gave him. It is indeed impossible to justify it altogether.
The mention of the Redeemer of the world in such a work
was equally offensive to piety and good taste. We cannot
doubt, however, that it produced, on the whole, a beneficial
effect. As we shall see hereafter, by his pungent satire
on the vices and follies of ecclesiastics, he promoted the
progress of the Reformation throughout the continent of
Europe.
* Ep. Dorpio, edit. Bas., cum notis G. Lystri, 1676, p. 237.
t Ibid., p. 281.
VISIT TO THE NURSERY OP HENRY VII. 103
CHAPTEE V.
INTERCOURSE WITH THE ROYAL FAMILY OF ENGLAND.
RESIDENCE AT CAMBRIDGE. ACCOUNT OF HIS VISITS
TO WALSINGHAM AND CANTERBURY IN HIS COLLOQUY,
" PEREGRINATIO RELIGIONIS ERGO." (A.D. 1510 1514.)
ERASMUS, when lie was in Italy, had received before the
death of Henry VII., from Henry, Prince of Wales, an
elegant Latin epistle, in which he commends his style, and
expresses his admiration of his erudition.* This letter
seems to have been in answer to one which he had received
from him. Their acquaintance had begun when Henry was
a child. Shortly before he left England in 1500, when he
was staying with Lord Mountjoy near Greenwich, his friend
Thomas More, who was then a student at Lincoln s Inn,
came to pay him a visit. Soon after his arrival he took him
cut for a walk to a stately mansion, which, he was told, was
the king s nursery. t Here he saw Prince Henry, then a boy
of nine years of age. On his right hand stood Lady Marga
ret, afterwards married to James, King of Scotland ; Lady
Mary, four years old, was playing on his left hand ; and
Prince Edmund was in the nurse s arms. More, and a friend
* Op. torn. iii. p. 911, edit.Bas.
t Catalogus Op. D. Erasmi ab ipso conscriptus, praefixus operum
torn, primo, edit. Bas.
104 ODE TO THE ROYAL FAMILY OP ENGLAND.
who accompanied him, had no sooner entered than they pre
sented an offering on paper to the prince. Erasmus was
not prepared to give anything to him ; but told him that
lie would send him a literary tribute on some future occa
sion. He was very angry with More for having suffered
him to come unprovided with an offering ; the more so as
Henry sent an epistle to him at dinner as a kind of chal
lenge. He returned to Lord Mountjoy s house, and in three
days produced an elegant Latin ode.* The following pass
age, in which England describes her wealth and fertility, is
a very good specimen of it :
"At mihiiiec fontes nee ditia ilurnina desunt,
Sulcive pingues, prata nee ridentia.
Fceta viris, fcecunda feris, foecunda metallis,
Ne glorier, quod ambiens largas opes
Porrigit Oceanus, neu quod nee amicius tilla
Ccelurn, nee aura dulcius spirat plaga."
He then gives to the king, Henry VII., many lines of
adulation. In reading them we must remember that this
was the language in which it was the law to address kings. t
He describes him as the miracle of his age, a conqueror in
war, but a lover of peace, indulgent to others, severe only
to himself. He adds that he wished to be feared only by
the lawless, and to reign in the affections of his people ;
that his country was as dear to him as Rome to the Decii, or
Athens to Codrus, when they became victims to the public
good ; that he was equal to Nestor in eloquence ; that he
rivalled, nay, surpassed Crosar in intellect, and Mascenas in
generosity. He afterwards describes in glowing language
* Op. torn. i. pp. 10181022, edit. Bas.
t Erasmus afterwards composed a poem on the coronation of
Henry VIII., which is complimentary to him and his queen, and a
most severe satire on the reign of his avaricious and rapacious
father.
EPISTLE TO PRINCE HENRY. 105
the royal children. He compares Prince Arthur to Phoebus
emerging from the eastern waves, and describes his noble
countenance and his bright eyes, in which the vigour of his
mind was reflected j he then eulogizes " the pearl," Mar
garita, and the boy Henry, to whom he could not give a
greater meed of flattery than when he told him that he was
an exact likeness of his noble father ; and concludes with
calling on the nymphs to shower down violets, thyme, and
crocuses on the cradle of the infant Edmund.
He dedicated this ode to Prince Henry, and sent it with
an eulogistic epistle, of which the following is the substance.
He tells him that he did not give him gold or jewels,
because others could give them, because they were transi
tory possessions, and because a great king ought rather to
give than receive them; but that he gave him an ode,
which he considered a far better gift, because it was one
which very few could make to him, and because it would
confer upon him immortal glory. " I have dedicated this
trifle to you now," he adds, " in your boyhood, but I will
give you something better hereafter, when your virtues,
advancing with your advancing years, shall supply a wider
field for poetry. To this I should incite you, but that your
own natural genius prompts you to it, and you have for your
guide and preceptor Mr. Skelton, that singular light and
ornament of literature in Britain, who is able not only to
promote, but to finish your studies. 1 Farewell, illustrious
prince, be the patron of good letters ; adorn them with
your example ; protect them by your authority ; improve
them with your bounty."
* He had described Skelton in the ode as directing Henry s poetic
studies. He only spoke thus highly of him from common report, for
he did not know English. Skeltoii was as yet known only by his
verses on the fall of the house of York. He had been, crowned
with the poetic wreath at Louvain.
100 HIS HIGH OPINION OP HENRY VIII.
On the accession of Henry VIII. to the throne in 1509,
his friend, Lord Mountjoy, had, as we have seen^urged him.
to hasten his return to this country, and had encouraged
him to expect high preferment from the king on account of
the favourable opinion of him which he entertained.* On
his arrival, he fulfilled the promise in his letter, and dedi
cated to him a translation from Plutarch. The subject was
" How to know a friend from a flatterer," which, he thought,
would be very useful to one occupying an exalted station.
It appears that Erasmus thought very highly of the king s
abilities. He speaks, in a letter to his friend Cockleius, of
the excellent education given to him by his father ; gives
many proofs of his mental powers from his letters, which
he says that his friend, Lord Mountjoy, can prove to have
been written by himself ; says that he had made great pro
gress in mathematics, and that even after his elevation to
the throne, he would often find time, amid the harassing
cares of royalty, to apply himself to literary and scientific
pursuits, t He also showed his regard for Henry by vindi
cating his title to the kingdom of France against his
adversary Bedda, who was very angry because Erasmus had
mentioned it in his dedication to the king before his Para
phrase on St. Luke s Gospel. J That dedication had been
made to him in acknowledgment of a present of sixty angels
which Henry sent to him. In an epistle to Servatius, written
as we shall see in 1514, he says that the king had given him.
many proofs of his great esteem ; that he wrote to him
when he was in Italy most affectionate letters with his own
hand ; that he speaks in the highest terms of him ; that he
embraced him whenever he paid his respects to him ; that
the queen wished to have him for her instructor ; that the
* Op. torn. iii. p. 189, edit. Bas.
t Ibid., p. 909, edit. Bas.
J Epist. And. Critic, torn. iii. p. 937, edit. Bas.
OFFER OF THE BECTOBY OF ALDINGTON. 107
king, and the Bishop of Lincoln (Wolsey), had made him
great promises ; -and that he might have had any amount
of preferment if he had breathed the sickly atmosphere of
a court, and had given up his beloved studies.*
Erasmus seems to have spent some months after his
return to England with More, Lord Mountjoy, and Arch
bishop AVarharn. The latter had given him many proofs of
his friendship. Erasmus tells us that he had shown as
much regard for him as if he had been his father or brother.
Warham had, without any solicitation on his part, given
to him in the course of a few years four hundred nobles,
and even as much as one hundred and fifty in a day.t
He had also in March, 1511, offered to him the Rectory of
Aldington, near Ashford in Kent.; Erasmus at first de
clined it, alleging as his reason that the incumbent ought
to reside and to feed the flock committed to his charge ;
whereas he could not do so, because he could not speak
English. This ignorance of our language may well astonish
us when we consider the length of his residence in this
country, and the intimate friendship which he had formed with
many of its most distinguished inhabitants. Archbishop
Warham so far respected his , conscientious scruples as to
appoint another clergyman to the living; but he at the
same time charged it with a pension of 20 a year to
Erasmus. When he made this arrangement, the archbishop
said to him, " What great service could you do, if you were to
preach to a small country congregation 1 Now you do
much greater service by your writings, in which you teach
the preachers themselves ; and it would seem strange if
you did not receive a little of the Church s revenues.
* Op. torn. iii. p. 1527, edit. Lugd. t Ibid.
Aldington was the parish in which, some years after, appeared
Elizabeth Barton, the Holy Maid of Kent, whose history is so well
told by Mr. Froude.
108 A PENSION" CHARGED ON ALDINGTON RECTORY.
I will take that matter upon myself; I will see that
the duty is properly supplied." " He was as good as
his word/ writes Erasmus. "He removed his suffra
gan, the first person appointed, who from his numer
ous engagements was unable to pay proper attention
to the duties of the parish, and presented a young and
active man, a good theologian, and a person of high charac
ter, to the incumbency/ *
This practice of charging a living with a pension to an
incumbent, which he was to receive after his resignation of
it till the time of his death, had become very common in
England at the time before us. The archbishop had posi
tively forbidden it in his diocese, because it led to simoniacal
contracts, and because it was very injurious to the rights of
patrons. He made an exception, however, in favour of
Erasmus, assigning the following very satisfactory reason
for it. He states that no one ought to wonder that he had
not kept his resolution in the present instance, because
Erasmus was a man of consummate knowledge of Greek and
Latin literature, who, by his learning and eloquence, adorned
like a star the age in which he lived. He adds, that though
he was a most learned divine, and conversant with every
other branch of learning, as well as a most eloquent writer
of Greek and Latin, he could not explain the word of God
to his parishioners in the English language. He had, there
fore, asked him to appoint another person to the living, and
to charge it with a pension to himself, by which arrange
ment he would not only consult the best interests of the
parish, but also enable Erasmus to devote himself altogether
to his favourite studies. He says that he had the less hesi
tation in complying with his request, because Erasmus had
shown a wonderful love to the English nation ; so that,
despising Italy, France, and Germany, in which countries
* Ecclesiastes, Op. torn. v. p. G78, edit. Bas.
RESIDENCE AT CAMBRIDGE.
he might have enjoyed some degree of opulence, he had
come to spend the remainder of his life with his friends in
this country, and to give them the pleasure of his learned
conversation.*
Erasmus appears to have gone to the University of Cam
bridge about August, 1511.t He probably visited Cam
bridge for the first time, and was made bachelor of divinity,
in the early part of 150G. He owed all his advantages at
it to the celebrated Fisher, Bishop of Rochester, who, as all
students of history will remember, was beheaded for deny
ing the king s supremacy. This prelate, who was one of
the great patrons of Erasmus, was very anxious for the
restoration of learning at Cambridge, and hoped by his
means to accomplish his object. He promoted him therefore
to the Lady Margaret Professorship of Divinity, and after
wards to the Greek Professor s chair. As his means were
not very abundant, the bishop supplied him with money.
Erasmus lived with him at Queen s College, of which he
was president, and accompanied him wherever he moved. J
In compliance with his request, Erasmus drew up the Latin
epitaph for the tomb of his friend and benefactress, Marga
ret, Countess of Richmond, in Westminster Abbey. He
received for it twenty shillings.
Erasmus, when he was in England, often made excursions
into the country. He tells the following amusing story of
an incident which occurred as he was on his way to Rich-
* See the original deed taken out of Archbishop Warham s Hegis-
try in the Appendix to Knight s " Life of Erasmus," p. 40.
t At this date his letters from Cambridge begin.
J His rooms are still shown. A walk in the gardens is even now
called by his name. His corkscrew is kept by the bursar of the
college. The inference from this relic is that the strong beer of
Cambridge did not agree with him, and that he drank wine instead
of it.
110 AN APPARITION.
mond. It is to be found in one of the most entertaining of
his Colloquies, which is called " Exorcismus, sive Spectrum."*
I wish that I could find space for the whole of it, as the
perusal of it would be advantageous to those who readily
believe tales of apparitions. His friend Pole was the con
triver of the deceit. It shows how easily a belief in the
marvellous was propagated in those days. " Several of us
were riding together to Kichmoiid. Amongst them there
were some whom you would call discreet men. The sky was
wonderfully serene ; there was not the appearance of a cloud
upon it. Pole, looking with fixed eyes upwards, made the
sign of the cross on his face and shoulders ; and composing
his features so as to express the feeling uppermost in his
mind, uttered an exclamation of wonder. When those who
rode next to him asked him what he saw, again marking
himself with a larger cross, he exclaimed, May a most
merciful God avert from us this prodigy ! When they
pressed upon him, eager to know what was the matter, fix
ing his eyes upon the sky, and pointing to a particular part
of it, he said, Do you not see there a large dragon, armed
with fiery horns, having his tail twisted into a circle?
When they told him that they could not see it, he told
them to look fixedly towards it, and often showed them the
exact place. At length one of them, fearing that he should
seem to be short-sighted, declared that he also saw it. His
example was followed first by one, then by another ; for
they were ashamed not to see what was so very plain. In
short, within three days the report was spread all over
England, that this wonderful sight had been seen. It is
surprising how much popular report added to the story.
Some gave a serious interpretation to this prodigy. He who
had invented it laughed heartily at their folly. ;
* Colloquia cum notis selectis variorum, Lngd. Batav., 1GG4.
Accurante Corn. Sohrevellio, p. 337.
VISIT TO WALSINGHAM. Ill
In the autumn of 1513 he made a pilgrimage from Cam
bridge to the shrine of our Lady of Walsingham, of which
he has given the following amusing account in his Colloquy
of the " Religious Pilgrimage."-: The persons who hold the
conversation are Menedemus and Ogygius. The former
had missed the latter for six months from the neighbour
hood. He meets him, and asks him what had become of
him during that time. He was informed that he had been on
a pilgrimage to the shrine of St. James of Compostella, and
of the Virgin in England. The conversation is then carried
on between them in the following manner :
Men. I have often heard of the first. I should be much
obliged to you to give me an account of the second.
Og. I will gladly do so in as few words as possible. Her
name is very celebrated throughout England. You will not
find a person in that island who expects to do well unless he
makes every year an offering at it according to his means.
The Virgin dwells at the extreme coast of England on the
north-west, about three miles from the sea.t The inhabitants
gain their livelihood chiefly by the crowd of visitors to the
shrine. There is a college of canons there, whom the Latins
call by the name of regulars; a middle sort between the
monks and the canons called secular. . . . This has scarcely
any revenue but what arises from the liberality of the
Virgin. \ The larger offerings are laid up in store j but if
* Op. torn. i. p. G56, edit. Bas.
t Erasmus is not quite correct in this description. Walsingham
is in Norfolk, about seven miles from Wells, the nearest seaport, and
about eight miles from the sea. Most of the pilgrims would land
at Lynn, which is twenty-seven miles distant.
J Erasmus was not correctly informed. The priory had consider
able landed property. The annual income in 26th Henry VIII. was
391. 11s. Id. The offerings were as follows : at the chapel of the
Virgin, 250. Is.; at the sacred milk, 2. 2s. 3d.; at the chapel of
St. Lawrence, 8. 9s. IJd.
112 VISIT TO WALSINGHAM.
there should be any coin, or anything of small value, it is
applied to the support of the flock and of their head, who
is called a prior.*
Men. Do they lead a good life ?
Og. Reputable enough. They are richer in piety than in
their annual income. The church is graceful and elegant ;
the Virgin, however, does not reside in it, but has done her
Son the honour to give it to Him. . . . She has her own
church, that she may be on her Son s right hand. She had
not, however, yet made it her abode ; for it is unfinished,
and stands without doors and windows ; and near is the
ocean, the father of winds.
Men. A hard case. Where then does she reside ?t
Og. In the church which I have described as unfinished
there is a narrow wooden chapel, with a narrow wicket on
each side for the admission and departure of the pilgrims.
* The pilgrimages to Walsingliam commenced in or before the reign
of Henry III., who was there in 1241. The letter written by Queen
Catherine of Arragon to Henry "VIII., announcing the victory of
Hodden, commences with telling him that she was on her way to
Walsinghain. The people supposed that the galaxy, or milky way,
was placed in the heavens to guide pilgrims by night to Walsingharn,
and is therefore sometimes called the Walsingliam way. Edward I.
was there in 1280 and 1290, and Edward II. in 1315.
t This description of the churches of Walsingliam priory is correct.
There were two the priory church, and the wooden chapel of the
Virgin, around which the new work of stone had been erected, but
was never finished, as he has described it. The surface of the soil
had been so changed, and so occupied by the gravel walks and shrub
beries of an ornamental pleasure ground, that though it was well
known that the Lady Chapel was 200 feet from the wells referred to
presently, yet it was for a long time considered impracticable to ex
cavate with the view of discovering the site. Thus the wonder-work
ing spot, where stood the shrine which kings visited bare-footed, was
for a long time undiscovered. Excavations made about twenty years
ago have, however, shown its foundations.
VISIT TO WALSINGEAM. 113
There is scarcely any light in it excepting from wax tapers.
A fragrant odour is diffused through it.
Men. All this harmonizes well with religious worship.
Og. If, Menedemus, you look inside, you will say that it
is an abode worthy of the Saints ; for it is resplendent with
jewels, gold, and silver. ... In the innermost chapel, which
I have called the shrine of the Blessed Virgin, a canon stands
hear the altar.
Men. For what purpose 1
Og. To receive and guard the offerings.
Men. Do those give who are unwilling to do so ?
Og. Certainly not. A kind of pious modesty actuates
some, who will give if any one be near, or will give rather
more than they intended, but who will give nothing if there
is no one to see them.
Men. That is a natural feeling, and one not altogether
unknown to me.
Og. Nay, there are some so devoted to the most holy Vir
gin, that while they pretend to put an offering on the altar,
they take away with wonderful dexterity what some one else
has placed upon it. ... On the northern side there is a door,
not in the church, but in the outer wall, with which the
whole space adjacent to the church is surrounded. There is
in it a very little wicket, such as we see in the folding-gates
of the nobility. Those who wish to enter must first bend
the knee, and then lower their heads.
Men. Certainly it would not be safe for an enemy to
enter through such a wicket.
Og. You are quite right. The man who shows strangers
the curiosities tells every one that a knight on horseback
escaped through this gate from his enemy, who was in close
pursuit. The unhappy man, who was in a state of despair,
suddenly determined to make the blessed Virgin, who was
in the neighbourhood, his preserver. For he had made up
VISIT TO WALSINGHAM.
his mind to fly to her altar if the gate should be open.
Now hear and wonder. On a sudden the knight was quite
within the wall of the church, while his enemy was stand
ing, full of fury, outside it.*
Men. Can he persuade people to believe this wonderful
story ?
Og. Yes.
Mm. He would find it a very difficult matter to make
a philosopher like you believe it.
Og. He showed me a brass plate fastened to the gate
with nails, on which was the likeness of the knight who had
been preserved, in the dress worn in those days by the
English. We see it in the older pictures. If it is a correct
representation, the barbers, dyers, and weavers of those
days must have starved.
Men. Why so ?
Og. Because he had a beard like a goat, and his whole
garment had not a single wrinkle in it, and was no larger
than the body, so that, being drawn close, it made the body
somewhat narrow. . . . Under the wicket was an iron grat
ing, through which only one on foot could pass. It was not
right that a horse should tread on ground which the knight
had consecrated to the Virgin.
Men. This is as it should be:
* The English version of the story is cited in Blomefield s "His
tory of Norfolk," from an old manuscript, which describes the wicket-
gate as "not past an elne high, and three quarters in bredth. And
a certain Norfolk knight, Sir Haaf Botetourt, armed cap-a-pee and on
horseback, being in days of old, 1314, pursued by a cruel enemy, and
in the utmost danger of being taken, made full speed for this gate,
and invoking this Lady for his deliverance, he immediately found
himself and his horse within the close and sanctuary of the Priory, in
a safe asylum, and so fooled his enemy." The name of "Knight
Street " is the only local evidence now remaining of the scene of this
exploit.
VISIT TO WALSINGHAM. 115
Og. To the east of it is a chapel full of wonders, to which
I then proceeded. Another person came forward to show
them to me. We prayed in it for a short time. A joint of
the middle finger of a man was shown to us. I kissed it,
and asked whose it was. The answer was, "St. Peter s."
" What, the apostle?" I said. The reply was, " Yes." Then
looking at the joint, which seemed to be as large as a giant s,
I said, " St. Peter must then have been a man of enormous
size." Hereupon I was much annoyed to find one of my com
panions bursting out into a hoarse laugh ; for if he had been
quiet, the sexton would, without hesitation, have shown to
us all the other wonders. However, we pacified him by
giving him money. Before the shrine was a shed, which is
said to have been suddenly brought in winter-time, when the
country was covered with snow, from a great distance to
that spot. Under this house are two wells, full up to the
top.* We were told that the fountain is sacred to the
blessed Virgin. The water is very cold, and is of service for
the headache and stomach-ache.
Men. If cold water should serve as a cure for pains of
this description, we may hereafter expect oil to extinguish
fire.
Og. You are hearing of a miracle, my good man. If
this cold water could only quench our thirst, there would be
nothing miraculous in it ; and this is only one part of the
story. . . . The fountain is said to have suddenly sprung
forth from the earth at the command of the most holy
Virgin. As I was carefully looking round at everything, I
asked how many years ago that little house had been
brought to that place. The answer was, " Several centu-
* These wells still exist, lined with ashlar stone, and near them is
a bath called the wishing-well. The popular idea was that the devotees
to the Lady of Walsingham were taught to believe that when they
drank of this water they might obtain what they then wished for.
82
116 VISIT TO WALSINGHAM.
ries." " Bat the walls," I said, " do not show any signs of
age." He did not deny it. " Nor," I continued, " do these
wooden posts." He admitted that they had been lately
placed there, and indeed the thing spoke for itself. " Then
this roof and thatch seem to be new." He agreed with me.
" Even these cross-beams, too, and the rafters on which the
straws rest, seem to have been fixed not many years ago."
He nodded assent. When I had thus disposed of every
part of the house, I asked him, " How does it appear that
this house has been brought from a great distance 1"
Men. Oh, tell me how he got out of this difficulty.
Og. Why, he showed us a very old bear-skin fixed to
the rafters, and almost laughed at our dulness because we
did not see this convincing proof of the truth of what he
said.* Convinced in this manner, and admitting that we
were dull indeed, we turned to the heavenly milk of the
blessed Virgin.
Men. The mother in truth seems to be exactly like the
Son. He left a large quantity of His blood in the world ;
she has left far more milk than you could suppose that a
woman who has brought forth one child could produce, even
if the infant had drunk none of it.
Og. They make the same pretence respecting the wood
of the cross, which is shown in public and private in so
many places. If all the fragments were brought together,
they would seem a proper load for a merchant-ship, and yet
our Lord carried the whole of His cross.
Men. Does not this appear strange to you 1
Og. It may be said to be something new, but scarcely
* In the queries prepared for the visitors sent by Henry VIII. to
make inquiry at Walsingham, it is asked, "What of the house where
the beere-skin is, and of the knyght V" and they conclude with asking
"whether the house over the welles were not made within time of re-
membraunce ?" These questions were probably suggested by reading
Erasmus s work.
VISIT TO WALSINGHAM. 117
strange, since the Lord who increases it at His pleasure is
omnipotent.
Men. You give a pious explanation of the matter, but I
fear that many of these things are invented for gain.
Og. I do not think that God will allow any one to mock
Him in this manner. . . . But now hear what
I have to say to you besides. That milk is kept on the
high altar, in the middle of which is Christ, with His mother
on the right hand, as the post of honour. For the milk
represents the Virgin Mother.
Men. It can, then, be seen ?
Off. Yes, in a crystal vessel.
Men. It is, then, liquid ?
Og. How can you suppose it to be liquid, when it is
more than 1500 years old? It is concrete, and looks like
beaten chalk tempered with the white of an egg.
Men.- Why, then, do they not show it uncovered?
Og. That the milk of the Virgin may not be polluted by
the kisses of the men.
Men. That is as it should be ; for some would (I think)
touch it with impure lips.*
Og. When the canon in, attendance saw us, he ran
towards us, put on his surplice, placed the sacred stole
round his neck, and fell down most devoutly to worship.
He then gave us the sacred milk to kiss. Afterwards we
also fell down on the lowest step of the altar, and having
first called upon Christ, we addressed the Virgin in the
following prayer, which I had prepared for this occasion :
" Virgin Mother, who hast been thought worthy to
give suck from thy breasts to thy Son Jesus, the Lord of
heaven and earth, we pray that, purified by His blood, we
also may attain to that happy infancy of dove-like sim-
* Some pilgrims were neither pure nor chaste. The justice of this
stigma is confirmed by numerous authors, ancient and modern.
118 VISIT TO WALSIETGHAM.
plicity, which, ignorant of deceit and guile, desires con
tinually the milk of evangelical doctrine, until it comes to
a perfect man, to the measure of the stature of the fulness
of Christ, with whom thou shalt live for ever, with the
Father and the Holy Ghost. Amen."
Men. A pious prayer truly ! What followed 1
Og. Unless I am very much mistaken, Christ and His
Mother seemed to be propitious to me. For the sacred
milk appeared to leap up, and the Eucharist became some
what brighter. In the meantime the canon silently
approached us, holding out a little box, like those presented
by the toll-collectors on the bridges in Germany. . . . We
gave him some pence, which he presented to the Virgin.
Presently I inquired, with as much politeness as possible,
through an interpreter well acquainted with the English
language, a young man of pleasing address (whose name, if
I am not mistaken, was Eobert Aldridge), how it could be
proved that this was the real milk of the Virgin. I was
anxious to obtain the information, because I was influenced
by the pious wish of stopping the mouths of certain profane
persons, who usually turn everything of this kind into ridi
cule. The man looked at us with a frown, but did not say
a word. I requested my interpreter to repeat the question.
He did so in the most courteous manner possible. Imme
diately the man, as if he had become the subject of a super
natural influence, regarding us with utter astonishment, and
looking as if he were horror-stricken at our blasphemy, said,
"Why need you ask that question, when you have an
authentic record of it?" And he seemed as if he would
have cast us out of the church as heretics, if we had not
appeased his anger by giving him a few pence.
Men. How did you feel in the meantime ?
Og. You may easily imagine. We drew back just as if
we had been struck with a club, or blasted with thunder,
VISIT TO WALSINGHAM. 119
humbly imploring pardon for our boldness. ... I was
anxious now to see the inscription to which the man re
ferred us. After having looked for it for some time, we at
length found it placed against the wall, so that not every
one could read it. As Aldridge was reading it, I carefully
followed him with my eyes, not trusting altogether to him
in so important a matter.
Men. Were all your doubts removed 1
Og. I was ashamed of having ever entertained the least
doubt. Everything was brought plainly before me, the
name, the place, the story, all in due order ; in short, no
thing was omitted. The name was William. He was born
.at Paris. He was a man of great piety, which showed itself
chiefly in a diligent search for the relics of the Saints
throughout the world. Having gone on a pilgrimage to
many countries, and having examined the monasteries and
temples in them, he at length came to Constantinople, of
which his brother was the bishop. As he was preparing to
return, the latter informed him that there was a certain
holy virgin, who had the milk of the Virgin Mother, and
that he would be very fortunate if he could beg or buy
from her a part of it, for all the relics which he had hitherto
collected were nothing when compared with the holy milk.
Accordingly William did not rest till he had begged
earnestly for half of it. Having obtained it, he seemed
with his treasure to be richer than Croesus. . . . He im
mediately hastened home, but fell ill on his journey. When
he found himself in danger, he privately sent for a French
man, a most faithful companion of his pilgrimage. He
then gave the holy milk to his charge on this condition,
that if he should return home safely, he should deposit that
treasure on the altar of the Holy Virgin, who is worshipped
in a magnificent church at Paris, which looks on either side on
120 VISIT TO WALSIITOHAM.
the channel of the Seine.* . . . After the burial of "William,
the other hastens on his journey, and is likewise attacked
with illness. Despairing of his recovery, he gave the milk
to an English friend, and conjured him to do what he had
intended to do himself. After his death, his friend took it
and placed it upon the altar in the presence of the canons of
that place, who were then, as still, called Kegulars, as they
now are at St. Genevieve. He obtained from them half
the milk, and carried it to England. He at last, under the
guidance of the Holy Spirit, carried it to Walsingham. . . .
Having gone through everything, while we were walking
about and preparing to take our departure, looking round
to see if there were anything else worth seeing, some of the
inferior brethren again come to us. They look at us askance,
they point with their fingers, they run forward, they go
away from us, they return, they nod to us, and seem as if
they would address us, if only they could summon up bold
ness to do so.
Men. Were you at all afraid ?
Og. On the contrary, I turned towards them, smiling and
looking at them as if I invited them to address me. At
length one approached, and asked my name. I gave it to
him. He then asked me if I were the person who, two
years ago, fixed to the wall the votive tablets in the Hebrew
letters. I said that I had done it.
Men. Do you write Hebrew 1
Og. No, but whatever they do not understand they call
Hebrew. Soon the sub-prior of the college came, having
been, as I expect, sent for by them. ... He addressed me
very courteously, and told me how many had endeavoured
to read those verses, and how many glasses had been wiped
to no purpose. Whenever any old professor of theology
* He means the island which the Seine forms in the middle of the
city of Paris.
VISIT TO TTALSIXGHAM. 121
or of law paid them a visit, they showed him the tablet.
One said that the letters were Arabian ; another, that they
had no meaning. One was at length found who could read
the title. It was Latin, written in Latin capital letters.
The verses were Greek, written in Greek capital letters,
which at first sight appeared to resemble the Latin capitals.
Having been asked to do so, I explained the meaning of the
verses in Latin, translating word for word. They offered
me a small reward for my trouble, but I persisted in refus
ing it, saying that there was no labour, however arduous,
which I would not gladly undertake in honour of the most
Holy Virgin ; that if she directed me to do so, I would even
most gladly carry letters thence to Jerusalem. ... He
produced from his bag a fragment of wood, cut from a
beam on which the Virgin Mother was seen to rest. A
wonderful scent from it immediately convinced me that it
was very sacred. Bending forward with bare head, I kissed
several times most reverently this very valuable present,
and put it in my bag. ... I would not exchange it for all
the gold of Tagus.* . . . Then the sub-prior, when he saw
me contemplating that gift with a holy joy, judging me not
unworthy of having information on more important matters
given to me, asked me whether I had ever seen the secrets
of the Virgin, That question rather frightened me. I did
not dare to ask his meaning ; for in sacred matters a slip of
the tongue is dangerous. I said that I had not seen them,
but that I was most anxious to do so. 1 was led on as it
were by a divine influence. Several wax tapers were lighted.
An image was then shown to me, not remarkable for its
size, nor for the material of which it was made, nor for the
workmanship bestowed upon it, but possessing very great
* Most of the ancient writers say that the Tagus rolls down golden
sands. Thus Ovid ;
" Quodque suo Tagus amne vehit, fluit ignibus aurum."
122 VISIT TO WALSINGHAM.
virtue e ... At the feet of the Virgin was a jewel, which
has no name yet among the Latins or Greeks. The French
have given it a name derived from a toad, because it bears
a resemblance to it such as the most skilful artist cannot
produce.* The miracle is the greater because, though the
the stone is small, the figure of the toad does not project,
but is seen through it, being as it were enclosed in the
jewel itself.
Men. Perhaps they imagine that it is like a toad, just as
boys see in the clouds dragons breathing fire, volcanic
mountains, and armed men meeting in battle.
Og. I assure you that it is exactly like a living toad.
Men. Thus far I have listened with patience to your
tales. You must find some one else to believe this tale
about the toad.
Og. I am not surprised, Menedemus, to hear that this is
your feeling. No one would have convinced me of its
truth, even if a whole college of divines had asserted it, if I
had not seen it with these eyes. . . . The man then sho\ved
us gold and silver figures. This, he said, is entirely of gold.
This is silver gilt. He then informed us of the weight and
price of every one of them, and of the name of the maker.
When full of admiration I said that the Virgin must be
happy indeed, because she possesses this abundance of gifts ;
the man said to me, " Since you are so devout a spectator,
I do not think it right to hide anything from you ; you
shall see the things belonging to the Virgin which are not
shown to everybody." Having said this, he took out of
the altar itself all sorts of wonderful things. If I were to
* The word alluded to is crapaudine. That which seems to
answer nearest to the description is a kind of stone supposed to be
found in the head of a toad, and which is really the tooth or palate
of a fish petrified. This, however, does not quite correspond to the
pellucid stone mentioned by Erasmus.
VISIT TO WALSINGHAM. 123
attempt to describe every part of them, I could not finish
my story in a day. Thus that pilgrimage ended very well
for me. I was quite satiated with sight-seeing, and I carry
with me this very valuable gift, a pledge given to me by the
Virgin herself.
Men. Have you never made any trial of the virtues of
the wood ?
Og. Yes. In an inn, three days afterwards, I found a man
in a state of frenzy, for whom chains were being prepared.
I placed the wood without his knowledge against his brain.
He fell into a deep sleep, which lasted for some time. When
he rose in the morning, he had recovered his senses.
Men. Perhaps it was not frenzy, but intoxication, which
sleep always removes.
Og. When you wish to joke, Menedemus, seek another
subject. It is not pious nor safe to joke against the Saints.
The man himself said that a woman of surpassing beauty
appeared to him in his sleep, holding out to him a cup.
Men. I should think that it contained hellebore.
Og. I do not know. One thing is quite certain, that
the man recovered his senses.
Such is the description of this pilgrimage given by Eras
mus. Robert Aldridge, here referred to, was afterwards
Bishop of Carlisle.* He had previously been Master of
Eton School, Fellow and Provost of Eton, and Canon of
Windsor. Erasmus speaks of the Greek ode in a letter to his
friend Ammonius, dated in the previous May. He writes,
" I know that you approve of a religious spirit. I intend
to pay a visit to the shrine of the Virgin at Walsingham,
and to hang up a Greek ode as a votive offering. When
* Seebohm s "Oxford Reformers," p. 273, and Knight s "Life,"
p. 144. See also a letter to Aldridge in Eras. Op. torn, iii.p. 790, edit.
Bas. From his Epistles to Erasmus it appears that he was an elegant
Latin writer.
124? VISIT TO WALSINGHAM.
you go there ask for it."* 1 He says in the ode, that " while
some went to the shrine for wealth, others for health, others
to ask for a long life equal to that of Nestor, he went to
obtain the greatest of all gifts, a pure and enlightened con
science. "t It is evident, however, from several passages in
which he plainly scoffs at the superstitions which were
practised at Walsingham, that he is not to be considered as
a devout worshipper of the Virgin ; that he thought that a
better use might be made of the money spent on these
expeditions ; that in fact the Colloquy is a bitter satire
against all this superstition ; and that he considered that
the " Romish doctrine concerning worshipping and adora
tion, as well of Images as of Reliques, is," to use the words
of the twenty-second article of the Church of England, " a
fond thing vainly invented, and grounded on no warranty of
Scripture, but rather repugnant to the Word of God."
But matters of this description were not suffered long
to interrupt the work, to the prosecution of which he
had determined to devote his energies. From his letters
at Cambridge during 1511 and 1513, we find that he was
busily engaged on an edition of the New Testament in
Greek, accompanied by a Latin translation designed to
correct the errors of the Vulgate, j: We find also that he
was working hard at the correction of the text of St. Jerome.
He had also found time, not only to assist Colet with his
advice respecting the celebrated school, now called St. Paul s
School, which he was founding, at his own expense, for the
free education of 153 children, but also to draw up a treatise
De Copia Verborum for the use of the scholars. He was also
engaged in doing battle with the schoolmen. His " Com-
* Op. torn. iii. p. 291, edit. Bas.
t Ibid., torn. v. p. 1109, edit. Bas.
J Seebohm s "Oxford s Reformers," p. 277.
Ibid., p. 216.
THE KNOWLEDGE EXPECTED FROM A MASTER. 125
mentariolus de Eatione Studii," published in 1512, deserves
more than a passing reference on account of the vast amount
of knowledge which he expects from a master.
" He must pay most attention to the works of the best au
thors j but he must not leave any unread, even if they should
be written by inferior men. First he must go to the fountain-
head, that is, to the Greeks and the ancients. Plato, Aris
totle, Theophrastus, the disciple of the latter, and Plotinus,
in whom the two are combined, will be his best instructors
in philosophy. With regard to commentators on the sacred
volume, none will teach him better than Origen, none in a
more simple or agreeable manner than Chrysostom, none in
a holier manner than Basil. ... If he cannot spend much
time upon every one, he must yet take something from all
of them. Certainly with a view to the explanation of the
poets, whose custom it is to lay every kind of learning under
contribution, he must make himself acquainted with their
mythology, which he can learn from no one better than from.
Homer, who is the father of it. The Metamorphoses and
Fasti of Ovid will give him here not a little assistance,
although they are written in Latin. He must learn geo
graphy, which is important in the study of history, and in
reading the poets. On this Subject Pomponius Mela has
written a very short treatise, Ptolemy a very learned, (and
Pliny a very laborious one. For Strabo is not the only
writer upon it. Here he must particularly observe what
modern names of mountains, rivers, countries, cities, answer
to the old ones. He ought to take the same pains in regard
to names of trees, herbs, animals, tools, clothes, and gems, of
which it* is surprising how ignorant learned men generally
are. This information is to be obtained from different
authors who have written on agriculture, on Avar, on archi
tecture, on cookery, on jewels, on plants, and on the nature
of animals. . . . He must obtain information regarding
126 DETERMINATION TO LEAVE ENGLAND.
ancient times, not only from the old writers, but also from
old coins, from inscriptions, and from stones. He must also-
learn the genealogy of the gods, of whom their fables are
full. He must understand astrology. ... He must be ac
quainted with the nature and properties of all things, be
cause the poets borrow from them their similes, epithets,
comparisons, images, metaphors, and other figures of that de
scription. He must also carefully study history, which is
useful in many more matters than in the explanation of the
meaning of the poet. . . . In a word, there is no part of the
art of war, of agriculture, of music, of architecture, a know
ledge of which may not be useful to those who undertake to
explain the works of the poets or the ancient orators. But
you will say that I am putting an immense load on the
teacher. I admit it ; but I only burden the one that I may
release the many, I want him to examine everything, that
he may save his scholars from doing so."*
Erasmus, after having resided for more than two years in
the University of Cambridge, made up his mind to take his
departure from England. He says, in a letter to Cardinal
Grimauus, that he had been attracted to this country by
magnificent promises, but had been in some measure disap
pointed in his expectations. t Perhaps one reason was that
he had not followed the advice which he had given in a jest
ing tone to his friend Ammonius of Lucca, the Latin secre
tary to Henry VIII., with whom he had formed a great
friendship during his residence in England. "First of all,"
he said, " be impudent, thrust yourself into all affairs, elbow
those who stand in your way, love and hate no one in good
earnest, but consult your own advantage, give nothing with-
* Op. torn. i. p. 446, edit. Bas.
t Op. torn. iii. p. 68, edit. Bas.
OUT OP HUMOUR WITH CAMBRIDGE. 127
out a prospect of gaining by it, be of the opinion of every
one with whom you have to do."*
Foreign countries had contended, and were still con
tending, as we shall see directly, for the honour of en
rolling him amongst their citizens. But hitherto, for
reasons already given, he had preferred England to all of
them, and had determined to make it his permanent home.
The same contention for him had been carried on, as he
informs us, between the Universities of Oxford and Cam-
bridge.t But the latter had not fulfilled the liberal pro
mises which had induced him to teach the Greek language
and theology to the students. He was now quite out of
humour with the University, and threatened to keep his quar
antine, and to take his departure in forty days, if better for
tune should not befall him, of which he has not at present the
least expectation.^ He laid bare his griefs in a letter to his
friend Ammonius in November, 1513, telling him how weary
he was of Cambridge, where he had lived nearly four months
like a snail in his shell, as it had been deserted on account of
the plague ; that he had spent sixty nobles, and had received
barely one from any of his pupils ; and that he was resolved
very soon to depart from the University. The necessity of
taking pupils, and of applying himself to secular studies,
which, in consequence of his scanty means, was imposed upon
him, had the effect of weighing down his spirit to the earth,
and of distracting his thoughts from that work to which he
was anxious to apply himself with unremitting ardour. He
had hitherto, by the kindness of some of his friends, been
saved from actual want. We have seen how Warham had
provided for him. He speaks in the highest terms of his
* Op. torn. iii. p. 290, edit. Bas.
t Op. torn, iii. p. 1 527, edit. Lugd.
$ Epist. Gonello, Op. torn. iii. p. 264, edit. Bas.
Op. torn. iii. p. 292. edit. Bas.
REGIS
TTU 1UA7
128 HIS INTERVIEW WITH CANOSSA.
disinterested liberality.* "We are informed also that he had
received from other bishops above a hundred nobles ; and
that his friend, Lord Mountjoy, gave him an annual pension
of one hundred crowns, t But he could not expect that
their bounty would flow on in a perennial stream. It might
have been greater but for the war which Henry was carry
ing on for the recovery of France, and which Erasmus took
every opportunity of condemning. He therefore determined
to accept the first appointment which might save him from
mendicancy, of which he was ashamed, and might render
him altogether independent of the precarious liberality of
strangers.
We cannot be surprised therefore to learn that he de
parted from Cambridge at the latter end of 1513, having
accepted from the Emperor Charles the Great a post in his
Council, an annual pension of 200 florins, and a benefice, a
Oanonry of Courtray.J He was in London in February, 1514.
I shall now give in his own words an amusing story of a
conversation which he had at Westminster, at the lodgings of
his friend Ammonius, with Canossa, an Italian, the Pope s
legate: "Andreas Amrnonius had invitedme to dinner. Icame,
not having the least idea that there was a conspiracy against
me, for I was very much attached to him. I found with
him a man in a long robe, having his hair bound up in a
net, attended by one servant. I conversed with Ammonius,
not having the least suspicion that he was Canossa. Won
dering at the military sternness of the man, I asked An
dreas in Greek who he was. He answered also in Greek,
* He is a great merchant. During dinner as usual I con
versed with Ammonius, and told him stories, not concealing
* Epist. Cardinal! Grimano, Op. torn. iii. p. 68, edit. Bas.
t Epist. Servatio, Jortin s "Life," vol. ii. p. 322.
Epist. Leoni X., Op. torn. iii. p. 73, edit. Bas.
HIS INTERVIEW WITH CANOSSA. 129
my contempt for the merchant. At length I asked Andreas
whether the report were true that a legate had come by the
order of Leo X. to bring about a peace between the Kings
of France and England. He said, Yes. The Sovereign
Pontiff/ I replied, will not take me into his counsels. If
he had done so I should have given him different advice.
Why V said Ammonius. It was not desirable/ I said, to
talk about peace/ I shortly afterwards asked whether it
were true that he was a Cardinal. He made a shuffling reply.
Presently he said, He has the spirit of a Cardinal. At length
the stranger said something in Italian, mixing in with it a
few Latin words, in such a manner that you might easily dis
cover that he was an intelligent merchant. Turning to me,
he said, * I wonder that you live in this barbarous country,
unless it is that you would rather stand alone here, than be the
first at Rome. Astonished at this smartness in a merchant,
I replied, I am living in a country which contains many
men remarkable for their learning, among whom I would
rather have the last place than be nowhere at Rome. Being
very angry with the merchant, I said this, and much more.
I think that my good genius was then at my side ; other
wise Ammonius would have .exposed me to the greatest
danger, for he was not ignorant how plainly I say whatever
comes uppermost. After we rose from dinner Andreas and
I walked some time longer in the garden." Erasmus says
afterwards that the apartment where they dined looked
towards the Thames, and that he returned on foot to his
lodging, instead of returning by the boat.*
He afterwards discovered that he had been conversing
with the Pope s agent, Cardinal Canossa. He was also
informed that the legate wished him to accompany him to
Rome ; but he refused to do so, because lie was afraid
that he had made him his enemy, or displeased him by his
* Eras. Germ. Brixio, toin. iii. p. 1458, edit. Lugd.
9
130 VISIT TO CANTERBURY.
conversation. Erasmus, however, afterwards changed his
opinion of Canossa. He thus writes to a friend : "I offer
you my warmest congratulations on your possessing the
friendship of the most distinguished Cardinal, Ludovicus
Canossa. I made his acquaintance in England, where he
was employed by Pope Leo to negotiate a peace between
the Kings of France and Great Britain. I greatly admired
his remarkable genius, and formed a strong attachment to
him. Both when I was in England, and afterwards in his
letters, he gave me proofs of his favourable regard."*
Erasmus now prepared to take his departure from Eng
land. He could not leave without a heavy heart that little
band of friends to whom he was bound by a tie of no com
mon affection. His grief was shared especially by Colet.
Erasmus was now almost always with him. They often
took journeys together. A description of one of those
journeys occurs in his Colloquy entitled " Peregrinatio
Keligionis ergo," from which a translation of his ac
count of his visit to Walsingham has already been taken.
This Colloquy is important; as it served to increase the
anger of the monks against him. The persons who con
verse are, as before, Menedemus and Ogygius.t
Men. Have you omitted to pay a visit to the shrine of
St. Thomas of Canterbury ?
Og. That is a shrine which of all in the world I was the
least likely to neglect. No pilgrimage is holier.
Men. I should be glad, if it does not give you too much
trouble, to hear from you an account of it.
Og. I will ask you, then, to give me your attention.
That part of England which is opposite to France and Flan
ders is called Kent. Canterbury is its principal town.
There are two monasteries in it, almost close to each other,
* Eras. Jacobo Tussano, Op. torn. iii. p. 1351, edit. Lugd.
t Ibid., Op. torn. i. p. 663, edit. Bas.
VISIT TO CANTERBURY. 131
both of them belonging to the Benedictines. That which
is called St. Augustine s seems the older of the two ;* the
other, which is now called St. Thomas s, seems always to
have been the seat of an Archbishop, where he lives with a
few chosen monks, just as at the present day Bishops have
houses close to the church, but separate from the houses of
the other canons. . . . The Cathedral church, dedicated to
St. Thomas,t rises with so much majesty towards heaven,
that even when seen from afar it strikes religious awe into
the spectator. By its magnificence it obscures the beauty of
its neighbour, and quite, casts into the shade a place which
has been very sacred from remote antiquity. It has two
large towers, which, from a distance, as it were, bid wel
come to pilgrims, and send forth very loud peals from bells
of brass far and wide through the neighbouring country.
In the entrance to the church, which is at the south, stand
three figures of armed men in stone, who, with impious
Lands, are slaying a very holy man. Their family names
are inscribed. They are Tuscus, Fuscus, Berrus.J
Men. Why are the wretches so honoured ?
* Two noble gateways of St. Augustine s Abbey still remain ; St.
Augustine s, or the north-west gate, built of Caen stone at the close
of the thirteenth century, on the north side of which is the Almonry
gate. On the south-west of the precinct is the cemetery gate. In
1844 Mr. Beresforcl Hope recovered the site from profane uses, and
restored the early English guest chapel. Close to it is the Library
of the Missionary College, incorporated June, 1848.
t Erasmus has made a mistake as to the name in this description.
The shrine of St. Thomas was the principal object of devotion. But
the cathedral M r as dedicated to Christ, and by that name it is always
described.
I These arc not much liko the names of the murderers, who were
four, Reginald Fitzurse, William de Tracy, Hugh de Moreville, and
Richard Brito. It is supposed that the statues stood in the four
niches still remaining in the doorway of the south porch of the
cathedral.
92
132 VISIT TO CANTERBURY.
Og. They have, forsooth, the same honour given to them
which is conferred upon Judas, Pontius Pilate, Caiaphas,
and the wicked Roman soldiers, well-carved figures of whom
you see on gilded altars. The names are given that no one
in future may be proud to bear them. They are placed pro
minently before us, that no courtier may hereafter lay
Lands on our Bishops, or on the possessions of the Church.
For those three minions, after their crime, were struck
with madness, and only recovered their senses whsn
the aid of the most holy Thomas was implored on their
behalf.
Men. Oh ! the enduring mercy of the martyrs !
Og. When we had entered, a spacious and majestic
building disclosed itself to our view. To this part any one
may be admitted.
Men. Is there nothing to be seen there ?
Og. Nothing but the vast size of the building, and some
books fixed to pillars, amongst which is the Gospel of Nico-
demus, together with the tomb of some one whose name I
do not know.*
Men. What is to be seen next?
Og. An iron grating bars out admission to that part
which lies between the extremity of the church and the
choir, as it is called, but one can see through it. The
ascent to it is by several steps, a vaulted passage under
which admits us to the north. There is shown a wooden
altar of the holy Virgin, of small size, and only remarkable
as a monument of antiquity, administering a rebuke to the
extravagant habits of the present age. There the pious
man is said to have bid farewell to the Virgin when death
* It was a remarkable proof of the general ignorance of the Scrip
tures at this time that this spurious gospel should have been set up
in the Metropolitical Cathedral. Books were constantly fixed in this
manner before and since the invention of printing.
VISIT TO CANTERBURY. 133
was at hand.* On the altar is the point of the sword, t
with which the crown of the head of the very excellent
Archbishop was cut off, and his brain was pierced, that he
might be the more quickly dispatched. J Full of love to
the martyr, we kissed with great veneration its sacred
rust. Quitting this part of the church we enter the vault
below. It has its own priests. There is first shown to us
the pierced skull of the martyr. The forehead is left bare
for us to kiss, but the other part is covered with silver.
There is also shown a slip of lead engraved with his name
Thomas Acrensis.|| In the same place, in the dark, hang
up the hair-shirt, the girdles, and the bandages with which
the Bishop used to mortify his flesh. The very look struck
* This was the story told to Erasmus. But in truth the altar
was erected after the catastrophe, as is stated by the historian Ger-
vase. A stone is still pointed out where Becket fell. A small piece
cut out of it is supposed still to be preserved at Rome.
t The sword of R. Brito, supposed to have been that which gave
the fatal blow, was fractured by striking against the pavement.
The monks kept the point as an objecb of veneration, and a source
of profit.
The part of Becket s head, on which was the tonsure or corona,
was hewn off by his murderers, and preserved in a setting of silver
and precious stones, made in 1314, in a part of the cathedral still
called after him Becket s crown, which was built at the close of the
12th century.
There are several chantry chapels in it, one of which, founded
by the Black Prince, in the southern transept, and endowed with
the manor of Vauxhall at Lambeth, still belonging to the church of
Canterbury, became the Church of the French Protestant Refugees.
II His mother is said to have been a Saracen. His birth was sup
posed to have taken place in London, but from his being called Acrensis,
it would seem to have been at Acre, in the Holy Land. The chapel in
Cheapside, London, founded by Becket s sister, and now the Mer
cers Chapel, was generally known by the name of St. Thomas of
Acre. The inscribed slip of lead was deposited in coffins to identify
the body in case it should be disturbed.
VISIT TO CANTERBURY.
horror into us. The^y seemed to upbraid us with our soft
and effeminate habits."
Men. And perhaps the monks also.
Og. I cannot say whether you are right or wrong. It
is no business of mine. We then returned to the choir.
The treasuries on its northern side were unlocked for
us. An immense quantity of bones, skulls, chins, hands,
teeth, fingers, and entire arms was brought out to us, all of
which we devoutly kissed. There would have been no end
of it all, if my companion in my pilgrimage, showing:
plainly that he had had enough of it, had not interrupted
the priest while he was eagerly showing to us these relics.
Men. Who is he ?
Og. He is an Englishman, and his name is Gratianus
Pullus.t He is a learned and pious man, but he is not so
well affected towards that part of our religion as I could
wish.
Men. -He is perhaps a Wickliffite.
Og. I do not think so, although he had read his books.
I do not know how he got hold of them.
Men. Did he offend the priest 1
Og. An arm was produced, the flesh of which was still
bloody. He shrunk back from kissing it, and his feelings
of disgust were very plainly expressed on his countenance.
Immediately the priest shut up the rest of his relics. Then
we went to look at the high altar and the ornaments which
* Gervase, in relating the original interment of the Archbishop,
thus describes his dress : " And that I may truly relate what I saw
with my eyes, and handled with my hands, he wore next his skin a
hair-shirt, then a linen one, over them the black cowl, then the alb in
which he was consecrated, the tunic also, and dalmatic, chasuble,
pall, and mitre. He had hair-drawers, with linen ones over woollen
hose, and sandals."
t Gratianus Pullus is supposed, with good reason, to be his friend,
Dean Colet.
VISIT TO CANTERBURY. 135
had been lately hidden underneath it, all of them very rich.
If. you had seen the quantity of gold and silver, you would
have said that Midas and Croesus were poor, when com
pared with the possessors of them.
Men. Was there no kissing here 1
Og. No ; I had feelings of a different kind.
Men. What were they ?
Og. I sighed and wished that I had such relics in my
own house.
Men. That was a sacrilegious wish.
Og. I admit it, and I humbly asked pardon from the
Saint before leaving the church. We were then conducted to
the sacristy.* How many rich silken vestments were there
displayed !t What a number of golden candlesticks ! We
saw in the same place the staff of St. Thomas. It seemed
a reed covered with silver plate, very light, not remarkable
for its workmanship, and it did not reach higher than the
waist.
Men. Was there no cross ?
Og. I did not see any. His pall was shown, which was
made of silk, but of a coarse texture. It had not any gold
or jewels upon it. There was also the napkin for wiping
his face, on which were to be seen very plainly the stains of
blood. We gladly kissed these tokens of the simple habits of
our forefathers.
Men. Are not these shown to every one ?
Og. Certainly not, my good friend.
Men. How was it, then, that so much confidence was
placed in you that nothing was concealed from you 1
* Probably the chapel of St. Andrew.
f In the inventory of relics we find that all these vestments were
carefully preserved till the Reformation. We may form some idea
of the number of all the relics when we hear that the inventory
occupies eight folio pages in Dart s "History of the Cathedral."
136 VISIT TO CANTERBURY.
Og. I had some acquaintance with William Warham,
the Archbishop, who gave me a letter of introduction.
Men. I hear from many that he is a man of remarkable
courtesy.
Og. Nay, rather you would say if you knew him, that
he is courtesy itself. lie has so much learning, so much
simplicity of character, so much piety, that you would say
that nothing is wanting to make him a perfect Bishop. We
were then conducted back to the upper floor ; for behind the
high altar we ascended again by a flight of steps into another
church, as it were. There, in a chapel we saw the whole
figure* of the Saint, set in gold and jewels. Here an unfore
seen occurrence almost spoiled my pleasure.
Men. I guess what you are going to say.
Og. Here my companion, Gratianus, showed great rude
ness. He interrupted the attendant priest in the midst of
a prayer, by saying to him, " Tell me, my good father, is
what I hear true, that Thomas, when he was alive, was
very kind to the poor f The priest assented, and began to
enumerate his many acts of kindness to them. Then he
continued ; " I do not think that his feelings towards them
are changed, excepting perhaps for the better." The priest
agreed with him. He then said, " When the Saint was so
liberal to the poor while he was poor himself, and had need
of money for the supply of his bodily wants, can you sup
pose that he would be displeased now when he is rich and
has need of nothing, if a poor widow who has starving
children at home, or daughters whose virtue is in danger
from the want of a dowry, or a husband lying on the bed
of sickness, and destitute of the means of support, having
* The "tota facies," which translators have rendered "the whole
face," was more probably a whole length, than a head. Professor
Willis thinks so, for he calls it the image of St. Thomas. He sup
poses it to have stood in the Corona.
VISIT TO CANTERBURY. 137
first asked his permission, should take a mere trifle from
this vast wealth for the support of her family, from one
who was most willing to give it, either as a free gift or as
a loan to be repaid ?" Finding that the priest, who had
charge of the golden figure, made him no answer, Gratianus
said in his usual vehement manner, " I am sure that the
Saint would be glad if, now that he is dead, he relieved by
his wealth the wants of the poor." The priest, directly he
heard him, began to knit his brow, to put out his lips, and
to look at us with the eyes of a Gorgon, and I do not doubt
that he would have driven us out of the church with very
violent abuse, if he had not known that we had letters of
introduction from the Archbishop. I contrived, however, to
appease his anger by an apology, saying that Gratianus did
not mean what he said, but was only joking in his usual
manner, and I at the same time gave him money.
Men. I highly commend your piety. I sometimes, how
ever, think seriously how it can be said that they have not
been guilty of a crime who do not set any bounds to them
selves, and spend so much money in the erection, adorn
ment, and enriching of churches. I admit, in regard to the
sacred vestments and the ves sels of the church, that a pro
per respect should be paid to the solemnity of public wor
ship. I think, also, that the structure should have a gran
deur peculiar to itself. But what is the use of so many
holy water vessels, so many candlesticks, so many golden
images ? Why should so much money be spent upon the
organs, as they call them ? For we are not satisfied with one
organ in a church. Is it fitting that so great an ex
pense should be incurred for all this musical noise, when in
the meantime our brothers and sisters and the living temples
of Christ are perishing from hunger and thirst?
Og. In these matters all pious and wise men wish for
moderation ; but since it is a fault which arises from un-
138 VISIT TO CANTERBURY.
bounded piety, we may well excuse it, especially when we
think of the opposite conduct of those who despoil the
churches of their wealth. The money just referred to is
generally given by kings and great men, and it would be
much worse spent in gambling or in war. If you take
away any of this wealth, first of all it is considered an act
of sacrilege ; then those who usually give, hold their hands ;
then we are told that we may plunder the churches. We
must remember too that these men are rather the guardians
than the owners of all this wealth. I would rather see a
church remarkable for the magnificence of its sacred furni
ture, than like some, which are bare and mean, and resemble
stables more than churches.
Men, But we read of bishops in former days who were
commended because they sold the sacred vessels, and applied
the money to the relief of the poor.
Og. They are still praised, but we do nothing more than
praise them. We have not the liberty to imitate them, and
it would not, I think, be a pleasure to us to do so.
Men. I am interrupting you.; I want to hear the end of
your story.
Og. I will now finish in a few words. The Head of all
these priests then came to us.
Men. Who? the Abbot ?
Og. He has the mitre and income, but he has not the
name of an Abbot. He is called a Prior, because the Arch
bishop is really the Abbot. For in ancient times every
Archbishop was an Abbot and a monk.
Men. I should not object to being called a camel if I
had the wealth of an Abbot.*
Og. He seemed to me -a pious and wise man, not unac
quainted with the theology of the Scotists. He opened to
* Thomas Gold-worthy was the last Prior of Canterbury.
VISIT TO CANTERBURY.
us a chest in which the remainder of the body of the Saint
is said to rest.
Men. Did you see the bones ?
Og. You are not allowed to do so, and it would not be
possible to see them without ladders ; but we saw a golden
shrine covered with a wooden canopy, which, having been
raised by ropes, disclosed very valuable treasures.
Men. What do you mean ?
Og. The gold formed the least valuable part of them.*
We also saw rare and very large jewels which sparkled and
glittered. Some of them were larger than the eggs of a
goose. Several monks stood very devoutly around it ; all,
after the lid had been raised, worshipped them. The Prior
with a white wand touched each jewel, mentioning the
name in French, its value, and the name of the giver. The
best had been presented by kings. t
Men. He must have had a remarkable memory.
Og. You are quite right ; but constant practice is a great
help, for he often does it. Then he brought us back to the
crypt. The Virgin Mother has her abode there ; but it is
rather dark, and is quite surrounded with more than one
iron screen.
Men. What is she afraid of?
Og. Of nothing, I should think, but thieves. For I never
saw any place which more abounded in wealth.;}:
* The German lierald of Charles V. said that it was impossible to
describe its preoiousness from the value of its rings and innumerable
gems. These were borrowed by Edward III. for his expedition to
France.
t Among them were two jewels, given as his ransom by the King
of France, and worth 10,000 crowns. Louis VII., of France, gave,
in 1177, the regal diamond of France, which Henry VIII. converted
into a thumb-ring.
J When Henry VIII., in 1538, attacked the Church, from the
spoils of St. Thomas s shrine alone, two chests were filled, so large
140 VISIT TO CANTERBURY.
Men. You say that it is concealed.
Og. When lights were brought we saw a more than
royal spectacle. . . . We were afterwards brought back to
the sacristy. A box was drawn forward there covered with
black leather. It was placed on the table and opened ; all
then bent their knees and worshipped.
Men. What was in it ?
Og. Some linen rags, most of them retaining marks.
With these, we were told, the Saint wiped his nose, the
sweat from his face or neck, or the dirt from other parts of his
body. Again my friend Gratianus was very rude. The Prior,
knowing that he was an Englishman of high station, kindly
offered to him one of the rags, thinking that he was making
him a present with which he would be highly delighted.
But Gratianus, not at all pleased, touched it with the tips
of his fingers with a look of great disgust, and contemptu
ously put it down, making, at the same time, a sort of
whistle. For this was his way if he met with anything
which displeased him. I was very much ashamed of my
companion s conduct, and was afraid of the consequences.
The Prior wisely took no notice of what had happened, and
having offered us a cup of wine, politely took leave of us.
We then proceeded towards London Not far from
Canterbury we came to a narrow, hollow, and steep lane,
with a high bank on both sides, through which every tra
veller must pass.* On the left side of the road is a little
house for old mendicants.t As soon as they see a horse-
that eight strong men could scarcely carry them on their shoulders.
Nothing of less value than gold was carried away.
* Harbledown Hill, on which the pilgrims knelt down at the sight
of the Cathedral, and then rose and shouted.
t St. Nicholas Lazar House, Harbledown, one mile from the west
gate of the city. It retains a gate-house and chapel of the llth
century.
VISIT TO CANTERBURY. 141
man approaching, one runs out and sprinkles him with holy
water, and then offers him the upper leather of a shoe, with
a brass ring in it, in which there is a glass like a jewel.
Pilgrims are expected to kiss it, and to give a small piece
of money. Gratianus rode on my left hand, and was
nearest to the house. He bore tolerably well the sprinkling
with water, but when the shoe was held out, he asked the
man what was meant by it. He said that he was offering
to him the shoe of St. Thomas. He became very angry,
and turning to me said, " What, do these idiots want us to
kiss the shoes of every good man ? Nay, they will ask us
to kiss their spittle, and their other abominations." I took
pity on the old man, and consoled him with the present of
a small piece of money.
Men. I think that Gratianus was angry not altogether
without reason. If shoes and the soles of them are kept as
an evidence that those to whom they belonged led a frugal
life, I should have no great fault to find ; but it seems to
me a great piece of impudence to thrust slippers, and shoes,
and stockings, upon every one to be kissed. If, indeed,
any one should do it of his own accord, from a very pious
feeling, I think that he may well be excused.*
Ocj. To tell you the truth, I think that it is better that
these things should be left alone ; but my plan is to find
whatever good I can in those evils which cannot be sud
denly corrected
These questions were not, as Erasmus fondly hoped, to
find a peaceful solution. This satirical Colloquy, " Pere-
grinatio Eeligionis ergo," or " Journey on account of Eeli-
gion," having heen published and read over England and
the rest of Europe, no doubt contributed to prevent the
fulfilment of his wishes ; for it served to expose in all their
* Thus many superstitious and idolatrous actions may be excused.
This is an indulgence which the sacred Scriptures nowhere concede.
142 VISIT TO CANTERBURY.
undisguised and naked deformity the superstitions of the
Ohurch of .Rome, and to excite against them the indignation
which is here so justly expressed by Dean Colet. In fact,
his scheme of a peaceful reformation was, as we shall see
hereafter, a mere chimera. We can have very little doubt
that the state of things disclosed in this Colloquy, which, it
appears very plainly from the note on Walsingham as to
the queries prepared by the visitors sent by Henry VIII.,
that the monarch had read, led to a closer examination of
matters in the Priory, and to the discovery of that forging
of relics and feigning of miracles which caused the royal
order to be issued twenty-five years later, for the public
burning of the image of the Virgin at Chelsea, and to the
ridiculous summons issued about the same time by Henry,
at Canterbury, to the dead Archbishop to answer to a charge
of treason, to the burning of his bones, and to the confisca
tion to the king s uses of the brooches ; gems, orient pearls,
chains, and gold which Erasmus describes as unfolded to
his astonished view.
HIS PRIDE ON ACCOUNT OF HIS FAME.
CHAPTER VI.
JOURNEY TO BASLE FOR THE PRINTING OF THE NEW TES
TAMENT AND ST. JEROME MISTAKEN ESTIMATE OF POPE
LEO REASONS FOR ABANDONING THE IDEA OF SETTLING
IN ENGLAND CHARACTER AND OPENIONS OF MORE AND
COLET. (A.D. 1514 16.)
THE object of Erasmus in taking his departure from Eng
land was, that he might have his Greek New Testament
and the works of St. Jerome published at Basle by Froben,
the printer. In the beginning of July, 1514, we find him
at Hammes Castle, near Calais, with his friend, Lord Mount-
joy, from which he wrote to Servatius the letter already
referred to, containing the reasons for his refusal to comply
with his request, and return to a monastery.* In this letter
he informs him that Spain, Italy, Germany, France, Eng
land, and Scotland were inviting him to become their guest.
"There is no Cardinal at Rome," he adds, "who is not will
ing to receive me as a brother. . . . This honour I owe not
to rny wealth, which I neither have nor wish for ; nor to
my ambition, a passion to which I have always been a per
fect stranger ; but to my learning, which our countrymen
ridicule, but the Italians worship. v ln England there is not
* Op. torn. iii. p. 1527, edit. Lugd.
144 IN THE HANDS OF THE CUSTOM-HOUSE OFFICERS.
a Bishop who does not delight in being addressed "by me r
who is not anxious to have me as a guest, or to reside in
his house." Then follows the description of the kindly
feelings of the King and Archbishop towards him, which
has been already given.* He adds, " I must now say a few
words about my works. I think that you have read the
Enchiridion, by which not a few admit that they have been
encouraged to the pursuit of piety. I take no merit to my
self ; but I thank Christ, and attribute to Him any good
which it may have done. . . . For these last two years,
besides many other things, I have corrected the text of the
Epistles of St. Jerome. . . . By a collation of Greek and
ancient manuscripts, I have corrected the text of the whole
of the New Testament, and I have made annotations on
more than a thousand passages, which will be of use to
theologians. I have begun Commentaries on St. Paul s
Epistles, which I will finish as soon as I have published the
other works ; for it is my purpose to spend my life in the
pursuit of sacred learning. ... I must now go to Germany
that is, to Basle to publish my lucubrations."
He wrote the following letter on the same day to his
friend Ammonius, in which he informs him that he had
asain fallen into the hands of the Custom-house officers :t
O
" I have had a safe passage. We sailed at seven o clock
a most convenient hour. The sea was quite calm ; the wind
favourable ; the sky bright. I suffered, however, greatly
from anxiety ; for those pirates carried off my baggage, in
which were my lucubrations, to another vessel. They did
it with the design of stealing something, if possible ; or at
all events of extorting from me some coins by selling me
my property. When therefore I thought that what had
cost me the labour of so many years was lost altogether, I
* See pages 106, 107.
t Op. torn. iii. p. 307, edit. Bas.
GIFTS FROM HIS FRIENDS. 145
felt as much grief as a mother when death has deprived her
of her children. In all other matters, too, they treat stran
gers in such a manner that it is better for them to fall into
the hands of the Turks. I often wonder that wretches of
this kind are tolerated by the Kings of England, for they
cause great annoyance to visitors. They also bring a dis
grace upon the whole island, for every one relates in his own
country the bad treatment he has experienced, and others
form their idea of the nation from the conduct of these men.
I do not know whether I have told you that the King him
self has dismissed me in the kindest possible manner, and
that the Bishop of Lincoln* told me that I might certainly
entertain very good hopes for the future. He did not, how
ever, make me any present, nor did I venture to mention
the matter to him, for I fancied that he would think me im
pertinent. The Bishop of Durham gave me on my departure
six angels, and that, too, of his own accord. The Archbishop
sought the opportunity of making me a similar present ; the
Bishop of Rochester treated me like a king. I carry all that
they gave with me. I wish you to know this, that no one
may think that I have made my journey a pretext for raising
a large sum of money. If fortune should smile upon me, and
people keep their word, I shall soon return to England."
I shall not describe minutely the journey from Calais to
Basle, which he made, as usual, on horseback. Near Ghent,
while he was stooping on one side to speak to his servant,
his horse shied to the other side at some clothes spread in
the path to dry. The consequence was that, in endeavour
ing to keep his seat, he gave his back a violent wrench, which
caused him excruciating agony. He arrived with difficulty
at the inn at Ghent, where he thought that he must soon
die. But, as he told his friend, Mountjoy, in consequence of
a vow made to St. Paul that, if he recovered he would finish
* Wolsey.
10
146 RECEPTION ON HIS WAT TO BASLE.
his Commentary on the Epistle to the Romans, he found the
next morning that he was quite well, and was able to pro
ceed on his journey.* He thus showed that even the most
exalted minds cannot cast off the influences of the super
stitions by which they are surrounded.
"VVe find from his letters that he received everywhere un
mistakable proofs of the esteem in which he was held ; that
at Maintz, as he informed Colet, much was made of him ;
that at Strasburg he was^ entertained by several distin
guished men of learning; and that the chief men of Schele-
stadt paid the same respect to him as if he had been a person
of the first rank. Having heard that he was coming, they
sent him a present of wine, and asked him to dine with them
on the following day. He showed his gratitude by cele
brating the praises of the city in a short poem.t , He then
went to Basle, accompanied by John Sapidus, the pupil of
his friend Wimphelingus, formerly Professor of Divinity at
Heidelberg. As he did not wish to be annoyed by the
notice of strangers, he told Sapidus to conceal his name,
adding that he wanted only a fewl-select friends at Basle.
He thus writes to his friend "Wimphelingus : " At first, in
consequence of what I said to him, I was introduced to
those only whom I most wished to see. Here is Beatus
PJienanus, with whose prudence and retiring disposition, as
well as judgment in matters of learning, I am greatly de
lighted. I much enjoy the daily intercourse that I have
with him. Here is Gerard Lystrius, a young man well
acquainted with the art_of medicine, and with the Latin,
Greek, and Hebrew languages, who is quite devoted to me.
Here is also Bruno Amerbach, a man of great learning, who
also knows the same three languages. I gave John Froben a
letter from Erasmus, adding that I was very intimate indeed
* Op. torn. iii. ep. 182, edit. Lugd.
t "Encomium Slestadii." Op. torn, i. p. 1223, edit. Lugd.
INTRODUCTION TO FEOBEN. 1 147
with him, that I had been appointed by him to make
arrangements for the publication of his books, and that he
was to consider whatever I did as done by Erasmus himself.
I then said that I was so like Erasmus, that he who had seen
the one had seen the other. He now, to his very great
amusement, discovered the trick which had been played upon
him. Froben s father-in-law then paid all that we owed at
the inn, and received us with our horses and baggage into
his house."*
The person just mentioned was John Amerbach, who,
with his three sons and Froben, superintended the printing-
press at Basle. The first, who was now considerably ad
vanced in life, was unable to take an active part in the busi
ness j but the last four, with Beatus Khenanus for a cor
rector of the press, from a pure love of the work, devoted all
their energies to the publication of the lucubrations of Eras
mus. The latter was so much interrupted by visits from
learned men at Basle, and by invitations to dinner, that at
last he was obliged to decline society altogether. He says,
in a letter to his friend, Lord Mountjoy, written at the end
of August, " that Germany had received him with so much
honour, that he was almost put to the blush." He adds, " that
now shut up, he was superintending the printing of his trifles,
engaged with no less zeal in the matter in question than the
Emperor in his war with Venice, "t
Erasmus had been continually urged by his friends in
Italy, especially by Cardinal Grimanus his introduction to
whom has been described in a former chapter to spend a
short time in that country. Instead, however, of doing so he
left Basle, and arrived in England in the spring of 1515. He
wrote to the Cardinal, after his arrival, the following apology : J
* Letter to Wimphelingus. Jortin, vol. ii. p. 457.
t Op. torn. iii. p. 285, edit. Bas.
J Ibid:, p. G5.
102
148 LETTER TO CARDINAL GEIMAKUS.
" You must not suppose that in not coming to your Excel
lency after my first and last meeting, as you had directed
and I promised, I intended to put a slight upon you. Your
own refinement and courteous manners are the cause of my
apparent neglect of you. You will ask for an explanation
of so strange a statement. I will give it to you plainly, and
as a German ought to do frankly. At the time you invited
me, it was my intention to pay a visit to Britain. To
this land I was bound by old ties of affection. I was drawn to
it also by the very large promises of powerful friends, as
well as by the very kindly feelings of the most prosperous of
kings towards me. I had adopted this island as my country,
and had chosen it as the home of my old age. I was invited
nay, urged to come to it by many letters, in which a
promise of mountains of gold was made to me. From, these
promises I had formed the idea of an amount of wealth, such
as I should think could scarcely be washed down by ten
Pactoli. I was afraid therefore that if I returned to your
Highness I should be led to change my purpose. For when,
by one conversation with you, you so captivated me, what
would you have done if I had held frequent and closer inter
course with you 1 For your great amiability, your persuasive
eloquence, your admirable learning, the assurance of having
your friendly advice on which I could fully rely, would move
even a heart of iron. ... I found, therefore, the love for your
city, which I had with difficulty shaken off, again slowly in
creasing. It was such that if I had not before left Eome sud
denly, I should never have left it at all. I tore myself away
therefore, that I might not afterwards be prevented from
going, and flew to England, rather than proceeded on my
journey to it .... I cannot fail to have a strong desire for
Eome, when I think of the numerous advantages connected
with that city. First of all, it is the most celebrated city on
the face of the earth; it is the light of the world, and the high
LETTER TO CARDINAL ST. GEORGE. 149
stage on which the eyes of men are fixed. I should enjoy,
too, there, perfect freedom, the most delightful of all bless
ings. I should have the great advantage of many libraries
rich in literary wealth, as well as of an acquaintance with
many men of learning, and of most agreeable conversations
with them j I should be surrounded by so many monuments
of antiquity, and I should find so many lights of the world
gathered together in one place." . . . He concludes his let
ter by telling him that Borne should see him the next win
ter if God, the King, and the Archbishop of Canterbury,
should allow him to leave England.
The following is an extract from his letter to Cardinal St.
George, written at the same time - :
" I have never, in the midst of the tumult of war,
discontinued my literary labours. I have published, among
many other things, my work on the Adages, which I have
carefully corrected, and so enlarged that I have added to it
the fourth part of a volume. The whole of the works of
St. Jerome are being printed. I should rather say that he
is having a second birth given to him ; for he was so cor
rupted and mutilated, that he does not seem so much re
stored, as now published for the first time. A great work is
being printed, intended to be, as it was before, in ten volumes;
and with so much care, and at so great an expense, that I
will venture to affirm that for the last twenty years no work
as expensive, or on which an equal amount of care has been
bestowed, has issued from that printing-press. . . . Last
year I stayed eight months at Basle for this very purpose.
I have been during that time at a very great expense. In
the next autumn I will certainly revisit Italy, that I may
examine your very rich libraries. ... I wish to be guided
by your advice as to whom I should dedicate this work. I
owe much to the Archbishop of Canterbury, and he is very
deserving of the honour of having his name inscribed on my
* Op. torn. iii. p. 70, edit. Bas.
150 LETTER TO LEO X.
page. ... I see also that the" dedication to Leo will be a
great recommendation to my work, and that it will be a
great honour to him. . . . ;
The following is part of a fulsome letter to Pope Leo,,
written shortly after this time :* "I see everywhere, I hear
everywhere throughout Christendom, that the highest and
the lowest congratulate themselves on having such a Prince.
All indeed most justly praise you, but none have better
reason for doing so than those who are influenced by a love
of true piety and polite learning ; for the noble and im
mortal family of the Medici, to whom the world is indebted
for Leo, has always been the nurse of men remarkable for
their virtues and for their literary excellence. To your
great natural genius has been added the advantage of a
very good education ; you have also had for your instructor,
Politian, a man remarkable for his refinement, who was far
better able than any one else to draw out the abilities with
which you are happily gifted."
He afterwards gave him an account of his literary
labours.
" I have worked so hard to give a new life to St. Jerome,
that I have almost killed myself. I may, without the least
hesitation, solemnly declare that it has cost Jerome less
trouble to write his own works than it has cost me to re
store and illustrate them. The work has been carried on
for some time with great ardour. Jerome will have his
second birth at the celebrated city of Basle, in Switzerland,
in the printing establishment of Froben. There is not a
more careful one anywhere, nor one from which a greater
number of good books issue, especially those which relate
to sacred literature. This is not the work of one person,
nor has one man money enough for it ; several very learned
men have long worked very hard at it. The three brothers
* Op. torn. iii. p. 6?, edit. Bas.
THE AMERBACHS, AND FROBEN, THE PRINTERS. 151
Amerbach have given me most assistance. They, chiefly,
have carried it on, having shared the expense and trouble
with Froben. This ^family has been well prepared by the
fates themselves for the work of giving a new life to St.
Jerome. Their father, a most excellent man, has taken
care to have his sons instructed in Greek, Hebrew, and
Latin. He, in the decline of life, has left this work as a
kind of inheritance to his children, devoting whatever
money he has to the undertaking. And these excellent
young men discharge diligently the duties entrusted to
them by their father. But your Holiness will say, * Whajfc
is all this to me V I answer that there is no one more
highly commended, no one more celebrated than Jerome ;
but yet I see very plainly how much honour, how much
weight, your name will bring to him. The glory of Leo is
very great, and yet there will be, if I am not mistaken, no
little addition to it if so rare, so vast, so celebrated a work,
as it were born again, should go forth to the world under
your auspices. And it seems to be very proper that all the
branches of learning which are the offspring of peace,
should flourish again by means of that Pontiff who has
procured for the world literary leisure, and peace, the
foster-mother of learning."
This letter was doubtless written by Erasmus for the pur
pose of ingratiating himself with the Pope. The latter
sent to him a very courteous answer;* but only gave
him the assurance that if he should have the opportunity,
he would extend to him his bounty hereafter. Erasmus
did not dedicate St. Jerome to him, probably because he
was disgusted with him on account of the coldness of this
answer ; but, as he had at first intended, to Archbishop War-
ham. Leo gave a plain proof soon after this time that he
did not wish Erasmus to take up his abode at Rome, for he
* Op. torn, iii. p. 72, edit. Bas.
152 HIS HIGH OPINION OF LEO X.
wrote a letter to Henry VIII. , from which we gather that
it was his desire that the King should give him preferment
rather than himself. He spoke in the highest terms of
him as a man of learning, and endeavoured to interest Henry
in his favour by informing him that Erasmus had, in a re
cent letter, highly commended him for his magnanimity
and his numerous virtues.*
After having read the condemnation of the Popes as a
class in the c; Praise of Folly," we shall perhaps be surprised
at the exalted opinion of Leo which Erasmus expresses at
the beginning of his letter, arid shall imagine that he is
here addressing him in the language of unmeaning compli
ment. But Erasmus deluded himself with the idea that he
had at the time in question good reason for thus extolling
him. He had, as we have seen, lashed most severely Alex
ander VI. and Julius II. in his "Praise of Folly;" the one,
because his character was stained with all those vices which
disgrace human nature, and place a man on a level with the
beasts that perish : the other, because he was constantly
flinging wide his standard to the winds, and plunging his
country into war, with a view simply to the gratification
of his inordinate ambition. But Leo seemed to be influ
enced by motives and animated by feelings of a totally op
posite character. " Let Julius," he said, in writing on the
proverb, Dulcebellum inexpertis/t " have his magnificent
triumphs. It is not for the like of me to say how far they
become the Head of the Christian Church. Leo will gain
far greater glory by the restoration of peace, than Julius by
the bravery which he has shown in the numerous wars he
has carried on throughout the world, or has brought to a
successful termination." He seemed, in fact, to Erasmus,
to have risen on Christendom with the benignant influence
* Op. torn. iii. p. 73, edit. Bas.
t Op. torn. ii. p. 970, edit. Lugd.
REVIVAL OP PAGANISM. 153
of a vernal sun after a long and dreary night of storms ;
while civilization, knowledge, and humanity revived with
returning day. Under his .reign, a golden age seemed to
have begun in Europe. Leo was eminently the advocate of
a peaceful policy. He had stilled the tempest of war ; he
had brought mighty kings, who were before bitter enemies
to one another, into fraternal union. He had induced
Henry VIII. to lay down his arms ; he had persuaded Louis,
King of France, to allow him to arbitrate between him and
his enemies. He had also restored to their country many
Italian princes who had been driven into exile.* This
Pope was likewise the bitter opponent of the scholastic
theology. He was also the great patron of polite learning.
"Under such a prince," wrote Erasmus, "as at a given
signal, all in the world who are renowned for their learning,
or remarkable for their piety, are hastening to Kome as to a
theatre."*
But Erasmus was doomed to disappointment. He did,
indeed, declare his belief that " the authority of the Scrip
tures will not suffer, if corrupt readings be removed from
them, corrections be made in the text, and the right sense
be given to them 3" but still he could not refrain from ex
pressing his fears lest, " under the pretext of the revival of
ancient literature, Paganism should endeavour to raise its
head, for there are amongst Christians those who acknow
ledge Christ only by name, but breathe the spirit of the
heathen world." J He has combated this evil, as we shall
see hereafter, in the Preface to his " Novum Instrumentum."
His fears were fully realized. The character of that period
has been well described by Lord Macaulay. " The more re
spectable members of the Court of Rome were utterly unfit
* Letter to Leo. Op. torn. iii. p. 64, edit. Bas.
t Letter to Car. Grimanus. Ibid., p. 69.
J Epist. Gwolfgango Fabricio Capitoni. Op. torn. iii. p. 10, edit. Bas.
154 LORD MACAULAY S DESCRIPTION OP THE AGE.
to be ministers of religion. They were men like Leo X. ;
men who with the Latinity of the Augustan age, had
acquired its atheistical and scoffing spirit. Their years
glided by in a soft dream of sensual and intellectual volup
tuousness. Choice cookery, delicious wines, lovely women,
hounds, falcons, horses, newly-discovered manuscripts of the
classics, sonnets, and burlesque romances in the sweetest
Tuscan, just as licentious as a fine sense of the graceful
would permit, plate from the hand of Benvenuto, designs
for palaces by Michael Angelo, frescoes by Raphael, busts,
mosaics, and gems just dug up from among the ruins of
ancient temples and villas, these things were the delight
and even the serious business of their lives. The highest
praise of the chiefs of the Church was that they were good
judges of Latin composition, of paintings, and statues ; but
their severest studies had a Pagan character, and they were
suspected of laughing in secret at the sacraments which
they administered, and of believing no more of the Gospel
than of the Morgante Maggiore."* Erasmus has expressed
his astonishment at the blasphemies of these men of learn
ing. They sought to prove out of Pliny that there is no
difference between the souls of men and those of brutes.t
Many professed a belief in the philosophy of Plato and
Aristotle, while they denied the fundamental articles of the
Christian faith. Some even dared to call in question the
great doctrine of the soul s immortality.
I have little to add to Lord Macaulay s eloquent lan
guage. Every syllable of it may be applied to Leo X. The
careful student of history knows well that, even as a man
of learning, he did not deserve the eulogium which Erasmus
here pronounces upon him. He may indeed have been a
patron of learned men ; but, as he was excessively indo-
* Macaulay s Essay on Ranke s "History of the Popes."
t Burigny, "Life of Erasmus," vol. i. p. 139.
MISTAKEN ESTIMATE OF POPE LEO. 155
lent, and much given to luxurious indulgence, he cannot
really have made much progress in a knowledge of polite
literature. The adulation of Erasmus and others may
have served to delude him with the idea that he had that
taste and knowledge which they ascribed to him. Though
he did not possess the warlike ambition of Julius, or exhibit
the savage qualities and coarse debauchery of Borgia, yet he
was, on account of his scoffing spirit and his vices, as unfit
for the pastoral office as these men, or the worst of his pre
decessors. He was a voluptuary to the end of his days.
He impaired his faculties and shortened his life by his ex
cesses. Multitudes had learnt to despise his pretensions to
the sacred character with which he was invested. Erasmus
was deluding himself when he supposed that Leo would
be the instrument of regenerating human society. A peace
ful reformation, to be gradually accomplished by the pro
gress of learning, was in fact a mere chimera. Literature
never can be the means of enabling men to cast off the for
malism and superstition of ages, and of bringing them into
the glorious liberty wherewith Christ maketh His people
free.
Erasmus seems to have left England on his return to
Basle before the end of the summer of 1515. He spent a
short time here in the autumn of 1516, and in the spring of
1517 ; this was his last visit to this country. "We shall be
surprised that this should have been the case when we
remember that he fully intended to make England the home
of his old age. But we find that afterwards he could nofc
carry that intention into effect. At first, indeed, the war
like schemes of Henry VIII. were the cause of his departure
from our shores. The liberality of his patrons became less,
on account of the war taxes which they had to pay. The
House of Commons had too readily granted Henry a sub
sidy to enable him to arrest Louis XII. of France in his
156 DISAPPOINTED EXPECTATIONS FROM ENGLAND.
victorious career. The consequence was that his friends in
this country had neither leisure nor inclination to attend to
the literary schemes of Erasmus. He said in his letter to
Cardinal Grimanus, " Though my good fortune in England
has been greater than I deserved, yet it has not been alto
gether such as I expected, nor as my friends had promised
me."* These promises probably existed chiefly in his own
imagination. Again, writing to Cardinal St. George, he
said, " I had formed in my mind the idea of streams flow
ing to me producing more gold than Pactolus or Tagus.
But the storm of war very soon came and carried off the
King himself, the father of the golden age, and my other
friends from the muses. The trumpet of Julian had so
roused the whole world to arms."t
Those warlike operations continued for some time. I
need not describe them minutely. Suffice it to observe that
Henry VIII., after having in his first expedition against
France failed disgracefully, and after having in his second
taken only two unimportant towns, had concluded a treaty
with Louis, and had given in marriage to him his sister, the
Princess Mary, who, according to contract, ought to have
been long since married to Henry s former ally, Prince
Charles. Then, after having undertaken to assist Louis in
regaining the province of Navarre, which he had lately
aided his ally Ferdinand in conquering, he entered once
more after the death of the former into a secret alliance
with Ferdinand, the object of which was to humble the
pride of his successor, Francis I.
Erasmus gave the plainest proof that though a student, he
was alive to passing events, by condemning in the strongest
language the conduct of these monarchs. In the new edition
of the " Adages," which, as I have said, Froben was publish
ing, the following severe words are to be found : " Kings
* Op. torn. iii. p. 68, edit. Bas. t Ibid., p. 71.
CONDEMNATION OF THE KINGS OF HIS TIME. 157
who are scarcely men are called divine / they are invincible/
though they have never left the battle-field without being
conquered; * serene/ though they have turned the world
upside down in a tumult of wars ; illustrious, though
they grovel in profoundest ignorance of everything noble ;
Catholic, though they follow anything rather than
Christ."* No doubt the inherent baseness of this conduct,
the political dishonesty which it displayed, were the princi
pal reasons for the stern rebuke here administered. But
the considerations mentioned above gave additional bit
terness to it. He was obliged to become an exile from the
land of his adoption. He had lost the means of support
which he expected. The attempts of Erasmus to propitiate
Henry VIII., who, as we have seen, was very favourably
disposed towards him, by dedications, in one of which he
reminded him of their early intimacy, and subsequently by
his vindication of the King s authorship of the famous
answer to Luther, failed of the wished-for success. Henry
probably felt more deeply the loss of Erasmus when his
country was deprived of the fame which she might have
acquired by his residence in it. Perhaps, also, the treat
ment which he received from Wolsey was one of his reasons
for not taking up his abode permanently in England. Eras
mus may have become acquainted with him at Oxford,
where he was bursar of Magdalen College. He had dedi
cated to him not only a piece of Plutarch relating to the
benefit which we may gain from our enemies, but also his
Paraphrase on the Epistles of St. Peter. From the latter I
extract the following passage, which seems to show his
exalted opinion of the Cardinal as a patron of learning.
" Besides many men eminent for their erudition, there are
now growing up in Britain under your patronage several
* See the proverb "The beetle pursues the eagle." Op. torn. ii.
p. 869, edit. Lugd.
158 HIS TREATMENT BY WOLSEY.
young men of very great promise, who will hereafter become
more distinguished even than the former, if the gentle gale
of your favour shall breathe upon them."* Wolsey actually
offered to Erasmus a canonry of Tournay, of which See he
was bishop. Though he had no great wish for preferment
of this kind, he was eager to hold it, because his friend,
Lord Mountjoy, was governor of the city. But when the
instrument for his installation had been signed by the Car
dinal, and when the canons were congratulating themselves
on the certainty of having this distinguished man as a
member of their body, he gave it to another person. The
Cardinal assigned as his reason for this disappointment that
he intended to give him better preferment. But he never
fulfilled that promise. He gave him, indeed, a small pen
sion out of the church of York, which was very far from
being an adequate reward of his merits, and he promised
him a bishopric. But Erasmus justly regarded that pro
mise as implying an intention to evade the payment of a
part of what was due to him.t He afterwards spoke in a
very bitter tone of the Cardinal, and of his false promises.
" I have dedicated," he wrote, " to the Cardinal of York
my work on Plutarch, and yet I have not become a farthing
richer by his munificence.":]: He had told him in his letters
that he had fixed the anchor of his happiness upon him, and
that he would hasten his return, if, in the meantime, he
would be generous enough to provide him with the means
of refreshing mind and body, wearied with hard work.
But he soon ceased to depend upon him.
* Eras. Paraph, torn. ii. p. CG6, edit. Bas. 1534.
t Knight s " Life of Erasmus," p. 376.
$ Erasmus Catalogus Operum ab ipso conscriptus, tomo prirno
prceiixus, edit. Bas.
Erasmi Epist. Tho. Card. Ebor. Op. torn. iii. p. 1811, edit.
Lugd.
HIS OPINION OF WOLSEY. 159
We must not suppose, however, that Erasmus was guilty
of servile adulation either of Wolsey or of his royal master.
On the contrary, his letters to both are expressed in lan
guage of familiarity, as well as of respect, and show very
plainly that he considers that by his correspondence he is
conferring an honour upon them, as well as receiving it from
them. No doubt the change observable in the way in which
he spoke of Wolsey is to be attributed to the unbounded
arrogance which he displayed some time before his fall.
He said in his letters that he was not civil nor easy of ac
cess to his inferiors ; he pitied his friends for the hardships
which he imposed upon them; and added that he was feared
by all, but beloved by few or none.* Probably the sense
of unjust treatment by him from which he smarted, imparted
additional bitterness to the language which he used regard
ing him. Erasmus, however, did not reflect that he had
himself stood in the way of his own [ advancement. The
Papal throne had been for many years the great object of
Wolsey s ambition. But Erasmus had endeavoured to shake
it to its very foundation. If he had really wished to secure
the goodwill of the great Cardinal, he should not have
laughed to scorn, with good reason indeed, but still not
wisely for his own interests, the claims of the schoolmen,
of whose philosophy Wolsey was the warm advocate, to be
the theological dictators of Christendom; he should not
have made himself a heretic in his estimation by condemn
ing the corrupt practices of the Church of Rome in language
which seemed to imply that he considered her the Apoca
lyptic " mother of harlots and abominations of the earth."
Thus, then, it seems not unlikely that Wolsey, by with
holding from Erasmus, for the reasons just given, the royal
patronage of which he was, in fact, the dispenser, having
really more power over it than the King himself, may have
* Knight s "Life of Erasmus," p. 378.
160 HIS FRIENDSHIP FOR DEAN COLET.
been partly the cause of his unwillingness and inability to
reside permanently in England. He had reason, as he said
in a letter to a friend, to be sorry that he had come to this
country, and that he had refused better offers in foreign
lands.*
Erasmus would be deeply grieved that he was compelled
to depart from England, because personal intercourse with
the friends whom he so dearly loved could now exist only
in the memory of days gone by. I have already fully
described the nature of the union between himself and Dean
Colet. He it was who taught him to lift up his voice
against the scholastic philosophy, to adopt the common
sense historical method of interpreting the Scriptures, and
to draw his lessons directly from St. Paul and the Gospels.
In a letter written in August, 1514, prefixed to a collection
of different pieces, including the Institutes of a Christian
Man, which, having been written by Colet for the use of
his school in English prose, had been turned into Latin
verse by Erasmus, he spoke of him as " a man than whom,
in my opinion, the kingdom of England has not another
more pious, or who more truly knows Christ."t He was
bound to him also by the love of polite letters, and by the
desire to improve education. In the letter already referred
to, written to Servatius in the same year, he described him
as a man much esteemed by every one, who united the
greatest learning with admirable piety. He added, " He,
as all know, has so great an affection for me, that there is
* Epist. Ad. Principi Veriano, op. torn. iii. p. 122, edit. Lugd.
Quoties pcenitet me fortunam quam ante triennium mihi Lovanii
offerebas, non amplexum fuisse.
t Seebohm s " Oxford Reformers," p. 300. Stray pieces, including
"The Institutes of a Christian Man," written by Colet.
+ Op. torn. iii. p. 1527, edit. Lugd.
SIR THOMAS 2IOEE. IG1
How deep was his sorrow when, in 1519, two years after
his last visit to England, he heard of his death, the
following extracts from letters to his friends bear full testi
mony. " true theologian ! wonderful preacher of
evangelical doctrine ! with what earnest zeal did he drink
in the philosophy of Christ ! ; How eagerly did he imbibe the
spirit and feelings of St. Paul ! How did the purity of his
whole life correspond to his heavenly doctrine ?" Again,
writing to Bishop Fisher :* ft I have written this weeping for
Colet s death. ... 1 know it is all right with him who,
escaped from this evil and wretched world, is in present
enjoyment of that Christ whom he loved so well when alive.
I cannot help mourning in the public name the loss of so
rare an example of Christian piety, so remarkable a preacher
of Christian truth."t
Erasmus would also feel deeply his separation from
Thomas More, whose gentle and endearing character had
exercised a fascinating influence over him, as, indeed, over
all with whom he held social and domestic intercourse.
His genial playfulness, and his love of real wit and sportive
raillery, formed a bond of union between him and one who,
as we see from his " Praise of ^olly," and his other works,
was very skilful in the use of those weapons. More also
greatly admired the boundless learning of Erasmus. The
following extract from a letter from the latter to Hutten,
written in 1519, two years after his last visit to England,
will give the best idea of his character at that time. J " If
you want a perfect pattern of real friendship, you must look
for it in More. He has so much affability, and suavity of
manner, that there is no one, however morose may be
* Letter to Lupset, Seebolim s translation, " Oxford Reformers,"
p. 504.
t Seebohm s translation, ibid.
+ Erasmus Ulrico Hutteuo. Op. torn. iii. p. 472, edit. Lugcl.
11
162 SIR THOMAS MOKE.
his disposition, whom he does not make cheerful
From his early boyhood he has been so accustomed to jok
ing, that it seems natural to him ; but yet he never descends
to buffoonery, and is very careful not to hurt anybody s
feelings by it There is nothing in the world, how
ever serious it may be, from which he does not extract
pleasantry. If he has intercourse with wise and learned
men, he is delighted with their genius ; if with unlearned
and foolish men, he enjoys their folly Xo one is less-
swayed by the opinion of the world, and no one is more
remarkable for his common sense. A great pleasure it is to
him to consider the form, the disposition, the affections of
different animals. He has every kind of bird in his house,
and every rare animal, as the ape, the fox, the ferret, and
the weasel From early life he has loved polite litera
ture. "When he was a young man, he applied himself to
the Greek language and to philosophical studies. His
father, who was in other respects a wise and prudent
man, was so far from assisting him in them, that when he
began them he took away his pecuniary allowance, and
almost disowned him, because he seemed unwilling to fol
low his own legal studies. Although, and with reason, his
mind revolted from them, yet he so applied himself to them
that suitors chose him as their advocate to conduct their
causes, and his income was larger than that of any lawyer.
He was also diligent in the study of volumes having refer
ence to the orthodox faith. When he was quite a young
man he gave public lectures on St. Augustine s Civitas Dei
to a crowded audience, and priests and old men were not
ashamed to be instructed in sacred things by a young lay
man. In the meantime he applied his mind altogether to
the duties of religion, to watchings, fastings, and prayers.
Nothing but the wish to marry prevented him from devot-
MOEE S WIFE AND FAMILY* 163
ing himself altogether to this kind of life. He wished
rather to be a chaste husband than an unholy priest."
Erasmus then goes on to tell his friend that More had
married a gentle girl, of good family, brought up in the
retirement of the country with her parents and sisters,
whom he had endeavoured to educate according to his own
tastes ; that he had instructed her in literature and every
kind of music, in the fond hope that she would be his com
panion through life ; that she had been carried off by an
early death, leaving three daughters and a son, Margaret,
Alice, Cicely, and John ; that a few months after her death,
More, with^a view to the care of his family, rather than to
any pleasure which he derived from the marriage, had taken
for his partner one who was neither beautiful nor a maiden,
as he used jokingly to tell her ; that from regard to More s
musical tastes, she had learned to sing and play on the
harp, and that the voice of contention was never heard in
this happy household.
He afterwards writes thus : " He has been more than
once sent out on a foreign embassy. When His most Serene
Highness, King Henry VIII., found that he had showed
great diplomatic skill,, he Was not satisfied till he had
dragged him into his service. Yes, dragged, I say, for no
one ever tried harder to be admitted to court, than he tried
to keep out of it. When this very excellent King deter
mined to surround himself with learned, wise, discreet, and
upright men, he invited a great many to come to him, but
More, first of all, with whom he is so intimate, that he
never allows him to leave him. If he wishes to discuss
serious matters, he goes to him at once for his opinion ; if
on the other hand he wishes to have the diversion of agree
able stories, he finds him a very pleasant companion. . .
No one has ever induced him to accept a present. He is
altogether without pride. In the midst of these weighty
112
MOKES STUDIES.
affairs he remembers his old friends, and returns to his be
loved literature. He employs all the influence arising
from his high office, and from his connection with a very
powerful King, in assisting his friends, and in promoting the
best interests of the state. Some he assists with money ;
others, by his influence ; others, by giving them a recom
mendation. If there are any whom he cannot assist in any
other way, he gives them good advice ; he never sends away
any without having comforted them. You would say
that More was the public patron of all poor men. . . ."
He again makes mention of his studies, which he de
scribes as the principal bond of union between them. He
informs Hutten that in the early part of his life he was
very fond of poetry that afterwards, by careful practice in
every kind of writing, he endeavoured to make his prose
style more agreeable ; that he delighted much in declama
tion ; and that, at More s suggestion, as we have already
seen, in order that he might -ascertain whether he had
improved in this art, they both wrote a full answer to
Lucian s arguments in favour of tyrannicide. He thus
continues : " He published Utopia for the purpose of
showing the causes of the decline of kingdoms. He had,
however, Britain chiefly in view, the condition of which he
has examined, and knows very well. He wrote the second
book first in his leisure moments ; afterwards as opportunity
offered, he added the first, which has a direct bearing on
the times You will not find a person who is
more successful in anything of this description ; for a happy
mode of expression aids the efforts of his genius. He is
very acute in disputations, so that he often comes into the
theological arena, and does the work of our greatest divines.
John Colet, a man of shrewdness and accurate judgment, says
of him in conversation, that there is but one genius in Eng
land, and that his name is Thomas More, though, indeed,
MOKE S "UTOPIA." 165
there are many distinguished for their learning. He is
a man of real piety, very remote from all superstition,
and has his fixed hours when he prays to God, not in
a formal manner, but in language which comes from the
heart. He converses in such a manner with his friends
respecting the world to come, that you see at once that he
is conversing on a favourite topic, and that he has a hope
full of immortality. Such is More even at court." . . .
The " Utopia " here mentioned was the greatest of More s
works. Erasmus correctly stated his object in writing
it. It was to show the contrast between its imaginary com
monwealth and the governments existing in Europe, and
especially in England, at the time of its publication. Thus,
while the other nations in those distant regions, their neigh
bours, are constantly breaking the most solemn treaties, the
Utopians never enter into a treaty at all, thinking that
words are altogether unnecessary when any one is deter
mined to disregard the natural tie existing between man
and man. Again, unlike almost every nation, they regard
war with a religious abhorrence, deeming that they cover
themselves with infamy by needlessly engaging in it.
More is evidently, in the whole of the passage just referred
to, with the most refined irony, administering a sharp re
buke to the Pope, Henry VIII., and the other monarchs of
Europe ; for he says that they religiously observe their
treaties. He attributes that observance entirely to the
good example set them by the Popes, and to the severity
with which they prosecuted all who were guilty of perfidy.
Now, as we have seen, the very contrary was the case.
They constantly violated their engagements, and without
any justifying pretext, plunged their countries into bloody
wars, because they were inflamed with a thirst for military
glory. Erasmus had already, as we have seen, in the
" Praise of Folly," made the Popes and the European mon-
166 MOEE S "UTOPIA."
arclis the objects of his satire. In the " Christian Prince, *
which was published at the same time with the " Utopia,"
and was designed for the special benefit of Prince Charles
of Castile and Arragon, afterwards the Emperor Charles V.,
he pursues the same line of argument as his friend.* He
shows that every prince ought to aim at the promotion of
the best interests of the people committed to his charge ;
that he ought even to retire from a war undertaken in self-
defence if he find that it is prejudicial to religion, that it
leads to the violation of justice, to the shedding of torrents
of blood, and to a lavish expenditure ; that the great object
of a wise prince will be to reduce taxation as much as pos
sible, to tax luxuries rather than necessaries, and to take
especial care not to tax the poor heavily and to aim rather
at the prevention than at the punishment of crime.
More shows a similar regard for the interests of the poor
in his " Utopia." When he wishes to condemn Henry VIII.
and the English parliament because they subjected the poor
to very heavy taxation on account of the war, and because,
notwithstanding the great demand for labour, they reduced
their wages as much as possible, in order that the rich
might not pay their proper proportion of war-taxes, when
further he wishes to censure them because they did not at
tempt to remove the ignorance which prevailed throughout
the country, he represents all the Utopians as being in a
prosperous condition, and every child in the community as
properly educated. With the same enlightened regard for
the interests of the poor, when he wished to indicate a rem
edy for the diseases which robbed the inhabitants of the
crowded metropolis of their beauty, their glory, and their
strength, and cut them off by thousands and tens of thou
sands out of the land of the living, he represents the streets
* Op. torn. iv. p. 433, edit. Bas.
MOKE S "UTOPIA." 167
of Utopia as wide, and free from those nuisances which al
ways have been found to be a fruitful source of pestilence ;
the houses and rooms as high and spacious, with many win
dows, so that the inhabitants are not inconveniently crowded
together, and there might be, when necessary, a current of
air through them ; while near them are waterworks, from
which they may obtain a plentiful supply of fresh water,
and behind them is a trim and well- stocked garden. Thus,
then, he anticipated the nineteenth century in the sugges
tions of those educational and sanitary arrangements which,
are no longer Utopian in the sense of the word as it has
been applied since More s day to the impossible schemes of
brain-sick enthusiasts, but seem likely to some extent
to be carried out, and to improve the moral and temporal
condition of the people of England.
We may in some degree gather More s religious views
from the " Utopia." We shall find that, as we shall see here
after, they are different from those which he adopted in the
later period of his life. When indeed he represents all the
sects as gathered together in the solemn gloom of a temple in
Utopia, with hearts free from anger and hatred, to join in a
service from which everything was carefully excluded which
was opposed to the prejudices or distasteful to the inclina
tions of the worshippers, conducted by a priest arrayed in
vestments wrought of birds plumage, we must not suppose
that he imagines comprehension to that extent to be a pos
sibility, but that he is simply condemning the endless di
visions which interrupted the harmony of European Chris
tians. We find a plain expression of his opinions on other
points. He speaks in derision of the abbots as " those holy
men who thought it not enough to live at their own ease,
and to do no good to_the public, but who resolved to^do it
168 RELIGIOUS VIEWS OF COLET, ERASMUS, AND MORE.
harm instead of good."* He accuses the preachers of that age
of " corruptingjthe Christian doctrine for they, observing
that men of the world did not frame their lives according
to the rules which Christ has given, have fitted His doctrine,
as if it had been a leaden rule, to their lives, that in some
way they might agree with one another."t He reckons
" the Friars as vagabonds, who ought to be taken up and
put under restraint j"| he represents the Utopians as "al
lowing their priests to marry ;" he exalts the dignity of
the priesthood ;|J he banishes images from their churches j^T
thus showing very plainly his opinion on that subject ; he
informs us that the Utopians offered not divine honours to
any but God alone ;"** he gives it as one of their maxims
that no man ought to be punished for his religion ;tt and he
exalts "a solid virtue far above all rigorous severities, ; ||
which were the most remarkable characteristic of the piety
of the age in which he lived.
We see then generally what were More s views when he
wrote the " Utopia" in 1515 and 15 1G. On all these points
he agreed with Erasmus and Colet. He agreed with them
also in their opposition to the Schoolmen, to the formalism
of the monks and others, and in their determination to
grasp at the spirit of religion, and to make it an actuating,
energizing" [principle. On these points they agreed with
Luther. They seemed indeed to be drawing near to him.
But really, as we shall see hereafter, there was a great dif
ference between them. They also exerted every effort to
promote a political, as well as a religious reformation. Now
* "Utopia," Edit. Bas. 15G3, p. 21. The summary of his re
ligious views here given is extracted from Bumet s "History of the
Reformation," edit. Lend. 1715. Supplement, p. 56.
t " Utopia." Edit. Bas. 1563, p. 56. J Ibid. p. 37.
Ibid. p. 114, |[ Ibid. p. 186. 1 Ibid. p. 192.
** Ibid. p. 173. -j-t Ibid. p. 191. JJ Ibid. p. 130.
INDIGNATION AGAINST HENET VIII.
they were to be separated from one another. Colet was
soon to be gathered to his fathers. Erasmus was only once
more to visit England. If he and More met hereafter, they
can only have done so when the latter went on an em
bassy to the Continent. The endearing sympathies so long
existing between them, and the associations of tender in
terest which had " grown with their growth, and strength
ened with their strength," could now only be cherished and
maintained through the imperfect medium of epistolary cor
respondence. But still we doubt not that they could all at
the present time, under the pain occasioned by separation,
derive comfort from the thought that at present they had
never swerved from their views ; and that they had en
deavoured to promote the onward march of spiritual, moral,
and political improvement.
We have thus seen the feelings with which Erasmus con
templated his separation from his beloved friends, and some
of his reasons for coming to the conclusion that England
could not now be " the home of his old age." At the time
of his departure from England in 1515, he was, as I have
stated, full of indignation on account of the warlike
schemes of Henry VIII. and -his brother monarchs. He
felt that, to use his own words, " that revival of philo
sophical studies, which was designed to lead to an acquaint
ance with the simple and pure Christianity of the Bible,"*
had been interrupted by them. His friend and coadjutor,
Dean Colet, still indeed, notwithstanding the persevering
efforts of his enemies to create in the King s mind a preju
dice against him, continued to lift up his voice against the
vices of the clergy, and to unfold the meaning of the truths
of Holy Scripture in heart-stirring discourses delivered from
the pulpit of St. Paul s Cathedral. But, when the warlike
passions of the monarch were roused, he might become the
* B Aubignu s " History of the Reformation," p. 108.
170 INVITED TO IXGOLDSTADT.
advocate of bigotry, and might silence that fearless cham"
pion of the truth. Henry and Wolsey had indeed at last
offered Erasmus a house and a pension of COO florins to in
duce him to settle in England ; but he at length decided not to
accept the proposal. He seems to have been afraid of them ;
for in a letter to More he says that he feared to come any
more to England, lest he should be obliged to do something
inconsistent with his freedom." Thus it was that he was grad
ually estranged from the land of our fathers ; and that he was
not interred, as he might perhapshave been, in the consecrated
mould of that Abbey, that national Valhalla, where the re
mains of many English worthies, in successive generations,
have mouldered into dust.
At the end of August, 1515, he was able to announce to
Cardinal Wolsey that he was again at Basle, superintending
the printing of " St. Jerome" and of the " New Testament."t
While he was here he received a pressing invitation from
Ernest, Duke of Bavaria, to take up his abode at his Uni
versity of Ingoldstadt, accompanied with the offer of a
handsome salary and rich livings. He at once declined the
proposal. His post of counsellor to the emperor obliged
him now occasionally to be at the Flemish Court. While
he was at Brussels in the autumn of 1516, he was informed
that Charles had conferred on him a bishopric in Sicily,
and that on finding that it was not amongst those reserved
for the Crown, he had written to the Pope, asking him to
give it to him 4 He was glad, however, to hear nothing
more of it. Indeed Sicily would have been nothing more than
a place of exile to him ; as he would have been unable, in
that distant spot, to hold the same intercourse as heretofore
* Angliae motus timeo et servitutem horreo. Eras. ep. Moro,
"Knight s Life, "p. 184.
t Op. torn. iii. p. 302, edit. Bas.
Eras. Amraonio, torn. iii. p. 137, edit. Lugd.
THE NEW TESTAMENT AND ST. JEROME PUBLISHED. 171
with men of learning. He had, some months previously,
on March 7th, 1516, informed Urbanus Regius that the
" New Testament " was published, and the last colophon put
to " St. Jerome."* But these justly celebrated works demand
a separate chapter.
* Op. torn. iii. p. 589, edit. Bas.
172 THE USE OF CLASSICAL STUDIES.
CHAPTER; TIL
HIS "GREEK TESTAMENT." (A.D. 1516).
ERASMUS had been preparing himself during many years
for his work on the New Testament. In .comparison with
that preparation, every occupation, however, in the judg
ment of the world, important, or however exalted, appeared
to him to sink into utter insignificance. The "new learn
ing " was considered by him . as important only so far as it
was subservient to the attainment of an improved know
ledge of Holy Scripture, Christian antiquity, and the lives
of the Fathers. He has shown very plainly the use of
classical studies. The following passage from the Enchi
ridion will explain his views on this subject :* " I would
not for my part condemn any one for amusing himself with
the works of the poets or of the heathen philosophers, pro
vided he just takes them up in moderation, and at the
proper age, and snatches at them, as it were, on his passage,
but does not linger upon them, and grow old close to the
rocks of the sirens. For St. Basil invites to these studies
those young men whom he is preparing to lead the life of
Christians. Our Augustine also invites his friend Licentius
to enjoy the society of the Muses. Jerome is not sorry to
be along with his beloved captive. Cyprian also is com-
* "Enchiridion." Op. torn. v. p. 8, edit. Bas.
HIS DEVOTION TO THE STUDY OF GKEEK. 173
mended because he enriched the temple of the Lord with
the spoils of Egypt. You must take care, however, that
you do not, along with a knowledge of the literature, ac
quire the character of the ancient heathen world. You
will find in it much which prepares you for leading a good
life. A certain writer very properly reminds us that Moses
did not despise the advice of his father-in-law, Jethro.
This learning forms and strengthens the genius of boys,
and prepares them in a wonderful manner for the knowledge
of Holy Scripture. ... It would be better, however, as I
have said, to engage in the study of heathen literature with
moderation, with caution, and at the same time with plea
sure, not too before you have attained a suitable age. You
should occupy towards it the position rather of a wayfaring
man, than of one who lives in a fixed abode. Lastly,
and this is a most important consideration, all this learn
ing should have a direct reference to Christ."
We have seen that he had been endeavouring to gain
that knowledge of the Greek language without which he
could not expect to be able to explain the "New Testament.
He wrote to Colet, eleven years before the time of his life
at which we have now arrived, to the following effect.
After having informed him as I have already stated,* that
he had been struggling to devote himself to the study of
sacred literature, and that he had been prevented by the
want of a better knowledge of Greek from continuing his
work on St. Paul s Epistles, he continues : " For nearly
these three years past, I have given my mind altogether to
Greek literature ; and I do not think that my labour has
been lost."t He had, by this unremitting application, be
come the best grammarian and critic of his time. He had
long seen, as I have said, that the Vulgate was obscure
* See page 53.
t Op. torn. iii. p. 251, edit. Bas.
174 HIS CONTROVERSY WITH LEE ON 1 JOHN V. 7, 8.
and full of inaccuracies ; and therefore it was that he de
termined to publish the Christian Scriptures in their ori
ginal tongue, along with a translation of them into Latin
from the Greek. He was the first to undertake this work.*
He consulted all the manuscripts which he could discover ;
he carefully read the works of the Fathers and the Greek
Commentators, marking down from them the various read
ings j that he might give the Greek text as correctly as
possible. The Latin translation is printed side by side
with it, with Annotations. We may mention as a remark
able proof of his sagacity and diligence, that he was the
first to discover that the words in 1 John v. 7, 8, "In heaven,
the Father, the Word, and the Holy Ghost, and these
three are one. And there are three that bear witness in
earth," are not genuine, and that the passage should stand
thus : " For there are three that bear record, the Spirit,
and the water, and the blood ; and these three agree in
one." Erasmus had, however, pledged himself in his con
troversy with Lee, to insert the words if they existed in
one Greek manuscript. A Codex Britannicus, written pro
bably under Lee s direction, was at length found which
contained them. Then Erasmus, for the sake of peace,
published the words in the third edition. His translations
from Greek are wanting in accuracy, because he lived in an
age in which there were no dictionaries, and no good edi
tions of the Greek authors. We are quite willing, too, to
admit that as we might have expected, the Greek text,
having been brought out when the study of Greek had only
just commenced in Europe, is very imperfect, and will not
stand the test of modern criticism. Still we may venture
to affirm that his notes contain many exact philological re
marks, founded on a knowledge of the Greek language, of
* The Complutensian Polyglott, by Cardinal XimeneSj was not
published till 1522.
175
the style of the Scriptures, and of the doctrine of the
Fathers ; and that though he has been surpassed by many
men inferior to him in ability and industry, who lived at a
time when critical knowledge was very generally cultivated,
yet he must have the merit given to him of having been
the pioneer in that work of criticism which has shed a
bright light on many parts of the records of heavenly
truth.
Erasmus must now explain his own object. The follow
ing is a translation of a portion of the " Paraclesis," or " Ex
hortation to the study of Christian philosophy," which was
prefixed to the Novum Instrumentum. It is perhaps the
most important part of the work.* " First," he says, " I
am sorry to be obliged to make a complaint not altogether
new, but still too just, and never more so than at the pre
sent time, when men are seeking knowledge with so much
eagerness, that this philosophy of Christ is the only one
which is ridiculed by some, and neglected by the ma
jority. But in all the other branches of learning which
human industry has produced, there is nothing so hidden
and abstruse, that the sagacious intellect of man has not
fully examined it ; no difficulty so great that hard labour
has not overcome it. How then is it that this is the only
philosophy which is not studied with equal earnestness, at
least, by those who make a profession of Christianity?
Platonists, Pythagoreans, Academics, Stoics, Cynics, Peri
patetics, Epicureans, have quite mastered the tenets of
their own sects, have them firmly fixed in their memory,
are ready to fight for them, nay, to die rather than desert
the standard of their leader. Why do not we show much
more zeal in the service of Christ, our Leader and King ?
Who would not think it very disgraceful for one who pro
fesses his belief in the philosophy of Aristotle, to be igno-
* Op. tom.v. p. 116 , edit. Bus.
176 HIS " PAEACLESIS."
rant of the opinions of that celebrated man on the cause of
thunder, or on the origin of matter, subjects, a knowledge
or ignorance of which cannot add to our happiness or
miser} 7 ". But we who are in so many ways instructed in the
doctrines of Christ, do not account it a disgrace to be igno
rant of what will certainly lead us to eternal happiness.
But why should I use argument to show their folly, when
it is a very plain proof of madness to wish to compare
Christ with Zeno and Aristotle; His doctrine with their very
unimportant precepts ?* Let them attach as much import
ance as they please to the founders of their sects. Our
Teacher is the only One Who has descended from heaven ;
He alone, as He is Eternal Wisdom itself, can give us cer
tain knowledge ; He alone can instruct us in the things
which pertain to our salvation, because He alone is the
Author of it ; He alone has practised whatever He taught ;
He alone can fulfil His promises. If any thing is brought
to us from the land of the Chaldeans or from Egypt_, we
have some difficulty in understanding it because it comes
from a foreign country ; and often we lose our time in an
anxious, laborious,, and useless endeavour to comprehend
the dreams of an insignificant man, not to say an impostor.
How then is it that the minds of Christians are not in
flamed with a desire for this knowledge, when they know
very well that this learning has come not from Egypt or
Syria, but from heaven itself ? This philosophy is as well-
suited to the highest as the lowest Nay, the farther you
advance in it, the more are you eievated by its majesty.
It excludes no age, no sex, no condition of life. The sun
is not more common to all than the doctrine of Christ. It
does not repel any but those who refuse it themselves. For
* He is liere plainly referring to those mentioned above, who at
this time professed a belief in the ancient heathen philosophy, and
scoffed at the Christian faith.
HIS " PAEACLESIS." 177
I differ altogether from those who arc unwilling that the
Scriptures should be translated into the vulgar tongue, and
should be read by the unlearned, as if Christ had taught
such mysterious doctrine that it could scarcely be under
stood even by a few theologians, or as if ignorance were
the best safeguard of the Christian religion. It is, perhaps,
better to conceal the mysteries of kings ; but Christ
wishes His mysteries to be published as widely as possible.
I wish even the most ignorant woman to read the Gospels,
and the Epistles of St. Paul. I wish that they were trans
lated into all languages, so that they might be read and
understood, not only by the Scotch and Irish, but even by
the Turks and the Saracens. I greatly wish that the hus
bandman should sing some of the verses at his plough-tail,
that the weaver should sing them while throwing his shut
tle, that the traveller should beguile a tedious journey with
the stories contained in them." He thus concludes this
treatise :
<; Let us, then, all thirst for this knowledge ; let us em
brace these books ; let us be constantly engaged in the
study of them; let us give our minds to them; let us,
since all reading should end hr practice, be transformed into
the spirit of what we read If any pretend to
show us the footprints of Christ, how devoutly we fall down
and adore them ! Why do we not rather worship His living
and breathing image in these books ? If any offer to
show us Christ s robe, to what part of the world are we
not ready to run to kiss it ? But if the whole of His ward
robe were exhibited, you would find nothing which repre
sents Christ more clearly and truly than the writings of the
Evangelists. From love to Christ we adorn with jewels and
gold His image of wood and stone. Why do we not rather
decorate with gold and jewels, or even with more valuable
ornaments, those books which bring Christ so much more
12
178 HIS "RATIO VEE^G THEOLOGLE."
vividly before us than any image 1 That, indeed, if it bear
any resemblance at all to Him, only expresses His bodily
likeness ; these exhibit to us the living image of His most
holy mind, and bring back to us Christ Himself, speaking,
healing, dying, rising again. In a word,, they set Christ so
plainly before us, that we could not see Him better if we
were to see Him with our bodily eyes."
The following extracts from his " Eatio Vera? Theologize 5>
show us the spirit and manner in which we ought to study
the Scriptures. Some of these observations on the right
method of theological study were originally added to the first
edition of the " Novum Instrumentum," or " Testamentum,"
as he afterwards called it. When the second was published,
in the beginning of 1519, he enlarged this part of his work.
It was also published separately under the title just given.*
" In speaking of the learning which we must possess in
order that we may well understand the Scriptures, I have
no hesitation in saying that we ;J must master the Latin,
Greek, and Hebrew languages. . . . You must not,
my good reader, be deterred fronf the work by the difficulty
of it. If you are determined to learn, if you have a proper
teacher, you will learn these three languages with less
trouble than men take every day in learning one half-formed
language, which is a wretched babble, and which they cannot
master, partly from the want of proper instructors, partly
from their ignorance. It is impossible for you to understand
the Scriptures if you are ignorant of the language in which
they are written. Some idioms cannot be so translated into
another language, as to convey the same meaning as in the
original. Some small words, again, are untranslatable, as
St. Jerome constantly complains.t . . . If a man
should be gifted with genius, and should be likely to be
* Op. torn. v. p. 63, edit. Bas. t Ibid., p. 65.
HIS "EATIO VEILE THEOLOG-I/E." 179
distinguished as a theologian, I think that he should be
trained, as Augustine says, with moderation, with caution,
and in a manner suitable to his age, in more elegant learn
ing. He should possess a knowledge of dialectics, rhetoric,
arithmetic, music, astronomy. He should be acquainted
with natural objects, with animals, trees, jewels, especially
those connected with the places mentioned in Scripture ; for
if we understand the geography of these countries, we fol
low with our minds the course of the history, and with
great pleasure to ourselves are carried along, so that we
seem to see everything, not to read of it. Thus, our read
ing makes a much deeper impression on our minds. If we
learn from history, not the situation only, but also the
origin, the manners, the customs, the worship, the character
of the people to whom the events spoken of occurred, or to
whom the Apostles wrote their letters, it is astonishing how
much light is shed on what we read, how much vital energy
is given to that which before seemed so sluggish and life
less when the names of everything were unknown to us ;
when making a bold guess, or consulting very bad diction
aries, we mistook a tree for a quadruped, a jewel for a fish,
a harper for a river, a town for a shrub, a star for a
bird."*
He afterwards refers to the importance of explaining
the Scriptures according to their historical sense. He is
here plainly condemning the Schoolmen, who, by drawing
away verses from the context, and extracting from them vari
ous meanings, had caused the Bible to cease to be a record
of real events, or of the lives of individuals. After Giving
o o
an example from Origen of the manner in which the Scrip
tures are to be read, he thus proceeds : " These things are
explained in a copious and elegant manner by Origen, ! do
not know whether with greater pleasure or profit to the
* Op. torn. v. pp. G6, 67.
122
180 HIS "RATIO VEF^E THEOLOGIJD."
reader. He gives only the historical sen^e, and applies the
same method to the books of Scripture which Donatus
applied to the comedies of Terence, when he explained the
meaning of the author." . . .*
He then proceeds to speak of the great superiority of the
Fathers to these new interpreters of Scripture. " If any one
will compare those old theologians, Origen, Basil, Chrysos-
tom, Jerome, with these modern theologians, he will see in
them a river of gold, while in the latter he sees only scanty
rivulets, not very pure, and not corresponding to the foun
tain from which they have flowed. In the one he will hear
the thunder of the oracles of eternal truth ; in the other only
the Commentaries of men which, the more closely they are
examined, appear to bear the greater resemblance to fugitive
dreams. In the one a building rises, resting on the solid
foundation of Holy Scripture; in the other a machine is
erected, at once empty and vast, which stands on the shallow
subtleties and false glosses of mere mortals. In the one you
will range as it were over very beautiful gardens, with
which you will be greatly delighted and satisfied ; in the
other you will wander among barren bushes by which your
flesh will be torn. In the one everything is full of majesty ;
in the other nothing is splendid, but, on the contrary,
everything is mean, .and unworthy of the dignity of
theology."t
But though Erasmus greatly valued the Fathers, he did
not attach an undue importance to human authority. One
of his objects was to undermine the authority of those
" irrefragable " doctors, to whose dogmas men were required
to yield an unqualified assent. Another was to convince
those of their error who, as we have seen, had preferred the
philosophy of Zeno and Aristotle to the philosophy of Christ;
who had dared to call Christianity a cunningly devised
* Op. torn. v. p. 68. t Ibid., p. G9.
HIS "EATIO VEEJ3 THEOLOGIZE." 181
fable, and eternity a dream. He saw very plainly that this
cold scepticism was the reaction from the blind trust which
they were required to repose in men such as Julius II. and
others, who by their manifest disregard of the precepts of
Scripture denied the Lord who bought them and the Sa
viour who redeemed them at the price of His most precious
blood. These men were not consequently in a state of mind
in which they were likely to be reclaimed from the error of
their ways by a reference to the opinions of men. We need
not be surprised, therefore, to find that, with both these
objects in view, he should be rather inclined to lead men
away from human interpretations of the truths of the Bible.
Accordingly, he afterwards represents the Fathers "as men,
mistaken income things, ignorant of others. At times," he
continues, " they were careless, and even surrendered some
points for the sake of vanquishing the heretics with whose
disputes the world was then agitated."* His object, in
fact, seems to have been rather to lead his readers to drink
large draughts from those pure and sparkling fountains of
eternal truth which are unfolded in the Scriptures to our
astonished and delighted vie^y.
We must now show briefly how, according to his own
rule, he made the Scriptures speak for themselves ; how he
made Christianity rest rather upon her own internal evi
dence than upon the authority of the " irrefragable " doctors
of the Church. He shows the wonderful agreement between
the life and the teaching of Christ. " No lie is so skilfully
contrived as to agree in all respects with itself. Now every
part of His doctrine agrees with itself and with His life, and
is agreeable also to nature. He taught innocence ; He Him
self so lived, that not even hired witnesses, after trying in
various ways, could find any charge which could with the
least probability be brought against Him. He taught gen-
* Op. torn. v. p. 112, edit. Bas.
182 HIS "RATIO VEILE THEOLOGIZE."
tleness ; and was Himself led as a lamb to tlie slaughter.
He taught poverty, and we read that He never possessed,
nor pretended that he possessed, anything. He dissuaded
men from ambition and pride, and He washed His disciples
feet. He taught that this was the way to true glory and
immortality; He Himself, by the ignominy of the cross,
obtained a name which is above every name ; and while He
did not seek an earthly kingdom, gained all power in heaven
and earth. You will perhaps find in the books of Plato and
Seneca what is not contrary to the teaching of Christ ; you
will find in the life of Socrates some things which agree with
the life of Christ ; but this wide range, and this universal
harmony of things agreeing between themselves, you will
find in Christ alone."*
He ends his treatise in the following manner: "How
sad it is to see a divine of eighty years old knowing nothing
but mere sophisms ! I w r ould rather be a pious divine with
Chrysostom, than invincible with Scotus. I would ask, has
one heathen been converted to the Christian faith, or has
one heretic been changed by their subtleties 1 If anybody
wishes to be properly instructed rather in the duties of
piety than in the art of disputation, let him at once
go to the fountain j let him be conversant with those
writers who have drunk directly from the fountain-head.
That theologian will be invincible enough who yields
to no vice, no evil desires, even if he should be beaten
in an angry disputation. He is a very great " doctor " who
purely preaches Christ. If they tliink it disgraceful not
to know what Scotus teaches, it is still more so not to know
what Christ teaches. If it is unbecoming in a theologian
not to have mastered the opinions of Lurandus, it is still
Op. torn. v. p. 77, edit. Bas. See for similar instances pages
78, 79, 80, 81, and 82.
" OBJECT OF TEE ffOVUM INSTEUMENTUM." 183
more so not to have made himself acquainted with those of
St. Paul. A theologian has his name from the divine oracles,
not from human opinions."*
We gather from the extracts already given, that the great
object of Erasmus in publishing his edition of the New
Testament, was to bring before the world an accurate
record of the life and teaching of Christ. He has given ex
pression to his views and feelings on this subject in the
following passage in the same "Ratio Verse Theologiss :"
" Since the great object of the teaching of Christ is to bring
us to lead a holy life, we should examine carefully the
Sacred Volume, that we may find in His example a rule for
our guidance in all the circumstances of our lives ; especially
the Gospels, from which a knowledge of our duties is mainly
derived. We must observe, therefore, that Jhrist Himself
acted in a different manner towards different people ; towards
His parents, towards His disciples, towards the proud Phari
sees, towards those who asked Him questions to entangle
Him in His talk, towards the simple people, towards the
afflicted, towards His own countrymen, towards strangers,
towards magistrates. We should understand also what
reasons He gave to His followers for their treatment of their
relations and friends, of the deserving and those who re
ceived or rejected the grace of the Gospel, of persecutors, of
the Jews, of the Gentiles, of the weak, erring, or incorri
gible brother, of impious judges, of the flock committed to
their charge, and of many other classes of persons with whom
they are likely any day to have intercourse. "t He thought
that mistranslations, or errors of any kind, were like clouds
which obscured the brightness of the Sun of Righteousness.
He wished that these should, as far as possible, be removed, in
order that all who opened the Sacred Volume for light, holi-
* Op.- torn. v. p. 116, edit. Bas. t Ibid., p. 18.
184 OBJECT OF THE " tfOVUM INSTEUMENTUM."
ness, blessing, and comfort, might be able to rejoice in His life-
giving and invigorating beams. He showed, by publishing "St.
Jerome" at the same time with his "New Testament," that he
valued human interpreters of the records of heavenly truth.
He complains most justly, in the address to Warham at the
beginning, of the little care which past ages had bestowed in
preserving the works of the ancient Christians. " I despise
not," he says afterwards, "the simple and well-meaning
piety of the vulgar, but I am really surprised at the perverse
judgment of the multitude. We kiss the old shoes and dirty
handkerchiefs of the Saints, and we neglect their books, which
are their more holy and valuable relics. We lock up their
shirts and clothes in cabinets adorned with jewels ; but as to
their writings, with which they took so much pains, we
abandon them to mouldiness and vermin."* But still he
felt, as I have shown, that after all they were imper
fect helps, and that their works must be read with discrimi
nation and judgment. He valued a knowledge of "the
history, the origin, the manners, the customs, the worship,
the character of the people to whom the events spoken of
occurred, or to whom the apostles wrote their letters,"
chiefly because it enabled him to bring Christ, as He is
revealed to us in the New Testament Scriptures, more dis
tinctly and vividly before him. He wished thus to be en
abled to approach. as near as possible to Christ, that he
might catch the reflection of the brightness of His character.
Above all, he wished the world around him to be conformed to
Christ in the inner man to drink deep into His Spirit to
be in truth so one with Christ, as to judge by the same
standard, and to appreciate at the same value, and to cherish
the same feelings towards every object in earth and heaven,
every interest both in time and eternity. Thus he hoped
* Jortin a "Life of Erasmus," vol. i. p. 8-1.
OPPOSITION TO ERASMUS. 185
that when those referred to, who had practically dis
carded Christianity as a rule of life, studied the Saviour s
character, a surpassing loveliness would appear investing
their own ; that they would, like the New Jerusalem, be
encircled within and without with a pure and holy light,
a glory not of earth ; and that they would be surrounded
with an atmosphere breathing all the sanctity and sweet
ness, all the purity and peace, of the heavenly world.
We find that this " New Testament " stirred up more op
position against Erasmus than any work which he had yet
written. The Schoolmen opposed it because they held the
absolute inspiration of every letter >f the Latin Vulgate
and because they absurdly fancied that Erasmus was cor
recting the Holy Ghost when he published an amended
translation of the New Testament from the Grqek original.
These divines, like many who have gone before and suc
ceeded them, exerted every effort to suppress what they
could not confute, judging that if this work were generally
read, their own credit would be greatly endangered. Writ
ing to his friend, Boville, at Cambridge, he mentions a
report which had reached him that " a decree had been
issued at one of the colleges that no one should bring that
book within its bounds on horses, in ships, in waggons, or
by means of porters. ... heaven! Dearth! they
say, Erasmus is correcting the Gospels. Whereas, we
might much more justly say of themselves, the sacrilegious
wretches, they have corrupted the Gospels ! Are they afraid
that the young men should be called away from studies which
they ought to unlearn ? why do they not look into the
matter more carefully ? Nearly thirty years ago nothing
was learnt at Cambridge but the little logical treatise of
Alexander, those antiquated lessons from Aristotle, and the
questions of Scotus. In the progress of time, useful studies
18G HIS DEFENCE AGAINST HIS ENEMIES.
were introduced ; Mathematics, a new, or rather a renewed,
Aristotle, and a knowledge of the Greek language. Many
other authors were added, whose names even I cannot remem
ber. What, I ask, is consequently the condition of your
University ? It has become so nourishing, that it may vie
with the best University of the present age. . . . Are
they displeased because they will hereafter read more care
fully the Gospels and the writings of the Apostles; and would
they rather have the whole of their time spent on these
frivolous subtleties ?" He adds, "These men ought to be
called back to the fountain-head."*
We find that the monks and Schoolmen throughout
Europe very generally opposed the " Xovum Instrumentum."
The divines at Louvain exclaimed very bitterly against it.
The following short extract from a letter to Ammonias, in
which he defends himself against their .charges, may be inter
esting to us now, as learned men are still exposed to the
same calumnies : " There are none," he says, " who bark at
me more furiously than those who never saw even the out
side of my book. Try the experiment on any of them and
you shall find that I speak the truth. When you meet with
one of these brawlers, let him rave on at my New Testa
ment till lie lias made himself hoarse and out of breath.
Then ask him gently whether he has read it. If he has the
impudence to say yes, urge him to produce one passage that
deserves to be blamed. You will find that he cannot. Con
sider now whether this be the behaviour of a Christian, or
suitable to the profession of a monk, to blacken before the
populace a man s reputation, which they cannot restore
to him, even if they try to do so, and to rail at things of which
they confess themselves to be ignorant, never considering
the declaration of St. Paul, that slanderers shall not inherit
the kingdom of heaven. Of all the vile ways of defaming a
* Op. torn. iii. p. 80, edit. Bas.
THE WORK MORE PRAISED THAN CENSURED. 187
man, none is more villanous than to accuse him of heresy ;
and yet to this they have recourse upon the slightest provo
cation."*
But this work was, as he informs us, more praised than
it was censured. The learned of all countries in Europe
united in extolling it. He says to his friend Boville, " I
look to Christ for my chief reward ; but if I cannot obtain
the approbation of all, I will console myself with the reflec
tion that wise men almost everywhere are satisfied with the
book, and I hope that what pleases the best will soon meet
with general appro val."f Colet wrote to him a letter in which
he expressed his unbounded admiration of the work ; and
Archbishop "Wai-ham informed him that " he had shown it to
some of his brother-bishops and to professors of theology,
and that with one accord they declared that the work amply
repaid him for the trouble which he had bestowed upon
it."* The first edition had so rapid a sale that he was
very soon busy in revising it, and preparing a second edi
tion. It was published about two years after the first, and
wa.s dedicated, like it, to Pope Leo, who was now induced
to issue a brief stamping authority upon it. The two
together consisted of 3300 folio copies. He endeavoured
also to correct the numerous errors, some of them typogra
phical, while a few were more serious, which his enemies
alleged as their pretext for assailing him. These errors may
be excused on account of the haste with which the work was
completed. Only five or six months were occupied in the
printing and editing of it. When his work was so well
received by the wise and good throughout Europe, he felfc
* Jortin s "Life of Erasmus," vol. i. p. 140.
t Op. torn. iii. p. 80, edit. Bas. J Ibid., p. 7G.
The third edition appeared in 1522, the fourth in 1527, and the
fifth in 1535, the year before his death. All but the last cost much,
labour.
188 A DEBT OF GEATITUDE DUE TO HIM.
that he could laugh to scorn his monkish and scholastic
calumniators. These men had exerted every effort to
prevent the Bible from being given to the people. They
thought that there was not the least occasion for them
to examine the Scriptures, and that they ought in matters
of religious belief to surrender themselves altogether to the
guidance of those whom they considered as the infallible
teachers of the Church. But Erasmus, in that noble
passage in which he expressed his wish that "the
husbandman should sing the verses while following his
plough, the weaver while throwing his shuttle, and that the
traveller should beguile with them the tedium of his jour
ney," has pronounced a distinct condemnation on the views
of these divines, which he has rendered still more emphatic
by publishing at the. same time the works of Jerome, who
endeavoured to give the Bible to the people in their own
language. The wishes of Erasmus have now been full} 7 "
gratified. Other men have opened the treasures of the
sacred Scriptures to the astonished and delighted view of
multitudes from whom they were locked up in a barbarous,
obscure, and inaccurate version in an unknown tongue. But
while acknowledging the debt of gratitude which we owe to
them, let us never forget to express our obligations to him
who, amid difficulties occasioned by an imperfect knowledge
of the art of deciphering manuscripts, the want of expe
rience on the part of the printers in the use of the Greek
type, the want of money and other causes, which might well
have daunted the most determined courage, prepared the
way for that Reformation of the Church which they conducted
to a successful issue, not only by publishing the works of
Jerome and of the other Latin Fathers, thus unfolding to the
world the doctrines of the ancient Church, but also, and
above all, by being the first to give an improved version of
the Greek original of the New Testament, as well as a
A DEBT OF GRATITUDE DUE TO HIM. 189
better translation into Latin. He thus rescued from the
Church of Eome many passages which in the Vulgate favoured
her dogmas, and afforded a guide to those who very soon
enabled all orders of the community to " read in their own
tongues the wonderful works of God."
190 HIS CAEEER HITHEETO USEFUL AND SUCCESSFUL.
CHAPTEE VIII.
THE VIEWS AND CONDUCT OF ERASMUS IN REGARD TO THE
REFORMATION, AND THE MANNER IN WHICH HE AIDED ITS
PROGRESS. (A.D. 1517 1519.)
THE career of Erasmus had hitherto been useful and suc
cessful. He had, notwithstanding his poverty, his repudia
tion by his family, his want of books and masters to instruct
him, and an incurable, malady, become, by his transcendent,
abilities and indefatigable industry, the greatest scholar,
and in some respects the greatest divine, on this side of the
Alps. He was equal to, or surpassed, the most distinguished
men in Italy. In wit and satire he was absolutely un
rivalled. Princes were constantly corresponding with him,
and competing for the honour of his residence in their do
minions. The Pope and many distinguished prelates united
to do him honour. The four or five years ending with 1517,
when he was in his fifty-first year, were probably the hap
piest and most useful of his life. If he had died now, he
would have been spared much misery, and he would have
occupied a higher place than he does at the present time in
the good opinion of his fellow-creatures. He never was,
nor ever could have been, as we shall see hereafter, a
Lutheran reformer, but he would have been celebrated as
having done much to enable others to effect a Reformation.
YIEWS AS TO THE CONTEST ABOUT INDULGENCES. 191
because he condemned in his writings many of the dogmas
of Romanism, because he, more than any one else, promoted
the revival of classical learning, because he waged war with
the scholastic philosophy and the superstitions of the Church
of Rome, which he ridiculed in his works, and because he
constantly appealed to Holy Scripture in all his exhortations
and instructions.
But I have now to present a melancholy reverse to this
picture. We shall see it as we read the history of that
great religious revolution which shook to its foundation the
usurped dominion of the Roman Pontiff. I need not de
scribe minutely the contest about indulgences. Leo X.
wished to replenish his exhausted coffers. Accordingly he
determined on the sale of them. He persuaded the princes
of Europe to allow the papal collectors to enter his domin
ions by promising them a share of the spoil. He assigned
as his pretexts for this collection a war against the Turks,
and the necessity of raising money for the erection of St.
Peter s at Rome. Many saw through the hollowness of the
first pretext. Erasmus thus expresses himself in a new edition
of his " Adages": " I do not like to suspect what has too often
been found to be true, that this rumour of a war against the
Turks is put forward as a pretext for the spoliation of the
people of Christendom."* And again, writing to Paulus
Yolzius, an Abbot, he says, " We are making preparations
for a war against the Turks. With what view soever this
be undertaken, we ought to pray to God that it may be
profitable, not to a few, but to all of us in common."t We
all know the issue of this matter. Luther, full of indigna
tion when he found certain people who came to him for
confession deluding themselves with the idea that, after
having purchased an indulgence, they might plunge without
scruple and without remorse into the practice of every vice,
* "Adages," c. 968. t Op. torn. iii. p. 885, edit. Bas.
192 LETTEB TO THE AECHBISHOP OF MAINTZ.
and the perpetration of every crime, and when he wit
nessed the shameless traffic in indulgences carried on by
Tetzel and his brother-monks, posted up on the church
door at TVittemberg, on the 31st October, 1517, ninety-five
propositions against the doctrine of indulgences. This was
the commencement of that memorable revolution which
shook to its foundation the fabric of Papal domination.
We learn the views of Erasmus on this movement from a
remarkable letter written soon after this time to Albert, a
younger brother of the Elector Joachim of Brandenburg,
who at the age of four-and-twenty had been created Arch
bishop and Elector of Maiiitz and Magdeburg, and after
wards a Cardinal.* He was sumptuous, worldly, and dis
sipated ; but he had a clear perception of many of the
abuses of Romanism, was in his heart not strongly opposed
to Luther, and for a long time prevented the monks from
attacking him. " The world" (he says) "is burdened with
human ordinances, with scholastic opinions and dogmas,
and with the tyranny of Mendicant brothers, who, although
they are the satellites of the Roman See, yet have become
so numerous and have attained so much power, that they
are formidable to kings, and to the Pope himself. When
the Pope takes their part, he is more than a God to them ;
but when he acts contrary to their interest, he is no more
to them than a phantom. I do not condemn all, but most
of them are such as for gain and power do their best to en
snare the consciences of men. And with brazen front they
began, not to preach Christ, but their own novelties, and
afterwards more insolent dogmas. They so spoke of indul
gences that even fools must despise them. By these and
similar means the strength of the gospel, by little and
little, decayed ; and everything was gradually changing for
the worse, so that at length that spark of Christian piety
:: " Op. torn. iii. p. 402, edit. Eas.
LETTER TO THE ARCHBISHOP OF MAINTZ. 193
would have been extinguished, from which the flame of
Christian love could be rekindled. The substance of re
ligion was inclining towards ceremonies more than Judaical.
These evils are lamented by all good men, and by all divines
who are not monks ; and the existence of them is admitted
by some of the monks themselves in private conversation.
These are the things which moved the spirit of Luther, and
gave him the courage to oppose the intolerable impudence
of certain men. I can come to no other conclusion when I
know that he seeks neither honour nor gain."
He said in the same letter, " I am neither the accuser of
Luther, nor his advocate, nor his judge. I should not ven
ture to form an opinion as to his spirit. That is too diffi
cult a matter for me. But yet why should I be blamed if
I favour him as a good man, as his enemies admit him
to be ; or if I defend him as a man accused, a liberty which
the laws allow even to sworn judges ; or if, as humanity
requires, I defend him from the oppression of those
who, under a false pretext of zeal, are zealously attacking
polite learning ? Why should I not take compassion on
him when I do not mix myself up with his cause ? In a
word, I think that it is the duty of a Christian so to favour
Luther, that, if he be innocent, I would not have him trod
den down by a wicked faction, and if he be in error, I
would rather have him reclaimed than destroyed. This
course is much more agreeable to the example of Christ,
who, to use the words of the prophet, would not break
the bruised reed, nor quench the smoking flax. "
"We see then that soon after Luther began his career,
Erasmus expressed his approbation of his work. In the
year 1517 he published a sixth edition of his "Adages,"
to the proverbs in which, as in previous editions, he
added matter expressive of his indignation on account
of the disgraceful conduct of the Pope, the ecclesiastics of
13
194 LETTER TO PAUL VOLZIUS.
the Church of Rome, and of the monarchs of Europe. On
his arrival at Basle from Lou vain, in May, 1518, he pub
lished a new edition of his " Enchiridion, ; to which he
added a preface in the shape of a letter to Paul Volzius, an
Abbot, containing strong observations on the follies and
vices of the times.* This letter, which was read all over
Europe, increased the indignation of the monks against him.
He alluded to the war against the Turks, and observed
that attempts would be made to bring them over to Chris
tianity. He availed himself of this opportunity of again
attacking the Schoolmen. " Shall we then put into their
hands an Occam, a Durandus, a Scotus, a Gabriel, or an
Alvarus? "What will they think of us, what will they
think, when they hear of our perplexed subtleties concern
ing Instants, Formalities, Quiddities, and Relations ? . . . .
What, when they behold the Jacobins fighting for their
Thomas, and the Minorites for their most refined and
seraphic doctors, and the Nominalists and Realists, each de
fending their own jargon, and attacking that of their ad
versaries. What must they think when they find it so
very difficult to know what expressions may be used when
we speak of Jesus Christ ; as if you had to do with a
morose and angry demon, whom you call forth to your own
destruction if you make a mistake in the form of evocation,
and not rather with a most merciful Saviour, who requires
nothing from us but purity and simplicity of life ? . . . Tell
me, I beseech you, what effect this will produce when they
observe that our lives contradict our creed, and observe our
tyranny, our ambition, our avarice, our rapacity, our lust,
our debauchery, our cruelty, and our oppressions? The
best way of gaining them would be to show that we are the
servants and imitators of Jesus Christ j that we covet nei
ther their lands, nor their money, nor their wives, nor their
daughters, but that we desire only their salvation, and the
* Op. torn. iii. p. 885, edit. Bas.
SESIDE1\CE AT LOUVAIX. 195
glory of Christ. This is the true, pure, and powerful theo
logy which formerly subjected to Jesus Christ the pride of
philosophers, and the sceptres of kings."
He then proceeded to attack all the religious orders, bufc
especially the monks. " Those who are called monks are
now found in the midst of worldly business, exercising a
kind of tyranny over the affairs of men. They alone are
holy. . . . Why should we thus narrow the Christian pro
fession, when Christ wished it to be as broad as possible 1
In every path of life, let all strive to attain to the mind
of Christ. Let us assist one another, neither envying those
who surpass us, nor despising those who may lag behind.
And if any one should excel another, let him beware lest
he be like the Pharisee in the Gospel, who recounted his
good deeds to God ; rather let him follow the teaching of
Christ, and say, I am an unprofitable servant. No one
more truly has faith than he who distrusts himself. No
one is really farther from true religion than he who thinks
himself most religious."
In compliance with the urgent request of the authorities
of the University of Louvain, Erasmus had now made that
city his head-quarters for nearly two years, having gone to
it in the winter of 1516-17. This University was as
celebrated as that of Paris, and contained 3000 students.
Soon after his arrival he composed the " Complaint of
Peace." She harangues the public, enumerates the blessings
she richer fails to confer on mankind as long as she is
honoured and respected by them, but complains that all
classes of men had ceased to regard her. This treatise
became very popular in Europe. On his arrival at Louvain
from Basle, in the autumn of 1518, Erasmus had been
attacked by a serious illness. A report of his death was
brought to Cologne by a preaching brother, to a party of
monks at a convivial meeting. They immediately cx-
13-^-2
196 EAED WOEK.
pressed their joy when the preacher told them in monkish
Latin that he had died sine lux, sine crux, sine Deus.
This severe illness was, in a measure, owing to hard
study, and to the necessity of constant journeys from place
to place. If he would write much on any subject, especially
if he would bring out editions of classical authors, he must
travel to every place in Europe where he could obtain access
to books and manuscripts. He must not only undergo the
fatigue of travel, but also suffer from the privations and the
treatment of which he has given so graphic a description in
his account of the German inns. After the labour of
bringing out his edition of the New Testament, which, he
said, destroyed his health, he had indeed declared that he
was sick of a troublesome world, and had expressed his
determination of giving up his studies, or at least of no
more appearing as an author. But we find that he never
carried that determination into effect. In fact, after that
time, the number of his works rather increased than
diminished. As we have seen in the case of the " Praise of
Folly," he would never allow his mind to rest from work
even during his travels. New editions of his works were,
as we shall see presently, constantly issuing from the press
of Froben at Basle, and of Martins at Louvain, two of the
very few intelligent men who could be trusted to print and
correct works in the ancient languages. The immediate
cause of this illness was hard work in Froben s office for
several months on his " Paraphrase ;" or, exposition of the
meaning of seven of the Epistles. He had published that
on the "Epistle to the Romans" at Louvain in 1517. In
compliance with Colet s wish he was also preparing at this
time " Paraphrases on the Gospels." This work was pro
jected by him as long ago as 1516, immediately after he had
finished his " New Testament," to which he designed it to be
a companion. It seemed as if the report of his death brought
PARAPHRASES ON THE GOSPELS AND EPISTLES. 197
~to the monks were only premature, and that Erasmus would
have been carried off at this time before he had completed
it. But they had no occasion for their rapturous applause.
He recovered, and published the work on the Epistles just
referred to in the spring of 1519, and a Paraphrase on the
remainder of the Epistles, and on the Gospels subsequently.
As the "Paraphrases on the Gospels and Epistles" is a very
important work, I shall now make a few observations
upon it.
It was highly valued in the ago in which he lived. It
seems to have escaped censure. The best critics of
former days have expressed a high opinion of its merits.
" Never did Papist, Lutheran, or Calvinist/ said Scaliger,
"compose a better or more elegant work than the Para
phrase of Erasmus. " Of course, great advances have
been made in the critical knowledge of Holy Scripture since
the time of its publication. But still we may say that we
owe a debt of gratitude to him, inasmuch as he removed
the rubbish which had been for ages accumulating over the
sacred volume, and called attention to the simple and
historical interpretation of the Bible. The " Paraphrases
should never be separated from the " Annotations on the
New Testament. " In the latter his business was to explain
words, and he does not always show fully the connection
of the passage with the context, nor bring forward the argu
ments which have led the sacred writer to his conclusions. He
has supplied these deficiencies to the fullest extent in his
" Paraphrases." He has not expressed the meaning of the
Sacred Writers in the words which they would have used if
they had written in the Latin language, but he has
endeavoured to discuss their doctrine, and has introduced
as many words and ideas into his "Paraphrase" as he deemed
to be necessary to fix it in the minds of his readers. His
great object was to explain the New Testament by itself.
198 PABAPEEASES ON" THE GOSPELS AND EPISTLES,
As lie was well acquainted with tlie writings of the Father?,,
he has given with great perspicuity the sense of Christian
antiquity as to the meaning of particular passages. This
work was, at the time of the Eeformation in England, so
highly esteemed by Cranmer, that he caused it to be
translated into English, to be authorized by the king, and
to be placed, along with the Bible, in our churches for
public use. Every parish was enjoined to buy a copy. A
charge of 20,000 was thus laid on the realm. Mutilated
and moth-eaten copies may still occasionally be seen chained
to their desks. I have given Bishop Stillingfleet s observa
tions on it in my introductory chapter. Strype informs us
that the "Paraphrase on the Four Gospels " was translated
and published in English at the charge and direction of the
amiable and learned Queen Catherine Parr, who employed
Nicholas Udal, master of Eton School, and others in that
work, and is supposed to have done part of it herself.* It
was published in 1547. The whole work was finished in
1549 and 1552. Gardiner, Bishop of Winchester, was
opposed to the public use of it ; but Cranmer asserted that,
though not free from errors, it was the best work of the
kind ; that it was written by u the most indifferent writer ;"t
by which words he meant by one who was quite impartial,
who was strongly opposed to scholastic theology, and was
well acquainted with the works of the Fathers. This is one
of those publications by which he showed that, in building
up the faith of this country, he was influenced more by a
spirit of comprehension than of exclusion. " Having been
executed by a member of the Church of Rome, from whose
eyes, however," as Professor Blunt observes in his " History
of the Eeformation, "J " the scales were fast falling, it was
* Strype s Memor., vol. ii. p. 28.
t Burnet s Hist, of Reform., ii. 37, fol. J Page 203.
PROFESSOR BLUNT ON THE "PARAPHRASES." 199
calculated, he might think (and an expression which drops
from him confirms this), for a Church in a state of transition
like our own. Had Gardiner compared it," he continues,
" with similar writings of some other of the Reformers, he
would have found that, in making such a choice, Cranmer,
so far from intending to irritate, could only be led by a
desire to conciliate the Roman Catholics as much as might
be without a compromise. Had he compared, for instance-,
Erasmus s Paraphrase of the Galatians with the Com
mentary of Luther on the same Epistle ; had he contrasted
the caution of the one interpreter with the intrepidity, not
to say hardihood, of the other, the different degrees of
animation with which the great evangelical doctrines, and
those the most obnoxious to the Roman Catholics, are
respectively handled by them the different degrees of
keenness they discover in the detection of those doctrines
under the same texts ; the more or less reserved sense in
which the works of the law are understood as affecting
justification ; not to speak of the direct fulminations against
the Church of Rome, which Luther takes every occasion to
launch, and Erasmus to withhold ; if he had thus done,
probably Luther s most powerful treatise would not, indeed,
have made him a convert to his opinions j Cranmer him
self most likely would have disavowed, or at least tempered,
several of them ; but it would have, at any rate, satisfied
him that the Archbishop had far more offensive weapons in
his armoury than those which he thought proper on this
occasion to produce."
Luther, since the publication of the theses on indulgences,
had been preserved from the indignation of the Pope. He
would only have rushed on certain destruction, if God had
not disposed the heart of Frederic, the Elector of Saxony, to
befriend him. Having been summoned to appear before
the Pope s legate at Augsburg, he had vanquished him in
200 LUTHEE/S LETTER TO EEASMUS.
argument. The result was that Rome was about to hurl
her spiritual thunderbolts at the intrepid champion of the
Reformation. Frederic, intimidated by her menaces, gave
Luther an intimation that he must prepare to withdraw from
his dominions. The spiritual fate of Germany, indeed of Europe
itself, seemed to be at this time trembling in the balance.
But the Reformer was not obliged to bend before the storm.
The thunderbolt was poised ; but it was not hurled. The
Prince of the kings of the earth smote down with his
sceptre the hand which had just drawn it from the Papal
arsenal. The Pope, who had just been breathing forth
threatenings against him, seems suddenly to have changed
them for the winning accents of conciliation. It may be
that he fancied that he would never have opposed him, if lie
had not received an assurance that Frederic would make
common cause with him, and would declare as his enemies
those who endeavoured to compass his destruction. The
result was that Luther was not banished from the land of
his fathers, and that he was enabled to carry forward
towards completion the enterprise in which he was engaged.
It was during the pause which followed these proceedings
that Erasmus and Luther wrote to each other. In March,
1519, Luther sent a very courteous letter to Erasmus. He
fancied that the latter must be altogether on his side,
because he had declared himself against the superstitious
religion of the monks, and because these men equally
detested both of them. He spoke of Erasmus as reigning in
the hearts of all who loved literature. It seemed to him
that he could discover the taste and temper of Erasmus
from his new Preface to his " Enchiridion." 1
To this letter Erasmus sent a reply in the following May.
He had already, as we have seen, expressed his approbation
of the Lutheran movement. At the beginning he called Luther
* Op. torn. iii. p. 243, edit. Bas.
THE EEPLY OF EKASMUS. 201
his dearest brother in Christ, and informed him that he had
not read his works, and therefore could neither approve nor
disapprove of them ; but that it would be much better for
his adversaries to publish grave and solemn arguments
against them, than to find fault with them before the multi
tude, especially as the moral character of the author was
irreproachable. He had, however, looked into part of his
"Commentaries on the Psalms," was much pleased with
them, and hoped that they might prove very useful. Many
persons in England and at Louvain, he added, commended his
writings. We find afterwards an exhortation to moderation,
and a recommendation to attack not the persons of Popes
and Kings, but abuses of their authority, and those evil
counsellors who had imposed upon them.*
A little time afterwards Erasmus wrote to Cardinal
"Wolsey. He complained in this letter very heavily of some
persons who tried to prevent him from carrying into effect
his design of applying human learning to sacred purposes,
and of translating and illustrating the Scriptures. "As to
Luther," he continued, " he is altogether unknown to me,
and I have read nothing of his except two or three pages
not because I dislike him, but because my own studies and
occupations do not give me leisure to do so. 13ut yet, as I
hear, some persons say that I have assisted him. If he has
written well, the praise must not be given to me, and if he
has written ill, I ought not to be blamed, since, in all his
writings, there is not a line which came from me. His life
is universally commended ; and it is an argument in his
favour, that his character is unblamable. I was once against
Luther, because I was afraid that he would bring an odium
upon literature, which is already too much suspected of
evil ; for I know full well how invidious it is to oppose
* Op. torn. iii. p. 244.
202 LETTER TO SLECHTA.
those opinions which bring so plentiful a harvest of gain to-
the priests and monks."*
Erasmus wrote a remarkable letter at this time, which
may serve to show his views on the great question of the
Reformation of the Church. Joannes Slechta, a Bohemian,
had written a long letter to Erasmus, in which he gave him
an account of three religious parties in Bohemia. First, he
spoke of the Papal party, among whom were most of the ma
gistrates and nobility : the second, he said, administered the
Sacrament in both kinds to the laity, and performed divine
service in the vulgar tongue ; the third was the sect of the
Pyghards, who abhorred the priests and monks, regarded the
Pope and clergy as Antichrist, thought little of the au
thority of Fathers and Schoolmen, saw only simple bread and
wine, no divinity, in the Sacrament of the Lord s Supper;
rejected auricular confession, penance, extreme unction, and
other doctrines of Eomanism.t
Erasmus replied by condemning the Pyghards on some
points, and commending them on others. He blamed
Slechta also for his harsh feelings towards them. He
thus continued : " Many might be reconciled to the Church
of Rome, if we did not define everything exactly, and were
contented with those doctrines which are laid down in the
Holy Scriptures, and are necessary to salvation. These are
few in number ; and it is easier to persuade men to accept
few than many. Now, out of one article we make a
hundred, some of which are such that men might be ignorant
of them or doubt them without any injury to religion.
But such is the nature of men, that they will obstinately
maintain what has once been defined. The sum of the
philosophy of Christ lies in this that we should know that all
our trust is to be placed in God, who freely gives us all things
* Op. torn. iii. p. 371, edit. Bas.
t Ibid., p. 462.
LATITUDINARIAN" VIEWS OF ERASMUS. 203=
"by His Son Jesus Christ; that we are redeemed by the
death of the Son of God, that being dead to the desires of
the world, we may live conformably .to His precepts and
example, not only doing evil to no one, but doing good to all ;
that, when adversity befalls us, we should patiently submit
to it, in hopes of the reward which is reserved for all good
men at the coming of Christ ; that we should make a daily
progress in virtue, ascribing nothing to ourselves, but every-
thino- to God. Such are the convictions with which man
<D
ought to be penetrated, until this has become in him a
second nature. If any wish to inquire into abstruse points,
concerning the divine nature, the person of Jesus Christ, or
the Sacraments, in order that they may improve their under
standings, and raise their minds and affections above earthly
things, let them be permitted to do so, provided their
Christian brethren be not compelled to believe everything
which different teachers think to be true. As instruments
expressed in a multitude of words lead to law suits, so, in
religion, many determinations, decrees, and decisions, lead to A
endless controversies."*
From this letter it appears that Erasmus was very lati-
tudinarian in his views. He would have a very compre
hensive Church. He would admit to it the Pyghards, as-
well as their opponents. Herein he differed altogether
from Luther. The latter has called the doctrine of justifi
cation by faith, the article of a standing or a falling
Church. Luther, when he began to read the "Novuni
Instrumentum," found that on matters connected with this*
doctrine, the system of Erasmus and his own were directly
opposed to each other. Erasmus, however, did not perceive
at first the fundamental difference between himself and
Luther, or he would not have written the letters commend
ing his work, extracts from which have been recently given..
* Op. torn. iii. p. 465, edit. Bas.
204 LUTHER S OPINIONS.
Luther had a very decided opinion on the doctrine of
original sin. He held that we must feel deeply our disease
before we can apply for a remedy. Conviction of sin is one
of the most striking features in his system. He thus wrote
in his first Commentary on the Epistle to the Galatians :
"Be it that I have not committed, in ad, homicide, adultery,
theft, and other sins of such a kind, against the second
table of God s commands ; yet I have committed them in
heart. Wherefore I am a transgressor of all the command
ments of God, and so great is the multitude of my sins,
that an ox-hide could not encompass them. Nay, they are
not to be numbered; I have sinned more times than the
sea has sands." And again he wrote : "Do not imagine your
sins small, such as your own works can do away. Do not
despair at their number, when you truly feel them in life, or
in the hour of death ; but believe that Christ, for no feigned
and pretended, but for real sins ; for sins not small, but the
very greatest ; not for one or two sins, but for all sins ; not
for subdued sins (for no man, no angel, can subdue the very
least sin), but for sins unsubdued, was delivered to death."
We may easily imagine that, holding these views on the
" exceeding sinfulness of sin," he would be deeply grieved
when, as, in the course of his reading, he comes to the
"Annotations " on chapter v. of the Epistle to the Eomans,
where the Apostle speaks of death "having reigned from
Adam to Moses, even over them that had not sinned after
the similitude of Adam s transgression," he finds Erasmus
remarking that he does not think it needful here to resort
to the doctrine of "original sin," however true in itself, and
hinting at the possibility of " hating Pelagius more than
enough," and of making use of the doctrine of " original sin"
too freely as a means of extricating ourselves from theo
logical difficulties, as astrologers had invented a system of
epicycles to get them out of their astronomical dilemmas.
DIFFERENCE BETWEEN 1 LUTHER AND ERASMUS. 205""
The further he reads, the less he likes Erasmus system.
He thus expresses himself concerning him in a letter to his
friend Spalatin : " What pains me in Erasmus, that most
learned man, my dear Spalatin, is, that by the righteousness of
works or of the law, of which the Apostle speaks, he under
stands the fulfilling of the ceremonial law. Now, the righteous
ness of the law consists not only in ceremonies, but in all the
works of the Decalogue. When these works are done with
out faith in Christ, they may, it is true, make men such as
Fabricius, Regulus, and others, of perfect integrity in the
eyes of men - } but in that case they deserve as little to be
called righteousness, as the fruit of a medlar to be called a fig.
For we do not become righteous, as Aristotle pretends, by
doing works of righteousness ; but having become righteous,
we do such works. The man must first be changed, and
O /
then the works. Abel was first righteous before God, and
then his sacrifice." Luther continues : " I beg of you herein
to do the part of a friend and a Christian, by pointing out
these things to Erasmus." This letter shows very plainly
his anxiety that he should receive into his heart these great
truths, in order that he might employ his wonderful genius,
and exert his amazing influence in the propagation of them
throughout the Continent of Europe.
Luther continued his study of the Novum "Instrumentum,"
and we find him writing again from Wittemberg, that every
day, as he reads, he loses his liking for Erasmus. " I love
to see him," he says, "reprove, with so much learning and
firmness, the priests and monks for their ignorance ; but I
fear that he does small service to the doctrine of Jesus-
Christ. He has more at heart what depends on man than
what depends on God. A man is not a good Christian
because he understands Greek and Hebrew. The judgment
* D Aubigne s "Hist, of the Reformation," vol. i. p. 193, Scott s
translation.
206 LUTHEB/S VIEWS ON JUSTIFICATION BY FAITH.
of a man who attributes anything to the human will is one
thing ; the judgment of him who recognizes nothing but grace
is another thing. Nevertheless, I carefully keep this opinion
to myself, lest I should strengthen the cause of his opponents.
I trust that the Lord will give him understanding in His
own good time."*
Luther undoubtedly felt strongly on these subjects. He
had, some years before, determined to bury himself arnid
the gloom of cloistered seclusion, that he might, by penances
and mortifications, obtain that holiness which was the object
of his desire. But his corruptions seemed to him to gather
fresh strength with every effort which he exerted to subdue
them. He was invited to satisfy the divine justice by his
good works. But he found, as he tells us, that they were so
defective and so polluted, that he could not, in this way,
obtain the blessings of pardon and justification. He never
knew when the tale of bricks was complete. He never
could be satisfied that he had done enough to secure the
approbation of his Maker. Then Staupitz, the vicar-
general of the Augustinians, directed him, as we read in his
history, to the only true source of peace and consolation.
He told him that, when he was clad in the robe of Christ s
most perfect righteousness, he would endure, unabashed, the
searching gaze of a God of infinite purity. And then he
exclaimed : " When I knew this doctrine, the doctrine of
the imputation of Christ s righteousness, the gates of
Paradise, before closed, burst open to my view."
Thus Luther was led to consider the question between
himself and Erasmus as one of the greatest importance.
The law spoken of in the Scripture was the ceremonial law
only, or the moral law also. But Luther has shown that
both are referred to. If we maintain, with Erasmus, that
-ceremonial acts are the only ones by which we cannot be
* Luther, Epp. i. p. 52.
DIFFERENT MODES OF EEFORMING THE CHURCH. 207
justified, we are entangled again in that yoke of bondage
from, which, as we have just seen, Luther, having been
emancipated himself, laboured to emancipate the nations of
Europe. In fact, an error on this point constitutes the
foundation of the Roman Catholic system. A man holding
the views of Erasmus may remain contentedly a member of
that Church, which afterwards decreed at Trent : " If any
man shall say that men are justified by the imputation of
Christ s righteousness, or that the grace by which we are
justified is the favour of God alone in other words, that ib
is not something in ourselves, and meriting justification
let him be anathema or accursed." But a man holding the
views of Luther cannot remain a member of a Church which
denies this doctrine. His language will be the same which
Luther addressed to a friend : " Learn to despair of thyself,
and to say to Christ, Thou, Lord Jesus, thou art my
righteousness, and I, I am. thy sin. Thou hast taken what
was mine, and thou hast given me what is Thine. Thou,
my dear brother, shalt find peace only in him, by despairing
of thyself and thy works, and by learning with what love
He opens His arms to receive thee, taking thy sins upon
Him, and giving thee all His righteousness/
These two great men were not only on points of doctrine, but
also in regard to the mode of reforming the Church, to some
extent, antagonistic to each other. Luther was always ready
to bare his bosom to the strife, and to rush into the heat
and sorest part of the battle. He never hesitated nor faltered
in his onward career. Erasmus, on the contrary, could nob
oppose all the dogmas of Romanism. He did not recognize
that in this war there could be no neutrality. He joined
Luther in condemning the luxury of the successors of the
Apostles ; he opposed auricular confession, the trust in the
Virgin, the invocation of the Saints, the worship of relics,
and other doctrines of the Church of Rome j but he could
208 WISH OP ERASMUS FOR A PEACEFUL REFORM.
not accept, as we have just seen, the distinguishing doctrine
of the Reformation, asserting that faith in Christ meant " to
aim at virtue only ;" to imitate those graces which shone
forth in His all perfect character, and proclaimed the in
dwelling of the Godhead. Hence it was that he often com
mended Luther, and exhorted his opponents to refute him
by fair argument ; and that he often urged the Reformer
himself to be moderate, and recommended him to adopt a
less uncompromising tone in his opposition to the dominant
Church. He laboured by every means to promote the peace
of Christendom. Thus, in the letter to Cardinal Campegius,
prefixed to his "Paraphrase on the Epistle to the Ephesians,"
he recommended Pope Leo to order the parties to deliver
their confession of faith without attacking, insulting, or
reviling that of others.* If they could not agree, they
were to dispute with candour and mildness. If they dif
fered on important points, they should select able and dis
interested men who were to discuss them with great
moderation. Erasmus, however, forgot that there were
very few who were not avowed partizans on one side or the
other; that fewer still had the learning which qualified
them to discuss the matters which would be brought before
them ; and that the probability was that even if they could
come to a decision, it would not be accepted by the large
proportion of the inhabitants of Europe.
The truth was, that the schemes of Erasmus were not at
all calculated to accomplish the object designed by them.
He hoped that the human race, refined by polite learning,
and enlightened by the diffusion of Scriptural knowledge,
would shake off the superstitions of the middle ages, would
adopt a religion drawn directly from the records of heavenly
truth, and would pursue their onward career of moral and
* Op. torn vii. p. 697, edit. Bas.
A PEACEFUL REFORMATION IMPOSSIBLE. 201)
spiritual improvement. Herein Luther would, to a certain
extent, agree with him. These two eminent men exerted
a vigorous, a sustained, a persevering effort to disperse
the darkness then brooding over the nations. But Luther
was not so deficient in common sense as to suppose, like
Erasmus, that mild exhortations would induce the rulers of
the Church to reform abuses from which they derived bene
fit ; that they would willingly resign the pomp and luxury
with which they were surrounded, the gay cavalcade, the
table piled with costly viands, the jewelled mitre, and the
gorgeous robe ; that anything short of a terrible convulsion
would tear up the towers, or dismantle the bulwarks of that
structure of ecclesiastical power which had been continually
growing up, and had been consolidated by the addition of
fresh materials and strong buttresses through successive
generations. Mild measures had been employed for ages;
and all of them had failed of the wished-for success. The
Mendicants had attempted to reform the Church ; but, by
their covetousness, their arrogance, and their disputes,
they had increased the evil which they were established to
remedy. The poets had attempted in vain to arrest the
progress of that moral leprosy which was infecting all orders
of human society. Council after council had laboured un
successfully for the accomplishment of the same object.
The moral pollution of Christendom had, notwithstanding
those efforts, become continually greater, until at length
men stood aghast at the revolting features which it exhi
bited. Erasmus, however, was not convinced that a reform
ation could not be effected in the manner above referred
to. lie persevered in his exhortations and remonstrances.
When, however, he found that all this well-meant advice
proved of no avail, then he thought that it would be better
to wait to some future time when the reformation might be
effected without those civil and religious convulsions which
14
210 A PEACEFUL REFORMATION IMPOSSIBLE.
might, as he feared, shatter the framework of the Church
into fragments, and might even be the means of dissolving
society into its original elements. But that clay could never
be expected to arrive. A desperate disease required a strong
remedy. A change so great as the one now before us could
not be accomplished without terrible commotions. If we
wait till we can prevent evil from mingling with the good,
we shall have to abandon many of those high and holy
enterprises which have for their object the amelioration of
human society. The elements of strife in the bosom of
Christendom were labouring for a vent, and must have
found it ere long. As well might the men of those days
have saved Europe from that outburst, as they could have
prevented that stream of molten lava from issuing from the
summit of the mountain, which changes the garden of roses
at its foot into a bleak and desolate waste, possessing
scarcely one spot of verdure. If the Reformation had
been postponed according to the wishes of Erasmus, the
consequence would have been that the common herd of
the people, unrestrained by that piety which it promoted
even among the poorest and the vilest, would have rushed
forth with uncontrollable fury, and would have spread
ruin and desolation around them. We owe a debt of
gratitude to those who laboured to prevent that fearful
catastrophe ; who, instead of shrinking appalled from the
dangers and difficulties which they were sure to encounter,
endeavoured to contend with and destroy those evils
which followed in the train of the Eeformation, when she
went forth on her errand of mercy to the nations of the
earth.
We have seen some of the points of difference between
Erasmus and Luther. He differed from him also in another
respect. He had not his moral courage. Though a thou
sand hostile forms thronged the path he was pursuing,
ERASMUS DEFICIENT IN COURAGE. 211
Luther was still prepared to march forward. Erasmus,
however, trembled and drew back when he surveyed the
whole length and breadth of the danger to which he would
have been exposed if he had made common cause with him.
He had a religious horror of war. He would rather, we are
much grieved to say, surrender some portion of the truth
than disturb the peace of Christendom. In a letter to his
friend Pace, Dean of St. Paul s, when speaking of Luther,
he says, " If he had written everything in the most unex
ceptionable manner, I had no inclination to die for the sake
of truth. Every man has not the courage requisite to make
a martyr ; and, I am afraid, that it I were put to the trial
I should imitate St. Peter."* We must not indeed suppose
that Erasmus acted against his conscience in this unwilling
ness to come forward, and lead the assault on the confeder
ated legions of Rome. On the contrary, he felt that this was a
work to which, on account of his age, his infirm constitution,
and his peculiar temperament, he was altogether unequal.
For another reason he was quite disqualified from being a
leader in the work of emancipation. He greatly disliked
-all the modern languages, and would not take the trouble
to gain a sufficient knowledge of them to enable him to
hold a conversation in them. He has often expressed a wish
that every language were proscribed excepting the Latin
and Greek. But the Reformation/, as an eminent writer
observes, was to be an emancipation wrought among
people not of Latin, but of Teutonic descent, through the
medium of the vernacular language, t He was unwilling,
too, to separate from his friends, Warham, More, Mountjoy,
Fisher, and others, whose names were hallowed by a
thousand tender recollections. We cannot indeed suppose
that the probable loss of his pensions, and the fear of
coming to want, w^ould have had the effect of preventing him
* Jortin s "Life," vol. i. p. 273. t Milman s Essays, p. 128.
142
212 THE AUTHORITY OF THE CHURCH.
from openly placing himself under the banner of the Re
formers ; but still I am afraid that the prospect of losing
the favour of Henry VIII. , Charles V., and the Popes,
might have had a considerable influence in determining his
conduct, for he often, as we shall see hereafter, showed a
childish vanity when he spoke of the numerous letters which
he had received from them, and of the many gifts and
tokens of their high appreciation of his mental endowments
and profound erudition which they had conferred upon him.
Perhaps these considerations would have had less influence
with him, if he could have understood that this was a death-
struggle on the issue of which was to depend the emancipa
tion of the nations of Europe from their spiritual and
temporal bondage. Perhaps, too, he would have shown,
more decision if he had been free from the prejudices of
education. He had very confused notions about the
authority of the Roman Catholic Church as an arbiter of
controversies. He talks much about implicit submission to
her judgment in matters of faith. We must remember that
Luther was under the influence of the same prejudices. " I
entered on this affair," he said, " with great fear and
trembling. Who was I at that time I a poor wretched
despicable friar, more like to a dead body than a man who
was I to oppose the majesty of the Pope, in whose presence
not only the kings of the earth and the entire world, but
further, if I may so speak, heaven and earth trembled, and
were constrained to obey his nod ?"* Since then a man,
in the prime of life, of an iron constitution, of great personal
courage, and of an indomitable will, found it very difficult
to cast off his superstitious reverence for the Pope, and
enter on a deadly struggle with that giant who had so long
lorded it over God s heritage, a man too who had not the
same connection as Erasmus with the Pope, the bigoted
* D Aubigne s " History of the Reformation," vol. i. p. 129.
DIFFICULTIES IN THE WAY OF A CHANGE. 213
sovereigns of Europe, and the dignitaries of the Church of
Eome, we can easily imagine that the latter would expe
rience great difficulty in making a change if we remember that
he had come to an age when men cannot, without a very strong
effort, divest themselves of cherished prejudices and pre
possessions, that disease incapacitated him for that effort, or
for vigorous action of any description, and that he had now
arrived at a time of life when a mind, the whole force of
which had been given in youth and in manhood to the
investigation of truth, longed ardently for repose, and was
naturally unwilling to give itself to the solution of per
plexing and difficult questions. He could riot decide for
either party, for he thought that both had some errors. We
shall have occasion to mention presently causes of his
alienation from the Reformers. AVe could have wished,
indeed, that the case had been otherwise, not only on
account of his peace of mind, as we shall see hereafter, but
also on account of the vast influence, which, if he had been
more decided, he would have exercised on the progress of
this great religious revolution. But while we condemn him
for his failings, let us never forget the debt of gratitude
which we owe to him ; that he spent a long and laborious
life in opposing barbarous ignorance, blind superstition, and
many of the errors of the Church of Rome ; and, let us
admit, that he deserves to be called the most illustrious of
the Reformers before the Reformation.
About the time when Luther commenced his career, the
opposition of the ecclesiastics to Erasmus began. At all
times and in all places, but especially from the pulpits, were
now heard fierce invectives against him. Up to the year
1520, he enjoyed the esteem and confidence of the leading
men of both parties. Those who assailed him were men of
-an inferior class, monks and friars. He refers to this oppo-
214 OPTCSITICN OF TEE MOKES TO ERASMUS.
sition in a letter to his friend, Cardinal Campegius.* He
says that if he censured them, he meant only the vicious
part of them, and had taken no greater liberties than
Jerome had taken before him, who was himself a monk..
He did not, however, remember that the number of those
to whom his censures were applicable was very great in
deed; and that whole orders were remarkable for their
disregard of every social and relative obligation. We can
not wonder that they should have been so much incensed
against him, when we remember that in his "Praise of
Folly," and his " Enchiridion," as we have seen, and more
recently still, as I have stated, in a new preface to the
latter, he had censured their formality, their gross ignor
ance, and their obstinate attachment to the barbarous scho
lastic philosophy.
The monks brought the most absurd charges against him
and the Lutherans. Writing to the Archbishop of Maintz,
he says, " He was formerly reckoned a heretic who differed
from the Gospels, from the articles of faith, or from what
had equal authority with them. Now any man who differs
from Thomas is called a heretic. What does not please
them, what they do not understand, is heresy. To know
Greek is heresy ; to show refinement in conversation is
heresy ; whatever they do not do themselves is heresy ."t
He also states in his letter to Campegius, already referred
to, that the monks, headed by some Dominicans and Car
melites, stirred heaven and earth to ruin the professors of
literature, whom they railed against in their sermons as de
testable heretics, doubtless because they imagined that they
had promoted the progress of the Reformation. In a letter
to Franciscus Chiregatus he complains of the malice of the
monks who, in their theological lectures, and in their ser
mons, affected to couple him with Luther. He says that a
* Op, torn, iii. p. 444, edit. Bas. t Ibid. p. 403, edit. Bas.
STORY ABOUT THE FOWLS. 215
certain monk, a coadjutor to the Bisliop of Tournay, had
declaimed at Bruges against Luther and him 5 and that,
being asked by a magistrate what heresies there were in the
books of Erasmus, replied, " I have not read them ; once I
attempted to read his " Paraphrases," but I found the La-
tinity too exalted. I am afraid that he may have fallen into
some heresy on account of his exalted Latinity."*
The following amusing story in a letter from Bilibald
Pirckheimer to Erasmus may serve to show the ignorance
and prejudices of the monks. A Mendicant monk, being in
a company where Erasmus was highly commended, did not
hesitate to express his dissatisfaction by his look and man
ner. On being urged to declare what fault he had to find
with him, he said that he was a notorious eater of fowls ;
and that he knew it to be the case, not only because he had
seen it himself, but because others had told him of it. " Did
Erasmus buy them or steal them ?" asked Pirckheimer. " He
bought them," replied the monk. " Why, then," said
Pirckheimer, " there is a certain fox, which is a greater
knave ; for he often comes into my yard and takes away a
fowl without paying me. But is it then a sin to eat fowls ]"
" Most certainly," said the monk; "it is the siii of glut
tony, and it becomes the more heinous when it is committed
by Churchmen." " Perhaps," said Pirckheimer, " he eats
them on fast-days." "No," replied the monk; "but we,
who are ecclesiastics, ought to have nothing to do with deli
cacies of this description." " Ah ! my good father, you
have not got that large paunch by eating dry bread ; and if
all the fowls which now fill it could raise their voice, and
cackle all together, they would make noise enough to drown
the drums and trumpets of an army !" t
The following story of a certain Dr. Standish, afterwards
Bishop of St. Asaph, may be given to show the ignorant op-
* Op. torn. iii. p. 45S, edit. Bas. t Ibid. p. 540, edit. Lugd.
216 STxVNDISH s SEEM ON AGAINST ERASMUS.
position of the ecclesiastics to Erasmus. He was preaching
at St. Paul s Cross on the subject of Christian charity ; but
he very soon ceased to allude to it, and made a violent at
tack upon Erasmus, and his translation of the New Testa
ment into Latin. He said that it was intolerable that Eras
mus should dare to corrupt the Gospel of St. John ; for
when the Church had for so many years read, " In princi-
pio erat verbum," he had brought in a new reading, " In
principio erat sermo." " He added " wrote Erasmus, " that
Augustine liked the word * verbum better than ratio, and
gave his reasons for it. But this Grecian, Erasmus, does not
understand those reasons. After he had continued for some
time in this strain, he tried his eloquence in moving the affec
tions of the people ; he deplored his condition that where he
had for so many years read, In principio erat verbum, he
must now be compelled to read In principio erat sermo/
hoping, by this lamentable complaint., to move the people
to tears. Then, with loud protestations, he called upon the
Mayor of the city of London, the aldermen, and all the
common people to give their assistance, for the Christian
religion was in the greatest danger. He thought that he
spoke as if he were inspired, and yet he pleased nobody ;
for those who were only moderately learned wondered at
his folly ; those who had any sense laughed at trifles which
had no connection with his subject ; and those who were of
a more serious character were greatly offended, because he
filled the ears of the people, who expected to hear some
thing very different, with babbling of this description."
Standish dined the same day at Court, and two learned
friends of Erasmus seated themselves on purpose at the
same table with him. They asked him whether he had
read the translation of Erasmus. His answer was that he
had read as much as he had any inclination to read. They
proved that he had altogether mistaken the sense of the
STANDISH s ACCUSATION OF HIM BEFOEE THE COUKT. 217
passage in Augustine ; and told him that he had acted very
badly in having attacked in public, for a passage in his
writings, a man who had otherwise deserved well, when he
had neither read nor understood the matter. After hav
ing brought him to confess that what he had preached was
from pure zeal, and having proved to him by one instance,
to the great amusement of the party, that he was very
ignorant, and that his zeal was without knowledge, Stan-
dish became very angry, and said to one of them, " You
had better then go up into the pulpit and preach against
me." "No," he said, "Iain not so foolish as to preach
these things to tradesmen and old women. If I were to
preach at Paul s Cross to-day, I should publicly declare what
you have said to be false and heretical." Standish, when
he heard this, became still more angry, and when the same
person went on to say, "You find fault with the translation
of Erasmus, and say that it contains heresy, when the Pope
has confirmed it by two Bulls," he was quite confounded,
but he showed neither shame nor repentance.*
The following is another story of Standish after he had
become Bishop, and of his zeal against Erasmus. One day
at Court, he broke through the crowd, and fell down on his
knees before the King and Queen. Those who were present
expected something extraordinary from a venerable man,
who enjoyed a high reputation as a divine. He began in
English, being well acquainted with his mother-tongue,
highly to applaud their Majesties ancestors for their
religious zeal ; he then exhorted them to tread in their
footsteps ; and afterwards, with eyes and hands uplifted to
heaven, called on them to suppress the heretical books of
Erasmus, and to save the Church from the danger with
which she was threatened. The same two persons who had
argued with him on the former occasion happened to be
* Eras. Ilermamio BincLio. Op. torn. iii. p. 484, edit. Bas.
218 LEE S OPPOSITION TO HIM.
standing near the King, one of whom said to him : " Pray,,
my lord, since you would instil these prejudices into the
minds of princes, be kind enough to show what passages
there are in the works of Erasmus from which the Church
is to expect deadly heresies and dangerous schisms 1" The
Bishop promised to do so, and stated, amongst other charges
against Erasmus, that he had taken away the article of the
resurrection ; " for Paul," he said, " in his Epistle to the
Colossians," which he mistook for the first to the Corin
thians, writes thus : " Omncs- quidem resurgemus,, sed non
omnes immutabimur " but Erasmus, in the Greek, reads it
thus : " Omnes quidem non dormiemus, sed omnes immuta
bimur." One of the friends of Erasmus, having shown him
that this reading did not affect the doctrine of the resur
rection, and was the true reading of the ancient Fathers, and
particularly St. Jerome, the Bishop admitted that this was
the case, but that he had it from the Hebrew ; and repeated
this error until it was manifest to all that he thought that
St. Paul had written that Epistle in Hebrew. Then the
King, in order to prevent the complete discomfiture of the
Bishop, changed the subject of conversation. *
But the most violent of the English opponents of Erasmus
was Edward Lee, afterwards Archbishop of York. His
patience was so tried by his slanders and opposition,
that he said he wished that Lee were not an Englishman,
since he was a disgrace to his country. He valued him
self on his patience, but it appears that he often lost it in
his arguments with Lee. More chastised the "ignorant and
obscure monk," for his presumption in opposing the great
scholar and divine. t Erasmus was greatly exasperated at
his treatment by a man who, though he held no public office
by which he was required to attack him, and had not the
Eras. Hermanno Buscliio, Op. torn. iii. p. 4S5, edit. Bas.
t Jortin s Life, Appendix, vol. ii. p. 689.
ONE OF THE CHARGES OF THE MOKKS TRUE. 219
learning which qualified him to do so, yet often, disregard
ing the earnest entreaties of his friends, directed his en
venomed shafts against his character, and did not mind
what he suffered, provided he could accomplish his ruin.*
The epitaph on his tomb in York Cathedral, in which he is
described as a learned, good, and generous man, gives an
incorrect idea of one whose conduct was, in many respects,,
highly blarnable, and who showed in his intercourse
with Erasmus, his ignorance and his want of that grace of
charity which communicates to the human character its
truest beauty, and stamps upon it its highest excellence.
The charges brought against Erasmus were, as we have
seen, absurd and frivolous. He felt, however, at times, very
much indeed the attacks thus made upon him. Writing to
one of his friends, he says : "I am not anxious to live for
ever in the memory of my fellow-creatures, but still a good
man ought not to neglect his reputation. The judgments-
of men, however, are various. How turbulent is the present
age ! How many dissonant voices are there in the same
chorus ! so that whoever now wishes to become an author,
cannot possibly avoid exposing himself to many assailants.
.... If I had known what it is to possess a distinguished
name, I should have used every effort to prevent any but
my servants from knowing Erasmus. "t
One charge, however, brought by the monks against
Erasmus, was partly a just one, that he had prepared the
way foi Luther. Erasmus, as they used to say, laid the egg y
dud Luther hatched it.
There can be no doubt that the examination of the works
of the ancient Greeks, which, in consequence of the fall of
Constantinople, were conveyed to Europe, was a most im
portant means of promoting the Reformation. For the
* Knight s Life, p. 289.
t Eras. P. Tomicio, Op. torn. iii. p. 1093, edit. Bas.
220 ERASMUS S CLASSICAL WORKS.
effect of the revival of the study of the immortal writers of
antiquity was that the human mind was aroused from its
slumber, and pushed its inquiries into that vast and com
plex system of error which the Roman Catholic Church had
declared to be essential to the salvation of its followers.
Now, as we have seen in our introductory chapter, classical
students were to be found in various parts of Europe. But
Erasmus had been greatly instrumental in promoting the
love and study of the works of the ancient writers. I have
already described his " Adages," which are a monument of
his profound erudition, his amazing industry, and his
extensive knowledge of classical authors. He had also
translated almost the whole of Lucian, most of the moral
works of Plutarch, some orations of Libanius, and several
plays of Euripides into Latin, avowedly for the purpose of
perfecting himself in the Greek language. He also published
afterwards editions of the works of Aristotle and Demos
thenes, Livy, Terence, Pliny, Cicero s "Offices," and his
" Tusculan Disputations, Q. Curtius, the minor historians,
Seneca the philosopher, Suetonius, and some minor works.
The last were chiefly for the use of Dean Colet s school.
I shall call attention hereafter to another remarkable
work, the " Ciceronianus." These have, in consequence of
the improvement in classical scholarship, long since given
place to better editions. Scholars have, however, expressed
their obligations to him, as well as their admiration of the
amazing industry, the great genius, and the vast learning of
a man who, though unaided by lexicons, commentaries, and
annotations, and hindered in his work by the scarcity of
books, the difficulty of procuring ancient manuscripts, the
want of chronological tables, and other aids, was able to
carry through the press voluminous works, the preparation
and publication of which would, even now, when these and
other appliances are available, and when a great improve-
THE REFORMATION PROMOTED BY HIS SCHOLARSHIP. 221
ment has been effected in the art of printing, task the
energies of the most diligent scholar of the age in which we
live.
But we must consider the purpose to which this scholar
ship was applied, in order that we may see how he prepared
the way for the Reformation. The chapter on the l Novum
Instrumentum," and the account of the " Paraphrases," will
serve to illustrate this part of our subject. No doubt the
latter, by promoting the study of the Scriptures, aided the
Reformers in their work. By publishing the New Testament
in the original tongue, he enabled theologians to see the
purity of their doctrine. He further imposed upon himself
the herculean task of bringing out, one after another,
editions of the early Fathers of the Church a task which
we may well contemplate with wonder, for it involved
greater labour even than the publication of the works of the
classical writers. He published the works of Jerome,
Hilary, Ambrose, Irenseus, St. Augustine, St. Chrysostom,.
part of St. Basil s works, some works of Lactantius and
Epiphanius, Cyprian, the pseudo-Arnobius, some treatises
of St. Athanasius, and others ; thus showing to the world
that their doctrines agreed with those of the Reformers,
that the Church of Rome had corrupted as well as mutilated
the faitli once delivered to the saints, and affording us the
means of reforming our Church according to the Scriptural
model of the earliest ages.
But satire was the most formidable weapon wielded by
Erasmus. We have seen ho\v, in his "Praise of Folly," he
used it against the Schoolmen. He has also shown the
barrenness of their system in his more serious works. By
these combined methods he did more than anyone else to
emancipate the human mind from its bondage to the
scholastic philosophy, and to prepare Europe for the
teaching of the Gospels. He attacked also, with the same
222 HIS WIT DIRECTED AGAINST THE CHURCH OF ROME.
weapon, the vices, the follies, and the superstitions of the
age in which he lived. In all probability, if he had con
demned them in a graver form, a cry of indignation would
have rung through Europe, and he would have been called
upon to expiate his offence in the dungeon or at the stake.
But his sportive wit ensured his impunity. The authori
ties in Church and State, even though they might be fully
sensible of the danger of his opinions, could not place under
ban and anathema works which the world received with un-
dissembled merriment. -When in the "Praise of Folly"
he ridiculed the ignorance, the absurdities, and the formalism
of the monks, and inveighed against them on account of their
encouragement of superstition, as well as their disregard of
every social and relative obligation ; when in the same work,
and in his Colloquies, two of which, given in former chapters,
may serve as a specimen of the rest, he did not conceal his
scorn for the superstitions of the age, almost every one of
which he caused to pass in review before his readers j when
afterwards changing his playful wit for indignant satire, he
assailed Popes, Monarchs, Cardinals, and Bishops, with his
merciless raillery; we cannot fail to see that he must have pre
pared the way for that Reformation of doctrine and manners
which has been a blessing to generations then unborn.
But we must consider also the opinions of Erasmus, if
we would seeclearly how far the Reformers were indebted
to him. Now I am quite willing to admit that he was a
hasty writer, that he was occasionally guilty of inaccuracies,
and that he may have given expression to some views which
were not the result of his deliberate judgment. He wrote
thus to his friend Robert Aldridge, Bishop of Carlisle :
" The advice which you give me respecting the revision of
my works is of no use. I am naturally extempore, and very
little inclined to examine what I have written. And you
know how difficult it is for an old man to fight against
HIS CONDEMNATION OF THE DOCTRINES OF ROMANISM. 223
nature." 1 But still I have no hesitation in saying that he
was firmly convinced that many of the doctrines of the
Church of Home were condemned alike by reason and by
revelation. He ridiculed, for instance, in the " Praise of
Folly " those who " derive comfort from false pardons, and
indulgences, and who measure the spaces of purgatory as
with an hour-glass ; who, having cast down a small piece of
money, taken from that vast amount which they have
gained unjustly, think that all the guilt of their life is
purged away."t Lystrius had indeed in a note in an
edition published about the time when Luther began his
career, explained that Papal indulgences are not here
referred to unless they be false. He had, however, made
matters worse by adding immediately : " This one thing I
know, that what Christ promised respecting the remission
of sins is more certain than what is promised by men,
especially since this whole affair of indulgences is of recent
date and invention. Finally a great many people, relying
on these pardons, are encouraged in crime, and never think
of changing their lives. "J Take again what he says in that
severe and powerful passage in which he describes the
appearance of monks on the judgment-day : "Whence
comes this new race of Jews? I acknowledge one law as realty
mine, of which I hear nothing. Formerly, when on earth,
without a parable, I promised my Father s inheritance not to
austerities, prayers, or fastings, but to faith, and the offices of
charity. I do not acknowledge those who make much of their
good deeds." Again he speaks of the folly of worshipping a
little image marked with a coal on the wall, in the same
manner as Christ himself. || He had also, as we have seen
in his Colloquies, derided the worship and adoration as well
* Op. torn. iii. p. 893, edit. Bas. t See pages 81, 82.
See also Basle edition of 167G, cum commentariis Gul. Lystri, et
figuris J. Holbenii. See page 91. 11 See page 87.
224 HIS CONDEMNATION OF THE DOCTRINES OF EOMANISM.
of images as of relics. He thus spoke of the worship of
the Virgin Mary and the Saints. " Some there are who have
prayers addressed to them on all occasions, especially the
Virgin Mary, to whom the common people attribute more
power than they do to her Son. Now from these Saints,
what, I say, do men ask, excepting those things which
relate to folly ]"* In the " Shipwreck," while one addressed
himself with loud cries to one Saint, one to another, there is
one calm person shown as the only true Christian among
them, who addressed himself to God alone. In a letter
written soon after Luther began his career, he openly
declared that Rome had long since become Babylon ; that
a very great Reformation was required ; that all pious men
expressed with sighs their earnest desires for it ; and that
Luther, when he began to preach, became the most
popular man whom the world had ever seen, because men
thought that he was honest and courageous, and that he
had been raised up by God to apply a remedy to the evils
which were the subject of complaint. t Here Erasmus
follows the illustrious Dante and Petrarch, and many dis
tinguished men before them, in that identification of Rome
with Babylon, which unquestionably did much to promote
the Reformation.
The Enchiridion is, as we have seen, directed against
those who asserted that true religion consisted in the
acceptance of scholastic dogmas, or the performance of
outward ceremonies. In it he expresses, besides, some
opinions which agree with those of the Reformers. He
evidently thinks little of the worship of the image of Christ,
of Saints, and of relics, but he thinks much of the imitation
of their holy and blessed example.} "No worship," he
says, "is more acceptable to many than the attempt to
* See page 82.
t Eras. Jod. Jonre, op. torn iii. p. 550, edit. Bas.
J Op. torn. v. p. 27, edit. Bas.
HIS CONDEMNATION OP THE DOCTRINES OP EOMAXIS3I. 225
imitate her humility ; none is more pleasing to the Saints
than the laborious endeavour to exhibit in your own life a
transcript of their virtues. If you adore the b<xies of Paul,
buried in a chest, will you not show respect to the mind of
Paul, exhibited in his writings ?" Look again at the attack
which he made on the monks. " I think nothing of your
vigils, your fastings, your silence, your prayers, and your other
observances of the same description. I will not believe that
a man can be in the Spirit, unless I see the fruits of the
Spirit. Why should I not declare you to be in the flesh,
when, after your exercises of this kind, which are almost
worldly, I see in you still the works of the flesh ? I refer to
your envy, greater than that of a woman ; to your anger
^and fierceness, like that of a soldier ; to your unappeasable
love of strife ; to your railing accusations ; to your slander
ous tongue, which poisons like a viper s ; to your stubborn
ness, your slippery faith, your vanity, your lying, your
flattery."* Look, too, at his condemnation of the distinc
tion drawn in the Church of Kome between sins mortal and
venial. " You must take care not to despise any one sin,
as if it were of little consequence. In this matter many are
deceiving themselves, so that while they freely indulge
themselves in one or another vice, which every one looks
upon as venial, they strongly condemn sins of another
description. "t Consider also his exhortations to a diligent
study of the Scriptures, as a means of victory in our spiri
tual warfare. "How, I ask, did Jesus Christ, our Head,
conquer Satan ? Did He not, when he answered Him from
Scripture, strike the forehead of His enemy, as David con
quered Goliath with stones taken from the brook ? >; J
Examine also the following observations on the performance
of rites and ceremonies. " You think that a lighted taper
* Op. torn. v. p. 30, edit. Bas. t Ibid. p. 47. i Ibid. p. 10.
15
226 HIS CONDEMNATION OF THE DOCTEINES OP EOMANISM.
is a sacrifice. But David calls the sacrifices of God a broken
spirit. Of what use is it for the body to be covered with a
holy cowl, vfclien the soul wears a filthy garment T If you
have a snow-white tunic, take care that the vestments of
the inner man are white as snow. . t . . You tell me that you
worship the wood of the cross. Follow much more the
mystery of the cross. You fast and abstain from those
things which do not pollute the man ; and yet you do not
refrain from impure words which defile your own conscience,
and the consciences of others. . . . You adorn a temple of
stone. You have a reverence for sacred places. What
matters all this, if the temple of your breast, whose wall
Ezekiel pierced through, is profaned with the abominations
of Egypt ? . . . . Can it avail you with your body to have gone
on a pilgrimage to Jerusalem, when your mind within is
like Sodom, Egypt, or Babylon ? It is not a matter of much
importance for you to place your feet in the footprints of
Christ ; but it is a matter of paramount importance for you
to follow them with your affections. If you think much of
a visit to the sepulchre of our Lord, should you not think
still more of acting out in your life the mystery of his
burial 1 . . . The more you love Christ, the more will you hate
your sins ; for the hatred of ; sin must follow the love of
piety, as the shadow accompanies the body. I would rather
that you should once hate your sins truly within, than ten
times confess them in the language of abhorrence to a priest."*
"When we read all these extracts, we must surely admit
that there is some truth in those words, " Erasmus laid the
egg. and Luther hatched it."
Again, when we find him in his Commentary on Matthew
xvi. 18, " On this rock I will build My Church," express
ing his surprise that any one should have so perverted these
;; - Op. tern. v. pp. 32, 33, edit. Bas.
THE EXTRAVAGANT POWEK OF THE POPE CONDEMNED. 227
words as to apply them exclusively to the Roman Pontiff,
to whom indeed they apply first of all, as the Head of the
Christian Church, yet not to him only, but to all Chris
tians ; when again we find him saying on Matt. xvii. 5,
that " Christ is. the only Teacher appointed by God, and
that this authority has been committed to no Bishop, Pope,
or Prince " when further we find him inveighing against
pretended relics in a note on Matt, xxiii. 5, "for to
be seen of men ;" animadverting on the royal palaces
of St. Peter s vicar, when speaking of the lodging of Peter
with one Simon a tanner, mentioned in Acts ix. 43 ; ex
pressing doubts in his notes whether marriage was a Sacra
ment, attacking the celibacy of the clergy, and expressing
the wish in that noble passage already quoted from his
"Paraclesis," that the Scriptures might be translated into all
the languages in the world ; when further we find him saying
in his " Spongia " against Hutten that he " allows the first
place amongst Metropolitans to the Roman Pontiffs, but that
he has never defended the extravagant power which they
have usurped for some centuries " we must admit that he
had done his best to shake to its foundation the structure
of their spiritual and temporal dominion.
I could easily bring forward numerous other passages from
his writings of a similar tone and tendency. We might, how
ever, suppose that though Erasmus was thus outspoken in the
expression of his opinion, his books would have a limited sale,
and so he would be unable to influence public opinion in Eu
rope. But we shall find that the very contrary was the case.
The sale of his works is a perfect marvel in the history of lite
rature. His opinions flew on the wings of the press through
out Europe. We should say that when we take into account
that the number of readers in those days was a mere hand
ful when compared with the number at the present time,
and that the resources of printing establishments were very
152
228 EXTRAORDINARY SALE OP HIS WORKS.
different from what they now are, the sale of his works was
far greater in proportion than the sale of those of the most
popular author of the a.ge in which we live. The "Praise
of Folly " and the "Colloquies" were in every palace, in
every house, in every school, in every monastery. A book
seller at Paris, on giving out that the latter work was pro
hibited, sold above 24,000 of one impression.* Both these
works were translated into many of the languages of Europe.
A Spanish friend informed Erasmus that in Spain his "Col
loquies " were flying through the hands of men and women. t
The " Praise of Folly." in a few months after its publication,
went through seven editions. In April, 1515, E-henanus
wrote to Erasmus to say that, out of an edition of 1800 of
the " Praise of Folly," just printed by Froben, with notes
by Lystrius, only sixty remained on hand.j: After this
edition the sale was very rapid, for the notes just referred
to had made it intelligible to many who had not previously
understood the object of the author. The monks, whose
ignorance of Latin was so great that they could not under
stand the psalms which they read every day, now, when it
was translated into modern languages, understood the dia
tribes against them, and vented their indignation upon
Erasmus. Twenty-seven editions of this popular work were
published during his life-time.
His " Adages" also had an extraordinary sale. The first
edition, imperfect as we have seen, was printed at Paris in
1500. Two more editions were soon afterwards brought out
at Strasburg ; and a fourth was printed at Venice in 1508.
Froben, without the knowledge of Erasmus, had, before his
acquaintance with him, imitated it at Basle in 1513. In
1517 Froben printed a sixth edition of this work, which
* Knight s "Life," p. 203.
"h Op. tom. iii. p. 1715| edit. Lugd.
t Seebohin s "Oxford Reformers," p. 312.
EXTEAOEDINABT SALE OF HIS WOEKS. 229
had now become a thick folio volume. The sale of this
edition was, considering the size, very rapid; for it was
followed in 1520 by a larger folio edition containing 800
pages. We shall understand the full significance of the
sale of this work with reference to the progress of the Refor
mation, when we remember that it not only diffused that
knowledge of classical literature which, as we have seen,
greatly aided it, but that it also became the means of
making known to the world, as I have shown,, the indig
nation which Erasmus felt when he saw the base conduct of
the monarchs of Europe, and the vices, the follies, the im
postures, and the scandals of the Church and Court of Rome.
I need not dwell upon the rapid sale of the "Enchiridion,""
as it was mentioned in a former chapter. Two separate
collections of some of his letters were printed by Froben in
1518, and became the means of propagating through Europe
the views expressed to his friends on the corruptions of the
Church of Rome. I shall have occasion to refer to these
letters hereafter. The letter to Volzius, already referred
to, attached to the new edition of the " Enchiridion," called
for in 1518, in which he censured, with impetuous acrimony,
monks, Schoolmen, ecclesiastics, and princes, was eagerly
read all over Europe, and passed, in a short time, through
several editions. Another edition of the "Enchiridion"
itself was published at Cologne the next year. Many, even
in bigoted Roman Catholic countries, who would have been
unwilling to read works written by the leading Reformers,
quite devoured the works of Erasmus, and were ultimately
led to promote the progress of the Reformation. Multi
tudes in Spain, where the Pope had more devoted adhe
rents than in any European country, eagerly, but uncon
sciously, imbibed the heretical poison contained in the
"Enchiridion." "There is scarcely any one/ writes Al-
phonzo Fernandez to Erasmus, " in the Court of the
230 HIS WORKS READ BY EOMANISTS.
Emperor, any citizen of our cities, or member of our churches
and convents, no not even an hotel or country inn, that has
not a copy of the Enchiridion of Erasmus in Spanish.
This short work has made the name of Erasmus a household
word in circles where it was previously unknown and had
not been heard of."* This letter was written on November
27th, 1527. In quoting it, as well as referring to one or
two other facts, I have a little departed from the proper
order of events ; but I have found it necessary to do so in
order that I may illustrate this part of our subject. Thus,
then, he did the work of the Reformers in circles to which
they could not have obtained access. The wit with which
some of his works were seasoned, became like the honey
which, as the poet says, nurses place on the edge of the
vessel in order that children may be led to take the
healing medicinal draught.t Many Romanists, attracted
in this manner many also who, not caring for the wit, read
his works on account of the learning and reputation of the
author, when they would not have read those of a leading
Reformer learnt from him the errors of the Church of
Rome, and became afterwards the most zealous in conveying
a knowledge of them to others. Thus Erasmus promoted
the progress of the Reformation throughout the Continent of
Europe.
:: ~ Life and Writings of "Juan, de Valilez," by Benjamin Wiffen,
London, Quaritch, 1SG5, p. 41.
t Cosi all egro faiiciul porgiamo aspersi
Di soave licor gli orli del vaso,
Succhi amari ingannato intanto ei beve,
E dall inganno suo vita riceve.
Tasso, " Gerusalemme Liberata," can. i. s. 3.
; CHARLES, KING OF SPAIN, ELECTED EMPEROR. 231
CHAPTER IX.
GRADUAL ALIENATION FROM THE REFORMERS. TREATISE
ON FREE-WILL AND COLLOQUIES. (A.D. 1519 1524.)
ON January 12, 1519, the Emperor Maximilian died. This
was an important event in its bearing upon the history of
the Reformation. Charles, King of Spain, and Francis I.
of France, were candidates for the vacant dignity. Leo X.
objected to the election of either of them. He thought that
Charles, as King of Spain and Naples, and master of the
new world, and Francis as King of France and Duke of
Milan, would acquire a degree of power prejudicial to the
independence of the Roman see, and to the liberties of
Europe. ; As he was anxious through the influence of Fre
deric, the Elector of Saxony, in the Electoral college to pre
vent the election of either of them, he resolved to suspend
all proceedings against Luther.
Now, every one acquainted with the history of the period
is aware that the crown was first offered to Frederic. He,
however, declined it because he thought that he had not
sufficient power to ensure the safety of Germany ; and
recommended the electors to appoint Charles, as his here
ditary dominions would constitute a barrier against the
threatened invasion from Turkey, and as he possessed a
numerous army which would enable him to beat back the
Turkish hordes. The result was that Charles was unani-
232 MAGNANIMOUS CONDUCT OF THE ELECTOE.
mously elected. Erasmus, writing to Bishop Fisher, de
scribes this magnanimous conduct of the Elector. " Charles
never would have borne the imperial title if it had not been
declined by Frederic, whose glory in refusing the honour
was greater than if he had accepted it. In the same noble
spirit he firmly refused the 30,000 florins offered him by
our people" (the agents of Charles). " When he was urged
at least to allow 10,000 florins to be given to his ser
vants, They may take them, ho said, if they like,
but no one shall remain my servant another day who
accepts a, single piece of gold ! The next day" (continued
Erasmus) "he took horse and departed, lest they should con
tinue to worry him. This was related to me as an entirely
trustworthy statement by the Bishop of Liege, who was
present at the Imperial Diet.""
Tims, then, Charles was called to preside over the des
tinies of Germany. Very soon after his election we find
him courting the alliance of the Pope, as a means of enabling
him to stay his rival Francis I. in his onward career of
ambition. The former was at first unwilling to aid either
of these monarchs in the prosecution of their schemes. At
length he determined to make common cause with Charles.
He thought that when he had, by his assistance, humbled
Francis, he might expel him also from the soil of Italy.
Charles had, with the view of securing the alliance of the
Pope, determined on sacrificing Luther to his vengeance.
The subject of the condemnation of Luther was now debated
in the Papal conclave. The Pope was at first disposed to
make some concessions to him, because he thought that he
would thus be induced to desist from lifting up his voice
against the corruptions of the Church. At length, overcome-
by the importunity of others, he issued, on June 15th, 1520.
* Op. torn. iii. p. 511, edit. Lugd.
ERASMUS CONDEMNS TEE BULL AGAINST LUTHEE. 233
that famous Bull against Luther, which directed his works
to be given to the flames, and himself and his adherents to
be seized and to be brought to Eome.
Erasmus, soon after this time, wrote a letter to Novio ma
gus with reference to this Bull : " I fear," he says, " for the
unfortunate Luther; so violent is the conspiracy, and so
strongly have the Pope and princes been instigated against
him. Would to God he had followed my advice, and had
abstained from odious and seditious proceedings. He would
then have done more good, and exposed himself to less
hatred. It would be no great matter that one man should
perish ; but if the monks have the upper hand they will
destroy literature. They begin again to attack Reuchlin only
because they hate Luther."*
Erasmus wrote a letter soon after this time to his friend,
Cardinal Campegius, in which hs expressed his disapproba
tion of this Bull. " All the world," he says, " have accounted
Leo s Bull too severe, and not reconcilable with the mild
temper of that Pontiff." The same letter also contains the
following remarkable declaration respecting Luther. " I
have not myself read more than twelve pages of his works,
and those hastily, but even in that hasty reading I have
discerned great natural talents, and a singular faculty for
explaining the Holy Scriptures. I have heard excellent
men, equally remarkable for their learning and their piety,
congratulate themselves on having been made acquainted
with his books. I observed that in proportion as they
were of blameless character, and the more nearly they
approached to evangelical purity, the less hostile they were
to him. His moral character was highly praised by some
who could not endure his doctrine. As to his spirit, which
God alone can with certaint} r judge, I choose rather to think
Op. torn. iii. p. 414, edit. Bas.
234 HIS DETERMINATION TO ADHERE TO ROME.
too favourably, than too badly of it. To tell the truth, the
Christian world has long been weary of those teachers who
attach too much importance to trifling inventions and hu
man constitutions, and thirsts after the pure and living
water drawn from the sources of the Apostles and Evangel
ists. Luther seemed to me well fitted by nature for this
work, and inflamed with zeal for the prosecution of it.
Thus far I have favoured Luther : I have favoured the good
which I saw, or fancied that I saw, in him."
But though he thus condemned the Pope s Bull, and
approved of Luther, he was still determined to adhere to
the See of Rome. " What have I to do with Luther, or what
have I to expect from, him, that I should join him to oppose
the Church of Rome which is a true part of the Church
Catholic, or to oppose the Roman Pontiff, who is the Head
of the Catholic Church ; I who should be unwilling to
resist the Bishop of rny own diocese ? I am not so impious
as to dissent from the Church, or so ungrateful as to oppose
Leo, from whom I have received so many favours, and by
whom I have been treated with so much indulgence." At
the same time, notwithstanding these expressions, he con
cludes his letter with expressing his strong disapprobation
of the severity of Leo, as well as of the vehemence of the
German Reformers."
Erasmus here comes forward as a peacemaker between the
contending parties. But the advice which he gives was not
likely to be followed by either of them. The Roman
Catholics would not be induced by his favourable report of
Luther to give him a fair hearing ; for they considered him
as a dangerous heretic, whose success would be immediately
followed by the subversion of that system from which they
-derived immense pecuniary advantage. Erasmus should
"" Op. torn. iii. p. 444, edit. Bas.
HIS EFFORTS AS A PEACEMAKER OF M) AVAIL. 235
have seen that it was absurd to suppose that the authorities
of the Church of Rome would have listened to the advice
of an insignificant monk. They might just as well be ex
pected to deal leniently with Luther, as the worst tyrant to
become a paragon of clemency, and to refrain from indulg
ing in the excesses of arbitrary power. Not satisfied with
.assailing the abuses and corruptions of the Church of Rome,
he had recently attacked the Pontificate itself. " It is
horrible," he said, " to see a man calling himself the Vicar
of Jesus Christ, displaying a magnificence such as no Em
peror ever equals. Is this being like the poor Jesus or the
humble St. Peter ] We are told that he is the lord of the
world. But Christ, whose Vicar he boasts of being, has
said, My kingdom is not of this world. And shall the
kingdom of a Vicar extend beyond that of his Lord?"*
Thus, then, the Pope would see the real nature of the con
test between himself and Luther. He must resign that
temporal power which he believed to have been transmitted
to him from the earliest ages for the government of the
Church. Erasmus, in his excessive desire for peace, must
have forgotten the motives which usually influence the con
duct of our fellow-creatures, or he could not have supposed
that any consideration would have induced Home to refrain
from raising her hand for the purpose of striking a terrible
blow at the bold man who had thus dared to assail the struc
ture of her temporal domination. On the other hand, if
Luther had recanted when the Pope fulminated his anathe
mas against him, he would have lost the fruit of all the
successes which he had hitherto obtained ; and, if he per
severed, he must expose himself to the charge of sedition
and turbulence. He felt that if he did not lift up his voice
against the corruptions of the Church of Home, he would
* Luther, Opp. lib. xvii. p. 457.
23G BUEXIXG- or THE PAPAL BULL BY LUTHEE.
become a traitor to tlie King of kings. Erasmus, by his
condemnation of their vehemence, gave great offence to the
German Eeformers. Though he declared that he would
remain faithful in his allegiance to the Pope, he found that
his sentiments were as unpopular as those of Luther with
the members of the Church of Rome. They dealt tenderly
with him, and did not anathematize him, notwithstanding
his seeming agreement with Luther, and his unsparing cen
sure of their vices and corruptions, because they thought
that if they drove him to extremities he would openty
throw himself into the camp of the Eeformers, and lend
them the aid of his herculean strength in making a deadly
onset on the great Papal army.
Luther, not long after the issuing of the Bull, declared by
a, public act his separation from the Church of Rome. A
fire was kindled at the east gate of AVittemberg, near the
holy cross, into which, in the presence of a large concourse
of the doctors and students of the University, he threw the
Canon Law, the Decretals of the Popes, and the Papal Bull.
Thus, then, having burnt his ships on the shore, he showed
that his only hope was in advancing against the enemy.
The question now universally discussed was whether
Frederic would permit the execution of the Bull within his
territories. He was now at Aix-la-Chapelle, to which place
he had gone for the purpose of assisting in placing on the
brows of the youthful Charles the diadem of the Holy
Roman Empire. Immediately after the ceremony, the
Emperor, with the princes, ministers, and ambassadors, went
to Cologne. Aleander and Carracioli were sent to him as
Papal nuncios, avowedly for the purpose of congratulating
him on his accession, but really to urge him to do his
utmost to suppress the Reformation. The former was not,
as Luther and others supposed, of Jewish extraction, but
was of an ancient race. Alexander VI. had appointed him
THE EMPEROR URGED TO EXECUTE THE BULL. 237
secretary to his son, that monster in human shape, Ca3sar
Borgia. Erasmus, who was acquainted with him, says of
him, "Aleander lived at Venice as a base epicurean, and
in high dignities."* Luther in a diatribe against him,
which is a good specimen of his polemic style, says of him,
" He is soon provoked, and passionate even to frenzy ;
insatiably covetous, and equally lustful ; arrogant to the
last degree, and eaten up with pride and vanity." All,
however, admit that he was vehement, indefatigable, and
devoted to the interests of the Papacy.
Soon after his arrival he presented to Charles the Papal
Bull. In doing so he said, " The Pope knows how to bring
three grammarians to good behaviour." He alluded to
Luther, Melanchthon, and Erasmus. Erasmus, who was at
this time staying at the house of Count Nuenar, the provost
of Cologne, was at the audience. He at first proposed to
the Emperor the burning of Luther s books and papers ; but
he very soon disclosed his real object,, and asked for an
edict directed against his person. The Emperor hesitated
to comply with this demand. He knew that in consequence
of the delay in the first instance to take measures against him,
and the opportunity which he had possessed of disseminat
ing his opinions during the vacancy in the Empire, when its
affairs were administered by his friend, the Elector of Saxony,
a powerful party had rallied round the Reformer which it
would be dangerous to offend. He told Aleander that he
must ask the opinion of the Elector. Accordingly Aleander
went to him. In his usual impetuous manner, interrupting
Carracioli, who wanted by mildness and flattery to work
upon the Elector, he required him to burn his writings, and
to deliver him up as a prisoner to the Pope.f Frederic at
first hesitated. Shall he who, animated by the spirit of the
* Jortin s "Life vol. i. p. 546. t Pallavicini, p. 86.
238 THE ELECTOR DISSUADED FROM FORSAKING LUTHER,
Crusaders, had visited the Holy Sepulchre, shall he who had
always been an ardent supporter of the authority of the Pope,
become a rebel against him, and forfeit his reputation for
piety, and zeal on behalf of the Church 1 He asked time to
deliberate. He was now urged by his nephew, John
Frederick, by Spalatin, who has left us an account of these
transactions, and by his other counsellors, not to abandon
Luther. At length he made up his mind on the subject.
For a short time lie had hesitated ; but the love of truth
and justice finally prevailed. His counsellors, on the 4th
of November, in compliance with instructions which they
had received from the Elector, told Aleander that no one
had shown him that Luther s writings had been refuted,
and ought to be cast into the fire, and required a safe con
duct that he might appear before learned and impartial
judges. Aleander, on hearing this reply, so different
from that which he expected, as he thought that the Elector
would be afraid of the danger to which he would be ex
posed in the event of his refusal, asked time to deliberate.
When he was again admitted to the presence of the counsel
lors, on finding that all his efforts to shake their determina
tion were in vain, he said, in a tone of affected indifference :
" That the Pope did not care to soil his hands with the
blood of the wretch, but that he should certainly execute
the Bull, and burn his writings."
Erasmus was, as I have said, at this time, at Cologne.
He had been summoned to the city by princes who wished
to have his advice on various important matters which were
to come under deliberation. The Elector, aware that great
weight would be attached to his opinion, sent to ask him to
pay him a visit, that he might consult with him on the
present crisis. The importance of that interview cannot
well be exaggerated. Upon its result depended the safety
of Luther, and perhaps the progress of the Reformation in
INTERVIEW OF EEASMUS WITH THE ELECTOB. 239
Germany. The Eeformers trembled for the consequences.
They thought that the Elector would be guided by the
opinion of Erasmus ; and they judged from his vacillating
temper, and from his known anxiety to stand well with the
Kulers of the Church, that he would give him such advice
as would lead him to deliver Luther up to those who were
thirsting for his blood. Spalatin, who was present, has
given us the following description of the conference :* " It
took place in December. Erasmus, the Prince, and Spalatin
conversed together, standing by the fire-side. The Elector
proposed to Erasmus that he should speak in Dutch,
which was his native language ; but Erasmus chose rather
to speak Latin. The Elector, though he understood that
language, conversed with him through Spalatin. He said
to him at once : What is your opinion of Luther ?" " Eras
mus," says Spalatin, " surprised at so direct a question, stood
musing, and delayed to give him an answer ; while Frederic,
as his custom was, when he was discoursing earnestly with
any one, gave him a searching look. The latter said at
length, in a half-joking tone : Luther has been guilty of"
two crimes ; he has attacked the crown of the Popes, and
the bellies of the monks. T,he Elector smiled ; but, at the
same time, gave Erasmus to understand that he spoke
seriously. The former then told him very plainly that good
men and lovers of the Gospel had taken the least offence at
Luther ; that they were much displeased at the cruelty of
the Bull, so unworthy of the mild and merciful Vicar of
Jesus Christ ; that the origin of the whole dispute was to
be found in the monks and their hatred for literature that
two Universities had condemned Luther, but had not con
futed him ; that his request was very reasonable to be tried
by impartial judges j that the Pope was more anxious about
* Spalatin, Hist. M.S. in Seckendorf, p. 291.
240 TESTIMONY OP ERASMUS IN" FAVOUR OF LUTHER.
his own glory than the honour of Jesus Christ ; that the trea
tises hitherto written against Luther were condemned even
by those who differed from him ; that the world was now
inflamed with a great love for evangelical truth, and that
this love ought not to be discouraged ; and that it would
be very improper for Charles to begin his reign with acts
of severity and violence." Spalatin informs us that he was
rejoiced at the result of this interview. He accompanied
the illustrious scholar to his lodgings, where he at once
committed to writing the substance of what he had said to
the Elector, and gave it to Spalatin. No sooner had he
done so, than he endeavoured to induce Spalatin to return
the manuscript. He was afraid that the nuncio would see
it, and that it would lower him in the good opinion of the
Papal party. Spalatin, however, at once refused compliance
with his request.
The fears just referred to were not without foundation.
All zealous Eomanists never forgave him his conduct at
Cologne. They felt that he had inflicted a grievous in
jury on their cause at a most important crisis of the
world s history. Pallavicini, the Roman Catholic historian,
relates that he held the Pope s Bull to be a forgery,
and that he would not be convinced of the contrary
till Aleander allowed him to examine it; that he went
about, like Nicodemus, by night, to the Emperor and his
counsellors, endeavouring to alienate their affections from
the Pope and Aleander, telling them that the Bull had
been extorted, contrary to the Pope s inclinations,, by the
artifices of evil disposed persons, and that in a conversation
with Aleander, he had expressed a hope that the order for
the burning of Luther s books might be rescinded.* These,
however, were reports probably circulated by Aleander,
* Pallavicini, vol. i. p. 87.
THE LETTERS OP ERASMUS.
for the purpose of lowering Erasmus in the estimation of the
Koman Catholic party. Thus Erasmus rendered a service
to the Reformers at this most important juncture. We
know that the Elector, fortified by his opinion, advocated
Luther s cause very warmly with the Emperor ; and that he
was more confirmed in his determination not to deliver
an innocent man into the hands of his merciless ad
versaries.
Erasmus, in the midst of the events just referred to,
published an edition of his letters. The volume containing
them was very much valued by all who wished to become
intimately acquainted with the great scholar. So high was
the place which he occupied in the republic of letters, that
learned men became anxious, not only to see the treasures
which he had drawn from the great store-house of classical
or theological antiquity, but also to know ail that he said in
a jesting or serious manner in his private letters to his
friends. We are here admitted to the contemplation of his
inner life. As he was of a very communicative disposition,
and could not, if the matter were one in which he took a
deep interest, conceal his real sentiments from his friends,
and sometimes even from his enemies, the springs of his
actions, which would otherwise have been hidden, his hopes
and his fears, his faults, his follies, and his virtues, are here
unveiled to us. We seem, as we read the letters, extracts
from which have been given, to have Erasmus once
more before us on the stage of life ; to hear the relation of
his trials and perplexities - 3 to be sitting with him in the
midst of More s happy family ; to hear his altercation with
the custom-house officers ; and to listen to him as in an
emphatic tone, and with lively gestures, he gives us his
views on religious questions, or on those great events which
were shaking to their foundation the kingdoms of the earth.
They are perhaps the most interesting letters that have ever
16
242 THE LETTEBS OP ERASMUS.
been published. They are remarkable for their easy style
and their learning, and form a most interesting biogra
phical sketch of Erasmus.
The wonder is that when he decided on the publication
of his letters, he should have thrown them confusedly
together, without any regard to dates, or the places from
which they are written, which are often incorrectly given.
Many have no date assigned to them. The pleasure of
reading them, is diminished when we find in them the events
of boyhood succeeding those of old age ; when we come to
the end of a particular narration before we have heard the
beginning ; when we see events mingled together without
any regard to chronology, so that it is very difficult to-
obtain from them a connected account of his life. Attempts
have been made to remedy this evil, and to extract order
from confusion, but only with partial success. In a letter
to his friend Rhenanus, which stands first in the Basle
edition of 1540, he gave the following reasons for the
publication of them : *
He said that this matter had caused him much vexation.
As he found that incorrect collections of them had been
made even when he was in Italy, he thought it better to
give an edition of them himself than to leave it to others.
He at the same time protested that it never was his inten
tion to publish them. He added that, as he had spoken
freely in those letters on many important points, he could
not avoid giving offence. The monks, especially, who were-
enemies to literature, condemned them strongly ; and when
the Lutheran contentions began, they were still more cen
sured than before, and accused of favouring Lutheranism,
at a time when it was neither safe to speak, nor safe to keep
silence. Then he said that he would have suppressed them,
but that Froben would not give his consent. He even de-
* Op. torn. iii. p. 1, edit. Bas.
ERASMUS DISLIKED BY THE REFORMERS. 243
sired Khenanus to pay Froben his expenses, and to with
draw the copies. He afterwards quoted the lines of Horace
having reference to the danger of the publication of an
account of contemporary events :
" Periculosse plenum opus aleae
Tractas, et incedis per ignes
Suppositos cineri doloso."*
Soon after this time Erasmus began to be an object of
dislike and suspicion to Luther and his associates. The
more violent among them were very angry with him be
cause he seemed to them to be continually endeavouring to
reconcile what they considered to be irreconcilable ; because
he was continually advancing half-way to meet them, and
afterwards retiring towards the camp of their foes. The
fate which had befallen Luther had only confirmed Erasmus
in his determination not to compromise his safety, or to in
jure his prospects in life, by openly making common cause
with him. Luther had just stood at Worms before one of the
most august tribunals which had ever been summoned to
sit in judgment on human offenders. He had, indeed, gone
forth unscathed from that regal assembly, after having de
clared his determination not to retract one of his opinions.
His departure was, however, immediately followed by a
sentence directing the seizure of himself and his adherents
after his safe conduct had expired. Afterwards his friend,
the Elector, apprehensive of the consequences, directed him
to be carried off and concealed in the castle of Wartburg,
which is buried in the gloomy recesses of the forests of
Thuringia. Erasmus hereupon wrote a letter to his friend
Jodocus Jonas, a Lutheran, in which, after having deplored
the lot of Luther and his associates, and ascribed it to their
want of moderation, he derived from it an argument for the
course which he still intended to pursue. He said, " If
*Hor. lib. ii.carm. 1.1. 68.
162
244 TIME-SERVING RECOMMENDED BY ERASMUS.
our rulers require unreasonable things, we must submit,
lest worse tilings ensue. If the present age cannot receive
the whole Gospel of Jesus Christ, it is something to preach
it in part, and as far as possible. Above all things we
should avoid a schism, which is dangerous to all good men.
There is a certain pious craft, and innocent time-serving,
to which, however, we must have recourse, so as not to be
tray the cause of religion."* But if Luther and his fol
lowers had been moderate, and had spoken in the winning
accents of conciliation, they would have been equally un
successful in influencing the Court of Rome, for it was op
posed to their doctrine ; and if, apprehensive of a worse
state of things, they had submitted to arbitrary will, had
been time-serving, and had preached the Gospel in part,
they must have run into error, and assented to falsehood ;
the light just kindled would have been extinguished ; and
Europe would have crouched beneath the iron yoke of the
oppressor. While, however, we deplore his infirmity of
purpose, we think that much may be said to excuse or ex
tenuate the conduct of Erasmus ; and we cannot fail to
sympathize with one who thus wrote to Bilibald Pirck-
heimer : " We see our weakness, or rather our misery.
We see an age abounding in monsters and prodigies, so that
I know not what part to take ; only this I know, that my
conscience has confidence before the Lord Jesus Christ, who
is my Judge. Those who are the Pope s agents draw the
chains of ancient tyranny very close. They seem disposed
rather to add to than to diminish our burdens. On the
other hand they who in the name of Luther profess to de
fend evangelical liberty, act in a spirit which I do not under
stand ; at least, many persons join them whom I should
not like for coadjutors if I were concerned in the matter.
They who are of a licentious temper find occasion to indulge
* Op.^toin. iii. p. 550, edit. Bas.
ERASMUS LIBELLED. 245
it from the Lutheran writings. . . . The authority of Bulls is
weighty, the ordinances of the Emperor still more so, but
will they change the heart ?"*
We can easily imagine that language like this, addressed
to leading members of the Lutheran party and to others,
would not lessen the feelings of exasperation with which
they regarded him. They had hoped that they should pre
vent him from aiding their opponents in fighting their bat
tles, and that his powerful arm might assist them in mowing
down, like the bearded grain, the hosts confederate against
them. But hitherto, as I have said, they had been dis
appointed in their expectations. Irritated by his conduct,
they began to libel him as an apostate, as a man who might
be hired for a morsel of bread for any purpose, and who
was ever ready to pay court to Popes, Bishops, and Cardinals,
in order that he might accomplish his own selfish and
worldly purposes. We cannot wonder that a man who had
hitherto heard only the language of commendation and
flattery, and that, too, from the highest of this world s
potentates, should have been inflamed with anger when he
heard the opprobrious epithets now applied to him. Ac
cordingly he soon ceased any longer to be on good terms
with the Lutherans, and wrote very bitterly against them.
" They were men of a seditious mind ; some of them
feared neither God nor man, insomuch that Luther and
Melancthon judged it necessary to write against them."
" In the Lutheran party are persons who are influenced by a
spirit widely different from that of the Gospel." This hos
tility was at first confined within the limits of epistolary
correspondence. At length the two parties came to open
warfare. The quarrel between Hutten and Erasmus will
serve to show the unhappy spirit with which they were
animated.
* Op. torn. iii. p. 707, edit. Lugd.
246 ULEICH VON HUTTEN.
Ulrich von Hutten was of an ancient family in Franconia,
a knight of the German Empire, a soldier, brave in war, but
much given to personal quarrels. He had some good quali
ties, among which may be mentioned especially a profound
contempt for the religion of the monks and Schoolmen,
whom he constantly assailed with his pen, and attacked with
satire and invective. He was a dauntless and turbulent
man, who delighted on every opportunity to gird on his
sword and to plunge into the thick of the battle. His moral
character was not blameless. He was in the early part of
his life at Cologne, where he studied the modern languages
and poetry. There was a time when Erasmus described
him as " the most eloquent of knights, the most bellicose
of orators, of a nature the most frank and open, deserving
the love of all good men."
Hutten has been ascertained to be the author of a re
markable work, called, " The Letters of Obscure Men,"
which, on their first appearance, caused an astonishing sen
sation. " More," says a recent writer, " was effected by
satire, which, like a thunderbolt out of a fair sky, came
clown unexpectedly and crushingiy on the bands of the
lovers of darkness, and completed their moral death in
Europe, than by all the speculative controversial writings,
and all the decrees of the powerful. Such were the far-
famed Letters of Obscure Men. "*
Erasmus taught Hutten and others the power of this
terrible weapon. The letters purport to be written to Ortu-
inus Gratius, the head of the theological faculty in Cologne,
by his former pupils. They are purposely written in exe
crable Latin, and contain the grossest blunders. The most
absurd arguments are advanced in them for ignorance and
darkness, and even for the grossest immorality. Erasmus
appears in them in such a manner as to show his bitter hatred
* Munch. Preface to "Epistolas Obscurorum Virorum."
ULEICH VON HUTTEN. 247
.of the monks. They had a rapid sale throughout Europe.
Hutten published other works. Having pointed his shafts
during a visit to Rome, he directed them against her from
the Court of the Archbishop of Maintz. Compelled by this
publication to depart from his present home, he repaired to
the Court of the Emperor Charles V.; but on finding that
the Pope had directed the latter to seize him, and send him
to Rome, he took refuge in the castle of Ebernburg, where
Francis of Sickingen offered a home to all who had pro
voked the vengeance of the Head of the Church. Here he
composed those remarkable works, the perusal of which had
the effect of confirming all orders of the people in their de
termination to break the bonds of Rome, and to contend
earnestly for the blessings of liberty and independence.
Sickingen has been described as the mirror of chivalry.
He was judged worthy by his contemporaries even to wear
the imperial crown. He was the last of that race of knights
whose swords were ever starting from their scabbards to
smite asunder the chains of the oppressor. But unlike his
mail-clad ancestors, he was a votary of the Muses. Even
amid the din of warfare, he would find time to devote him
self to the peaceful pursuits of literature and science.
Hutten, during his residence in Ebernburg, instructed
him in those truths which it was the object of Luther to
propagate through Europe. He now determined to promote
in his own way the cause of the Reformation ; to aid Hutten,
by force of arms, in the realization of a vision of a golden
age, continually floating before him, of which he had origi
nally intended Charles V. to be the hero ; to make Germany,
like Juda3a of old, the centre from which a Christian consti
tution and a Christian spirit were to go forth through the
length and breadth of the habitable world. In the prose
cution of this object, he made an unsuccessful attack on the
Archbishop of Treves and other potentates. In the follow-
243 ETJTTEN AT BASLE.
ing spring, he was besieged by them in his castle of Land-
stein. The modern artillery soon battered down the time-
worn walls and the venerable towers of a feudal structure,
round which its echoes* had never before rolled. Chivalry,
in its death-pangs, fought its last battle in defence of the
[Reformation. Sickingen was mortally wounded, and the
bodies of his feudal retainers were buried beneath the ruins
of the castle.
Hutten, finding that all his hopes of moral and political
regeneration, according to his own ideas, were buried in the
grave of his heroic friend, determined to withdraw, for a
time at least, from the world s high stage. Sick in body,
and sick in soul, an outlaw, under the ban of the Pope and
the Empire, he arrived at Basle, where he immediately
sought an interview with Erasmus. He had written in a
tone of banter to him in 1520, had treated him as an
apostate, and had endeavoured to induce him to stand in
the front of the battle with the Church of Rome.* No two
natures could be conceived to be more opposed to each
other than those of Erasmus and Hutten. The one was
bold, rough, and disputatious,, ready to strike down every
one who stood in his path, ready to do and dare anything
to advance the cause of the Reformation ; the other was
timid and irresolute, a man of polished and gentle manners,
who was ready to sacrifice everything rather than lose his
place in the good opinion of the world, and who had a
religious horror of controversy. He says of himself that,
by a kind of natural instinct, he " so abhorred all sorts of
quarrels, that, if he had a large estate to defend at law, he
would sooner lose it than litigate it."t As their principles
of action were thus totally different, it could not be
supposed that they could be friends. We need not be
* Dr. Strauss s Life of Hutten.
f Jortin s " Life/ 1 vol. i. p. 315.
HTJTTEN" EXASPERATED AGAINST ERASMUS. 249
surprised, therefore, to hear that Erasmus determined if
possible not to see him, and that he sent a young man
named Eppendorf with a message to the effect that he
would rather not do so. The truth was, that as Hutten
had made himself obnoxious to the Pope and the ruling
powers, he was, with his usual timidity, afraid that he
should compromise himself with them, if he held the least
intercourse with him.
On hearing a few clays afterwards from Eppendorf
that Hutten was not offended at his refusal, but wished, as
he thought, to have some conversation with him, Erasmus
told him to say that he would call on him if he could
only bear the heat of his stove ; but that if Hutten could
bear the cold of his room, he would see him. at his own
house, and was ready to talk to him till he was tired.
Eppendorf proved a false friend. He never delivered this
message, and did his best to exasperate Hutten against
Erasmus. During his stay they never met. After a short
time he was requested by the magistracy of Basle to leave
the city.
Hutten withdrew, meditating a horrible revenge. His
anger was increased by the publication of a letter soon
afterwards from Erasmus, which, as he did not know what
had passed between him and Eppendorf, appeared to him
to give an incorrect account of the circumstances connected
with the proposed interview, and which led him to the con
clusion that he intended to abandon the cause of the
Reformation. The friends of Erasmus, hearing that Hutten
intended to publish a book against him, endeavoured to
dissuade him from his purpose ; and Erasmus himself wrote
a letter to him, stating his reasons for declining to see him.
But Hutten would not listen to persuasion. A violent book
soon issued from the press, in which he brought many charges
against him, the most serious of which were that he had
250 " SPONGIA " OF ERASMUS.
ceased to advocate the Reformation, and that he had been
guilty of a base subserviency to the Court of Rome. He
expressed his belief that, in taking this course, he had been
influenced by the love of fame, by bribes, and by the fear of
persecution.
Erasmus soon answered him in a tract called " Spongia,"
which he wrote in six days, full of bitter invective and
terrible satire, designed to wipe off the splashes which he
had received from him.* I wish that we could forget
that he had published a work, in which, by reviling him, he
has shown a disregard of one of the plainest precepts of the
Gospel. Having disposed of the minor charges against
himself, and having given his own version of his reasons for
declining to see him, he vindicated himself from the most
serious, that he had abandoned the cause of the Reformation.
He stated that he had never pledged himself to accept what
Luther had written, or would write hereafter ; that he had
never, as Hutten asserted, given up all his other studies to
attack him that he had never approved of the tyrannj^,
rapacity, and vices of the Court of Rome ; that he had
strongly condemned the sale of indulgences; that his
opinion about ecclesiastics was evident from many passages
in his works ; that it was utterly untrue that he was pre
paring to join the victorious party ; and that he only
wanted leisure to do good according to his opportunities
and abilities. He also gave his own view of the Papal
Supremacy, to which I have already called the attention of
my readers ; and vindicated himself from the charge of
cowardice, saying that he had no mind to die for Luther s
paradoxes, and using other words, on which I shall have
observations to make in a future chapter. We find also, in
this work, a defence of himself from the charge of vain
glory, saying that if it had been true, he would have
* Op. torn. x. p. 1631, edit. Lugd.
DEATH OF HUTTEK 251
accepted the splendid offers which had been made to him.
That this defence was insufficient, will appear plainly here
after. He concluded with saying that he regretted this
controversy, because he was anxious to turn away his
thoughts from the tumult and contentions of earth, and to
prepare for the strict and solemn account which he should
have to render when he stood before the Judgment-Seat of
Christ.
Hutten never saw this work. Soon afterwards, the
career of one of the greatest geniuses of modern times, who
had fought resolutely against superstition, but often not in
a Christian spirit, nor with weapons drawn from the armoury
of heaven, came to a termination. Hutten died unnoticed
at the end of August, 1523, and was buried in an obscure
grave in the island of Ufnau on the lake of Zurich. Eras
mus was blamed for having published his " Spongia " after
Hutten s death ; but the truth is that he was not aware of
it for two months after its publication. I wish that I
could acquit him of the meanness of having made a violent
attack upon Hutten on account of his vice?, shortly after
his death, in a letter which he knew would be read every
where, while he took credit to himself for not having done
so in his " Spongia." The conduct and treatise of Hutten
were certainly very reprehensible. When we think of the
last days of his life, we cannot fail to regret that he should
have cast a shadow over them by assisting in widening,
through this unseemly attack on Erasmus, the breach be
tween him and the Reformers.
Luther was very much grieved at the treatment which
Erasmus had received from Hutten. He saw that he and
other violent men of his party were doing their utmost to
alienate him from the Iteibrmation. He was convinced that
they wanted to compel him to do a work to which he was
altogether unequal. We quite subscribe to his opinion on
252 ERASMUS NOT QUALIFIED FOR ROUGH WORK.
that matter. It would have been better if no attempt had
been made to drag forth Erasmus as a gladiator into the
theological arena. He was not qualified to do the rough
work of the Reformation. When Luther s work had begun,
the work of Erasmus may be said to have come to an end.
He was, as we have seen, a good pioneer. " Erasmus,"
said Luther, " is admirable in pointing out errors, but he
knows not how to teach the truth." The reason assigned
for the persistent efforts made to enlist his energies in the
cause of the Eeformers was the apprehension that he would
be induced by the urgent entreaties of the Romanists, which
I shall describe presently, to come forward and write a
powerful work in defence of their dogmas. Perhaps that
fear was natural. But still, as we shall see presently, the
language addressed to him caused the very evil which it
was designed to prevent, and was the means of driving him
into the camp of their opponents. If Erasmus had been
allowed to remain in a position of dignified repose, and
had never mingled in the fray, in all probability his peace
of mind would not have been interrupted ; he would not
have receded in his later clays from the ground which he
occupied in the early part of his life and his name would
have descended with scarcely a stain upon it to succeeding
generations.
The following letter of Luther to him, written in April,
1524, fully expresses these views and apprehensions.* It
seems to me far too full of contemptuous and irritating ex
pressions ; and in some respects Erasmus answer contrasts
well with it. He begins in the Apostolical manner.
" Grace and peace to you from the Lord Jesus."
"I shall not complain of you," he says, "for having
behaved yourself as a man estranged from us, to keep fair
* This is mainly Milner s version a little altered. Milner s
"Church History," vol. v. p. 584.
LUTHER S LETTER. 253
with the Papists, my enemies. Xor was I much offended,
that in your printed books, to gain their favour, or to soften
their rage, you censured us with too much acrimony. We
saw that the Lord had not given you the discernment, the
courage, and the resolution to join with us, and freely and
confidently to oppose those monsters ; and, therefore, we
would not exact from you that which surpasses your strength
and capacity. We have even borne with your weakness,
and honoured that portion of the gift of God which is in
you ; for the whole world must own with gratitude, that
through you letters reign and flourish, and that we are
enabled to read the Sacred Scriptures in their originals. I
never wished that, forsaking or neglecting your own proper
talents, you should enter into our camp. You might indeed
have aided us not a little by your wit and eloquence ; but
since you have not the disposition and the courage for it,
it is safer for you to serve the Lord in your own way.
Only we feared lest our adversaries should entice you to
write against us, and necessity should constrain us to oppose
you to your face. We have held back some persons amongst
us, who were disposed and prepared to attack you ; and I
could have wished that the complaint of Hutten had never
been published, and still more that your " Spongia," in
answer to it, had never come forth ; by which, you may at
present, if I mistake not, see and feel how easy it is to say
fine things about the duty of modesty and moderation, and
to accuse Luther of wanting them ; and how difficult, and
even impossible, it is to be really modest and moderate
without a special gift of the Holy Ghost. Believe me, or
believe me not, Jesus Christ is my witness, that I am con
cerned as well as you, that the resentment and hatred of so
many eminent persons have been excited against you. I
must suppose that this is a matter which gives you no small
uneasiness ; for this is a trial too great for mere human
254 LUTHER S LETTER.
virtue like your own. To speak freely, there are persons
amongst us who have this weakness about them, that they
cannot bear, as they ought, your bitterness and dissimula
tion, which you want to pass off for prudence and modesty.
They have cause for resentment ; and yet would not be
offended if they possessed greater magnanimity. Hitherto,
though you have provoked me, I have restrained myself;
and I promised my friends, in letters which you have seen,
that I would continue to do so, unless you should com&
forward openly against us. For although you think not
with us, and many pious doctrines are condemned by you,
through irreligion or dissimulation, or treated in a sceptical
manner, yet I neither can nor will ascribe a stubborn
perverseness to you. What can I do now ? Things are
exasperated on both sides ; and I could wish, if I might be
allowed to act the part of a mediator, that they would
cease to assail you with so much animosity, and suffer your
old age to rest in peace in the Lord ; and thus they would
conduct themselves, in my opinion, if they either considered
your weakness, or the magnitude of the controverted cause,
which has long been beyond your capacity. They should
be the more inclined to show moderation to you, because
our affairs are so far advanced that our cause is in no
danger, although even Erasmus should attack it with all his
might, with all his acute points and strictures. On the
other hand, my dear Erasmus, if you duly reflect on your
own weakness, you will abstain from those sharp and
spiteful figures of rhetoric ; and if you cannot, or will not,
defend our sentiments, you will let them alone, and treat
of subjects which are better suited to you. Our friends, even
you yourself must own, have some reason to be out of
humour at being lashed by you, because human infirmity
thinks of the authority and reputation of Erasmus. Indeed,
there is much difference between him and the rest of the
ERASMUS ANSWEE. ZOO
Papists. He alone is a more formidable adversary than all
of them joined together.
"My prayer is that the Lord may give you a spirit
worthy of your great reputation ; but if this be not granted,
I iritreat you, if you cannot help, to remain, at -least, a
spectator of our severe conflict, and not to join our ad
versaries ; and, in particular, not to write tracts against us ;
on which condition I will not publish against you."
Erasmus sent the following brief answer to Luther : " I
fear that Satan may delude you ; at least I doubt the truth
of your doctrines ; and I would never profess what I do not
believe, much less what I have not attained. Besides, I
dread the ruin of literature. I have only endeavoured to
remove the idea that there is a perfect understanding
between you and me, and that all your doctrines are to be
found in my books, Whatever you may write against me
gives me no great concern. Perhaps Erasmus, by writing
against you, may do more good to the cause of the Gospel
than some foolish scribblers of your own party, who will-
not suffer a man to be a quiet spectator of these conten
tions the tragical issue of which I dread." 7 1
During this time every effort had been exerted to induce
Erasmus to oppose the Reformers. All, to a man, fixed
their eyes upon him, as the only person at all qualified to-
retrieve the fallen fortunes of Romanism. Popes, cardinals,
prelates, kings, princes, united in doing homage to his*
genius. They used every argument, and every entreaty;
they flattered him ; they addressed themselves to his pride,
to his ambition, and to his timidity ; hoping to induce him-
to lend them the aid of his powerful arm in the conflict
with their foes. Pope Adrian, of Utrecht, his old school
fellow at Deventer, who was elected Pope after the death of
* Op. torn. iii. p. 926, edit. Lugii.
256 ERASMUS URGED TO ATTACK LUTHER.
Leo, iii 1522, wrote to him two memorable letters, in one
of which he intreated him, " out of regard to his reputation,
to take up his pen against these novel heresies," telling
him that " God had bestowed on him a great genius, and a
happy turn for writing, and that it was his duty to use his
gifts in defence of the Church." 1
Henry VIII. also strongly urged him to take the field against
Luther. George of Saxony exhorted him to attack Luther
openly j or, as he said, there would be a general outcry
against him, as one who had neglected his duty, and cared
neither for the dignity of the Church nor the purity of the
Gospel. t Tonstall, the bigoted Bishop of London, thus
wrote to him: "By the sufferings and blood of Christ, by the
glory which you hope for in heaven, I exhort and conjure you,
Erasmus, nay, the Church intreats and conjures you, to en
counter this many-headed monster. "J Erasmus for a long
time withstood these repeated solicitations. He did, indeed,
in compliance with one request of Adrian, send to him the
secret advice for the restoration of peace in the Church,
which he had promised in a previous letter. He recom
mended that " some concessions should be made; that the
causes of the evils should be investigated ; that the licentious
ness of the press should be restrained ; that to settle these
points, there should be called together, from different nations,
men of integrity and ability, whose opinion " leaving
off abruptly in the middle of a sentence, as if he were afraid
that he was offering to Adrian and his Court unacceptable ad
vice. This fear proved to have been well-founded, for the Pope
expressed his displeasure at it, and his enemies at Borne, in
consequence of it, laboured for his ruin. But he still turned
a deaf ear to Adrian s second request, that he would write
* Op. torn. iii. p. 735, edit. Lugd. t Ibid. p. 800.
Ibid. p. 771. Ibid. p. 580, edit. Bas.
HIS DETERMINATION TO "WRITE AGAINST LUTHER. 257
against Luther, and was proof against the flattery, the ex
hortations, and the remonstrances addressed to him by
others. Probably all those reasons for declining the contest
weighed with him, which have been already mentioned. Yet
he had motives for plunging into the thick of the battle.
His self-love, his besetting sin, had been wounded. People
began to say that he was unequal to the conflict with this
mighty giant. A monk now occupied that throne to which
he himself had been raised by the unanimous consent of
Christendom. He would have to hide his diminished head
behind the broad effulgence of this newly risen luminary.
He was desirous of establishing his superiority to Luther.
Probably, if he had not before made up his mind to oppose
him, Luther s letter at length induced him to do so.
Then the cup of his indignation was full to the very brim.
He gave a promise that he would declare himself in a public
manner against the Reformation. He determined to un
sheathe his sword, and to endeavour to stay the triumphant
march of his adversary.
Erasmus, however, was so embarrassed by his past career,
that he found it very difficult to come forward as the-
champion of Romanism. This had been another reason,
hitherto, for declining to write against the Reformers. He had
condemned, in the strongest terms, the corruptions of the
Church of Rome, and many of her doctrines. He could not
conscientiously aid the Pope in riveting on the limbs of the
inhabitants of Europe those manacles from which he had
laboured to deliver them. Accordingly he avoided those
questions of indulgences, the invocation of the Saints,
pilgrimages, and purgator}^ on which he had formerly
expressed a decided opinion, and wrote an elaborate treatise
called "Diatribe," on the great question of free-will, on which
he really differed from Luther.* Of this work he was
*De libero arbitrio Aiarpi/3//. Op. torn. ix. p. 997, edit. Bas.
17
258 HIS TEEATISE OK FREE-WILL.
thinking in 1523, for he wrote to King Henry VIII. in the
September of that year, " I am meditating something
against the novel doctrines, but I dare not publish it before
I leave Germany, lest I should fall a victim before I appear
in the contest;"* but he did not publish it till the autumn
of 1524. He sent a part of it to Henry VIII. for his
approbation. He sent copies also to Wolsey, Warham, and
others.
This is one of those great questions on which the mind,
" in wandering mazes lost," often finds no rest for the sole
of its weary feet. The object of Erasmus was to show that
a man can either apply himself to those things which con
cern his salvation, or turn away from them. But he makes
statements which are inconsistent with this view of the
matter. He pronounces as "moderately probable," the
opinion that "a man can neither begin, nor carry on, nor
finish anything without Divine grace ;" and again he says,
"that there is no denying that the Divine operation must
concur in the production of every action, and for this
reason, because every action implies a real existence of
something, and even of something good." He does not
express his thoughts plainly. He states in fact one thing,
and proves another. The doctrine of Luther, which
Erasmus condemned, is well stated in the Tenth Article of
the Church of England, "Of Free-will." " The condition
of man after the fall of Adam is such, that he cannot turn
and prepare himself, by his own natural strength and good
works, to faith, and calling upon God : Wherefore we have
no power to do good works pleasant and acceptable to God,
without the grace of God by Christ preventing us, that we
may have a good will, and working with us, when we have
that good will."
His letters, written at this time, show that he published
* Op. torn. iii. p. 773, edit. Lugd.
THE TREATISE PUBLISHED UNWILLINGLY. 259
the "Diatribe on the Freedom of the Will," very un
willingly. He thought, too, that he should not satisfy
many members of the Roman Catholic Church. Of his
unfitness for the work which he had imposed upon himself,
he was well aware, for he said in a letter to Fisher, Bishop
of Rochester, " I know that, in writing on free-will, I was
not in my proper sphere."* And in another letter to a
friend, he goes on to say : " But to confess the truth, we
have lost free-will. There my mind dictated one thing, and
my pen wrote another, "t These words are expressed
incautiously, and are to be understood, not as a proof of his
insincerity, but as intimating, as Jortin has observed, " that
he had written, not against his conscience, but against his
inclination, and so had lost his free-will: for first he has
declared this a hundred times over; and secondly he
certainly picked out a subject on which he really differed
from Luther, and could write against him ex ammo. Any
man of common discernment, who peruses his treatises on
this subject, will see that he writes as he believed. His
acquaintance also with the ancient Greek fathers, and his
professed respect for them, could not fail to make him a
sort of Semipelagian."J We may argue also that his heart
could not have been engaged on this momentous question, or
else we should discover more life and warmth in his treatise.
We may add, too, that he would not, in this case, have
bestowed more attention than usual on the polish of the
style, the elegance of the Latinity, and the balancing of the
periods, while writing on one of the most important sub
jects which can occupy the attention of a rational and im
mortal being.
* Op. torn. iii. p. 815, edit. Lugd.
t Ibid. p. 985.
Jortin s "Life," vol. i. p. 415. For proofs that Erasmus wrote
very sincerely yet unwillingly, see quotations from letters to friends
in Milner s "Church Hist.," vol. v. p. 308.
172
260 LUTHER S TREATISE "DE SERVO ARBITRIO."
Luther was so much occupied that he did not immediately
reply to the " Diatribe." This silence was construed by the
monks and scholastic divines into an admission that the
arguments of Erasmus were unanswerable. " They asked,"
wrote Luther, "with an air of insult, What, has this Mac
cabeus, this sturdy dogmatist, at last found an antagonist
against whom he dares not open his mouth? "*
Erasmus, during this time, was suffering tortures. He
had indeed abstained, in his treatise, from all malice against
Luther, hoping that he should disarm his hostility. But
still he trembled when he thought of the formidable enemy
whom he had provoked. " The die has been cast," he wrote
to Henry VIII., " the book on the freedom of the will has
appeared Believe me, it is a bold deed, if the situ
ation of Germany be considered. I expect to be stoned for
it."t Before long he bitterly repented of what he had done.
"Why should I not have been permitted," he exclaimed,
"to wear out my old age in the garden of the Muses?
Here have I, an old man of sixty, been violently pushed
into the arena, and instead of the lyre, obliged to hold the
cestus and the net !"J
At length, towards the end of 1525, Luther s celebrated
treatise, " De Servo Arbitrio," in reply to Erasmus, made
its appearance. It was received at once with great eager
ness, and had an extraordinary sale. The booksellers of
Wittenberg, Augsburg, and Nurenberg, endeavoured to
surpass one another in the rapidity with which they printed
their numerous editions. I have space only to glance at
one or two statements of doctrine in it which may serve to
* Luther s letter to Erasmus, prefixed to his " Treatise de Servo
Arbitrio." Milner s "Church History," vol. v. p. 272.
t Op. torn. iii. p. 81G, edit. Lugd.
J Ibid. p. 834. He alludes to the net which the Roman gladi
ators tried to throw over their antagonists.
LUTHER S TREATISE "DE SERVO ARBITRIO." 261
give a general idea of the manner in which he conducted
his argument. He says in the letter already referred to,
"I feel most indignant to see such contemptible materials
conveyed in the most precious and ornamental pieces of
eloquence. They are like the sweepings of a stable placed
in golden dishes." Erasmus had asserted that words like
these " Choose ye this day whom ye will serve," implied the
-ability of man in his own natural strength to do the will of
God. Luther, however, asserted that the passages referred
to show him what he ought to do, and his inability to do it,
but do not inform him of the existence of the power
attributed to him ; that when the Word of God says
" Choose," it assumes the assistance of that grace by which
alone men can be enabled to do what God commands ; that
as, when our Lord summoned Lazarus to come forth, He
gave him the power to burst the bands of death, so when
God gives a command to the bond-slaves of sin and Satan
to cast away their fetters, He accompanies it with the will
and the power to come forth from their prison-house into
" the liberty wherewith Christ hath made us free." Luther
considered his own an essential and fundamental doctrine,
for he closes his book with the following words : " You
and only you have seen the true hinge upon which all
turned, and have aimed your blow at the throat. On
this account I can sincerely- thank you." He felt that it
was connected with his doctrine of justification by faith ;
for he says, " Erasmus owns that he defends free-will that
he may obtain some place for merits ; and he is per
petually saying, that where there is no liberty there can
be no merit; and where there is no merit, there is no
room for reward. But St. Paul represents justification as a
perfectly free gift, without any consideration of merit. . . .
Now the advocates of free-will have no other method of
-answering the question, Why does God justify one man and
262 ERASMUS S " EYPERASPISTES."
not another? than by having recourse to the different use
which they suppose men to make of their free-will ; namely,
that in the one case there are exertions, in the other no
exertions ; and that God approves of one man on account
of his exertions, but punishes the other for the neglect of
them Thus our gracious God is described as a
respecter of works, of merits, and of persons." These, then,
are the views which Luther entertained on the great ques
tion of free-will. We find him presenting them in a ner
vous style, and a tone, forming a contrast to the hesitating
utterance of Erasmus, which showed that he considered
himself to have a firm grasp on the truth, and with a deep
conviction that his was the right system to be propounded to
the nations, and that they must be taught to pray that "God
would send them help from the sanctuary, and strengthen
them out of Zion," before they could cast off the ceremonial
formalism and superstition of ages, and obtain the "glorious
liberty of the children of God."
Erasmus had no sooner read Luther s treatise than he
published a very angry reply to it called "Hyperaspistes."*
In the advertisement to the first part he informs us that,
through the management of the Lutherans, he was allowed
only ten days for the composition of it. Luther had in his
treatise paid a high tribute to the genius of his adversary.
Erasmus was, however, so enraged with him that he repre
sents it in his reply as the honey of a poisoned cup, or as
the sting accompanying the embrace of the serpent. He
gave another proof of the excessive irritation of his mind
against him : he wrote a letter to John, the new Elector of
Saxony, in which he asks that Luther may be punished for
charging him with holding epicurean or atheistical opinions.
Soon afterwards he published a second book of the " Hyper-
* Part i. Op. torn. ix. p. 102G, and partii. Op. torn. ix. p. 1097,,
edit. Bas.
263
aspistes," because, as he informs us in it, the moderation of the
" Diatribe " was considered by some as indicating a collusion
with Luther. They said that he had spared his adversary.
People were not wanting, he observed, who spoke of a collusion,
even after the publication of the first part of the " Hyperas-
pistes." This book is more elaborate than the other; it is
also long and wearisome. The attentive reader will often
find great difficulty in ascertaining his exact meaning, and
will not be able to come to a distinct or satisfactory conclu
sion. It is full of invectives. He accuses his adversary
repeatedly of barbarity, impudence, lying, and blasphemy.
He ventures on a prediction. " Luther promises himself a
wonderful reputation with posterity, whereas I am rather
inclined to prophesy that no name under the sun will be
held in greater execration than Luther s." ....
It is painful to find these two great men bringing against
each other these railing accusations, and showing an utter
disregard of one of the plainest precepts of Christianity.
Luther, as his warmest admirers admit, was, throughout his
illustrious career, often betrayed into the use of violent
language. He had indeed told Melancthon that he should
be very moderate in his re^ply ; but he forgot his promise,
and did not attempt to restrain his impetuosity. It is right,
however, to add, that he wrote to Erasmus afterwards a con
ciliatory letter, in which he expressed his deep sorrow for
the infirmity of a violent temper. Erasmus, who had hitherto
been remarkable for his mildness, now lost that moderation
and patience which had hitherto been the secret of his
strength in his conflicts. The treatise on the bondage of
the will was the cause of more open hostilities with the
Lutherans, and quite precluded the possibility of a recon
ciliation between the contending parties.
This controversy was to the end of his days a source of
much vexation to Erasmus. No circumstance, however, in con-
2G4 MELANCTHON S JUDGMENT ON THE CONTROVERSY.
nection with it was more disappointing to him than the avowed
judgment of Melancthon. He knew him at the time of the
publication of the " Novum Instrumentum," for he mentions
him with honour in it. Melancthon was so delighted with
this work that he offered him a tribute of admiration in
Greek verse, dated August 21, 1516, which was sent to him
by Beatus Khenanus. * He seemed at this time likely to
ruin his health by hard work at the University of Tubingen.
A correspondent introduces him as worthy of the love of
" Erasmus the first," because he was likely to prove " Eras
mus the second."t These two distinguished men often
corresponded, and were on very good terms with each other.
Melancthon spoke of Erasmus as " the first to call back
theology to her fountain-head," and as " freer than Luther,
because he had the assistance of real and sacred learning ;"|
and Erasmus on the other hand expressed, in 1518, a hope
that he might long survive himself, predicting that if he did
so, his name would cast the name of Erasmus into the
shade. " Thus, then, we see that he would attach very
great importance to an opinion expressed by Melancthon on
this controversy, especially as he, along with the rest of the
world, had the highest opinion of his talents, learning, and
moderation. He wrote to him soon after the publication of
the "Diatribe." "If Wittenberg," he said, " Lad not been
so far off, I would have gone there for a few days on pur
pose to communicate with you and Luther.|| I have read
all your commonplaces, and I both admire and love more
* Seebohm s "Oxford Reformers," p. 401.
t CEcolampadius Erasmo, torn. iii. p. 235, edit. Lugd.
Seebolim, p. 478.
Eras. (Ecolampadio, torn. iii. p. 307, edit. Lugd.
II Jortiu says, that his whole conduct shows that he had no
thoughts of paying such a visit, and that these were merely compli
ments to pacify Melancthon and Luther. Vol. i. p. 340.
RESIDENCE OF EEASMUS AT BASLE. 2G5
and more your candid and happy genius."* What a disap
pointment it must have been to Erasmus, when he called to
mind the high opinion of him which Melancthon once enter
tained, to receive a few weeks afterwards a letter in which he
told him that he could not with a safe conscience condemn
Luther s sentiments ; and to find him saying, u We are not
at all shocked at your dissertation on free-will, for it would
be mere tyranny to hinder any man from giving his opinion
in the Church of Christ on any points of religion. "t
But this was not his only vexation in connection with
this matter. AYe find that he gave offence to both parties, and
greatly disappointed all the learned in Europe. His greatest
admirers allowed that his "Diatribe" was a feeble production.
Many of the Lutherans were much exasperated, and none
were convinced by his treatise. The Papists revenged them
selves for the failure of their champion by the violence with
which they attacked his former works.
Erasmus had now been residing for some time at Basle.
He came to it from Lou vain in November, 1521. His great
inducement to do so was that he might be near Froben s
printing press. Soon after his arrival he seems to have
suffered greatly from the stone. The wonder is, when we
consider the excruciating nature of these sufferings to which
he often refers, that he should have been able to apply him
self with so much ardour to the prosecution of his studies.
Notwithstanding the opposition of the monks, he had found
Louvain, for some time, a very agreeable place of residence.
The climate was healthy, and the situation delightful.
Another inducement to reside in it was that it was in the
dominions of the Emperor. If he departed from them he
feared that he should lose his pension. He liked Louvain
* Op. torn. iii. p. 830, edit. Lugd. f Ibid. p. 820.
206 WILLIAM FAEEL.
also because he found at it many attached friends. But
they at length became changed and distant, because they
were afraid that he was inflicting injury on the Church.
The Lutherans in the city also followed him with bitter
hostility. He was afraid, too, that the Emperor, if he con
tinued in his dominions, would compel him to write against
Luther. For these reasons he had determined to take his
departure from Louvain.
Among the residents at Basle in 1524 was a young French
Reformer named William Farel, who had sought refuge in that
city from the storm of persecution in France. Farel constantly
evinced his contempt for Erasmus, because he did not show
that boldness and decision of character for which he thought
that every faithful follower of the Saviour ought to be dis
tinguished. Erasmus was very angry because a young un
known Frenchman from Dauphiny dared to revile him, and
to withhold from him that homage which had been willingly
paid to him even by the highest and mightiest of this
world s potentates. Farel said that he was convinced that
Erasmus had not received into his heart the truths of the
Gospel, and was provoked to see him, from fear of the con
sequences, closing the door of his house against the Eeform-
ers. Being anxious to lessen his influence, because he
was afraid that others would be led by the example of this
eminent man to exhibit the same failings for which he had
unhappily rendered himself conspicuous, he openly asserted
that Erasmus wished to extinguish the light of the Gospel, and
said that Froben s wife knew more divinity than he. In
using this language he showed himself much wanting in the
meekness of the Gospel. Erasmus lost no opportunity of
giving vent to his anger. He attacked also all the other
French refugees at Basle. " What," he wrote to Melanc-
thon, " shall we shake off the dominion of Popes and Pre
lates, only to submit to worse tyrants, to scabby madmen,
"WILLIAM FAREL. 267
to the scum of the earth ? . . . for such Trance has
lately sent to us."* Instead of Farel, he often called him
Fallicus, or deceitful ; and says further of him in a letter
to A. Brugnarius, " The Lutherans themselves cannot bear
that fellow; he has been reprimanded several times by
(Ecolampadius and Pelican, but to no purpose."t
He became perfectly furious when he heard that Farel
had called him Balaam. Turning suddenly to him one day
in the presence of others, who were discussing some points
of Christian doctrine, he asked why he had given him that
name 1 Farel,, taken by surprise, hesitated for a moment,
but soon recovering himself told him that it was not he who
had called him so, but Du Blet, a merchant of Lyons, a re
fugee like himself, at Basle. " Eather," said Erasmus, " he
learnt it from you." Then, ashamed of himself for Having
shown anger, he changed the conversation, and said to him,
" Why do you not hold the doctrine of the Invocation of the
Saints ? I suppose because you do not find it in Scripture T
Farel assented. " Show me then," he said, "from Scripture,
that we ought to invoke the Holy Ghost." Farel replied,
" If he be God, we ought to .pray to him." Farel, being
pressed by Erasmus to give a passage from Scripture, while
he told him often at the same time that he agreed with him
on that point, and that he only did so for the sake of argu
ment, cited that from St. John s first Epistle " and these
Three are One." " I answered," says Erasmus, "that the
words, * the Father, the Word, and the Holy Ghost," 1 are in
no ancient manuscript, and have never been cited by those
Fathers who have disputed most against the Arians, as
Athanasius, Cyril, and Hilary." " I left the discussion,"
he continued, " because night was coming on. He could not
prove that the Holy Ghost is God, a truth which may be
* Op. torn. iii. p. 820, edit. Lugd. t Ibid. p. 822.
268 ERASMUS S LETTER TO WARHAM.
proved from St. Paul ; and if lie Lad done so, lie would not
have vanquished me in argument ; for it is no opinion of
mine, that the Saints ought to be invoked."*
Farel does not appear to advantage in this matter. He
was one of those whose disregard of the plainest precepts
of Christianity helped to alienate Erasmus from the Keform-
ation. We must observe, too, that Erasmus, while attack
ing the Reformers, chose to forget that many of his friends
among the Eomanists were the slaves of every vice. I
have given the particulars connected with Farel, because I am
bound to record the painful fact that Erasmus so far forgot
the example of Him, who, " when He was reviled reviled
not again, when He suffered threatened not," as constantly
to pour forth the venom of his heart in the language of
abuse, during the last sad years of his memorable career, and
to censure the morals of the Lutherans, as if the party were
to be blamed for the errors of a few.
I shall now give an extract from a letter of Erasmus to his
friend, Warham, which will be of service in the delineation
of his character. Like that beautiful passage in Macbeth,
This castle hath a pleasant seat ; the air
Nimbly and sweetly recommends itself
Unto our gentle senses.
This guest of summer,
The temple-haunting martlet, does approve,
By his lov d maiisionry, that the heaven s breath
Smells wooingly here ;"
introduced just as the clouds are becoming darker and more
threatening, so this extract may be a relief to the mind,
wearied by the contemplation of the gloomy picture which
has just been presented to the view. Erasmus tells his
patron that he had sent to him the second edition of the
epistles of St. Jerome, wet from the press, so
* Erasmus, in the same letter to A. Brugnarius, says that Farel
had given a different account of what had taken place.
HIS JOKE ABOUT HIS HOESE. 269
that lie could not bind them, containing the dedication
to him, dated July, 1524. He adds that he had twice
received twenty pounds ; thanks the Archbishop for
having augmented his pension : and exclaims, " Cursed be
these wars which decimate us so often ! I thought, how
ever, that pensions did not pay such taxes."
The Archbishop had also sent him a horse, which Erasmus
thus describes to him. " I have received your horse, who is
not very handsome, but a good creature ; for he is free from
all mortal sins, except gluttony and laziness ; and he is en
dued with the qualities of a holy father confessor, being
prudent, modest, humble, chaste, and peaceable, and one
who neither bites nor kicks. I fancy that by the knavery
or mistake of your domestics, I have not the horse intended
for me. I had ordered my servant not to ask for a horse,
nor to accept one, unless some person offered to him a very
good one. of his own accord. And yet I am equally obliged
to you for your kind intention. Indeed I thought to sell
my horses, as I have given up riding."*
Thus we see that he never lost his sportive humour.
Like a flash of light illumining the gloom, it breaks out
amid the clouds which had gathered thickly around him.
Erasmus discovered matter for pleasantry not only in the
gayest but also in the gravest subjects. The " Colloquies," be
gun in 1519, when the first edition, a short work, was pub
lished, and followed by other editions much increased in size,
till 1530, illustrate the truth of this assertion. The edition of
1522, much enlarged, was dedicated to J. Erasmius Froben,
his god-son, the son of Froben, the printer. He composed this
work partly that young persons might have a book to teach
them the Latin language, and religious and moral sentiments,
and partly to cure the world, if possible, of the abuses and
superstitious devotion of which the monks were the authors
* Op. torn. iii. p. 730, edit. Bas.
270 THE "COLLOQUIES."
and abettors. He is not so well known to the public by any
of his works as by his "Colloquies." They abound in wit
and taste, biting satire and elegant criticism, and contain
very good descriptions of life and manners. The speakers
are brought so distinctly before us that we seem to hear
the conversation carried on between them. We see the
seriousness of some of them, the wit of others, and the good
humour of all of them. The " Colloquies " are written in
very elegant Latin, and contain the happiest allusions to pas
sages in the best classical authors.
Scarcely had the " Colloquies " made their appearance,
when a loud outcry was raised against them. Erasmus was
accused of laughing at indulgences, of slighting auricular con
fession, of deriding the eating of fish on fast days, and other
superstitions of a similar description. The Faculty of Theology
at Paris passed a censure on the "Colloquies," in 1526, as
a work in which " the fasts and abstinences of the"Church
are slighted, the sufferings of the Holy Virgin and the
Saints are ridiculed, Virginity is set below Matrimony,
Christians are discouraged from Monkery, and grammatical
is preferred to theological erudition. The perusal of this
wicked book is therefore forbidden to all, especially to the
young, and it is decreed that it be entirely suppressed, if
possible." It was also condemned by the Inquisition, and
the reading of it was prohibited.
I have already referred to the extraordinary sale of this
work, and have also given extracts from it, illustrative of
the manner in which it aided the Reformation. There can
be no doubt that coming as a school-book into the hands of
the rising generation, it prepared them, at the most impor
tant time of life, for casting from them the shackles of su
perstition which had long held their forefathers in bondage.
The best passages and the liveliest strokes of wit are di
rected against the Monks. The " Seraphic Obsequies" is
THE " SERAPHIC OBSEQUIES." 271
the finest of the " Colloquies," and the most exquisite in its
satire. It contains an exposure. of the history of the Order.
The following is an extract from it." The persons who
converse are Theotimus and Philecous. The first name is
derived from Greek words, signifying a worshipper of God,
and the second from words denoting one who is desirous of
hearing, an examiner of reports.
Phil. What is the cause, Theotimus, of this unwonted
gravity of demeanour 1
Theo. I am returning from the funeral of an angel.
Phil. "What do I hear? Do even the angels die?
Theo. No, but their fellows die. Not, however, to keep
you any longer in suspense, you know, I think, Eusebius of
Pelusium, a distinguished and learned man.t
Phil. What, do you mean him who, after lie had been a
prince, became a private man, then an exile, then a little
better than a beggar ; I had almost said something worse.
Theo. You have guessed the person to whom I refer.
Phil. But what has happened to him ?
Theo. He was buried to-day. I am returning from the
funeral.
Phil. That must have been a sad ceremony which has
made you so sad.
Theo. I am afraid that I shall not be able to describe to
you what I saw without tears.
Phil. /am afraid that /shall not be able to hear it with
out laughing. But go on with what you have to say.
Theo. You know that Eusebius has long been in bad
health. His physicians told him that they had done all
they could for him ; that God indeed could do what they
* Op. torn. i. p. 737, edit. Bas.
t The Prince of Carpi, one of the opponents of Erasmus, to whom
reference will afterwards be made, is the person here referred to.
He died at Paris, and was carried to his grave in the Franciscan robe.
272 THE "SERAPHIC OBSEQUIES."
could not do ; but that, as far as they could tell, he could
not live for more than three days.
Phil What happened then ?
Theo. Immediately that distinguished man put upon his
feeble body the robe of the most holy Francis, had his head
shaven, put on the ash-coloured cowl, and a robe of the
same colour, took the knotted girdle, and placed on his
feet the shoes which have glass in them.
Phil. What ? when he was about to die 1
Theo. Yes; nay more : he declared with his dying voice,
that he would fight for Christ according to the rule of St.
Francis, if contrary to the expectation of the physicians he
should recover. Men remarkable for their sanctity were
witnesses to this declaration. This excellent individual
died in this robe at the time foretold by the physicians.
Several members of the fraternity came to the house to
assist at his funeral solemnity.
Phll t I W i 3 h that I had been present at that spectacle.
Theo. You would have shed tears if you had seen the
affection with which the Seraphic brothers washed the
corpse, fitted on that holy robe, placed his hands in the
form of a cross, laid the feet bare, and kissed them when
they had done so, and anointed his face with ointment
according to the direction in the Gospels. Afterwards they
placed the body on the bier ; and, according to the precept
of St. Paul, " Bear ye one another s burdens,"* the brethren
bore their brother on their own shoulders along the road
to the monastery. Here they buried him with solemn
dirges. As that funeral procession was passing, I saw
several unable to refrain from tears, on seeing a man whom
they had before seen clothed in purple and fine linen, now
wearing the robe of the Franciscan, with the girdle around
* Galat. vi. 2.
THE "SERAPHIC OBSEQUIES." 273
him, and having his body placed out in a manner calculated
to excite religious feelings. For the head of the dead man
was turned towards his shoulder, and the hands, as I have
said, were placed crosswise. This was a truly religious
spectacle. Nay, the Seraphic brethren themselves, with
their bent heads, with their downcast looks, and with their
dirges so mournful that I do not think that the shades
below could chant more mournfully, drew tears and sobs
from many of the spectators.
Phil. Had he the five wounds of St. Francis ?
Theo. I cannot say for certain that he had them. Some
livid marks were seen on his hands and feet ; and his robe
had on the left side a little hole in it. But I did not
venture to look too closely, because it is said that in matters
of this kind curiosity has been fatal to many.
Phil. Did you see any one laughing ?
Theo. Yes; but I imagine that they were heretics, of
whom the world- is now full.
Phil. To tell you the truth, Theotimus, I should have
had a difficulty in restraining my laughter, if I had been
present at that spectacle.
Theo. God grant that you may escape the contagion of
their opinions !
Phil. There is no danger, most excellent Theotimus. I
have always from my early childhood had a religious
veneration for St. Francis, a man, in the estimation of the
world, neither learned nor wise, but very dear to God
because he laboured to mortify his worldly affections. All
who tread in his footsteps desire from the bottom of their
heart to die to the world, and to live to Christ. But I
would gladly learn from you what good the robe can do to
a dead man.
. You know that God has told us not " to give that,
18
274 THE "SERAPHIC OBSEQUIES."
which is holy unto the dogs, neither to cast our pearls before
swine." " If, therefore, you ask the question, that you may
find something to laugh at, you shall hear nothing from me;
but if you have a sincere desire to learn, I will gladly tell
you what the members of that order have told me.
Phil. I assure you that I will be an attentive and docile
pupil. . . .
The information asked for is given subsequently. Theo-
timus first lays bare the secrets of the Franciscans. The
conversation is continued in the following manner :
Phil. What must we say of those who have the sacred
robe put on them after their death ? For they do not die
in it.
Theo. If they have been anxious to have it when they
were alive, the will is taken for the deed.
Phil. When I was at Antwerp, I was present with other
relations at the death of a matron. In the room with us
was a Franciscan, a very venerable man. When he saw
her dying, he put one of her arms into the sleeve of his robe,
so that it covered that arm and part of his shoulder. Then
a doubt arose whether the whole of the woman was saved
from hell, or only the part touched by the robe.
Theo. The whole ; just as in baptism, a part of the man
is touched with the water, but the whole becomes Christian.
Phil. No wonder that the evil spirits have so great a
dread of that robe.
Theo. They dread it more than the cross of our Lord.
When Eusebius was being carried to his burial, I and many
others saw crowds of black devils, like flies, jumping
towards the body, but none of them dared to touch it.
Phil. But in the meantime the face, the hands, and the
feet were in danger because they were bare.
Matt. vii. 6.
THE "SERAPHIC OBSEQUIES." 275
Theo. As serpents cannot endure even the shade of the
ash-tree, though it is stretched out to some distance, so the
devils feel the poison of the sacred robe when they are far
off from it.
Phil. I suppose that these bodies do not putrefy ; other
wise worms would have more courage than evil spirits.
Theo. You are probably right.
Phil. How fortunate are the lice which always live in so
holy a robe ! When, however, the robe is carried to the
tomb, what is there to defend the soul ?
Th-eo. The soul carries away with it the influence of that
garment which renders it secure, so that it is said that no
member of that order can go at all to purgatory.
Phil. If you are right, I attach more importance to that
revelation than to the Revelation of St. John ; for it shows
a plain and easy way by which any one may, without
trouble, difficulty, or penitence, escape eternal death, and
pass his whole life in pleasure.
Theo. I quite agree with you.
Phil. I can, therefore, no longer be surprised that many
think highly of the Seraphic fraternity ; but it is a wonder
to me that there are some who are|not afraid to oppose
them.
Theo. Doubtless you refer to those who are delivered
over to a reprobate mind, and are blinded by their own
wickedness.
Phil. Hereafter I shall be more careful; and I will
endeavour to die in the sacred robe. . . .
The dialogue ends in the following manner :
Phil. These people, girt with a cord, and having half-
shoes on their feet, swarm everywhere; but there is scarcely
one of them who follows the precept of our Lord, and the
practice of the Apostles in aiming at perfection.
Theo. I am well aware that wicked men tell everywhere
182
276 ERASMUS S WIT.
scandalous tales of them ; but I have this feeling towards
them, that wherever I see that most holy robe, I believe
myself to be in the presence of an angel of God. I think
also that the house must be a happy one, the threshold of
which is trodden by their feet.
Phil. I trust that Francis will forgive me for having so
long been in error. I thought that their robe was nothing
else but a robe, and that it was not in itself better than the
jacket of a sailor or the coat of a shoemaker, unless it were
recommended by the sanctity of the wearer, just as the
touch of the garment of Christ cured the issue of blood. I
sometimes used to doubt whether the weaver or the tailor
gave virtue to it.
Theo. Undoubtedly, he who gives the form gives the
virtue.
Phil. I shall now live more happily. I shall not tor
ment myself with the fear of hell, or worry myself about
confession or doing penance.
I have given the above as a very good specimen of his
wit and satirical powers. As I have already stated, this
sportive raillery served greatly to lessen the influence which
the monks exercised over the common herd of the people,
and to cure the latter of their attachment to the superstitions
of the Church of Eome. I cannot, however, altogether
commend his use of this weapon. Very often his wit is ill-
timed. Thus writing to Ammonius he says, " I am very
angry with the heretics, because now when winter is coming,
they have increased the price of fuel."* In fact, his wit
often gained the mastery over him, and when he was aiming
a blow at superstition, he inflicted a wound upon religion
itself. I shall have occasion to refer again to this subject
before I come to the conclusion of this work. But I may
* Op. torn. iii. p. 288, edit. Bas.
JOHN REUCHLIN. 277
here observe that if infidels, instead of anxious inquirers
after truth, had abounded in the following age, in all pro
bability the engine which Erasmus employed to batter down
the strongholds of superstition would have recoiled upon
the defenders of the truth as it is in Jesus, and would
have shaken to its foundation the rising fabric of Pro
testantism.
Among the "Colloquies" of Erasmus is one of a different
kind, entitled the " Apotheosis of Capnio," the fanciful
Grsecized name of John Reuchlin. We cannot discover in
it one word of raillery. Reuchlin was unquestionably the
most learned man in Germany of his day. He was the son
of a burgess of Pforzheim. When he was a boy he had,
not only by his musical voice, but also by his winning man
ners, attracted the notice of the Margrave of Baden, and
had been sent by him with his son to the University of
Paris. There he made great progress under John Weissel
in Greek and Hebrew literature. He was also led by him
to see that Scripture condemns purgatory, human satisfaction
for sins, absolution, and many other dogmas, the reception
of which the Roman Catholic Church declares to be indis
pensable to salvation. Afterwards he endeavoured, as Pro
fessor at Tubingen and Heidelberg, to disperse the darkness
then brooding over Germany. Having been sent on an im
portant mission to Rome in 1498, he devoted all his spare
time and money to the study of Hebrew under the learned
Jew, Abdias Sphorm, and to the purchase of Hebrew and
Greek manuscripts, by which he hoped to promote the
great work to which he had determined to consecrate all
his energies. On his return to Wiirtemberg he published
those works which greatly aided the progress of the Reform
ation. He translated some of the Psalms, corrected the
Vulgate, and was the first in Germany to publish a Hebrew
grammar and dictionary. Thus he unclosed the books of
278 EEUCHLIN PERSECUTED BY THE DOMINICANS.
the Old Testament to the astonished and delighted view of
his fellow-countrymen.
Afterwards he became involved in a contest which proved
a prelude to the Eeformation. The Dominicans of Cologne,
urged on by one Pfefferkorn, a Jewish convert, sought to
destroy all works written in the Hebrew language, except
the text of the Old Testament Scriptures. On these works
the Emperor Maximilian asked Eeuchlin to give his opinion.
He was strongly opposed to this wholesale destruction, and
mentioned some which ought to be preserved, because they
contained nothing to justify the pretext for committing
them to the flames, that they were hostile to Christianity.
In consequence of this opinion the books of the Jews, which
had been taken away to be burnt, were restored to them.
The Dominicans immediately revenged themselves upon
Eeuchlin by raising against him a violent persecution. They
threatened him with the Inquisition, and caused a court to
be called at Maintz, at which his writings were adjudged to
the flames as containing many heretical opinions. This
contest became afterwards one between the lovers of light
and the lovers of darkness, between the scholastic friars and
their opponents ; for it was maintained in the course of the
discussion which arose, that not only Jewish books, but all
books not professedly Christian should be placed under ban
and anathema, and should not be used in education. This
contest gave rise to those celebrated " Letters of Obscure-
Men," full, as we have seen, of stinging satire, in which
Hutten held up to ridicule the monkish opponents of
Eeuchlin, inasmuch as he causes them to perpetrate the
greatest blunders, and to give the most absurd reasons,
expressed in very bad Latin, for the continuance of that
darkness which it was the great object of that illustrious
man to scatter, This contest lasted for ten years. Ulti
mately the matter was carried before Leo X., who directed
REUCHLIN HONOURED BY ERASMUS. 279 1
the Bishop of Spires to inquire into it. He declared Keuch-
lin innocent, and condemned the monks to pay the ex
penses of the process which had been instituted against
him.
. Erasmus has been accused of doing little honour to Eeuch-
lin, and of having stood aloof from the contest between him
and the divines of Cologne. In one of the " Letters of
Obscure Men" he is taunted with not having come forward
in defence of him. Erasmus, however, felt that from his ignor
ance of Hebrew he could not with any degree of authority
mingle in the strife between the two parties. Writ
ing to Cardinal Wolsey, in 1518,* he says, "As for me, I
never esteemed the Cabala and Talmud." He commends
Keuchlin in the same letter, adding, " I never conversed with
Eeuchlin except once at Frankfort. We are only on those
terms of civility which usually subsist between men of let
ters ; though, if I had been his intimate friend, I should
have no reason to be ashamed of it." He also urged the
Cardinals St. George and Grimani, in 1515, to use their
utmost influence in aid of the cause of Reuchlin.t He told
them how grieved he was in common with all Germany
that these frivolous proceedings should have been taken,
against one venerable on account of his age and services.
If, however, it were true that he had done him little honour
in his life, it will be admitted that he made him ample
amends after his death, in 1522, in the account of his
apotheosis, or reception into heaven, already referred to,
given by a Franciscan to his friend Brassicanus, who, in his
turn, gives it in conversation to his friend Pompilius. The
following passages, with which I conclude this chapter,
establish the truth of the preceding assertion. " Can you
suppose that we have any reason to lament the death of
* Op. torn. iii. p. 371, edit. Bas. f Ibid. pp. 65 and 70.
280 THE "APOTHEOSIS OF CAPNIO."
such a man? He has had a long life, if that be any
addition to a man s happiness. He has left monuments of his
virtue which can never perish. He has, by his good deeds,
consecrated his name to immortality. Now, released from all
evil, he enjoys heaven, and holds converse with St. Jerome.
.... For the seed which he has sown, he is reaping an
abundant harvest. In the meantime it will be our duty to
cherish his sacred memory ; to embalm his name with our
praises ; and ever and anon to address him with words like
these : holy soul, be propitious to languages ; be pro
pitious to those who cultivate them ; favour the sacred
languages; destroy all wicked tongues infected with the
poison of hell. "
THE KEVOLT OF THE PEASANTS. 281
CHAPTER X.
THE REVOLT OF THE PEASANTS. WORLDLY MOTIVES OF
ERASMUS. HIS INCOME. OPPOSITION TO HIM IN FRANCE.
TREATISE ON MATRIMONY DEDICATED TO QUEEN
CATHERINE, AND OTHER WORKS. (A.D. 15241526.)
IN the year 1525 a rebellion broke out among the peasants
of Germany, which was greatly prejudicial to the cause of
the Reformation. It spread like a mighty conflagration
among the trees of the forest. No sooner do the flames
catch one tree than they advance rapidly, burning up the
beautiful foliage, until at length the forest is involved in
one vast blaze, which illumines with a ruddy glow the
firmament of heaven. This was not in the first instance a
religious war. An examination of the demands of the
peasants will serve to show us that, when it began, it was
only one of those insurrections of the cultivators of the soil
against their feudal lords, of which we often read in the
history of the middle ages. Goaded to madness by their
accumulated wrongs, they had risen simultaneously against
their oppressors. But no sooner had the enthusiast, Munzer,
constituted himself leader of the armed rabble, than the
war assumed a religious character. He pretended that he was
armed with the sword of the Lord and of Gideon, and that
he was commissioned to mow down, like the bearded grain,
282 THE EEVOLT OF THE PEASANTS.
the armies of the Midianites. The motives of the insurgents
were various. Some insisted on an absolute immunity from
all government ; others asserted that their object was to
establish a pure Church in Germany.; many were influenced
merely by the spirit of sedition, and by the desire to obtain
deliverance from the taxes and burdens which pressed so
heavily upon them ; while many perversely misunderstood
Luther s doctrine of religious liberty, and deluded them
selves with the idea that they should obtain deliverance
from the tyranny of their feudal oppressors. The mind
recoils with horror from the contemplation of the atrocities
of the peasants, which were only surpassed by the atrocities
perpetrated in the suppression of the revolt. Erasmus says
that one hundred thousand perished in this war.* The soul
of Luther was much vexed by this rebel] ion. He denounced,
in language so strong, the impiety and madness of these
zealots, that he lost his popularity with the multitude.
This rebellion served to alienate Erasmus still more from
the Reformation. It seemed to him to justify his gloomy
forebodings that the principles of Luther must lead to civil
convulsions, and to give him a reason for that cautious
timidity which induced him to endeavour, by peaceable
means, to remedy the disorders, and to remove the abuses,
of the Roman Catholic Church. We can have no doubt,
indeed, that the Reformation gave that impulse to the
people which led them to seek deliverance from the iron
yoke of bondage. But we are sure that, as Luther asserted,
it served greatly to check their fury, and to preserve the
fabric of the Church and the State from being shattered into
fragments. We must remember, too, that if we argue from
the abuse against the use, we must surrender our most
valuable blessings ; that if the timid policy of Erasmus
had been followed, the Roman Catholic religion would have
* Op. torn. iii. 888, F. 900, edit. Lugd.
WORLDLY MOTIVES OF ERASMUS. 283
retained "its ascendency in Europe and that the Reforma-
tion could not, as I have stated before, have been accom
plished without those convulsions, civil and religious, which
caused the earth to tremble to its centre, and seemed to
many likely to dissolve society into its original elements.
A letter, written at the beginning of the year 1525 to the
learned Reformer, CEcoiampadius, exhibits Erasmus in a very
unfavourable point of view, for it shows the worldly motives
by which he was unhappily influenced." QEcolampadius, in
a preface to his Commentary on the Prophet Isaiah, had
spoken of him as " our great Erasmus." This commenda
tion had given him the greatest offence; for it was, he
thought, calculated to injure him with many of this world s
potentates, whose good opinion he was anxious to possess.
They would come to the conclusion that he held the same
opinions with his eulogist. This letter begins in the following
manner: " I pretend not to pass sentence on you; I leave
that to the Lord, to whom you stand or fall. But I con
sider what do several great men think of you 1 the Emperor,
the Pope, Ferdinand, the King of England, the Bishop of
Rochester, Cardinal Wolsey, and many others, whose
authority it is not safe for m e to despise, and whose favour
it is not prudent for me to disregard. You know very well
that there are some who look upon you Reformers as
heresiarchs and schismatics. Now, what will such persons
say, upon reading in your Preface the words : Our
Great Erasmus V Will not the consequence be that the
dangerous suspicions of powerful princes, or implacable
enemies, who had begun to think a little better of me since
the publication of my Diatribe, will be all revived 1"
We cannot condemn in terms too strong this letter of
Erasmus. If CEcoiampadius had praised him in private, he
would have been delighted ; for he thought very well of him,
* Op. torn. iii. ep. 728, edit. Lugd.
284 CECOLAMPADIUS S VIEWS ON THE LORD S SUPPER.
and was pleased to occupy a high place in his good opinion.
But he fancied that the personages just referred to would be
led to identify him with the Keformers, and would deprive
him of the pensions which he enjoyed from them, and of
their patronage. Thus he thought that he might be re
duced to that state of evangelical poverty of which he speaks
in a subsequent letter. Even Jortin, who was his great ad
mirer, is obliged to admit that " it is a despicable meanness
to be afraid of being commended by those whom we secretly
honour and value, lest we should give oifence to others
whom we esteem not, and lest we should suffer in our
worldly interests." * This subservience to the great has left
a deep stain upon his character.
But though in public Erasmus wished to disavow all con
nection with (Ecolampadius, in his private letters to his
friends he spoke in the highest terms of this eminent Ee-
former. All students of the history of this period are aware
that an angry controversy was at this time raging between
Luther and Zuinglius on the Sacrament of the Lord s Supper.
Luther held that " the glorified body of Christ was to be
found in all parts of the bread." Zuinglius, on the contrary,
held that " the flesh of Christ is of immense utility to us,
for it saves us from perdition ; but in so far as it is eaten
by us, it is of no use to us at all." (Ecolampadius, at length
ashamed of having preached doctrines, the soundness of
which he had begun to suspect, espoused the cause of Zuin
glius. He thus wrote to him from Basle : " That dogma of
the real presence is the fortress and safeguard of their im
piety. As long as they shall keep to that idol none will
be able to vanquish them."t He then entered the lists by
publishing a work on the meaning of our Lord s words,
.. * Jortin, vol. i. p. 370.
t D Aubigne s " Hist, of the Reformation," vol. ii. p. 463.
ERASMUS S VIEWS ON THE LORD S SUPPER. 285
" This is My body." Erasmus, in a letter to P. Barbirius,
highly commends this work, saying, " It is so accurately
written, and contains so many arguments and testimonies,
that it might deceive the very elect."* Again, writing to
his friend Pirckheimer, he says, " The opinion of (Eco-
lampadius would not displease me, if the consent of the
Church did not hinder me from accepting it. For I
discern not what good an invisible substance can do there,
or how it could profit any one if it were discernible."t
Again, writing to the same friend afterwards, in the year
1527, he says, " I never said that this sentiment was the
soundest. It is true that among some friends I went so-
far as to say that I could adopt that sentiment, if the author
ity of the Church had approved it; but Padded, that I could
by no means dissent from the Church. By the Church I
mean the consent of the body of Christian people. For
my part I spoke sincerely ; and I never doubted the truth
of the Eucharist. What weight the authority of the Church
may have with others I know not ; but with me it weighs
so much that I could be of the same opinion with the Arians
and Pelagians, if the Church had supported their doctrines. "J
In a letter afterwards written to Pelican, who spread the
report that he held the same opinions with himself on the
subject of the Eucharist, he very strongly condemns the doc
trines of the Eeformers. " I would rather be torn in pieces
than profess the same opinions as yourself, and I would
rather endure every evil than leave the world with this
sin on my conscience." Language like the above needs
scarcely any comment. These opinions often repeated have
led many Protestants and Roman Catholics to believe that
he was sceptical as to the fundamental truths of Chris
tianity.
* Op. torn. iii. p. 894, ed. Lugd. t Ibid. p. 941.
J Ibid. p. 698, ed. Bas. Ibid . p. 966, ed. Lugd.
286
At this time Erasmus published his "Lingua," a treatise on
the good and bad use of the Tongue, which he dedicated to
Schydlowitz, Chancellor of Poland. It seems from some
passages in it that he formed the plan of it in England.*
This discourse abounds with wit, and with ingenious cen
sures of the vices of the times, particularly those of the
monks. It is full of anecdotes, illustrative of his subject.
All immoderate swearers, liars, talkers, and slanderers, will
find many lessons in this treatise, delivered with much wit,
and in an agreeable manner. I have no space for extracts
from the work, but I must strongly recommend it to my
readers, who, I am sure, will derive pleasure and profit from
the perusal of it.
A short time before the publication of this treatise, Eras
mus had been anxious to secure the payment of the pension
which, as I have said, had been promised to him by the Em
peror Charles V., before he left England in 1513. Hither
to it had been paid, while he resided at Louvain. One
condition was, however, annexed to the payment of that pen
sion, with which he was unwilling to comply, that he should
return to the Low Countries. He pleaded that his debts would
prevent him from doing so. He thus wrote to Carondelet,
Archbishop of Palermo : "I live here (Basle) at a great ex
pense, because of my bad health, and my frequent illnesses,
and I never was a good economist. I have contracted
several debts, so that if my health would, my creditors per
haps would not permit me to depart. ; t We have reason,
however, to believe that his debts were only an excuse for
not going to Brabant. He felt also that if, in compliance
with the urgent request of Charles, he should return, he
would find difficulties in the way of the payment of his pen-
* Op. torn. iv. p. 551, edit. Bas.
t Op. torn. iii. p. 794, ed. Ludg.
HIS INCOME. 287
sion ; for, he said, "the Emperor s Court is ever in a state of
poverty."*
His circumstances were easy when he went to live at
Basle, in 1521, and we have no reason to think that they
had undergone any change since that date. He then de
scribes himself as possessing an annual income of 300 ducats,
exclusive of presents made to him by his patrons. " I
have," he said, " ceased to complain. I have enough to
maintain myself comfortably, and something to spare for an
indigent friend, "t We learn afterwards, from a letter to
the Bishop of Augsburg, that in this estimate were included
his two pensions from England, amounting to 200 florins an
nually, which were diminished to the amount of one-fourth
part, by the merchants who remitted them,, and a pension
which he had in Flanders, from a prebend which he resigned.}
The pension from England was contingent on the life of
the Archbishop ; for, in the same letter he says, "if he should
die, I shall never see a penny more of it." " Thus/ with
the loss of his pension from the Emperor, and of the other
which P. Barbirius had begun to intercept, he writes :
" Erasmus will soon be reduced to a state of evangelical pov
erty j though, by the blessing of God, he is not altogether
as yet in that condition." From a letter written in 1525,
to his friend Goclenius, Professor of Latin at Louvain, it
appears that he was not at all in want of money, for he
made in it a sort of last will and testament. He left to
Goclenius 400 florins of gold, and to other friends various
smaller sums. "As for my plate and jewels," he adds, " I
will soon dispose of them."
Erasmus did not make anything by his works, not with -
* Jortin s " Life," vol. i. p. 480.
t Butler s "Life of Erasmus," p. 138.
Op. torn. iii. p. 1292, edit. Lugd. Ibid. p. 1422.
288 ERASMUS A BAD MANAGER.
standing the enormous sale of them ; for in the profit arising
from it, which could not have been large, as the expenses of
publication, which the printers undertook, were great, it
was considered beneath the dignity of an author to share.
He had unquestionably great expenses. He had to employ
transcribers of his works, and to keep horses for the purpose
of travelling himself from place to place, to consult books
and manuscripts, and to send messengers to collect his pen
sions. He was, however, a bad manager, and extravagant.
One instance of his extravagance we have, in a letter to
Warham, in 1521 : " I think myself," he says, "a sort of
nobleman, for I maintain two horses, who are better fed,
and two servants who are better clad, than their master."*
We can have no doubt that the liberality of his friends
supplied all deficiencies, and that he never had the least
reason to fear that he should become dependent for the
means of support on the precarious charity of strangers.
The reason of his unwillingness to go to Brabant, is given
in the following letter to his friend Pirckheimer : " What
you write is very true," he says, " that Luther promotes
many persons. Luther makes Canons, Bishops, and Cardi
nals, arid enriches others, whether they will or no ; but then
Luther beggars a great many, and me among the rest, to
whom Margaret and the Emperor have promised the pay
ment of my pension, but it is on condition that I return to
my own country. A hard condition ! for Egmond reigns
there, a madman, armed with the instruments of death, who
hates me twice as much as he hates Luther. His colleague
is one Hulst, a sworn enemy to learning. These Inquisitors
first fling men into a dungeon, and then seek for accusations
against them. Of these things the Emperor is ignorant,
and yet it were to be wished that he knew them."t
The truth was that though, as he informs Goclenius in
* Op. torn. iii. p. 645, edit. Lugd. t Ibid. iii. p. 782.
HIS UNWILLINGNESS TO LIVE IN FKANCE. 289
the letter above referred to, he would sooner have gone to
Turkey, than to Basle, if he had known the perfidious
temper of the Germans, yet he knew not where else to go,
for he was justly afraid of every place where the monks had
any influence, because they continued to follow him with
bitter and unrelenting hostility. At all events, in that city,
he was safe from their vengeance. He was unwilling for
the same reason at this time to take up his abode in France.
Francis I. had been for a long time anxious to secure his
assistance in a college, which he wished to establish at Paris,
for the purpose of teaching the learned languages. He was
one of his warmest admirers, and even preferred him to
Buda3us, considered by many at that time to be the most
learned man in Europe. A rivalry had existed for some
time between Erasmus and him, which was justly con
sidered as a contest for the primacy in learning. Posterity
has decided in favour of Erasmus. It has admitted that in
a knowledge of Greek, Budseus rnay have surpassed him ;
but that in general erudition, genius, and taste, Erasmus
was greatly his superior. Budssus informed him in the year
1516, that he was authorized by Francis to offer him a
benefice with an income of a 1000 francs. As his friend,
Cuthbert Tonstall, afterwards Bishop of Durham, was then
at Paris, he consulted him on the offers of the French King.
Tonstall dissuaded him from accepting them. He was a
little afraid even then of the religious animosity with which
he was likely to be assailed at Paris, and he had some dis
trust of the King s constancy. The end of the matter was
that he declined the flattering proposal. The offer of
Francis was constantly renewed, but he was, in the year
1525 and 1520 less likely than ever to accept them, for
reasons which I shall now proceed to explain.
In February, 1525, France was filled with consterna
tion. Francis I. was defeated in the battle of Pavia.
19
290 CAPTIVITY OF FRANCIS I.
After displaying heroic courage, lie surrendered his sword to
Lannoy, the Viceroy of Naples, and was carried off a prisoner
to Madrid. " Nothing whatever is left me," the King wrote
to his mother, " save my honour and my life." The enemies
of the Reformers, who were anxiously watching for an
opportunity of arresting the rapid progress which their
opinions were making in France, determined to extract
material of accusation against them from this heavy
calamity. Acting in the spirit of those who endeavoured to
stifle Christianity in its cradle by representing it as the
cause of those calamities which had descended upon the-
nations, they affirmed that because France had for some
time nurtured heretics in her bosom, God was now pouring
out on a guilty land the vials of His wrath. Their opinion
was that the only way to deliver the King from the captivity
which was to be considered as a judgment from God upon
him on account of his leniency towards the Reformers, and to
save the kingdom from subjection to a foreign yoke, was to un
sheathe against them the sword of persecution, and to mow
them down on the right hand and on the left. Noel Bedier,
or Bedda, as he preferred calling himself, in memory, per
haps, of the venerable Bede, the syndic of the Sorbonne,
and Lecou tuner, chiefly known by his Latin name Sutor, a
doctor of the Sorbonne, and a Carthusian, exerted every
effort to inflame the passions of the nation against the
Reformers. Bedda was one of those whose element is
strife. He delighted in searching out heretics, arid making
them before they existed. The mother of the King, Louise,
who was now regent of the kingdom, was the more willing
to listen to Bedda and Sutor, because she hoped, by the sacri
fice of a few heretics, to propitiate a Pontiff who had the
power of raising Italy against the Emperor, and of compelling
him to deliver Francis from his captivity. The Parliament,
acted on by the impulse which had been given to the nation,
PERSECUTION STIRRED UP BY BEDDA AND SUTOR. 291
issued a commission to certain persons to prosecute those
who were tainted with the doctrines of Luther. The first
person whom they arrested was Briconnet, Bishop of Meaux.
He had assailed the abuses of the Church, and had attacked
the Sorbonne itself. By a shameful retractation, which has
left an indelible stain upon his memory, he saved himself
from the dungeon and the stake. Lefevre, another cele
brated Reformer, only escaped from his persecutors by
becoming an exile from the land of his birth. Berquin, of
whom I shall speak more particularly hereafter, was the
next person apprehended. He had learnt his heresy from
the writings of Erasmus and Luther. Nothing so much
excited the anger of their persecutors as that the Reformers
opposed the doctrine of human merit. " When I see," said
Bedda, " these three men, Lefevre, Erasmus, and Luther,
endued in other respects with so penetrating a genius, yet
united in a conspiracy against meritorious works, and in
favour of resting the whole weight of salvation on faith
alone, I am no longer surprised that thousands of men, se
duced by these doctrines, have learned to say: Why should
I fast, and martyrize my body V Let us banish from France
this odious doctrine of grace. There is a dismal deception of
the devil in that neglect of merits."*
But the eager desire of Bedda and his colleagues for
victims still remained unsatisfied. The Bishop of Meaux
had apostatized Lefevre had gone into exile, and Berquin
might, through the intercession of Margaret, the sister of
the King, yet be delivered from his persecutors. They,
therefore, resolved to attempt a higher aim. They would
attack Erasmus, whom they considered as the great arch-
heretic. If they could induce the Sorbonne to censure his
writings, they might hope to arrest the onward march of
* D Aubigno s "Hist, of the Reformation," vol. ii. p. 622.
192
292 ERASMUS S CONTEST WITH SUTOR.
the Eeformation in France. Sutor began the attack by a
publication in which he brought against his opponents all
the unjust charges, and heaped upon them all the abusive
epithets which malice could invent, or the vocabulary of
vituperation supply. Erasmus answered him in an "Apo
logy" dedicated to Joannes Selva.-* From a passage in the
dedication it appears to have been written when Francis I.
was made prisoner in 1525. The contest was like one be
tween a giant and a pygmy. Sutor was completely crushed.
Erasmus represents him as the greatest fool with whom
he was ever called upon to contend. In this " Apology "
he says, " I have learnt something from Lee ; Latomus has
brought before me some things which deserve careful con
sideration ; Stunica has taught me much, though foreign to
the subject with which he was occupied. From this very
wordy book of Sutor s, I do not see what can be learnt
except mad calumnies. Speaking of matters which he does
not understand, he reminds one," said Erasmus, " of the
old proverb: Ne sutor ultra crepidam. Let the cobbler
keep to his last. "
Bedda immediately rushed to raise Sutor from the ground
to which, in the unequal wrestling match, he had been
mercilessly Hung by his powerful antagonist. He stood
forward in front of him and challenged Erasmus to a mortal
combat. He exerted his malice in collecting various
passages from the writings of Erasmus which seemed to
favour the Lutherans, and wresting them altogether from
their connection with the context, translated them into
French, and published them in a volume, which he circulated
through France. Erasmus immediately accepted his chal
lenge, and published his defence.t On finding that Bedda
returned to the charge in a work professing to expose the
* Op. torn. ix. p. 742, edit. Lugd. t Ibid. p. 453.
HIS ATTACK ON BEDDA. 293
errors of Faber and Erasmus, the latter wrote a most
elaborate reply to him.* According to his calculation,
Bedda, on a very moderate computation, had been guilty of
a hundred and eighty-one lies, three hundred and ten
calumnies, and forty-seven blasphemies. " If the Church,"
said he, " is not supported by a better Atlas, it is high time
to write its epitaph. I have nothing in common with the
sentiments of Luther ; but it cannot be denied that the
doctrine of Luther approaches more nearly to the true
spirit of Christianity than the theology of Bedda. For
what is it that Bedda has in view? It is this, to make
men set a great esteem on scholastic quibbles, vain sub-
tilties, human ordinances, the worshipping of images,
the differences of meats and of garbs, their own works,
and a holy week spent in acts of penance. As to
true evangelical piety, he says nothing at all about it,
or he talks so coldly that any one may see that what he
says proceeds not from the heart. We ought, he says, to
place our confidence in God, and principally in our own
good works.
"Nothing can be so well expressed that this man will not
wrest and distort it. ... What is more venerable and holy
than the Lord s Prayer ? If you will give me leave, I will
play the Bedda upon it. Our Father. . . . This smells
of Arianism, as if the Father alone were to be invoked as
the only true God ; for here is no mention made of the
Son and the Holy Ghost. OUR FATHER dangerous
words ! since Christians may imagine that they are the
children of God by nature, even as Jesus Christ. It
should have been, Our Father by adoption, and not by
nature. . . . "
Erasmus published another reply to some remarks of
* "Desiderii Erasmi Supputatio Errorum in Censuris Beddae. *
Op. torn. ix. p. 515, edit. Lugd.
294 HIS LETTER OF REMONSTRANCE TO THE SORBONNE.
Bedda, from which it appears that the Syndic was stung to
the quick by the manner in which the former attacked
him.
But these "Apologies" proved of no avail. Eoused by the
vehement accusations of the fanatical Bedda and his asso
ciates, the Sorbonne prepared a grave censure for the illus
trious writer. Erasmus was overwhelmed with consterna
tion. His attempt to conciliate both parties had altogether
failed of the wished-for success. Roman Catholics, as well
as Protestants, were now assailing him with merciless ran
cour. He addressed a letter of vehement remonstrance to
the Sorbonne.* "I hoped," he writes, " that if I had been
beaten down in my conflict with the Lutheran faction, I
should have found with you a quiet haven and a safe refuge.
But now you send forth bitterer attacks upon me than have
ever been written by any of your members against Luther.
Meanwhile, in resolving not to depart from the Church, I,
who was once very popular with the Germans, have made
myself most hateful to them. I have provoked Luther,
like a venomous beast, to attack me. I have for some time
been obliged to submit to the murmurs, the threats, the re
proaches, the defamatory and furious libels of the whole
faction, which is more powerful than any one would believe,
and increases in strength daily. I engaged in a work to
which my strength was unequal, but I obeyed the Pope,
the Emperor, and the Princes. And as if it were not enough
to be attacked by the Lutherans, I have been obliged to
contend with the Zuinglians, who, on the question of the
Eucharist, differ from them While I was thus en
gaged according to my ability in a matter in which your
learning ought to have aided me, the Sutors and the Beddas
attack me from behind. If you shall allow such books to
* Jortin, vol. ii. p. 492.
THE SALE OF BEDDA S BOOK PROHIBITED. 295
be printed as these men write against me, and if mine
should be prohibited, certainly they will have gained the
victory. This, however, is not to refute me, but to bear me
down by t}^rannical violence." ....
He addressed, also, a letter to the King, in which he
made the following attack upon the fanatical doctors of
the Sorbonne. " They make a pretence of religion," he
vsaid, " but they aspire to tyranny. If the prince shall not
in everything submit to their will, they will say that he is
a heretic, and that he ought to be deprived of his kingdom
by the Church."* This passage seems almost like a pro
phecy of the murder of Henry III. of France, which was
instigated by them. He also asked the King to restrain the
fury of Bedda and Sutor.
Erasmus did not address himself to Francis in vain. The
King issued an edict prohibiting the sale of Bedda s book.
But he could not, as we shall see hereafter, save him from
the censure with which he was threatened. The preceding
history, while it shows that Erasmus could not safely take
up his abode in France, will also show how little inclined
he was to imitate that Saviour who, " when He was reviled,
reviled not again / how completely his boasted scheme of
conciliation had failed of success, inasmuch as he was
abused by all parties and will furnish another instance of
that timidity which led him to shrink from suffering or
sacrifice for Christ s sake and the Gospel s, and of that love
of the good opinion of men, which led him, when danger
threatened, to seek protection from the highest and mightiest
of this world s potentates.
Erasmus published several devotional and other works in
the years 1525 and 1526, besides his treatise on the
" Tongue." His " Christian Widow," published in the last
* Op. torn. iii. p. 944, edit. Lugd.
296 !"THE TEEATISE ox CHRISTIAN MATRIMONY.
year, was written in honour of Maria, sister of Charles V. r
whose husband, the King of Bohemia, was killed prematurely
in battle. But his book on " Christian Matrimony " was the
most remarkable work of that year.* It was dedicated to
Catherine of Arragon, the Queen of Henry VIII. He had
a very exalted opinion of this illustrious and unfortunate
lady. He thus speaks of her in a letter to her royal hus
band, prefixed to the " Paraphrase on St. Luke s Gospel,
which was published three years before this time ; " Your
noble wife, a singular example of true pit ty to the present
age, scorning the trifles of women, spends a great part of
the day in reading religious books, thus reminding other
royal ladies who waste the greatest part of their time in
gambling, or in similar amusements, how they ought to
conduct themselves."t He says that she is remarkable, not
only for her piety, but also for her learning ; and that she
had so carefully educated her daughter Mary, that he could
highly commend her elegant Latin epistles4 The work
above referred to contains many excellent observations on
the choice of a partner for life, on the duties of husbands
and wives, on the means of strengthening love after mar
riage, and on other points relating to the marriage bond
which are suitable to people in every age. Many were
offended because he spoke in it more highly of marriage
than of celibacy, and suggested that marriage is not a
Sacrament. It appears from the dedication, and from a
letter to a friend, that, in compliance with Queen Catherine s
request, he had promised to write this work some time ago.
* Op. torn. v. p. 512, edit. Bas. t Op. torn. vii. p. 207, edit. Bas,
"Habemus Anglise Reginam, fceminam egregie doctam, civjus
Maria filia scribit bene Latinas epistolas." Epist. Vergarse, Op.
torn. iii. p. 621, edit. Bas. "Regina .... non minus pietate suspi-
cienda quam eruditione." Epist. Bombasio, Ibid. p. 93.
Ibid. p. 814.
THE TREATISE ON CHRISTIAN MATRIMONY. ] 297
He had, however, hitherto been prevented by illness, by
engagements, and by his troubles from fulfilling his pro
mise. The following short extracts will give the reader
some idea of it. It will be seen that parts have a bearing
on the question of the divorce which was then in agitation.
" Although we ought to pay very great attention to every
part of our daily life, we ought to be most anxious about
those parts which not only have their own peculiar advan
tages or disadvantages, but are also the seed plot from
which good or bad affections, opinions, and actions germi
nate. The husbandman, though he knows that in every
part of his work he must show unslumbering watchfulness,
yet looks especially after the roots of his trees, doubtless
because he is well aware that the preservation of the tree
itself depends upon them. The officers also whose business
it is, while they do not neglect the conduits, first of all look
to the fountains, because if these are polluted, the public
suffer greatly. The holy patriarchs, also, in the whole of
whose life we may find rules for our guidance, wherever
they settled, took the greatest care to provide themselves
with fountains of pure water ; they constantly waged war
for them, and when they were closed up, again dug them.
Their posterity always evinced a religious regard for them,
as if they were sacred things bequeathed to them by their
ancestors. Now, it appears to me that matrimony is the
root and the principal fountain from which the greatest part
of human happiness or misery proceeds. If proper care
were taken in regard to the steps which lead to it, and to
the whole of its subsequent course, all worldly affairs would
be much better managed than they are at the present time.
And yet I do not know how it has happened that scarcely
any department of duty is more neglected by Christians
than the one before us. We must think that the public
welfare depends upon it, unless indeed we are prepared to-
298 THE TREATISE ON CHRISTIAN MATRIMONY.
maintain that it is a matter of no importance who were the
parents of our public men, with what opinions their minds
have been inoculated, after what example their character
has been formed at home ; or unless we think that he who
has led a disgraceful and wicked life in the midst of his
household can properly manage the affairs of others.
Accordingly, we find that the great philosophers of antiquity
in general, but especially those whose works stand out from
those of the common herd, Aristotle, Xenophon, and
Plutarch, who, taking nature as their guide, have laid down
certain rules for good living, have written on no subject in
a more religious manner than on matrimony. Moreover,
those who have framed rules for the proper regulation of
our life, which have come down to us, have paid attention
especially to matrimony, and have given many directions
which tend to the holiness of wedlock, and the strengthen
ing of the marriage bond, and many rules for the proper
education of children. Of this kind are the numerous laws
as to betrothal, as to adultery and divorce, as to the juris
diction of parents over their children, and the duties of
children to their parents. Among Christians, however,
less attention has been given to matrimony than it de
served. "*
He afterwards makes the following observations on
divorce: "No human law punishes a treacherous or un
grateful friend ; but who does not detest the betrayer of
friendship, and the man who has shown ingratitude to those
who have conferred favours upon him 1 The civil law does
not punish this wickedness, because no punishment can be
devised equal to the offence, and because the execration of
the public is considered as a sufficient chastisement. It is
baser to be unfaithful to a friend, than to break a legal
* Op. torn. v. p. 513, edit. Bas.
THE TREATISE ON CHRISTIAN MATRIMONY. 299
contract, because friendship is cemented without bonds,
without witnesses, without pledges ; by faith alone, and by
mutual affection. Nor can a man be bound more closely by
any bonds, than by disinterested kindness. But where can
there be a closer union of souls, where a more certain trust
than in matrimony, where each willingly comes into
the power of the other, in a measure surrendering per
sonal liberty, and where the world is so far from entertain
ing the idea of divorce, that it is a bad omen even to name
it in connection with the marriage ceremony? Although
among the Jews and the heathen nations, the laws seem to
give men the power of divorcing their wives, yet by
the common feeling of mankind, divorce has always been
placed in the same category with ingratitude and the
betrayal of friendship AY here divorce takes place,
there has never been a real marriage. If the observation is
correct that a friendship which can come to an end has
never been a real friendship, we may say with much greater
truth, that a marriage which can be dissolved, has never
been a real one. I apply the word real to that union which
is cemented by real affection between those who are equally
virtuous. Now a bond which is created by our mental
qualities is scarcely ever broken."*
He afterwards thus speaks of the choice of a partner
for life : " My first direction is that you should pray
earnestly for a right and happy judgment. Then you
should consider what your aim should be ; a right
or wrong choice depends upon it. Those who choose
a son-in-law or a daughter-in-law, chiefly on account of their
wealth or their age, or because the one or the other belongs
to a noble family or a powerful party, often bring about a
most unhappy marriage, for the happiness of wedlock
depends chiefly on a properly assorted union, and on a
* Op. torn. v. pp. 515517, edit. Bas.
300 THE TEEATISE ON CHEISTIAN MATEIMONT.
perpetual harmony between those who are virtuous and
equals in birth I must own that not without
reason is that saying commended, Marry an equal ;
for as, according to the proverb, equals are most easily
brought to associate with equals, so they remain in the
closest union. This equality is not to be estimated by
wealth only, but by advantages of every description.
In making this calculation, we must first of all take into
account mental qualities, then personal endowments,
then what may be said to be external to both of them.
With regard to the first, an order of a certain kind is to be
observed. There are mental gifts which do not necessarily
render men good, as docility, a good memory, learning,
eloquence, shrewdness, quickness, because these may be-
abused, and applied to base purposes. But chastity,
sobriety, temperance, modesty, truth, prudence, faith,
vigilance, wherever they exist, at once make a man
happy. If the woman possesses in the least degree any of
these qualities, you may indulge the hope that her character
may be made to resemble your own ; and this hope will
become certainty if to a good natural disposition a good
education should be added. We may form our opinion of
vices in the same manner. There are certain mental
qualities which, as men say, are inscribed on the very
forehead, as chastity, gentleness, modesty. The con
versation, however, is the most certain indication of the
state of the mind. Speak, young man, said Socrates,
* that I may see you ; for the philosopher had his eyes in
his ears, not in his face. Many think it enough to have
seen the young woman whom they wish to marry ; if, how
ever, they really desire to see her, let them converse with
her, that they may not be deceived in her j let them care
fully inquire amongst whom, and in what manner, she has
been brought up. It is of great importance that she should
THE TREATISE ON CHRISTIAN MATRIMONY. 301
have been well-born ; but it is of far greater consequence
that she should have been properly educated. It not
unfrequently happens that we see young men and maidens,
who have the very best parents, and are remarkable for
their natural endowments, who have yet, through the neglect
of their education, so far degenerated from their former
selves, that they seem worse than changelings. On the
other hand we see illegitimate children who have been
brought up carefully in a good family, surpassing in personal
qualities those of better birth than themselves. We must
consider also, not only what are their natural endowments,
but also how to adjust them: for those who are exactly
alike do not always suit one another. If a young man
should be naturally somewhat sluggish, he wants a wifs of
an active disposition. If the husband be inclined to extrava
gance, he should have a frugal wife, who will limit his
expenditure. If he should be of an ardent character, he
will want a wife accustomed to self-restraint, who knows at
times how to yield, and to comply with his wishes.
Different qualities of this kind are found even amongst
those who are naturally igood; which, unless they are
properly blended together, make a marriage unhappy.
"In considering the gifts of the mind, we must see first
of all how they have conducted themselves towards their
parents, and how they have discharged their duty towards
God. For those may be trained to every virtue who have
learnt true piety. . . . He who wishes to choose a good wife
must first become a good man. In forming our judgment
we must have regard to the advice of our elders or our pa
rents, not only because love, a blind judge as men call him,
usually imposes on young men and maidens, but also because
those who are advanced in life, and have a larger knowledge
of the world, can form a better judgment than the young
who are led more by their carnal appetites than by reason,
302 THE TREATISE ON CHRISTIAN MATRIMONY.
and whose ignorance engenders a blind confidence, and ex
poses them the more to danger because they do not appre
hend it. To love, lad qualities often seem to be good ones.
Violence and ferocity in a suitor are dignified with the name
of bravery ; extravagance is called liberality. In the same
manner in a young woman immodest repartee or banter is
called sprightliness, and lasciviousness, which exhibits itself
in the eyes, the gait, and in every gesture, is considered as an
indication of affability or courtesy. Some there are who
think well of a female if at an entertainment she eats and
drinks as little as possible, not knowing that she has made
a good meal before she came to it ; if she does not hold out
her left hand where she ought to use her right hand ; if she
touches what she eats with the tips of her fingers ; if, when
she laughs, she does not show her teeth. They imagine
that a female who has been carefully instructed in trifles of
this kind is a suitable wife for them. Nay, rather goodness
must be deeply seated in the mind, and must exhibit itself
without disguise in the forehead, the eyes, the countenance,
and in every movement of the body."*
He thus speaks afterwards of personal beauty. " Of this
men judge very absurdly. Beauty and youth are the first
considerations, which, if they are the only reasons for our
love, cannot ensure its continuance. For since the flower
of youth is very short-lived, and beauty of form, not only
from the advance of years, but also often from other causes,
is sure to decay, love must perish also, where the personal
charms, in which it had its origin, have ceased to exist.
Love, therefore, which we wish to be enduring, must de
pend upon advantages which are independent of the circum
stances of our outward condition, and are unaffected by the
progress of years. Hear, Christian suitor, the opinion of
the wise man,t Favour is deceitful, and beauty is vain ;
* Op. torn. v. p. 549, edit. Bas. t Prov. xxxi. 30.
THE TREATISE ON CHRISTIAN MATRIMONY. 303
"but a woman that feareth the Lord, she shall be
praised. "When you are ravished with personal attractions,
you are loving a rose which must soon fade. A beautiful
skin is often like a false dye, hiding the deformity of the
mind. Why then do you keep your eyes fixed on the out
ward appearance ? Make use of the eyes of the philosopher
and look at the beauty of the soul. That by itself is suffi
cient to unite us in perpetual love. But if beauty of the
body be added to it, like gold placed on a jewel, we must
not reject the gift of God, only taking care that we do not
set too high a value on it. The soul which fears God, and
breaks none of His commandments, has neither spot nor
wrinkle. What does it matter if the skin has not a blemish
when the whole soul is denied with the spots of sin ? . . .*
The eye which sees only the beauty of the body, is not the
eye of the philosopher. He, through the veil of the flesh,
sees the beauty of the soul and fixes his love upon it. For
modesty, simplicity, the countenance itself, the general ap
pearance, are a kind of sermon to a wise man. . . .t Hear
Avhat the prophet says : All flesh is grass, and all the goodli-
ness thereof is as the flower of the field. The grass wither-
eth, the flower fadeth : but the word of our God shall stand
for ever. J These things the prophet is directed not to
speak, but to cry aloud to deaf men. Now what is personal
beauty, but the flower of grass ? But you hear of another
kind of beauty which shall bloom even in extreme old age :.
* The word of our God shall stand for ever. Where the
word of God flourishes, you find perpetual grace and beauty,
ensuring a love which shall never die."
The above translation will, I imagine, convey to the
reader a correct idea of a treatise which extends, in Latin,
over 90 pages in the Basle folio. We may observe in
* Op. torn. v. p. 564, edit. Bas. + Ibid. p. 551.
J Isai. xl. 6, 8. Op. torn. v. p. 554, edit. Bas.
304 QUEEN CATHERINE S DIVORCE.
various passages, allusions to the peculiar circumstances of
Catherine of Arragon. The following, for instance, seems
like an exhortation to the king : "If her beauty and strength
decay, let her still be dear to you, provided her character is
without spot or wrinkle."* Now the historian informs
us "that the Queen was older than the King by no
less than six years ; and that the decay of her beauty,
together with particular infirmities and diseases, had
contributed, notwithstanding her blameless character
and deportment, to render her person unacceptable to
him."t His observations on divorce will be read with much
interest in their connection with her. When his treatise
was written he thought that, as I have stated, " where
divorce takes place, there has never been a real marriage. 3
Many years afterwards he says, in a letter to a friend, that
he is not a little disturbed on account of the commotions
which had long attended the divorce.J He says at first
that no one can say that he has expressed approbation or
disapprobation of it, assigning as his reasons his post as
counsellor to the Emperor, gratitude to Henry VIII., and
friendship to Sir Thomas Boleyn. He states in another
letter that the matter had been under deliberation for
eight years, and insinuates that the Court of Rome did
not think it desirable to expedite it, as the delay served to
iill her coffers. || Our immortal bard has represented Henry
VIII. as expressing the same opinion :
I may perceive
These Cardinals trifle with me : I abhor
This dilatory sloth, and tricks
* Op. torn. v. p. 585, edit. Bas.
t Hume s " History of England" (The Student s Hume), p. 263.
" Doleo res Angliae spectare ad graves tumultus." Knight s
Life, "p. 255.
" Letter to Damianus a Goes," Op. torn. iii. p. 1471, edit. Lngd.
|| Knight s "Life," p. 255. U Shakespeare s "Henry VIII."
ERASMUS S LETTER TO QUEEN CATHERINE. 305
He says also, " If the Pope should pronounce that it is
not a lawful marriage, first of all he will offend the Emperor,
and then he will condemn the Roman See which has given
a dispensation contrary to law." Afterwards he does give
an opinion on the subject. With his usual vacillation he
takes a totally different view of divorce from that which he
had expressed in the " Treatise on Matrimony," and says in
the letter just referred to: "The King not without reason
has a scrupulous conscience, when two hundred doctors have
plainly proved by scriptural arguments that this marriage is
contrary to the laws of God and man." He adds, " Some
thing else troubles the King in connection with this matter,
which he does not wish to be mentioned."
The following extracts from a letter to the Queen, exactly
suited to her state and circumstances, in which he plainly
refers to the divorce, may be interesting to the reader.* It
was written two years after the publication of the " Trea
tise on Christian Matrimony." " Most uncommon it is to
see a female brought up amid the pleasures of a Court, the
favoured child of prosperity, which often spoils those who
have been most carefully trained, deriving comfort from
holy prayers, and from the study of the Sacred Scriptures.
. . . Whoever truly loves God fixes the anchor of his hope,
not in the barren sands of a transitory world, but on Christ
Jesus our Lord, that solid rock which can be shaken by no
billows. He is the Spouse of pious souls, in that degree
common to all, that no husband is more the peculiar pro
perty of his wife, than He belongs to, and is present with, all
His followers. He who rests with full confidence on His
bosom, and casts all his care on that God who continually
watches over him, is calm and happy in the midst of worldly
commotions. The soul which has given up itself altogether
* Op. torn. iii. p 646 edit. Baa.
20
306 ERASMUS S LETTER TO QUEEN CATHERINE.
to this Bridegroom, rejoices not less in adversity than in
prosperity. . . , Christ is often kinder to us when He visits
us with afflictions than when He soothes us with soft
delights. Prosperity is more pleasant to a man, but very
often adversity is more profitable to him. There is no way
to heavenly glory but through the cross. This path is com
mon to all ; whether, as Horace says, we are kings or poor
husbandmen. O illustrious Queen, and singular example of
piety, may the Lord Jesus, the fountain of all happiness,
breathe through your soul a holy calm, a pure and lasting
joy!"
DIFFERENCE BETWEEN ERASMUS AND THE LUTHERANS. 307
CHAPTER XI.
ERASMUS AT ENMITY WITH THE REFORMERS. HIS LOVE
OF FAME. CONTINUED OPPOSITION OF THE MONKS.
HIS " CICERONIANUS." DEPARTURE FROM BASLE TO
FRIBURG. LOUIS DE BERQUIN. (A.D. 1526-1530.)
WE are delighted when we see Erasmus, at the beginning
of the Reformation, laying bare the secret chambers of
iniquity, unfolding abominations which shunned the face of
day, lashing with his wit and satire, that thrice-knotted
scourge, a debauched, indolent, and avaricious clergy, and
sharpening that sword of the Spirit with which others have
vanquished the confederated legions of darkness. Judging
from these antecedents, we might naturally suppose that he
would have made common cause with the Lutheran Reformers
in their terrible struggle with their foes. But a gulf separated
him from them. He could not join them in making their
own interpretations of Scripture the rule of faith, instead of
the authority of the Church. He could not accept Luther s
view of justification by faith in the imputed righteousness of
Christ, which the latter considered an essential and funda
mental doctrine. I have shown that this was the case when
I spoke of the " Enchiridion," and I shall adduce additional
evidence of the truth of this assertion in the next chapter.
He understood by faith in Christ, as we have already seen,
202
308 REASONS OP HIS HOSTILITY TO THE EEFOEMEES.
the imitation of His example. He tells us in the "Para-
clesis" that he would have us worship "the living and
breathing image of Christ " in the writings of the Evange
lists ; where, as we learn from the "Enchiridion," he under
stands by Christ " not an unmeaning word, but love,
singleness, patience, and purity." He says in one of his
"Apologies," that he does not know what Luther means when
he states that good works must follow faith. In fact, we
gather from various passages that he considers that to be a
Christian is not to be justified by faith in Christ, but to
exhibit in the whole course of our life and conversation a
transcript, however faint, of those graces and virtues which
dignified and adorned the all perfect character of our Divine
Master.
Other reasons may be assigned for his unwillingness to
join the Lutheran movement. He thought, as I have said,
that he saw in the war of the peasants a confirmation of his
fears that the Reformation, as conducted by Luther, would
lead to commotions which would have the effect of dis
solving society into its original elements. Thus, in his
" Hyperaspistes," after venturing, as we have seen, on an
unfortunate prediction, "that no name under the sun would
be held in greater execration than the name of Luther," he
proceeds to say : " The beginnings of the mischief he has
done we have already in the Peasants War/ * He became
also very hostile to the Keformers on account of the
incessant attacks which they made upon him, because he
would not come forward and assail the stronghold of their
foes. I think, as I have before said, that here they showed
a great want of judgment ; for he was altogether unequal
to work of this description. He tells us, too, that he dis
trusted the Eeformation because it had produced a set of
* Op. torn. ix. p. 1097, edit. Bas.
HIS AGREEMENT WITH LUTHER ON SOME POINTS. 309
fanatics who were as hostile as the monks to the study of
profane literature ;* who preached Christ with their lips,
but not in their lives, which were often directly at variance
with the plainest precepts of the Gospel. He should not,
however, have blamed the party for the faults of individuals.
His alienation from them was only gradual. He saw many
excellences in them which he could not fail to admire. On
many points, indeed, he felt that he could agree with
Luther. He knew that he was right on the question of
indulgences. In the " Praise of Folly " and the " Enchiri
dion," he has himself expressed the same opinion on this
doctrine. They agreed, too, in condemning confession, the
superstitious ceremonies of the monks, the false trust in the
Virgin and Saints, clerical celibacy, and other dogmas of
Romanism. Accordingly, we find that for some time Eras
mus treated the Reformers with great candour, and con
demned every attempt to extirpate them by persecution.
He wrote to the heads of the Church, declaring his agree
ment with Luther on many points, and recommending
moderation. Even to Pope Leo, when he was full of fury,
he wrote boldly, separating himself from Luther, but im
ploring him not to have recourse to violent measures. In
the same spirit he wrote to Luther, exhorting him to be
moderate. He wanted, by peaceable means, to effect the Re
formation of the Church, and to maintain its unity under the
Pope. On the impracticability of this scheme, I have already
expressed my opinion. When he attempted to moderate
the anger of the contending parties, he might just as well
have attempted to stay the hurricane in its desolating pro
gress, so that it should not lash into fury the waves of the
* This, Luther himself regrets : " Plerique non solum sacras literaa
sed etiam omnes alias literas fastidiunt et contemnunt. Digni
certe qui avorjrois Galatis conferantur." Comment, in Epist. ad
Galat. i. 6.
310 HIS TIMIDITY.
ocean, or uproot the giant oak, the monarch of the forest.
But the fact that this attempt was made, is a proof of his
generous and kindly feelings towards the Reformers.
When he found that he could not accept Luther s doctrine
of justification, and that he could not for the reasons given
above join the Reformers, he ought not, if he had any
regard to his own consistency, to have ceased to lift up his
voice as a trumpet against the corruptions of the Church of
Rome. But here unfortunately we see a proof of that
timidity which has tarnished the fame of services rendered
to the cause of the Reformation in the early part of his
career. He saw indeed fissures in the walls of the vast
structure of Romanism. But he judged that they would be
repaired, and that the building would continue to stand on
a firm foundation. While, therefore, he saw much in the
existing system which he strongly condemned, still he
judged it wiser not to separate himself from it, and not to
compromise his safety by casting in his lot with Luther and
his associates. I know that some have quoted his own
words in the " Spongia," in extenuation of his conduct : " I
am ready to be a martyr for Christ if He will give me
strength to be so ; but I am unwilling to be a martyr for
Luther." They have said that he had before his eyes the
terrible fate of Savonarola and of others who, though they
had not been heretical in the same sense as himself, had
fallen victims to the anger of the Popes. But it should
be remembered, that though he could not die for a " Luther s
paradoxes," as he calls them, he should have been ready to
die for his own opinions. Savonarola continued to the close
of his days to denounce the corruptions of the Church of
Rome. Erasmus, however, from fear of the consequences,
ceased to protest against them, and laboured to accommodate
matters.
The truth was that, as he said to Pace, " he had no incli-
HIS FLATTEEING LETTER TO POPE CLEMENT. 311
nation to die for the sake of truth." He was conscious that
he had, by his satirical publications, rendered himself
obnoxious to a large proportion of the clergy. He therefore
lost no opportunity of securing the good-will of the Pope
and his Cardinals. Thus, when Clement VII. was raised to
the Papal throne, he congratulated him in the most flatter
ing manner.* It gave him the greatest satisfaction, he said,
to hear of his advancement. He was a man possessed of
the qualities, both mental and bodily, which the very
turbulent times required. In regard to himself, he could
venture to swear, with Christ as his witness to his sincerity,
that if his Holiness did only know how he had been solicited
by great princes, and enticed by his friends, to join the
Lutheran conspiracy against the Eoman See, also how he
had been provoked to do it by certain monks and divines,
and how steadfastly he had resisted motives of every sort,
he would not think him undeserving of his protection, but
would punish those who had libelled him at Rome in the
most scandalous manner. This author, he added, had picked
out of his works a number of half sentences, and had most
impudently misrepresented them. Undoubtedly, if he could
have foreseen the sectarians of the present day, lie, would either
have suppressed many things which he had said, or written the
same in a different manner. In the later editions he had left
out many things, for the purpose, of not giving a handle to ill-
disposed persons ; and would readily have altered other expres
sions if any one had given him a friendly hint. On all occasions
he submitted himself and his writings to the Roman See ;
and never should oppose its decisions, even if he thought
them wrong : for he would suffer anything rather than be
guilty of sedition.
But Erasmus did not wish that his connection with the
Reformers should be altogether dissolved. He endeavoured
* Op. torn. iii. ep. 670, edit. Lugd.
312 HIS TORTUOUS COURSE.
for some time to pursue a middle course between the con
tending parties. To the truth of this assertion, a letter to
Zuinglius, written in the very same year as the letter to
Pope Clement, bears unequivocal testimony. He begins it
thus : " Health, most excellent Zuinglius, I have been
gratified by talking with you through your letter."* We
find him then observing that many are as little pleased with
the Pope as with Luther, and inveighing bitterly against
the tyranny and cruelty both of bishops and of kings.
What strange words are these from one who had been
writing in the above strain to Pope Clement, and from one
who, as we shall see directly, was constantly nattering
kings ! Nay, he almost avows himself a Lutheran, saying,
" I seem to myself to have taught all things which Luther
teaches. ... I have refused every offer which was made
to me to write against him. I am urged to do it by the
Pope, by the Emperor, by Kings, by Princes, by very learned
men, and my dearest friends. It is certain, however, that
I shall not write at all, or that I shall so write as not to
please those Pharisees." And yet in a little more than a
year, he heaps upon Luther the most opprobrious epithets,
and in about two years and a half, as we have seen, he
represents himself to the Faculty of Paris as in full conflict
with the Lutherans and Zuinglians.
This tortuous course into which Erasmus was led by his
love of the praise of men, and his fear of persecution, is not
very creditable to him. If he had lived in the present day,
when persecution, in its worst form, is not the portion of
God s Church, and there are no strong temptations to with
draw men from their allegiance to their Spiritual Leader, he
would probably have been happier in his own mind, more
useful to the community, and would have occupied a higher
place in the good opinion of succeeding generations. Living
* Jortin, vol. ii. p. 489.
ERASMUS AT ENMITY "WITH THE REFORMERS . 313
in a period of fierce controversy, he endeavoured for a time
to satisfy both the contending parties, to-day identifying
himself with one of them, to-morrow with the other, till at
length he lost the esteem and confidence of both, and all,
both Protestants and Roman Catholics, believed him to be
insincere; and till he had become so perplexed in his views
of religious truth, that he was unable to give a very distinct
account of them, or to say very decidedly on what foundation,
he was building for eternity.
But at length Erasmus abandoned this feeble neutrality,
and became the inveterate enemy of the Reformers. He
found himself, however, as we have already seen in the case
of his treatise on " Free-will," much fettered in his opposi
tion to them by the very decided opinions which he had
expressed on the great points at issue between them and
their opponents. This, no doubt, was a cause of that infir
mity of purpose, that timidity, that equivocation, and that
resentment against them which he exhibited during the last
sad years of his memorable career.
We have seen that Erasmus most reluctantly yielded to
the urgent solicitations of the potentates of Europe, and
wrote the treatise just referred to, a work to which he felt
that he was altogether unequal. We have many instances
of that vanity, that love of fame, and of the esteem of
persons of rank and consequence, which led him, in comply
ing with their wishes, to do violence to his conscientious
convictions. Long before the time of which we are now-
speaking, he thus wrote to his friend Battus : " My equal
can scarcely be found in the course of many centuries."*
In a letter to Polydore Virgil in the year 1527t he says, "I
stand on a very good footing with the great. Clement VII.
has already given me two hundred florins, and promises
me all things. The Emperor and his Chancellor have
* Op. torn. iii. ep. 94, edit. Lugd. t Ibid. p. 809, edit. Bas.
314 HIS VANITY.
written to me in the most friendly manner. I have drawers
full of letters from kings, princes, cardinals, dukes, nobles,
bishops, written with the utmost civility. I receive un
common and valuable presents from many of them."
In another letter, written in 1530, he gives the following
ostentatious account of his letters and presents from
" bishops, from abbots, from kings, princes, and arch
bishops, all well-known men.* From the Emperor Charles,
I have many letters written in a tone of affection. I attach
more importance to them than to his generosity, to which,
however, I owe a great part of my fortune. From the
Archduke Ferdinand I have several very friendly, never sent
without a present. How often has the King of France in
vited me to his country, and what liberal offers has he made
me ! The King of England has given to me a proof of his
kindly feelings towards me by sending to me of his own
accord several letters and presents. His Queen, Catherine,
the most excellent woman whom this age has produced,
vies with him in this respect. Sigismund, the King of
Poland, has sent me a letter with a gift of royal value;
George, Duke of Saxony, often addresses letters to me,
never without a present. I may also mention William,
Archbishop of Canterbury, Cuthbert, fotmerly Bishop of
London, now Bishop of Durham, and John, Bishop of Lin-
coln,t who besides letters more precious than jewels, usually
send me every year, when I neither ask for nor expect it, a
present, as a token of their friendship." He then mentions
several other prelates who had sent him letters and presents,
and continues thus : " A few days ago, Christopher Stadius,
* Jortin, vol. i. p. 495.
t John Longland, Bishop of Lincoln, was confessor to Henry VIII.
Erasmus considered him a person of great abilities. He dedicated
to him some treatises of St. Athanasius, and an exposition of the
85th Psalm. (Knight s "Life," p. 188.)
THE ESTEEM IN WHICH HE WAS HELD. 315
Bishop of Augsburg, a man of true nobility, and remark
able for his learning, made a journey of seven days to this
place, which was not altogether a safe one, for no other
purpose, as he told me, than that he might see Erasmus, or
rather his shadow. He brought with him two royal cups,
and two hundred golden florins. I have a closet full of
presents of cups, of flagons, of spoons, of clocks, some of
which are of pure gold. The number of those who give me
presents daily increases, though I have never made an ap
peal to their generosity, plainly telling them that I have
quite enough for my present frugal style of living, of which
I am so far from being sorry, that I would rather take away
from it. than add to it."
We have many proofs, independently of his own testi
mony, of the esteem in which he was held by noble and
distinguished individuals. He was often called by them
the light of the world, and the glory of Christendom.
Henry VIII. had, as we have seen, most unwillingly allowed
him to depart from this country. By his desire he attended
the meeting between himself and Francis I. on the Field of
the Cloth of Gold. While striving for the empire, Charles
V. and Francis I. competed for the honour of his residence
in their dominions. A memorable letter, which he wrote
to the former after the battle of Pavia, exhorting him to
use his victory with generosity, shows very plainly the foot
ing of easy familiarity on which he stood with the Emperor.*
In a dialogue published about the same time he writes, " If
I were Emperor, I should thus address the King of France :
My brother, some evil genius has kindled the war between
us. Fortune has made you my prisoner j she may make me
yours. Your misfortune has led me to think of the mis
fortunes incident to humanity. The war has continued too
long j let us begin another contest. I give you liberty ;
* Butler s "Life, "p. 133.
316 FLATTERING LETTER TO HIM FROM CHARLES V.
give me your friendship. Let the past be forgotten ; I de
sire no ransom. Let our only rivalry be who shall excel
the other in good offices. He who shall conquer in this
contest will win the noblest of triumphs. " We have seen
how Pope Leo encouraged him. He did not indeed fulfil
his promises, chiefly, I believe, because he was wholly ab
sorbed in luxury and the fine arts. The Emperor Charles V.
never cast off his regard for the distinguished scholar. At
the end of the year 1527, when Erasmus had become the
adversary of the Reformers, we find the Emperor himself
writing to him and telling him how great was his satisfac
tion to have been informed by his letters that the madness
of the Lutherans began to decline.* " The whole Christian
world," he said, " was indebted to him for having effected
that which neither Emperors, nor Popes, nor Princes, nor
Universities, nor numbers of learned men had been able to
accomplish." Notwithstanding this gross flattery, he tells
him that he had allowed the Spanish Inquisition to examine
his books, but that he had nothing to fear, as he was quite
convinced of his orthodoxy. If, however, it should appear
that he had unintentionally been guilty of any error, or
had said anything which was ambiguous in his writings, he
would certainly, when he was admonished in a friendly
manner, explain it, and by removing everything which
might offend weak minds, secure immortality to his works.
In 1528, Henry VIII. wrote the following letter to Eras
mus, which was designed to persuade him to return to his
dominions.t He told him that he was much grieved to hear
from Archbishop Warham that he was badly treated by men
of a perverse mind, who were enemies not only to him, but
also to Christianity itself ; that he thought it very disgrace
ful that a person whom he so highly esteemed for his learn-
* Op. torn. iii. p. 1047, edit. Lugd. f Ibid. p. 1839.
INVITATION FROM HENRY VIII. TO ENGLAND. 317
ing and abilities should be in danger of his life, and nowhere
safe from their malice \ that he had always been an admirer
of him, but more especially now, when lie had come forward ivith
so much vigour and skill in defence of Christianity. He added
that, as he was determined to promote true religion in
his kingdom, and bring it back to the primitive standard,
that the word of God might be the test of it, so much the
more concerned he was for him, lest, being taken out of the
way, he should want that assistance which he was ready to
afford him in the prosecution of his laudable design. He
begged him to leave Italy and Germany, and to hasten to
England, where he could assure him of a very kind recep
tion. He knew by experience how many friends and
patrons he had in this country, and hoped that, as they
joined him in asking him to come, so he would make good
his former promise of choosing England for setting up his
staff.
Erasmus sent his answer through Sir Thomas More. It
was to the effect that His Majesty s kind invitation gave
him great relief amid all his perplexities ; but that it would
become him more now to find out a place for his burial
where he might be at rest, since he despaired of it while
living. He desired him to make his apologies to the King
for not answering the letter.
We can easily imagine that gross adulation of this de
scription from the mightiest of the monarchs of Europe, as
well as the court which was paid to him by her other kings,
her princes, her dignified ecclesiastics, her nobles, her
learned men, her statesmen, and her warriors, would be a
sore trial to the virtue of Erasmus, especially when we
remember the circumstances of his birth, as well as his want
of natural friends, and even of country. We can see that
he might thus be induced, even contrary to his convictions,
to come forward in defence of the established hierarchy, and
31 S HIS LOVE OF THE FAVOUK OF GEE AT MEN.
to endeavour to save Romanism from the destruction with
which she was threatened. When, too, we find him flatter
ing this world s potentates, we know that we ought to
remember the usages of the times, and the language in
which it was the rule to address prelates and Sovereigns ; and
to take into account his poverty, and his dependence upon
their liberality for subsistence, and for the means of prose
cuting his studies. But when we have allowed their full
force to these circumstancs, we canenot fail to see that his
love of the praise of men detracts greatly from the value of
his Christianity. Many sincere Christians have, like Eras
mus, felt that timidity which, if they had given way to it,
would have led them, like him, to pay court to the mighty
ones of the earth, in order that they might be preserved
from persecution. I believe that one reason for the determi
nation of Erasmus to become the decided adversary of the
Reformers was, that he felt that he might lose the favour of
his great friends, and expose himself to danger, if he gave
even the semblance of support to the cause of the Reforma
tion. He had thus induced them, as we have just seen in
the case of Henry VIII. , at this time to be quite profuse in
their expressions of regard for him, and to distinguish him,
by numerous tokens of their favour. This is the reason
why Sigismund, King of Poland, had at this time written
to him. He had, in order to augment his protectors among
crowned heads, followed the advice of John a Lasco, and
sent a letter to him, in which he complimented the King,
and recommended peace to Christian princes.* Sigismund
in reply sent him a very courteous letter and a present, and
kindly invited him to Poland. But there is this great differ
ence between Erasmus and the persons just referred to,
that, while he allowed his timidity and his love of the
praise of men to exercise full dominion over him, they
* Op. torn, iii. p. 824, edit. Bas.
CONDEMNATION OF HIS TVOBKS BY THE SOEBONNE. 319
were deeply grieved on account of their besetting infir
mities, viewed them as hindrances to their spiritual pro
gress, and sought earnestly for that grace which alone
could enable them to gain the victory over them. They
constantly endeavoured to act up to their conscientious
convictions. He, however, under the influence of the feel
ings just referred to, endeavoured to stifle them, and con
ciliated the favour of emperors and kings by paying court
to them, and assuring them that he would never depart
from his allegiance to the Church of Eome.
The monks and divines continued to assail him with un
mitigated rancour, both in France and the Low Countries.
From a letter of Alphonso Fonseca, Archbishop of Toledo,
who kindly offered him his protection, it appears that he
was warmly attacked also in Spain.* In 1528 the Sorbonne
at Paris at length published against him their censures.
They were passed in the summer of 1526, but could not be
issued till the approval of the other Faculties had been
obtained. I have already given the decree as to the " Col
loquies." The members of that body extracted more than
thirt} r propositions from them and the " Paraphrases," and
censured them in the strongest terms. t They described
him as a heretic and a demoniac. His defence, entitled
" Declarationes ad Censuras Facultatis Theologise Parisi-
ensis," is an admirable specimen of his great power of
evasion and address.J We find in it the language alter
nately of menace and submission. While he despised in
his heart these Parisian theologians, he yet condescended to
make a kind of submission to them, and to own that he had
said many things very incautiously in his writings. He
also abused the Reformers, and maintained that he had
always been steadfast in his allegiance to the Church (an
* Op. torn. iii. p. 565, edit. Bas. t Du Pin, iii. 240, 335.
Op. torn. ix. p. 813, edit. Lugd.
320 HIS AWKWAKD APOLOGY TO THE SORBONNE.
assertion which is manifestly incorrect) ; but he admitted
that he might have been guilty of serious errors while he
was endeavouring to controvert their arguments. In the
Preface, too, he shows his wonderful power of sarcasm ; for
he expresses, in language which every one can understand,
his great anxiety to uphold the dignity of the theologians of
Paris. Such was the end of the pacific Reformation advo
cated by Erasmus. He had offended the Papists without
leading them to give up one iota of their dogmas. It is
true, indeed, that Francis I. strongly censured the conduct
of the Sorbonne, and directed the Parliament not to allow
these divines to print anything which had not been pre
viously submitted to its notice.* But still the majority of
the members of the Roman Catholic Church did not believe
the protestations of Erasmus that he was a loyal subject of
their spiritual monarch, and ridiculed him on account of his
awkward apology to the fanatical doctors of the Sorbonne ;
while, on the other hand, the Protestants were full of indig
nation against him because, after having advanced some
distance towards them, as if he were about to place himself
under their banner, he had been induced, partly by the fear
of persecution, to fall back into the ranks of their bitterest
foes.
One of his enemies, at the time of which I am now writ
ing, was the Prince of Carpi, a man of higher rank than
Bedda, but not possessing the same power of doing mischief
as that individual, who published two large works against
Erasmus, in which he endeavoured to prove that he was
neither a divine nor a theologian, and that to him was to be
attributed the disorder everywhere prevalent. In the midst
of his controversy with him, in the year 1527, he lost his old
friend Froben, the printer. His loss affected him deeply.
He seems to have always anticipated his wants, and to have
* Burigni s "Life," vol. i. p. 512.
THE " CICEEONIANUS." 321
never been better pleased than when he had surprised him
with some token of his kindness and liberality. He eulo
gizes him as one who had conferred a service on literature
by printing books remarkable for their large type and their
freedom from error, forming a perfect contrast in these
respects to the works of printers even at Venice and Rome ;
as one too who esteemed no labour too great to be undergone
in bringing before the public some good author, whose
works were calculated to promote the onward march of
religious, moral, or literary improvement.*
In the early part of 1528 Erasmus published a treatise on
the right pronunciation of Latin and Greek,t in which he
shows, with great learning, that the methods usually adopted
were incorrect. The mode which he recommends, though
contrary to our own, is considered by many to rest upon
right principles. This was accompanied by a remarkable
work called "Ciceronianus/ f which showed his scholarship to
greater advantage than any by which it had been preceded.
A sect called the Ciceronians had risen up at the close of the
preceding century, when Erasmus was a boy, who tied them
selves down to a servile imitation of Cicero. They would
use no word nor phrase which was not to be found in the
works of the illustrious Roman. Erasmus ridicules them in
the work before us. Nosoponus, the Ciceronian, is intro
duced, arguing with two friends, who, with the most delight
ful irony, express their approbation of his views, and gently
dispute with him, hoping to cure him of his madness. This
individual carries his admiration of Cicero so far, that he
has read no book but Cicero for seven years; keeps three
or four volumes of an enormous size, in which he has marked
down the different senses in which Cicero used his words, as
well as the feet with which he began or closed his sentences,
* Op. torn. iii. ep. 922, edit. Lugd.
t Ibid. torn. i. p. 913. $ Ibid. p. 973.
21
322 THE " CICERONIANUS."
seals his letters with Cicero s head, and has only Cicero s
bust in his library. Erasmus tells a story in this work
of the imposition practised upon the Ciceronians by some
wits of this time. They attached the name of a German to
a passage taken from Cicero, and showed it to them. The
latter ridiculed it very much, and declared that it was bar
barous. They then produced something written only the
day before, which they declared to have been composed by
Cicero, pretending that they had found it in a very old
library. Immediately they kissed it, and adored those di
vine and inimitable words of Cicero. He describes this sect
also in a letter to a friend.* They could not endure to see
the name of Christ in polite literature, " as if nothing were
elegant which had not a heathen origin. Their opinion was
that the words Jupiter Optimus Maximus, have a more
agreeable sound than Jesus Christus redemptor mundi/
and Patres conscripti than Sancti apostoli. . . . These
men account it more disgraceful not to be a Ciceronian than
not to be a Christian, just as though, if Cicero were now
alive, he would write on Christian subjects in the same
manner as in the age in which he lived. What is the
meaning of this detestable praise of Cicero ? I will tell you
in a few words, but as it were in a whisper. It is a mere
pretext for the revival of Paganism, which is dearer to them
than the glory of Christ/ Here again he shows his oppo
sition to the new Paganism already referred to, which in
Italy accompanied the revival of classical studies, t The
truth was, that Erasmus thought, as he has shown in the
"Ciceronianus," that the determination to use only Ciceronian
v/ords was fatal to the introduction of Christian ideas into
our works. He does not seem to have looked forward to
the time when Christianity would have its own works in
* Op. torn. iii. p. 1021, edit. Lugd. t See pp. 153, 154.
323
the languages of the different nations of Europe. He ad
mired, indeed, Cicero, as an elegant writer; but still he
thought it possible to write, as he has said in the letter just
referred to, in a manner more expressive and solid, but not
so lax and wordy. So far from being able to give a polish
to what he had written, often he was not able, as he informs
us, to read it a second time. The Ciceronians often spent
three weeks or a month over a work, and that not a very
long one, whereas he had often to finish a whole book in a
single day. Yet he has obtained this commendation from
a competent judge : " His style is natural and unaffected,
and excellently adapted to every subject upon which he un
dertakes to write. The learned Dr. Worthington, speaking
of the homely style of Thomas a Kempis, says that the
Latin of that age was not so polished and restored to its
purity and splendour, as it was afterwards by the stupen
dous diligence, and the unwearied labours of the incompa
rable Erasmus."*
Few works produced a greater revolution in the literary
world, or exposed the author to more abuse, than the " Cice-
ronianus." The great point was whether Erasmus was right
in asserting that the Ciceronians attached too much value
to Cicero. A more unimportant one cannot well be ima
gined ; and yet if Erasmus had been guilty of the greatest
crimes and enormities, he could not have been assailed in
more abusive language than by Scaliger. He described
him as a drunkard, a hangman, a parricide, a monster, a
new Porphyry, a Luther, and an infidel. All this abuse
preyed very much upon his mind. He thought that Scaliger
had been urged by others to write against him, and made
his conjectures known to the world. Thus he exposed him
self to new troubles. Scaliger thought himself unjustly ac
cused, and attacked him with greater violence; but uni-
* Knight s " Life," p. 202.
212
324
versal indignation was expressed by the learned of all
nations on account of his unjustifiable conduct. At length
he was induced to address an apologetic letter to Erasmus,
who accepted the apology just before his death.
The following extract from Gibbon s works with refer
ence to this subject, may be interesting to the reader : *
"The object of this dialogue is to attack some blind admi
rers and copiers of Tully s style. In this attack he employed
every arm both of argument and pleasantry. It may be
divided into three parts. In the first Nosoponus, the Ci
ceronian, is introduced. His excessive devotion to Cicero,
his three indices, his never writing except in the dead si
lence of the night, his employing months on a few lines, his
religious concern about words, and his total indifference as
to the sense, are highly and truly comic. In the second
part Erasmus appears under the name of Bulephorus, and
entering into great detail establishes victoriously that Ci
cero, though worthy of our imitation, is not over-worthy of
it ; that so servile an attachment to any author destroys all
originality of genius, and produces a set of tame writers,
who will copy the faults, but who will never attain the
perfection of the great model ; and that, finally, we should
endeavour to speak as Cicero would do, if he had lived at
the present time."
Erasmus had been for some time uneasy at Basle. In a
letter to a friend, in 1527, he says that he meditates flight,
but knows not where to go.t He was often appealed to by
the Reformers among whom he lived, and he was afraid of
being led to use expressions which might be considered
heretical by the Roman Catholic party. At the same time
he was unwilling to leave a city where he had many friends,
where he could have his books printed at an excellent
* Gibbon s Miscellaneous Works, vol. v. p; 259.
t Op. torn. iii. p. 636, edit.Bas.
HIS KEMOVAL FROM BASLE TO FKIBURG. 325
printing-press, and where he was out of the way of his
monkish persecutors.
At the end of April, 1529, however, on the legal establish
ment of the Reformation in Basle, not without opposition,
which was overawed by the firmness of the senate, he took his
departure for Friburg, in Brisgau, in the territories of Fer
dinand of Austria. The magistrates and ministers of reli
gion at Basle, though Protestants, sensible of the honour
which their city derived from his residence among them,
endeavoured to induce him to alter his determination ; but,
with his usual timidity, he would not comply with their
request, because he was afraid that the Romanists would
accuse him of collusion with the Protestants, and of having
been instrumental in securing the predominance of the
latter religion in the city. King Ferdinand had given him.
a passport, and had invited him to his court. In one of the
visits which he paid to Friburg, in February and March,
1529, before he finally took up his abode in the city, he had
a most gratifying reception. * The magistrates, the nobility,
and the University went forth to meet him, paying him
high compliments, and calling him the supporter and pro
tector of literature. The magistrates gave him a cup, ele
gantly wrought ; the College, a girdle embroidered with
gold, and not inferior to the cup ; and, when he departed,
some gentlemen accompanied him back to the gates of Basle.
All the expenses of his journey were defrayed. He dwelt at
first in a house which had been inhabited by Ferdinand, uncle
to Charles V. ; but, as this proved too large for him, he
purchased another, in 1531, which he repaired, or rebuilt at
a great expense. He gives the following amusing account
of his vexations, in a letter to a friend. t " If any one were
to tell you that Erasmus, now nearly seventy years old, had
* Burigni, vol. i. p. 450.
t Op. torn. iii. p. 1200, edit. Lugd.
326 LOUIS DE BEKQUIF.
married, would you not mark yourself at least half-a-dozen
times with the sign of the cross 1 ? I know well that you
would do so, and with reason. But now I have done some
thing which gives me equal trouble and vexation, and is
equally uncongenial to my pursuits and inclinations. I
have bought a house which is well spoken of, indeed, but
which has cost me much. Who would despair of seeing
the rivers flowing back to their sources, when they heard
that Erasmus, who had hitherto made literary ease the
great object of his life, had become a bargainer, a buyer, a
contractor, a builder, and instead of conversing with the
muses, has dealings with workmen, carpenters, ironmongers,
stonemasons, glaziers T
Though Erasmus never joined the Reformers, yet he had,
by his writings, led others to cast in their lot with them,
who afterwards gave very plain proof of the reality of their
religion, by being faithful unto death to their Divine and
adorable Redeemer. This w^as the case, amongst others,
with John a Lasco, a nobleman of Poland, who lived and
boarded with him for some time, at Basle.* But the sad
history of Louis de Berquin, affords the most striking confirm
ation of the truth of our assertion. Pie was a gentleman
from Artois, and had resided for some time at the Court of
Francis I. To use the words of Erasmus, " the purity of
his life, his wonderful devotedness to his friends, his liber
ality to the poor,"t and as we learn from another source of
information, "his great erudition,"} served to distinguish
him in a remarkable manner from the rest of the nobility.
He was also, as we learn again from the same letter of
Erasmus, conspicuous for his " strict observance of the fasts,
feasts, and masses of the Church of Rome, and he had in the
* Jortin, vol. i. p. 379. t Ibid. p. 476.
J Guillard, " Hist, de Franfois !"
HIS TRANSLATION OF ERASMUS S WORKS. 327
first instance a great horror of heresy." We might there
fore naturally suppose that he would be most unlikely to
separate from her communion. But he utterly abhorred
that ecclesiastical tyranny of which Erasmus supposed
Bedda to be the incarnation, when he said " I am fighting
with the ecclesiastics, or rather with the Beddaics, for in
Bedda alone there are 3000 monks."* He could not, as
Erasmus says, " even wish to be guilty of an act of injustice
himself, and could not therefore endure the perpetration of
it by others." Thus the violence and the unjust proceed
ings of Bedda inflamed him with indignation. In opposing
his tyranny he was led to inquire after truth. While he
was in this state of mind he met with some tracts of Eras
mus, as his " Praise of Marriage," his " Christian Soldier s
Manual/ and his "Complaint of Peace," which he trans
lated into French. As Berquin had declared himself to be
a decided enemy of the monkish tyrants, Bedda sent Eras
mus word that the translation might injure his character.
The timid scholar, however, replied that it was undertaken,
without his consent, and that he ought to be judged by his
own works, as he had published them, and not by the ver
sions of others. t He also sent a special messenger to Ber
quin with a letter, in which he told him that though he had
published his books with a good intention, yet he had
brought an odium upon him, and, with his usual timidity,
recommended him to avoid all contests with the divines,
because religious controversy was carried on with so much
acrimony that it was not safe to meddle with it.J
But the ardour of Berquin in the inquiry after truth was
unquenched and unquenchable. He felt a desire to become
acquainted with the Holy Scriptures loved by the very men
whom Bedda and his satellites were labouring to exterminate.
* Jortin, vol. i. p. 422. f Op, torn. iii. p. 866, edit. Lugd.
J Ibid., p. 884.
328 HIS OPPOSITION TO THE DOGMAS OP SOME.
Soon he came to know experimentally the life-giving power
of those words of wisdom and truth which are able to make
wise unto salvation through faith which is in Christ Jesus.
Then he became anxious to pour a flood of light
on his fellow-countrymen. Having gained additional
courage by the prayerful study of the Sacred Scriptures, he
boldly published some epigrams against the " Sorbonne
hornets," and openly charged them with impiety. Now
also he circulated through France, not only the writings of
Erasmus, but also those of Luther and Melancthon, and
maintained, as we learn from the letter of the first
describing his death, from which I shall presently give an
extract, that the Sacred Scriptures should be translated into
the vulgar tongue, and disseminated among the people.
He also held, as we learn from the same letter, that it is im
proper "to call on the Virgin Mary instead of the Hol> Ghost,
and to describe her as the source of all grace." He finds
fault also with the custom of "calling her our hope and our
life, when such titles belong only to the Son of God." A re
ference to the account of his visit to Walsingham, from which
it appears very plainly that Erasmus is not to be considered
as a devout worshipper of the Virgin,* as well as to that noble
passage in which he expresses his wish that " the husband
man should sing some of the verses at his plough-tail, that
the weaver should sing them while throwing his shuttle, and
that the traveller should beguile a tedious journey with the
stories contained in them,"t shows very plainly that Berquin
was indebted to him for the opinions here ascribed to him.
Bedda, who shrank from attacking Berquin while he
assailed him with his wit, because he was one of the gentle
men of the Court, thought that he might safely do so when
he obtained undoubted evidence that he was propagating
through France those truths which were opposed to his own
* See pp. 111-124. t See p. 177.
BERQUIN COMMITTED TO AND RELEASED FROM PRISON. 329
prejudices, and distasteful to his own inclinations. Accord
ingly one day, when he was seated in his study, Bedda
entered with his emissaries, armed with a warrant of search
issued by the Parliament, and carried off the books, the un
questionable proofs of his heresy, which were scattered
around him. These were submitted by order of the Parlia
ment to the Theological Faculty, and having been reported
to be heretical, were consigned to the flames.
Berquin himself was now summoned before that formid
able body, and was ordered to recant. But he was not
faint-hearted nor irresolute. He displayed the same
Christian heroism as those martyrs and confessors who, by
their constancy even unto death, have shed an undying
glory on the annals of Christianity. He showed the reality
of his religion by answering each threat of condign punish
ment with the expression of a firmer determination to
hold to the end his religious opinions. To use the words
of Erasmus, "Berquin somewhat resembled the palm-
tree ; he rose again, and displayed a proud and towering
spirit against all who sought to frighten him."* But the
Parliament was determined, if possible, to treat him with
merciless rigour. He was first of all sent to their own
prison, and afterwards, having been handed over to the
Bishop of Paris, was transferred to the prison of the
ecclesiastical court. But Bedda was not permitted at this
time to work his will upon Berquin. The nobility exclaimed
that he was, by this imprisonment, infringing the privileges
of their order, and that in condemning the worship of the
Virgin, Berquin was only following the example of Erasmus
and many others. Francis I. was now induced to interpose
on his behalf. A messenger from the king appeared before
his prison, charged with an order for his release, which his
persecutors were obliged to obey. The King gained a
* D Aubigne s Hist. vol. ii. p. 567.
830 BERQUIN S DISAPPOINTMENT IN ERASMUS.
victory over the Church, beating down her sword as it was
about to be sheathed in the body of this faithful servant of
his Divine Master.
Berquin now began to entertain the confident expectation
that France might be induced to shake off the yoke of the
Pope. He determined that no effort on his part should be
wanting to effect her emancipation. "We find him now
writing to Erasmus, to whom he was personally unknown,
and expressing a hope that he would aid him in the
accomplishment of his object. But he had not yet learnt
that, on account of his timidity and indecision of character,
he was the very worst person to whom he could have
applied for aid in fighting his battles. The advice which
the philosopher gave him, so far from encouraging him, was
calculated to damp his ardour in the prosecution of his high
and holy enterprise. " Remember," he said, " not to pro
voke the wasps, and peaceably enjoy your own studies.
Above all, do not mix me up with your affairs, for this
would be of no service to you or to me."*
Berquin, however, was not easily daunted. Though a
thousand hostile forms thronged the path which he was
pursuing, he was still prepared to march forward. He
acted in the spirit of that noble declaration of St. Paul,
" What mean ye to weep and to break mine heart ? for I
am ready not to be bound only, but also to die at Jeru
salem for the name of the Lord Jesus ft If his religion
had not been real, he would now have violated his oath of
fealty to the King of Kings. But he was supported by
that hidden strength which God always supplies to His
servants in seasons of difficulty and danger. The disap
pointment which he experienced in Erasmus, who, after
having by his writings led him to engage in this struggle,
* Op. torn. iii. p. 1208, B. edit. Lugd.
t Acts xxi. 13.
HIS CONTINUED PKOPAGATION OF PROTESTANT BOOKS. 331
now showed, by the cowardly advice which he gave him,
that he wished to recede from the opinions which he had
formerly expressed, served to impress him with a deeper
conviction that he ought to cease altogether from man, and
that he ought to lean upon that Almighty arm which alone
could uphold him. He now lost no opportunity of assailing
the monks, and exposing their hypocrisy. This was the
real cause of their enmity to him. He also, as we learn
from a letter to John a Lasco, continued to translate and to
propagate the writings of Erasmus, " with a free spirit and
honest design." To these were added those of Luther, and
the " Common Places " of Melancthon. This circulation of
Protestant books was in fact his great offence in the
opinion of JBedda and his associates ; but they did not dare
in the first instance to bring it prominently forward, be
cause they knew that the King was a great patron of litera
ture. We find that Bedda had influence enough with the
Parliament at the time of the captivity of Francis I., after
the battle of Pavia, to induce the members of that body
again to cast him into prison. In vain was he urged by
many to recant ; he declared that he would not yield on a
single point. It seemed then as if there were no alterna
tive but that he should expiate his offence at the stake.
But now Margaret of Valois, the sister of Francis I.,
came to his aid. She had learnt the opinions of the Re
formers from their works, which were now being circulated
through France. Her beautiful religious poetry shows
that she was deeply grieved on account of the manner in
which she had treated the scandals of the age in which she
lived. The heavenly plant at this time flourished and
expanded amid the sickly and tainted atmosphere of a
Court. She was now full of alarm about Berquin. She
therefore wrote to her brother to solicit his pardon. Eras
mus speaks of his danger, as well as of the result of her ap-
332 HIS DEATH.
plication on his behalf in the letter to John a Lasco already
referred to. "His translation of my writings has been
profitable neither to him nor to me. Twice he was in
danger of losing his life by it, and he would certainly have
perished by the mercy of the monks, if the King had not
rescued him." On his return to Paris, after his captivity,
he issued an order for Berquin s release.
After this time he continued at Paris for three years,
till 1529, disseminating the writings of Erasmus. Unfor
tunately the profane mutilation of a statue exasperated
Francis. The sad tragedy which followed shall be de
scribed in the words of Erasmus.* " I have heard that the
power of passing sentence on him was given to twelve
chosen judges. It was that his books should be burnt ;
that he should be called upon to abjure ; that his tongue
should be pierced ; and that he should be imprisoned for
life. On hearing this sentence, which was severe beyond
his expectation, he appealed to the King and the Pope.
The judges, enraged at this announcement, told him that
as he would not submit to their sentence, he should never
again be able to appeal to any one. The next day they
ordered him to be committed to the flames. It is said that
the principal charge against him was that he had stated in
his writings, contrary to the decree of Parliament, that it
was desirable, with a view to the advancement of true re
ligion, that the Bible should be translated into the vulgar
tongue, and should be read by the people. Six hundred
soldiers were ordered out to prevent a tumult. Neither
his look nor his manner indicated the least discompo
sure. He seemed like one in his library, absorbed in his
studies, or in a church, meditating on heavenly things.
Not even when the executioner with a harsh voice pro
claimed his crime and his punishment, did he seem to lose
* Letter to a friend, translated from a note in Jortin, vol. i. p. 476.
COLD LETTEE OP ERASMUS ABOUT HIM. 333
any of his firmness. When he was told to come down
from the carriage, he obeyed without the least hesitation.
He did not show any of that audacity or ferocity which
wickedness sometimes engenders in malefactors. The
calmness of his countenance indicated a self-approving
conscience. Before his death he made an address to the
people. No one, however, could hear a word of it on ac
count of the loud groans of the soldiers. While he was
being suffocated by the smoke, no one in the crowd called
out the name of Jesus, as is usually done in the case
even of parricides and profane wretches. The reason was
that those men who are everywhere, and have great in
fluence with simple and ignorant people, had turned the
minds of all against him. A certain Franciscan asked him
in his dying moments whether he recanted. This man de
clares that he did so, and asserts that he has not
the least doubt that his soul departed in peace. But
1 do not believe him. You have now heard the account of
the death of Berquin, for which he seems to have been
born. I cannot give an opinion on the cause of his death,
because it is altogether unknown to me. I grieve for him
if he has not deserved punishment. If he has deserved it,
I grieve the more. For it is better that an innocent man
should die, than one who is guilty. I have not the least
doubt that he had persuaded himself that he was in the right.
This persuasion would account for his calm look."
We cannot fail to observe the lamentable coldness of this
letter. We should have thought that he would have been
full of righteous indignation against his persecutors, espe
cially when we remember that he, by his writings, had been
greatly instrumental in bringing him to the stake. We find
him, however, not only concealing the share which he had
in his death, but even expressing himself thus in a letter to
o34< COWARDICE OF ERASMUS.
& friend, Agrippa :* " I often endeavoured to persuade him
to be careful to disentangle himself from that matter ; but
he deluded himself with the expectation of victory. If
you cannot hope to avoid exposing yourself to the dangers
of war, take care that you fight from a tower, and do not
come to close quarters. Especially be careful not to mix
me up with this business. I asked Berquin to give me the
same promise ; but he was deceived, because he thought more
of his own courage than of my advice. You see how the
matter has ended. There would not have been the least
danger if he had listened to me. I often told him that the
divines and the monks could not be conquered, even if he had
a better cause than St. Paul." Once, indeed, Erasmus had
had the courage to condemn the sacrifice of two Augus-
tinian monks whom Egmont and Hochstrat caused to be
burnt at Brussels, and foretold that " the blood of the mar
tyrs would be the seed " of the Lutheran church. t But
since that time he had been gradually receding farther and
farther from the position which he occupied. Now the
trumpet gives an uncertain sound. He speaks with a hesi
tating utterance. He fears that he shall involve himself in
difficulty and danger by making common cause with one
against whom the Church of Rome had fulminated her ana
themas ; thus presenting a remarkable contrast to one whom
he has described in the preceding letter as exhibiting a holy
tranquillity, even when death was approaching in his most
forbidding form, heralded by the dark executioners of his
mandates.
I regret to say that soon after this time Erasmus pub
lished an " Apology," the opinions expressed in which are
not very creditable to him. It is called " A Letter against
certain Professors of the Gospel, falsely so named. "J The
* Jortin s "Life," vol. ii. p. 470. f Ibid. vol. i. p. 325.
t Op. torn. x. p. 1573, edit. Lugd.
HIS ATTACK ON THE REFORMERS. 335
person to wliom it was addressed was G-erardus Noviomagus,
or Geldenhaur, a zealous Lutheran, who was originally one
of his intimate friends. Inflamed with anger against
Erasmus because he had once been inclined to that party,
and had not only abandoned it, but also contributed to
exasperate the Roman Catholics against it, he exposed his
inconsistency in several publications, and in particular
charged him with having maintained that it was unlawful
to put heretics to death. Erasmus, afraid lest the persecut
ing princes whom he numbered amongst his patrons should
imagine that he was condemning the atrocities which they
were now constantly perpetrating, made an absurd distinc
tion between different heretics, and said that he did not
intend to restrain the civil magistrates from putting blas
phemers to death. It was a fault, he said, to drag men to
the fire for every error ; but it was wrong to contend that
no heretic whatever ought to be put to death by the civil
magistrate. He now brings against the Reformers various
charges. He says that " the primitive Christians recom
mended their doctrine by mildness, and simplicity of man
ners, and by patience in bearing injuries, whereas the socie
ties of the Reformers abounded with adulterers, drunkards,
gamesters, and spendthrifts." In a strain of banter he charges
them with having madeRomanists more formidable than ever.
l Formerly," he observes, " we might discuss various ques
tions, as the power of the Pope, purgatory, &c.; now we
must not open our mouths even on those great truths, the
discussion of which tends to edification. We are compelled,
too, to believe that a man can perform by himself meritori
ous works ; that he deserves eternal life by his good deeds ;
that the Blessed Virgin can order the Son who reigns with
the Father to listen to our prayers, and many other things
which men of a pious mind cannot endure to hear. For
merly no one attacked you if you ate flesh in private ; now
if from a regard to your health you taste even an egg in
336 HIS ATTACK ON THE KEFOKMEKS.
Lent, you are dragged as a heretic to prison, and have to
answer for your life. Formerly we might even spit at
monks and divines ; but now you have given to these men
so much power, that it is a capital offence to utter a word
against them. Formerly the ordination of clerks protected
them from the rigour of the civil tribunal ; now priests, as
well as those who follow a mean trade for gain, are tortured,
are beaten, are hanged, are beheaded, are burnt by the
public executioner, without being degraded. Such are the
auspicious circumstances in connection with the revival of
your gospel. You yourselves can judge best what other
evils are coming upon us."
All right-minded persons will be grieved when they find
Erasmus writing in this tone. They cannot fail to pro
nounce a distinct and emphatic condemnation on that
fear of man which led him to stifle his conscientious convic
tions, and to abstain from discussing and opposing dogmas
which are condemned alike by reason and revelation. It
is hard to believe, that with his latitudinarian views, he
really held the opinion that it is lawful to put heretics to
death ; and it was probably only his determination to retain,
at any cost, the favour of his powerful patrons, that in
duced him so far to yield to the spirit of the age as to
profess the doctrine. He seems to have forgotten that
if he had been seized by the monks, he might have been
judged out of his own mouth ; and that, unless he had re
canted, he would have breathed out his soul in the burning
fiery furnace amid the shouts and revilings of assembled
multitudes.
The Protestant clergy of Strasburg made a reply to the
charges of Erasmus. Upon reading it, he became very
much embittered against the Eeformers, and published an
answer addressed to the brethren of Lower Germany,
far more violent than the preceding " Apology."* "I
* Op. torn. x. p. 1589, edit. Lugd.
HIS EXTENUATION OP THE SINS OP THE CLERO-Y. 337
knew a person," he writes, " whom for more than ten years
I loved as if he had been my own son. He seemed to have
a good disposition ; but as soon as he had a small portion of
the evangelical spirit, he began, contrary to all expectation,
to be a good player at dice, a sitter up all night at cards,
and a man of an elegant taste for bad women." He men
tions another, " one of the heads of the gospel party, a man
against whom I have never said a word, who, not content with
wounding my character in conversation, has written a
pamphlet against me, which he reads to his drinking com
panions !" "In matters of business," he adds, " I have
found the gospellers more unfeeling, and less to be trusted
than other people, and I am acquainted with some of the
Roman Catholic bishops whose sanctity I prefer to that of
a thousand of the new sectaries."
He concludes in the following manner : " Objections are
made to the bad lives of the priests ; the tyranny of the
Papal decrees is exaggerated ; the evil practices of the
monks are exposed, and promises of liberty are made.
This is the bait, but take care lest there be found lurk-
ingl under it a steel- hook, which may entangle you, and
prove your destruction. What greater folly than to show
your hatred to priests and wicked monks in such a man
ner as to render them no better, and to make yourselves
worse than they are ! For there is no sin worse than
heresy and schism. Be it granted that luxury, lewdness,
ambition, avarice, and every other crime, may all be found in
one single priest; heresy is, however, worse than all this
aggregate of vices In our anger against ecclesiastics
let us never forget that they are such Let Christ
make a reform through the medium of Charles V., an Em
peror eminent for his power, eminent for his clemency, and
equally eminent for his religion. The co-operation of the
German princes may be depended on ; and there are many
22
338 THE SINS OF SOME REFORMERS CENSURED.
circumstances which induce us to entertain a good hope
that the thoughts of the Pope are turned the same way. . . .
No reformation .of the Church will be successful which
does not begin with our rulers. The Pope alone, with
the Emperor, can effect it ; and unless appearances
deceive us, Christ has disposed their minds to this good
work."
This extenuation* of the wickedness of the clergy, and the
tone of delight, instead of pity, in which he speaks of the sins
of the Eeforrners, deserve the strongest condemnation. It is
manifest, when he brings railing accusations against the
latter, that he could not help feeling that many of the
Romanists were the slaves of every vice. He admits that
this was the case in a letter to be given immediately. I
regret to say that some of the Reformers answered to the
description of them here given. But many, as Erasmus
knew, were strict in their fulfilment of every social and
relative obligation. The former inflicted a great injury on
the cause of the Reformation. Erasmus, amongst others,
was led to ask himself what could be the value of their
principles, when their practice was diametrically opposed to
the plainest precepts of the Gospel. Thus the Saviour was
wounded in the house of His friends. Thus some, like
Erasmus, not only refused to become standard bearers, or
to enlist in the army of the Reformers, but even were
led to labour to raze to its foundation the fabric of Pro
testantism.
We might suppose from the preceding letter that Eras
mus had a very high opinion of the Pope and the Emperor.
But only six months afterwards he contradicts the opinions
here expressed. He wrote to Matthias Kretzer to this effect.*
" That the Emperor was very angry, and that there were
* Op. torn. iii. p. 1018, edit. Bas.
ERASMUS CONDEMNS THE POPE AND CLERGY. 339
those who were throwing oil into the fire ;* that some who
wore purple gowns did much mischief by their conduct, for
though they must be well aware that the luxury and pride
of the clergy had been the chief cause of the present dis
sensions, yet they lived in incredible pomp, revelling and
sometimes playing at dice all night, and not even taking
care to keep their evil conduct from the knowledge of the
world ; that the haughtiness, not to say the tyranny, of the
ecclesiastics, was increasing ; their wealth and luxury were
also increasing, and there was not the least diminution of
their thirst after these things. It was . not for him,"
Erasmus said, " to judge the Pope, but those who came
from Italy told things which he was grieved to hear.
How cruelly had he treated Florence ! As far as he could
see, the Pope, by the help of the princes, and by augment
ing the number of his cardinals, was endeavouring to pre
vent every attempt at reformation. And what was all this
but to provoke God more and more ?"
A symbolical representation, exhibited before Charles V.
and his brother Ferdinand, at Augsburg, in 1530, at the
time when the Lutherans presented their celebrated confes
sion of faith to the Diet assembled in that city, gives so
just a view of the character and motives of Erasmus, as
well as of the other actors in the drama, that I shall not
scruple to bring it before the notice of my readers. Eras
mus had been summoned to the Diet, but he could not
attend it on account of his health. He was glad of the
excuse, for he says that he could not have come there but
at the risk of his life.t He wrote an answer to Cardinal
Campeggio to protest against settling questions of doctrine
by the sword. J The following is the account of the repre-
* He here refers to the Pope, who, with the aid of the Emperor,
was endeavouring to crush the Reformers. Jortin, vol. i. p. 506.
t Op. torn. iii. p. 1152, edit. Lugd. J Ibid. p. 1117.
222
340 COMEDY ACTED BEFORE CHARLES V.
sentation.* "As the princes were at table, some persons
offered to act a small comedy for the entertainment of the
company. They were ordered to begin ; when first entered
a man in the dress of a doctor, who brought a large quan
tity of small wood, of straight and crooked billets, and laid
it on the middle of the hearth, and retired. On his back
was written the name of Reuchlin. When this actor went
off another entered, apparelled also like a doctor, who
attempted to make faggots of the wood, and to fit the
crooked to the straight; but having laboured long to no
purpose, he went away out of humour, and shaking his
head. On his back appeared the name of Erasmus. A
third, dressed like an Augustinian monk, came in, with a
chafing dish full of fire, gathered up the crooked wood, put
it on the fire, and blew till he made it burn, having on his
frock the name of Luther. A fourth entered, dressed like
the Emperor, who, seeing the crooked wood all on fire,
seemed much concerned, and in order to put it out, drew
his sword and poked the fire with it, which only made it
burn brisker. On his back was written the name of
Charles V. Lastly, a fifth entered in his pontifical habit
and triple crown, who seemed extremely surprised to see
the crooked billets all on fire, and by his countenance and
attitude betrayed excessive grief. Then, looking out on
every side to see if he could find any water to extinguish
the flames, he cast his eyes on two bottles in a corner of
the room, one of which was full of oil, and the other of
water, and in his hurry he unfortunately seized on the oil
and poured it on the fire, which made it blaze so violently,
that he was forced to walk off. On his back was written
Leo X."
" This little farce," as Jortin observes, " wanted no com-
* Jortin s "Life," vol. i. p. 585.
JORTIN S OBSERVATIONS UPON IT. 341
mentary ; but if the actors had taken it into their heads to
represent the whole conduct of Erasmus, they should have
introduced him a second time, and have represented him as
constrained by the menaces of Leo X, to take up the
straight wood and burn it along with the crooked."
342 ERASMUS REVILED BY THE ROMANISTS.
CHAPTER XII.
LOSS OF FRIENDS BY DEATH. LAST YEARS. CHARACTER.
(A.D. 1530-1536.)
THE latter part of the life -of Erasmus which I have now
described, was embittered by the reflection that he had lost
the esteem arid confidence of both the contending parties.
On the one hand, he could not, by his recantation, satisfy
the Roman Catholics, who declared that he had, by his pub
lications, inflicted great injury on the Church. A doctor
at Constance kept his picture for no other purpose than
that when he passed it he might spit upon it, and on being
asked why he treated him with this contempt, answered
that Erasmus was the cause of all the mischief in the world.
His enemies did not hesitate to propagate lies respecting
him. One said that he had died of a terrible distemper,
another, that he had been at his funeral, another, that his
books and pictures had been burnt publicly at Rome. They
called him also Errasmus, as made up of errors ; Erasinus, ab
asino ; a monster, and therefore Behemoth.* It appears
from a letter of Henry VIII. to him, in 1528, already
referred to, in which he invited him to return to his king
dom, "that he was in danger of his life from them, and
that he was nowhere safe from their malice." Convinced
* Knight s "Life, "p. 328.
HIS DEEP MELANCHOLY. 343
that learning was fatal to their power over the people, they
represented Erasmus, the great promoter of its revival,
and Luther, as equally enemies to the Church, hoping that
they would be involved in the same ruin. We often find
him in his letters declaring, in answer to them, that the
cause of literature had no connection with Lutheranism.
On the other hand, the Protestants bitterly accused him,
and asserted, not without some appearance of reason, that
if he had been true to his convictions, and had been less
timid, his wonderful reputation would have given to the
Reformers the same influence with the learned and refined,
which they had secured for themselves with the multitude,
so that every one on this side of the Alps would have cast
off the usurped dominion of the Roman Pontiff.
We can easily imagine that Erasmus suffered severely
from this opposition. He loved popularity, and yet he was
more abused than any one in Europe. He loved peace ; and
yet he had the din of angry controversy constantly sounding
in his ears. He now went heavily all the day in the bitter
ness of his soul. A dense and dismal darkness brooded over
his spirit. "In the morning he said, Would God it were
even ! and at even he said, Would God it were morning!"
He no longer found any pleasure in that converse with the
Muses which originally constituted one of the principal
sources of his happiness. His wan and wasted countenance,
his dejected air, his sleepless nights, his neglect of his daily
food, his downcast look, the longing for death which he
often expressed to his friends, afforded sad evidence that an
anguish had taken possession of his soul, which surpasses
all description. How different would have been the case if
he had sought God s grace to enable him to conquer that
" fear of man which bringeth a snare," and to act up to his
conscientious convictions ! He would then have possessed a
holy serenity of soul which would have formed a strange
844 DEATH OF ARCHBISHOP "WAEHAM AND PIRCKHEIMEK.
contrast to the storm which was raging furiously around
him. The ties by which he was bound to the high and
mighty ones of the earth, to the friends of his youth, and
to the companions of his riper years, might have been
severed , but not so those ties by which he was united to
"God, the Judge of all, and to the spirits of just men made
perfect, and to Jesus, the mediator of the new covenant."
He would not have been left desolate ; Christ Himself would
have been an "exceeding joy" to him in the midst of his
tribulation. When abandoned by all whose friendship and
patronage he had hitherto prized so highly, he would have
been sustained by the sympathy of his Almighty Saviour ;
he would have been cheered by the assurance that He
would support him by His presence in his passage through
this world of trial and temptation, and that He would at
length vindicate his cause before an assembled uni
verse.
Erasmus was now often painfully reminded of that solemn
hour when the " dust shall return to the earth as it was,
and the spirit shall return unto God who gave it." He now
saw his friends and patrons, the objects of his heart s best
affections, fleeting like leaves before the autumnal blast. In
the first month of 1532, he lost his valued friend Pirckheimer.
Then he was called upon to pay the tribute of a tear to the
memory of his friend Warham. In 1532 "he came to his
grave in a full age, like as a shock of corn cometh in
in his season." We have already seen how much Erasmus
was indebted to him for his patronage. On one occasion
he says that he had received so much from Warham, that
it would be scandalous to take more of him even if he
should offer it. He had, as we have seen, saddled the living
of Aldington with a payment of twenty pounds a year to
him, to which he had added twenty pounds from his own
private purse. Thus endowed, Erasmus had an income from
LETTERS TO AND FROM WARHAM. 345
England alone equivalent to four hundred pounds
a year in the present day.*
The following extracts from a letter addressed from
Cambridge to Warham, and from another sent by the
Archbishop in reply, will serve to show 7 the footing of easy,
yet respectful familiarity on which he stood with him. He
has informed us elsewhere that Warham was wont to
place himself on an equality with his guests, while by his
manner he showed that no one was to take a liberty with
him, or with any of his companions. The letters con
tain much wit and humour, though they are coarse,
after the manner of the age.
" Your Erasmus has a dangerous and terrible fit of the
stone, which has cast him into the hands of doctors and
apothecaries, that is, of butchers and harpies. I am still in
labour : I feel the pangs within me. ... I think that this
pain is owing to the drinking of beer, which for several
days I have been forced to use instead of wine. These are
the unhappy fruits of a war with France."t
The Archbishop sent the following facetious reply : " I
hope that you are purged of , your gravel and stones, the
rather because the Feast of the Purgation of the Virgin
Mary is lately over. What mean these stones in your body 1
What is it you would build upon this rock? I cannot think
that you design a noble house or any edifice of this kind.
And therefore, since you have no occasion for your
stones, pray part w r ith them as soon as you can ; and give
any money to carry them off. I will gladly give money to
bring them to my buildings. That you may do so the
more easily, and not be wanting to yourself, I have senfc
you by a London goldsmith s son thirty nobles, which I
would have you change into ten legions, to help to drive
* Hook s "Lives of the Archbishops of Canterbury," vol. i.p. 325.
t Op. torn. iii. p. 429, edit. Bas.
346 WARHAM S DISINTERESTEDNESS.
away the distemper. Gold is a good medicine, and has a
great deal of virtue in it. Apply it to the recovery of your
health, which I would be glad to purchase for you at a
higher price. For I know that you have a great many
excellent works to publish, which cannot be finished
without health and strength."*
The Archbishop had a very high opinion of Erasmus.
He says in a letter to him, that he was very grateful to him.
for the immortality which he had conferred upon him ; for
the mention of him in his works would secure for him " an
honour denied to the mightiest kings, and would perpetuate
his name to the remotest generations. "t
Erasmus states in a letter to More, that though Warham had
held the highest offices in Church and State, he had so little
attended to his own advantage, that at the time of his
death he had only left enough to pay his debts and funeral
expenses. It is said that shortly before his death he asked
his steward what money he had in his hands. On hearing
that he had only thirty pounds, he cheerfully answered,
" Satis viatici ad ccelum " It is enough to last me to hea
ven." Erasmus, in the same letter, states that his straitened
circumstances were the reason that he had not received so
much from him towards the close of his life, as he had in
the earlier part of it ; and mentions also that Archbishop
Cranmer had told him that he should never miss his former
great patron.J
The following extracts from his works show that Eras
mus thought very highly of the Archbishop. Writing to
the Abbot of St. Bertin, he says : "Of those who are kind
to me, I give the first place to Warham, Archbishop of
Canterbury. What genius, what copiousness, what viva
city ! What facility in the most complicated discussions !
* Op. torn. iii. p. 275, edit. Bas. + Ibid. p. 76.
J Knight s "Life, "p. 234.
ERASMUS S EULQGIUM ON WARHAM. 347
What erudition, what politeness ! From Warham none
ever parted in sorrow. His behaviour would do honour to
a monarch. With all these qualities, how great is his hu
mility ! how edifying his modesty ! He alone is ignorant
of his eminence. No one is more faithful or consistent in
friendship. In fine he is a true Primate, not only in rank,
but in every kind of merit."*
He thus speaks of him in his " Ecclesiastes," which, as we
shall see presently, was published after the Archbishop s
death, so that the eulogium which he here pronounces upon
him, could not have been prompted by the hope of reward. t
" He was raised to be the head of the Church of Canter
bury, which ranks foremost in dignity in that island. To this
charge, exceedingly burdensome in itself, was added another
still more so. He was obliged to undertake the office of
Chancellor, which indeed, with the English, is truly royal.
That office hefilledwith so much skill for many years, that you
would have supposed that he was born for that very business,
and held no other charge. But at the same time he was so vig
ilant and attentive in matters relating to religion and his ec
clesiastical functions, that you would have imagined that he
was engaged in no external concerns. He found sufficient time
to discharge religiously the solemn duties of prayer, to per
form mass almost daily, to be present besides at two or three
services, to hear causes, to receive embassies, to advise the
king if anything of importance had arisen in Court, to visit
his churches wherever his presence was required, to receive
his guests, often amounting to 200 ; and lastly his leisure was
given to reading. For occupations so various he found one life
sufficient, no part of which he bestowed on hunting, none on
dice, none on empty talk, none on luxury or pleasure. Though
he had sometimes bishops, dukes, earls, as his guests, yet
* Op. torn. iii. p. 118, edit. Lugd.
t Op. toin. v. p. 641, edit. Bas.
348 ERASMUS S EULOGIUM ON WARHAM.
dinner was always finished in the space of an hour. He
took the smallest quantity of food ; and, with the kind
ness of his looks, and the cheerfulness of his discourse,
enlivened the whole table. If he had no company for
supper, he spent the time of supper either in prayer or
reading. He was pleased with the free jests of his friends,
but shrank from detraction as any one would do from a
serpent. Thus this excellent man made those days always
long, of the shortness of which so many complain."
This picture of Warham is too highly coloured. Grati
tude for benefits conferred, no doubt led Erasmus to exag
gerate his merits. He was an easy man, anxious during
the latter part of his life to live quietly, and to enjoy the
otium cum dignitate of the Archbishopric. His abilities
were certainly remarkable ; but he wanted that genius
which enables a man by intuition to see which is the right
course to pursue in circumstances of peculiar difficulty and
perplexity. In all probability he would have occupied a
higher place in the estimation of posterity, if the transcen
dent abilities of Wolsey had not cast him into the shade.
He was a great friend to the new learning, and extended
his patronage to all who, like Erasmus, endeavoured to ad
vance it. The learned men who were his guests in his
manor houses, always found him ready to give and to
receive information. He was certainly more super
stitious than Erasmus. He was more inclined also to
mysticism than scholasticism. To a certain extent he was
a reformer ; but he aimed at the reformation of the clergy,
instead of beginning as he ought to have begun, with the
reformation of the Church. Dean Colet was appointed by
him as the preacher before convocation in 1512, in order
that he might, as the first step to a reformation, expose to
the public view their avarice, their worldly mindedness,
their carnal ease, and their self-indulgence. Both he and
OBSERVATIONS ON THE CHARACTER, GIVEN TO HIM. 349
Erasmus thought that a reformation could be effected only
by unfolding the meaning of the Bible in a new and im
proved translation to the leading men of the day, in order
that they might by degrees discover and correct the errors
in doctrine and practice which he firmly believed to exist.
But Warham differed from him in thinking that a know
ledge of the Scriptures should not, for the present at least, be
universally diffused, for he imagined that the consequence
of constituting the people judges of the reformation required,
would be that they would be carried away by revolutionary
fanaticism, and would be guilty of the wildest excesses,
which would be prejudicial to the best interests of human
society. Hence, while he strongly approved of Erasmus s
translation into Latin, which was intended only for the
learned, he disapproved of, and sought to suppress Tyndal s
translation designed to enable his fellow-countrymen to
read in their own tongue the wonderful works of God. He
thought that the reformation should be carried on gradually
by persons in authority ; and wished the reading of the
Word of God to be confined to a few who would use it for
devotional purposes, not as a means of enabling them to sit
in judgment on the teaching of the " infallible " doctors of
the Church.
I admit the general accuracy of the character given
by Erasmus, and I may add that he was generous in
his donations to needy friends ; and that he often rewarded
those who flattered him, or rendered to him personal ser
vices. I must state also that he was economical; and
that he required a strict account from his retinue, of
the most trifling expenditure. With all his desire for
reform, he was still a Romanist. He denied, as I
have said, the right of all the people to read, and to
exercise their private judgment in the interpretation of
Holy Scripture, the fundamental doctrine of Protestantism ;
350 WAEHAM STILL A ROMANIST.
lie accepted the opus operatum to its fullest extent,
and lie believed in the doctrine of purgatory, for he
became the Papal collector of tolls in this country
in the matter of indulgences. Fuller, no doubt, speaks
the truth when he calls him " a still and silent persecutor
of poor Christians," for, as Fox informs us, in the year 1511
he caused one John Brown of Ashford in Kent to be cruelly
tortured by having his bare feet placed on burning coals
till they were burnt to the bones, and then to be committed
to the flames because he refused to recant ;* and afterwards
he compelled six men at Knowle to do penance, and to go
in procession carrying a faggot to show that they had in
curred the highest penalty of the law, for asserting what
all Protestants ought to maintain, that confession to a
priest is unnecessary, and that the consecrated elements are
not the body and blood of Christ, but material bread and
wine.t We know also that he was an enemy to the Ee-
formers, for he drew up, and persuaded the King to issue a
proclamation, enjoining his lords spiritual and temporal
and all who held high office to assist in suppressing publica
tions and in silencing preachers " who inculcate anything
contrary to the determination of the Catholic faith, and the
definitions of Holy Church. "J
We doubt not that Warham s death was the means of
directing the thoughts of Erasmus to the hour which, he
felt, could not be far distant, when his own dilapidated
tabernacle should fall into ruins. We learn that he was
engaged in meditation on the subject of preparation for
death, from a letter written in 1533, from Friburg to
* Fox s "History of Christian Martyrdom," with Notes by Rev.
J. Milner. New edition, London, 1838, vol. i. p. 479.
t Hook s " Lives of the Archbishops of Canterbury," vol. i, new-
series, p. 281.
Ibid, p. 340.
THE EARL OF WILTSHIRE AND ORMOKD. 351
Thomas, Lord Viscount Kochford, formerly Sir Thomas
Boleyn, and afterwards, when his unfortunate daughter
became the King s consort, Earl of Wiltshire and Ormond.
Erasmus had previously, in compliance with his re
quest, written an exposition of the twenty-second Psalm,
which he dedicated to him.* He mentions him as a re
markable instance of a man who, though rich, nobly de
scended, connected with royalty, surrounded with glittering
vanities, and breathing the tainted atmosphere of a court,
could yet rise to his high destinies, seek the imperishable
riches, and become a candidate for the unfading crown.
Erasmus told him that he had himself derived much
benefit from the preparation of this little work. He had
further, in compliance with his request, drawn up an expo
sition of the Apostles creed, for the use of those who w r ere
not sufficiently acquainted with the first principles of Chris
tianity. And now he asked Erasmus to engage on a third
work on " Preparation for Death."f The latter addresses
him in a dedicatory epistle, as a man more illustrious for
his piety than for the ornamental appendages which fortune
had conferred upon him. He then refers to the subject just
mentioned ; " This," he says, " is the last act of human life,
as of a play ; upon it depends our eternal happiness or
misery. Tiiis is the last conflict with the enemy, from
which the soldier of Christ may expect an everlasting tri
umph, if he should prove a conqueror ; everlasting shame
if he should be cast down in the warfare. I was fully occu
pied with this subject, when your urgent request came to
me, as a sort of spur to a running man. I was then medi
tating on it for my own benefit. Your pious zeal, however,
will be the means of making the fruit of my meditation
profitable to many. ... I pray that the God of grace may
* Op. torn. v. p. 263, edit. Bas. f Ibid. p. 1081.
352 THE LOSS OF OTHER FEIENDS BY DEATH.
give a blessing to your prayers, and to my labours." We
trust that this last prayer was answered. Erasmus and his
noble friend would need heavenly consolations to support
them, not only afterwards, in the hour of their departure, but
also previously when they heard, the one, that the heads of
his daughter, Anne Boleyn, and of his son George, Lord
Koch ford, the other, that the heads of his friends More and
Fisher, in obedience to the mandate of Henry, had rolled
on the scaffold.
These two eminent men perished by the stroke of the
executioner, within a few days of each other, in 1535.
Their offence was the same. They were quite willing to
swear to the Act which secured the succession to the chil
dren of Anne Boleyn, but not to its preamble, which main
tained the lawfulness of the divorce. Lord Mountjoy had
died the year before. Thus the ruthless hand of death sepa
rated Erasmus nearly at the same time from four men with
whom his heart s best affections were entwined. He makes
a touching allusion to their death, in the treatise called
" Ecclesiastes."* " We lament the loss of our merchandise
in a shipwreck. What merchandise, however, is so precious
as to admit of comparison with a real friend ? Surely then
the present time has been very cruel to me, inasmuch as it
has deprived me of greatly valued friends ; first of all of
William Warham, Archbishop of Canterbury, and lately of
William Mountjoy, the Bishop of Rochester, and Thomas
More, whose breast was whiter than snow, to whom in
point of genius, England, though the parent of men of dis
tinguished ability, never has produced and never will pro
duce any one who bears the least resemblance."
More was indeed the light of his life, the very joy of his
existence. We have seen the high eulogium which he pro
nounces upon him in his letter to Hutten. They had only
* Op. torn. v. p. 642, edit. Bas.
MOKE S RESIGNATION OF THE CHANCELLORSHIP. 353
met occasionally, as I have said, in the course of the last
eighteen years, when More paid a hurried visit to the Con
tinent, but their correspondence had never ceased. The
affection which he felt for him could not be lessened by
time nor separation. Erasmus was not without his fears
that the elevation of More to the high dignity of Lord
Chancellor, after Wolsey, would prove fatal to him, because
he knew that he was strongly opposed to the divorce of
Queen Catherine. More, finding that his office involved
him in many difficulties, had often urged the King to accept
his resignation of the seals. At length he reluctantly con
sented to do so. More resigned in 1532, having held office
for three years and a half. He was so delighted with
having carried his point that he wrote to Erasmus to give
him the welcome intelligence, and to inform him that he
had returned to his beloved studies.* He added that he
should consider his happiness complete if he could hope to
have constant intercourse with a friend like himself before
his departure. He also states that he had been obliged to
resign his office and to live at ease, as his health had given
way in consequence of intense application to public busi
ness ; and adds that he could not undergo the same hercu
lean labours as Erasmus himself,t at which he expresses his
surprise, on account of the state of his health, and the
troubles of various kinds to which he was exposed. Eras
mus in reply said that he was rejoiced to hear that his
friend had gone into retirement ; but could not refrain from
expressing his fear that the King was quite aware of the
real reason for his resignation, and from adding that, to
use the words of Homer, monarchs dissemble their indig-
* Op. torn. iii. p. 1073, edit. Bas.
t In Holbein s picture of him, to which reference will presently
be made, there is written imder his hand this inscription
."
23
354< MORE IN THE BOSOM OF HIS FAMILY.
nation till the opportunity of revenging themselves shall
be afforded to them.*
Before the curtain falls after the last act of the tragedy,
I must bring on the stage More in the bosom of his happy
family. rt Erasmus had thus described them some years pre
viously in a letter to Budeeus.t " He has taken care that all
of them should be trained from their tender years, first reli
giously, next in polite literature. More and I determined
that they should show us what progress they had made in
the latter. He told them all to write to me, and that they
were to have no assistance in doing so. They were not to-
be supplied with the subject-matter, and no verbal correc
tions were to be made You will believe me when I
say that I was never so much pleased in my life. There
was nothing in the sense at all trifling or puerile. In
their language you might at once see that they were im
proving daily. : . . . You will see in this house no one
idle, no one occupied about the trifles to which some
females are devoted. They are reading the works of
Livy, and have made so much progress that they can read
authors of this description without explanation, unless they
should happen to meet with a word which would give me,
or those like me, some difficulty. His wife, who has more
natural ability, and experience than learning, with wonder
ful tact- manages the whole party, prescribing to each of
them her task, and requiring her to show how she has per
formed it, not suffering any one to be idle, or to be occu
pied about trifles."
A few years afterwards he gave another description of
them. He informed a friend, John Faber, Bishop of Vienna,
that More had retired to Chelsea some time before his
troubles, and that he had " built on the banks of the
Thames, not far from London, a comfortable manor house,
* Knight s " Life," p. 23G. f Jortin s " Life," vol. ii. p. 360.
HANS HOLBEIN S PICTURE OF MORE AND HIS FAMILY. 355
neither mean nor magnificent," where he lived in close and
endearing intercourse with the members of his family.
"You might say," he continues, "that he had in his house
another academy of Plato if I did not insult him by the
comparison ; for in that academy they used to dispute con
cerning numbers and figures, sometimes concerning virtue
and morality. You might more properly call this house
the school and gymnasium of the Christian religion.
Though all the members of the family make piety the prin
cipal object of their concern, yet they find time for liberal
studies and for profitable reading. In that house the voice
of contention is never heard, no one is ever seen idle.
Every one does his duty with alacrity, and not without a
temperate cheerfulness. That distinguished man secures
the good order of his household not by overbearing and
harsh treatment, but by gentleness and kindness. All are
diligent in the discharge of their duties, and exhibit, while
engaged in them, a spirit of sobriety and cheerfulness.""
A picture of this family was painted in 1528 by the cele
brated Hans Holbein, who had been sent to More by
Erasmus, with a portrait of him which he had painted, and
whom More, after having kept him for two years in his
house, introduced to Henry VIII. t The latter was so
pleased with his excoiisite paintings that he sat to him
several times. He also painted more than one of his Queens.
More sent Holbein s sketch of the family picture to Eras
mus in return for his own. It is preserved in the Basle
Museum. J
* Op. torn. iii. p. 1811, edit. Lugd.
t He was painted in 1517 by Q. Matsys, afterwards by A. Durer,
and frequently during his stay at Basle by Holbein, previously t
152G.
J The picture itself is lost. The picture exhibited at Kensington
in I860, belonging to Mr. Winn, a descendant of the Ropers, is only
a good copy, though it then passed for the original.
232
356 MAEGAEET EOPEE.
But there is one member of this family, Margaret Roper,
who ought to be mentioned particularly, because Erasmus
had so exalted an opinion of her virtues and abilities that
he styled her, in a letter which he sent to her in acknow
ledgment of the above picture, "Britannia sua3 decus."
He told her that nothing could have given him greater plea
sure than to receive a picture in which a family so much
respected by him was so exactly delineated, especially since
the painter was one whom he had recommended to her
father. He added that though he knew every one in the
picture at first sight, yet he was more than ordinarily pleased
with her own likeness, which brought to his mind all her
excellent qualities.* She returned his compliment in an
elegant epistle, in which she tells him that she is pleased to
find that the piece is acceptable to him, and acknowledges
him as her preceptor, to whom she is for ever grateful.
Erasmus, while he wrote to all her brothers and sisters,
showed very plainly that she was his favourite ; for in one
of his letters he tells her that he was unable on account of
business and the state of his health to write to all her sis
ters, and that they must consider what he said to her as
addressed also to themselves. He also mentions her hus
band, mother, and brother as particularly deserving of his
friendship. t He dedicated, also, to her some hymns of
Prudentius. We are informed that she was a perfect
prodigy of learning. She and her father once turned two
declamations into Latin with so much elegance that no one
could say which was the best. This is the same Margaret
who, when her beloved father was being conducted back to
the Tower after his sentence, burst through the crowd of
spectators and soldiers who surrounded him, and clung to
him in speechless agony. Sir Thomas gave her a parting
kiss and said to her, " My dear Margaret, bear this calamity
* Op. torn. iii. p. 1232, edit. Lugd. + Ibid., p. 1048, edit. Bas.
THE TOMB PREPARED BY MORE AT CHELSEA. 35?
with patience, and do not any longer grieve for me. It is
the will of heaven, and therefore must be endured." After
having withdrawn from him for a short distance she again
rushed into his arms, when, while the tears ran down his
cheeks, he gave her his blessing, begged her prayers for
him, and took his farewell of her. History informs us that
even the .soldiers were moved to tears as they witnessed
the separation of two beings bound together by an affection
such as is not often witnessed here below.
Thus we see that death broke up that happy family. Sir
Thomas indulged the confident expectation that, as he had
been united to his two wives by the closest ties during his
life, so after death they would not be separated, and that
their bodies would moulder into dust together in the same
narrow resting-place. Erasmus informs his friend, John
Faber, in the letter just referred to, that More had prepared
a tomb for himself in the parish church of Chelsea, to
which he had removed the body of his former wife. He
adds, " On the wall may be seen a tablet containing an ac
count of the events of his life, and recording his intention,
which my friend has exactly described to me." More sent
to him a copy of the epitaph in the letter announcing his
intended resignation, an extract from which has just been
given. He states at the close of it in Latin elegiac verses,
that in it rests the body of his beloved wife, Joanna ; that
he intended it as the resting-place of himself and his pres
ent wife, Alice ; that the latter had the same affection for
her step-children which the former had for her own chil
dren ; and that the one was as much beloved by him as the
other. A prayer is added that the tomb and heaven may
unite them. " Thus," he says, "death will give us a bless
ing which we could not enjoy during life." But though
that epitaph, or rather a copy of it, may still be seen on the
wall of that red brick church on the bank of the Thames,
358 THE ALTERED VIEWS OF MORE AS TO ROMANISM.
at Chelsea, where More worshipped with his family, it does
not mark the spot where his ashes are enshrined. His wish
was not realized. The husband and the two wives, so
closely united during life, are not together awaiting the
summons to arise from their resting-place. His head was
procured from London Bridge by his daughter Margaret
after it had remained there fourteen days ; and having been,
in compliance with her request, placed in her arms after her
death, was buried with her in St. Dunstan s Church, Canter
bury. The body has been dissolved into its kindred dust
in some unknown spot.
Erasmus wept and watched in imagination around the
grave of his illustrious friend. They were united, as we
have seen, by ties of no common affection. The character
of the one bore a very close resemblance to that of the
other. More liked as much the wit of Erasmus, as the
spirit which pervaded his serious works. The eyes of both
of them had been opened to many of the abuses and cor
ruptions of Eomanism. Both were friendly to religious
toleration. To the truth of these assertions, in the case of
More, many passages in the "Utopia" bear ample and unequi
vocal testimony. Probably if More, like Erasmus, had died
earlier, he would have been reckoned among those, who,
though they never separated from the Church of Rome, had
endeavoured to heal that spiritual leprosy which she had
spread through all orders of human society. Afterwards
he exerted every effort to stay the progress of the Reforma
tion. In his " Supplication of the Souls in Purgatory," in
reply to a work called " The Supplication of the Beggars,"
which was very popular at the time, he became the decided
apologist of pilgrimages, image-worship, purgatoiy, and
other errors and abuses which he had ridiculed with Eras
mus in the early part of his career. He also took an active
part in forwarding the work of persecution. He even
MORE, A PERSECUTOR. 359
openly violated the act of Henry V., and inflicted a length
ened imprisonment on heretics who had been brought be
fore him. Many were by his orders whipped, cruelly racked,
and afterwards committed to the flames. Sometimes they
were accused of denying the corporal presence ; sometimes
of condemning strongly the character and habits of the
clergy an accusation which might with justice have been
brought against More himself in former years. Thus, as
Mr. Froude observes, "the philosopher of the Utopia, ,
the friend of Erasmus, whose life was of blameless beauty,
whose genius was cultivated to the highest attainable per
fection, was to prove to the world that the spirit of perse
cution is no peculiar attribute of the pedant, the bigot, or
the fanatic, but may co-exist with the fairest graces of the
human character."* I may add that he had hitherto
been more willing to endure than to inflict evil. Because
this was his temper, and this the principle on which he had
uniformly acted, because he was also in many points so far
beyond the age in which he lived, he has been more strongly
condemned for his intolerance than any of his contemporaries.
This great change in his views and feelings may be attrib
uted to the delusion under which he laboured, when he
witnessed the excesses of some amongst the Eeformers, es
pecially the frenzy of the Anabaptists in Germany, in
imagining that the principles of the whole body tended to
the subversion, not only of existing institutions, but even to
the dissolution of society into its original elements. Eras
mus, as we have seen, expressed similar apprehensions.
But in consequence of his higher position, and his more res
olute character, More had receded farther than his friend
from the opinions which he had previously expressed.
No doubt the motive which chiefly led him to burn here
tics alive was his assent to the dogma that belief in the
* Fronde s "History of England," vol. ii. p. 73.
360 KETUEN OF ERASMUS TO BASLE.
doctrines of the Eoman Catholic Church is indispensable
to salvation. He had been led to abandon the milder
principles of his youth, and looked upon heresy as the
worst offence of which a man could be guilty, worse even
than murder and parricide. Thus he came to the conclusion
that it was right to employ the most violent means for the
suppression of the opinions of the Keformers. That this
dogma is utterly wrong is proved by its intolerable conse
quences ; and that it has the worst possible effect upon the
human heart is shown by the fact that it destroyed the
natural gentleness of his character, which showed itself in
all his domestic relations, and led him. to think that he was
doing God service by writing his arguments on behalf of
Romanism in the blood of those who, if Christianity be not
a fable, were his very brothers.
Erasmus came to Basle in 1535 to superintend the publi
cation of his " Ecclesiastes," the book already referred to,
and to see if he could recover his health, and he returned
no more to Friburg. He intended to leave it altogether,
and to proceed to Brabant, to which he had been invited by
Mary, Queen Dowager of Hungary. This book, though it
will not form such a preacher as we require in modern days,
and though it is rather tedious, yet contains much which is
suited to all times and places. The following tale in the
first book, in which he condemns the theological pulpit
actors of the days in which he lived, will be found both
amusing and instructive.* It will serve to show that he
had no control over his sportive wit, even when writ
ing on serious subjects: "There was in Italy a preacher
called Eobert Liciensis, of whose life I choose to say no
thing. I shall only say that, if common report speaks true,
he had excellent talents for the pulpit. At first he had
* "Ecclesiastes," torn. v. p. 641, edit. Bas. Jortin s translation,,
vol. ii. p. 86.
TALE ABOUT A PULPIT ACTOR. 361
been one of those who called themselves Observants, an
honourable title by which they are distinguished from the
other orders of St. Francis. As this Order did not suit
him, he went to one of those called Conventuals, whose w T ay
of life is not so rigid. Being one day at an entertainment,,
where there was an Observant Vicar, a man of capacity,
piety, and gravity, he made his boast that he could draw
tears from his audience whenever he wished to do so. By
this speech he pretended to refute what the other had said
to him by way of reproof and reproach,, that his sermons-
produced no good effect, because they came not from his
heart, and because his life did not correspond with his doc
trine. From whom do you draw tears, he said, except
ing children and silly women V You, then/ said Liciensis,
who are so great a man, come to-morrow where I am to
preach, and be at such a place in the church where I can
observe you, and have a full sight of you, and if I do not
make you weep, I will give you a supper ; if I do, you shall
give one to me and this company. He did not mention the
word pay, because those people never touch money ; but
there was in the company a friend to the Franciscans, who
offered to be security for the Observants. On the follow
ing day he went and took the place which was appointed;
and then the preacher, after having represented the loving-
kindness and mercy of God, and the ingratitude and stub
bornness of those whom nothing can call to repentance and
to mutual love, began, as in the person of God, to address
himself to the human heart. heart ! said he, harder
than iron, harder than diamonds ; for even iron .will melt in
the fire, and the blood of a goat will dissolve a diamond ;
but I, do what I can, am not able to draw from thee one
single tear. He carried on his apostrophe with such pa
thetic vehemence, that at last the Vicar began to weep. As
soon as the preacher saw it, stretching forth his hand to-
362 PROPOSAL TO MAKE ERASMUS A CARDINAL.
wards him, he cried out, I have conquered. The audience
supposed that he still spoke in the person of God, applaud
ing himself, as it were, for his victory over those who could
not refrain from shedding tears. After this, at supper, as
the Conventual monk boasted of his success, the Observant
replied, smartly enough, * It was not your eloquence that
drew those tears, but the compassion which I then felt
for you, and a concern that one of such happy talents should
choose rather to serve the world than Jesus Christ. "
Soon after the time just referred to, the Pope, Paul III.,
made several learned men Cardinals. He is said to have
given them this preferment [partly because he had been
strongly condemned for having made his two young nephews
Cardinals in 1534, and partly also because he wished to
strengthen the See of Home against the Lutherans. He
wished to include Erasmus in the number. " But to my
promotion," says Erasmus,* " it was objected that my bad
state of health would make me unfit for that function, and
that my income was not sufficient ; for it is said, that by a
decree of the sacred college, none can be admitted whose
.annual revenues are less than three thousand ducats. So
at present they think of loading me with preferments, that
I may be qualified for the red hat. This is, as the proverb
says, l To dress a cat in a gown and petticoat. ; He de
clares that his health would not permit him to accept such
favours, and that he could scarcely move from his chamber
with safety ; and he refused everything which was offered
to him. The design was afterwards abandoned. The Pope,
however, in a brief dated August 1st, 1535, appointed him
Provost of the College of Canons, at Deventer, using very
flattering expressions. He declares that " bearing in mind
the piety and probity of Erasmus, his superiority in
and the good services which he had
* Op. torn. iii. p. 1508, edit. Lugd.
SYMPTOMS OP THE APPROACH OF DEATH. 363
rendered to the Apostolic See, in vigorously attacking the
deserters of the faith, he gives him the Provostship of De-
venter, in the diocese of Utrecht, vacant by the death of
John Vinchel, reputed to be worth six hundred florins
a-yearj that he gives it with great pleasure, and as an
earnest of the recompense which he intended to bestow
upon his virtue."" Erasmus indeed declared that he would
have nothing to do with preferments, and that, as the hour
of his death could not be far distant, he would not take
upon himself a burden which he had refused in the former
part of his life ; but the simple fact that it should have been
proposed to confer these honours upon him, as well as the
reasons given for the latter appointment, afford sad evidence
that he was not fulfilling the expectations formed of him in
the early part of his life, that he had in fact abandoned the
Reformation, and that he was now exerting every effort to
level with the ground the rising walls of the fabric of
Protestantism.
Erasmus now began to feel very plainly that the hour of
his death could not be far distant. Soon after his arrival
at Basle he was seized with a violent fit of the gout. From
this disorder he had suffered since the beginning of 1534. It
was attended with convulsions which very much weakened
him. He was able, however, to revise his letters, and to make
additions to them. While he was doing so, when he came to
any of his old friends, he said with much emotion, " Hie
mortuus est." Finding that his correspondents were more
of them dead than living, he burst into an agony of grief,
and exclaimed, " I desire not, if it please the Lord, to live
any longer." He was much affected at losing almost all
his friends in ten years. If those in England had not per
ished in the common course of nature, or by the hands of
the executioner, still they were altogether dead to himself ;
* Jortin, vol. i. p. G24.
364? HIS LAST LETTEE.
for they could not, in those dangerous days, carry on inter
course with him even through the imperfect medium of
epistolary correspondence. We shall easily understand
how it was that fearfulness and trembling had come upon
the inhabitants of the land, when we remember that in the
years 1535 and 153G the monasteries were dissolved, that
insurrections were breaking out which were with difficulty
quelled, that, as I have said, More, Fisher, Anne Boleyn,
and Lord Kochford, her brother, were beheaded, and that
if the breath of suspicion rested on any one, not even the
greatest public services could preserve him from falling a
victim to the caprice of an arbitrary monarch.
About the beginning of autumn he was attacked by
dysentery, so that for a whole month he was seldom out of
his bed, and only once over the threshold of his chamber.
While he was lying in agony he wrote a treatise "De Puritate
Ecclesias," and made a last effort to finish his work on Origen.
Thus we see that excruciating torture could not impose any
restraint upon his industry, nor damp his ardour in the pro
secution of his studies. In the summer he grew worse.
The last letter which we have from him is dated June 28.*
He subscribes it thus, Eras. Eot. cegra manu. It is a letter
to his old friend Goclenius, who had advised him to write
to a lady of the House of Nassau. " If you had known,"
he said, " exactly the state of my affairs, you would have
sent word to this lady that I had been obliged to depart
from Friburg on account of my bad health, with a design
to go to Bezanoon as soon as I had finished my Ecclesiastes/
that I might still continue in the Emperor s territories.
But my disease growing worse, I have been obliged to pass,
the winter at Basle ; for although I am here with my best
friends, and such as I could not have at Friburg, yet because
of the difference of religious sentiments, I should have been
* Jortin s "Life," vol. i. p. 57G.
HIS DEATH AND FUNEKAL. 365
glad to end my days elsewhere. I wish Brabant were
nearer at hand."
He had been, as I have said, suffering from dysentery,
and had seen plainly for some months that the time of his
departure could not be far distant. He foretold it again
three days, and then two days before his death. He told
Amerbach, Froben, and Episcopius, who came in to pay
him a visit, that in them he beheld Job s three friends, and
asked them smiling, why they had not rent their clothes,
and put ashes on their heads. He retained his speech and
reason to the last, and breathed out his soul in these ejacu
lations, " Mercy, sweet Jesus, how long ? Jesus, fountain of
mercy, have mercy on me." He died calmly at midnight on
July 12th, 1536, surrounded by friends who had made com
mon cause with Zuinglius and (Ecolampadius, without one
prayer to the Virgin Mary, or to any of those Saints whom
the Church of Rome has taught her followers to regard with
a superstitious reverence.
Multitudes flocked from all parts to see his remains.
His funeral was solemnized with the greatest honour. The
senators of Basle, and the whole TJniversity accompanied his
body to the grave. He was interred in the cathedral church
under a monument of Parian marble. The inscription was
drawn up by his heir, Amerbach, from which it appears
that he was buried in July. Close to the monument is a
bust of the god Terminus, taken from a seal-ring which he
always used, given to him by his pupil, the Archbishop of
St. Andrew s, on which were engraved the god Terminus
and these words, " Cedo nulli." His biographer, Knight,
observes that he did not use these words in a vainglorious
sense, but for the purpose of quickening that ardour which
served to place him on the very pinnacle of literary glory.
His death was lamented by the republic of letters, and
the best wits of the day wrote funeral elegies upon it. His
366 HIS WILL.
will was confirmed by the Emperor and the Pope. It
appears from it that in consequence of the liberality of his
friends he was not, as he sometimes represented himself, in
bad circumstances. It was reported at the time of his
death that he left more than 7000 ducats. A reference is
made in it to the sale of his library to John a Lasco, on
the condition that he also should have the use of it during
his lifetime. He left Boniface Amerbach his heir, and
made several small bequests to other friends. One of his
bequests is very remarkable. His rings, plate, and jewels,
and other curiosities were to be sold, and the money was to
be distributed in the first place to those who had become
poor by age or sickness, then to maidens destitute of for
tune towards their marriage, and lastly, to hopeful but poor
scholars for the encouragement of their studies. Melchior
Adam informs us that, after his death, some persons who
had interest at the Emperor s Court, said that his will ought
to be set aside, his estate confiscated, and his works pro
hibited, because he had died a heretic and a Lutheran, and
that they would have been successful if Mudceus, an eminent
lawyer, once a disciple of Erasmus, and much in favour with
the Emperor, had not prevented the execution of their
design.*
A wooden statue had been erected at Rotterdam by the
magistrates, in 1549, and placed on the arch of the stone
bridge, in honour of Erasmus, on occasion of the visit of
Philip II. to that city. Afterwards, in 1557, it was changed
for another of fine blue stone, but the Spaniards, urged
on by a certain monk of their nation, shot it down with
their muskets, and threw it into the water. When the
Spaniards were driven out of the town, the statue was set
up again, by order of the magistrates. It was succeeded by
a third, cast of copper or brass, at the public expense, which
* Jortin, vol. i. p. 596.
HIS STATUE AND THE HOUSE WHERE HE WAS BORN. SOT
was not quite finished and exposed to view till 1662. This
is a master-piece of art, rather bigger than life, nobly hab
ited in "a gown. He is represented as turning over the
leaves of a book. The statue stands in an open part of the
city, by the side of a canal, upon a pedestal adorned with
inscriptions, and surrounded with iron rails. Over the
tailor s house in the Brede Kirk Street, where he was born,
Rotterdam, proud to claim him as her citizen, has placed the
following inscription "Heec est parva domus natus qua
magnus Erasmus."
I may here state that Beatus Rhenanus informs us that
he was low of stature, but not remarkably short, that he was
well-shaped, of a fair complexion, with hair, in his youth, of
a pale yellow colour, gray eyes, a cheerful countenance, a
low voice, and an agreeable elocution, and that he was neat
in his apparel. He adds that he was an agreeable com
panion, a constant friend, generous and charitable." The
same friend says that he seldom went to mass without be
stowing an alms.
I have now finished the Life of Erasmus. I have con
demned in former pages his timidity, and all those faults
which have tarnished the fame of services rendered in the
early part of his career to the cause of the Reformation,
But, with the exception of a few captious critics, all have
admitted that literary excellence which has secured for him
a high place amongst men of letters, and has been the means
of transmitting his name with honour to succeeding genera
tions. If we take into account the difference of times and
circumstances, that he did not possess many of the aids
with which we are so abundantly favoured, we must be
astonished at the vast amount of knowledge which he ac
quired. He was one of those intellectual giants whose
strength almost " surpassed nature s law." I have already
* Jortin, vol. i. p. 580.
368 HIS SUPERIOR LATIN STYLE.
referred to his prodigious memory. A careful examination
will serve to show us that he never inserts in one book a
passage used in another. He was himself a kind of living
library. He could remember, without turning to the author,
any passage of which he wished to make use for argument or
illustration. His amazing intellectual powers were greatly
aided by an untiring industry which led him cheerfully to
endure that "weariness of the flesh" which springs from
excessive study, in order that he might gratify his thirst for
knowledge, and promote the onward march of intellectual
and moral improvement.
"VVe have already seen that he owed to himself almost all
his knowledge of the Latin and Greek languages. In the
latter he may, as I have said, have been surpassed by Bu-
dteus ; but in the former he was absolutely unrivalled. He
Lad, by long habit, formed a style of Latinity, not indeed
framed exactly on the model of Cicero, for he laughed to
scorn those who rejected every word which was not to be
found in the works of the illustrious orator j but still re
markably pure, masculine, and nervous, and admirably
suited to be the vehicle of that sparkling wit, that cutting
satire, that sophistry, those " thoughts that breathe, those
words that burn," with which he astonished, delighted, edi
fied, instructed, provoked, and offended many thousands of
his contemporaries. His verses are remarkable for good
sense, but they do not exhibit the same elegance of taste as
his prose. They are also deficient in poetical numbers.
His works are remarkable for conciseness and condensation.
Words are always employed in them which, if they fail to
carry conviction, render his meaning intelligible to the
reader. He wrote with remarkable rapidity, and had not
the patience to subject his writings to careful revision, so
that very often much escaped his observation which ought
to have been corrected. He threw all his first thoughts on
HIS LABOURS FOE, THE PROMOTION OF LITERATURE. 8G9
paper, like diamonds rough from the mine, which have
never been polished into beauty, and cut into symmetry by
the hand of the skilful artificer.
Erasmus lived for literature. He laboured most ener
getically to promote its progress throughout the Continent
of Europe. It was his earnest wish that Melancthon should
devote himself to polite learning, because he saw that he
possessed talents of the highest order, which peculiarly qua
lified him to appreciate, and to make known to other,*, the
beauties in the works of those poets, orators, philosophers,
and historians who have reared to themselves in them a
durable monument.* One of his reasons for separating
himself from the Reformers was that he thought that the
Reformation was becoming the all-absorbing subject of at
tention, and was leading to the neglect of polite literature,
the cultivation of which would, he hoped, be instrumental in
promoting the moral and spiritual regeneration of Europe.
Of this idea I have already spoken, and still have to add
a few words upon it. We must admit that by his in
defatigable labours he contributed greatly to disperse the
gross darkness which covered the nations. Hitherto all
who wished to make progress in ancient literature had
repaired to Italy in order that they might receive instruc
tion from the distinguished emigrants who had settled
in that country, having brought with them the works of
the Greek authors, which they had snatched from the
Byzantine libraries, and had thus saved from the destruction
with which they were threatened. The Italians, that they
might make a gain of the vast numbers who flocked to their
shores, endeavoured to keep in their own hands the key
which unlocked the golden cabinet. But Erasmus disap
pointed their expectations. To him mainly it was owing
* See the quotations from Luther s epistles, given in "Milner s
Church History," vol. v. p. 324.
24
370 DIFFICULTIES IN THE WAY OF HIS WORK.
that all, without crossing the ocean, were able to gaze upon
the invaluable treasures. He brought learning to their own
homes, and excited that spirit of industry which led them
to devote themselves with indefatigable ardour to the pro
secution of their studies. We shall be greatly surprised
that he should have been instrumental in accomplishing this
great intellectual revolution, when we remember that he
was born in poverty and obscurity, that he never held any
lucrative employment or public benefice; that he was in
debted for the means of defraying his necessary expenses to
the precarious bounty of his friends and admirers; that
often, in the earlier part of his career, he had no money to
buy those books without which he could not hope that his
labours would be crowned with the wished-for success ; that
he was destitute of those means and appliances for the study
of classical authors with which we are so abundantly favoured;
that, during a part of his life he was wandering about from
place to place, engaged in visiting those public libraries where
he might obtain information which would be of service to
him in the composition of his works ; that he was afflicted
with an incurable disorder, the stone, which caused him ex
cruciating agony, obliged him, as he informs Wolsey s phy
sician,* for twenty years to read and write standing or
leaning, and to sit very little except at meals, often inter
rupting him in his studies, and threatening to bring him
to a premature grave ; and that he had to spend the time
which he was anxious to devote to the pursuit of learning,
in answering those invectives of his opponents to which he
had rendered himself obnoxious during the last sad years of
his memorable career.
Erasmus was a most voluminous writer. His works were
published after his death, in 1540, by B. Rhenanus at tha
press of Froben at Basle, in nine folio volumes. They were
* Op. torn. iii. p. 1814, edit. Lugd.
ENUMERATION OF HIS PUBLICATIONS. 371
afterwards published in ten volumes by Le Clerc, at Leyden,
in 1703. "We may form some idea of the number of his
publications, and of the editions through which they have
passed, when we hear that one large volume among the
catalogues at the British Museum is appropriated to them.
I shall not now enumerate all the works which have already
come before us. Of these, the Adages, the Epistles, the
New Testament, and the Paraphrases, occupy each one by
itself a large folio volume. Gradually, most of his works
have ceased to be read, not because any want of merit has
been discovered in them, but because the subjects discussed
are better understood, and because subsequent treatises on
them, written in modern languages, have superseded their
use. Before I conclude this part of our subject, I will
refer to those not already mentioned. They include many
editions of classical authors, besides works designed to
assist in classical studies, and a large work called the
"Apophthegms of the Ancients," containing many brilliant
.gems ; as well as thirty smaller works on religious subjects.
Some of them which are devotional, are of a common
place character. He published also thirty-five minor trea
tises on general subjects, respecting some of which the
same observation may be made. The only one not already
referred to, which rises above mediocrity, is a treatise
concerning the manner of writing letters on all subjects,
which may be read with pleasure on account of its ex
quisite Latinity, the information supplied by it respect
ing the titles arid forms by which great men were then
addressed, and the modes of speech, considered particu
larly courteous, which, he felt, would soon be no more
needed. "When we hear that he published, as I have said,
many works of the Fathers, together with more than
twenty Apologies, some of them of great length, we shall
have some idea of those " irovct HpaxXg/o/," those "Hercu-
242
372 HIS CHARACTER.
lean labours," which have secured for him an immortal
memory among his fellow-creatures.
I have now little more to say about Erasmus. We may
gather from his writings that he was remarkable for his
warm and generous . disposition, and that he was full of
kindness to all around him. He was certainly too sensi
tive when he was attacked by his adversaries. He could
advise others who suffered in the same way to leave the
jackdaws to their fate ; but he could not follow his own
advice. He was too ready to make a reply to them, and
always attacked them with great bitterness. The "Spongia"
to Hutten, in which he animadverts in a tone of savage
delight upon his debts, his disease, and his poverty, affords
a sad evidence of the truth of the preceding assertion. He
does not seem to have been covetous, nor ambitious of eccle
siastical dignities. It was his wish only to have sufficient
means to be enabled to prosecute, without distraction, his
beloved studies. The largest desires of his heart had been
gratified. He was the idol before which all the learned
men in Europe were bowing down in solemn adoration. It
was his conviction that if he had accepted ecclesiastical
preferment, he would have entered into a splendid servi
tude. He would have been bound with golden fetters, and
would have been unable to assail the abuses and corrup
tions of the Church and Court of Eome.
Some of his works are remarkable for the tone of
earnest piety which pervades them, and for the important
practical precepts, applicable to all times and circumstances,
which they contain. His critical investigations, however,
led him to a somewhat freer view of inspiration than
had been common before him. He thought it unneces
sary to attribute everything in the Apostles to miraculous
teaching. Christ, he said, suffered the Apostles to err, and
that, too, after the descent of the Paraclete ; but not so
HIS SCEPTICISM. 373
as to endanger the faith. He remarks that the Epistle to
the Hebrews is not entirely in the style of the Apostle
Paul. He doubts whether St. John the Apostle wrote the
Apocalypse. He often accuses the Evangelists of lapses
of memory, and I regret to say that a rationalistic spirit
constantly appears in his writings.
It is scarcely possible not to observe that the mind of
Erasmus was essentially sceptical. He had doubts about
almost everything except the existence of God, and the
obligation of the moral law. He wished the articles of
faith to be brought within a very narrow compass. The
following observations are to be found] in the introduction
to his edition of St. Hilary : " The sum of our religion is
peace, which cannot easily be preserved unless we define
very few points ; and in most matters leave every one to
form his own judgment." He afterwards says that it had
occurred to him, in examining the works of Hilary, that,
while every effort is made to impress us with the belief that
the Son is very God of very God, nothing is said about
the Holy Spirit, and His equality with the Father. One
reason which he assigns for this fact is that, on account of
His human nature, it is more difficult to believe Christ to
be God. Then occur the following very objectionable words
on the teaching of Holy Scripture as to the Three Persons :
" The Father is very frequently called God, the Son some
times, the Holy Spirit never."
I am sorry also to have to state that a passage in the same
introduction exhibits his strong sympathy with the Arians.
" How furiously Hilary attacks the Arians ! He calls them
impious, blasphemous, devils, pests, enemies of Christ, as if
the name of heretic were nothing. And yet it is probable
that some members of the Arian party believed that their
teaching concerning Christ was in accordance with truth
and piety. Many great authorities support the doctrine ;
374 HIS TENDENCY TOWAKDS AEIANISM.
many passages of Scripture are in favour of it ; and there
are not wanting arguments for it which have the appearance
of truth." I know indeed that he has denied the charge in
question ; but when we find him writing in the above man
ner, maintaining that the Arians surpassed their adversaries
in learning and eloquence,, that they were skilful in the
knowledge of the Scriptures, that they might be good men
and in the favour of God notwithstanding their error; when
we read these words in the " Inquisition of Faith," " The
Son also is of God, but He is of God the Father. The
Father alone is of none, and obtains the principal place among
the Divine Persons" and find him asserting that Arius and his
followers were ill-used by consubstantialists ; when we fur
ther find him giving an Arian interpretation to certain texts
which are commonly used against that party, and saying
that " so great is his respect for the authority of the Church
that he could agree with the Arians and Pelagians if the
Church had supported their doctrines ;"* we cannot fail to
come to the conclusion, notwithstanding his assertion to the
contrary, that with the Church s consent, he would gladly
have professed that creed which nullifies Christianity, by
denying our Lord s consubstantiality with the Father.
I have already observed that the sarcastic humour of
Erasmus, even when directed against superstition, was often
irreverent and unseasonable. The following is an instance
of the truth of that assertion. Describing the revolution at
Basle in 1529 to his friend Pirckheimer, he says, " The
images of the saints, and even of the crucifix, have been
treated with so much ludicrous insult, that it may be
thought extraordinary that no miracle should have been
wrought on the occasion, especially as the saints of former
times performed plenty of them in consequence of slight
affronts. "t Again, writing to Andreas Critius, he says,
* See p. 285. t Op. torn. iii. p. 1188, edit. Lugd.
HIS LATITUDINAEIANISM. 375
" They tell horrid stories of saints who, in many instances,
punished persons for using profane expressions ; insomuch
that I cannot but wonder that not one out of so many should
revenge himself on the authors of this prodigious devasta
tion. As to the mildness of Christ and the Blessed Virgin,
I am not at all surprised at it."*
The preceding examples will have served to show the
tendency of Erasmus s mind on religious subjects. He
seems to have imagined that if a man s life were consis
tent with the fair rules of order and morality, his faith
might be left without hazard to the decision of his own
judgment ; and that, however he might be assailed by the
advocates of bigotry, he would stand acquitted before that
Being, who knows the waywardness of the human mind,
and who will judge us according to our works. Adequately
to expose the unsoundness of this opinion would require a
long discussion. Suffice it now to appeal to the authorita
tive decision in those words of the Apostle, which are dic
tated by the Spirit of unerring wisdom, and are left upon
record as a lasting evidence of the evil of false principles,
and the unspeakable value of the genuine religion of Christ :
" Though we, or an angel from heaven, preach any other
gospel unto you than that which we have preached unto
you, let him be accursed. As we said before, so say I now
again, if any man preach any other gospel unto you than
that ye have received, let him be accursed."t " The ques
tion of questions," as Mr. Froude observes, in a lecture on
Erasmus, which presents on the whole a just view of his
character, " is what all this latitudinarian philosophy, this
cultivated epicurean gracefulness, would have come to, if
left to itself; or rather what was the effect which it was
producing 1 If you wish to remove an old building without
bringing it in ruins about your ears, you must begin at the
* Op. torn. iii. p. 1223, edit. Lugd. f Galat. i. 8, 9.
376 HIS OPPOSITION TO LUTHER S GKEAT DOCTRINES.
top, remove stones gradually downwards, and touch the foun
dation last. But latitudinarianism loosens the elementary
principles of theology, destroys the premises on which the
dogmatic system rests The practical effect of this,
as the world then stood, would have been only to make the
educated into infidels, and to leave the multitude to a con
venient but debasing superstition."*
Observations already made will have served to indicate
the true position of Erasmus with reference to the Reforma
tion. We have seen that he was utterly disqualified for
becoming a standard-bearer in the army of the Reformers.
The herculean strength of Luther was required for the ac
complishment of that great and glorious religious revolution.
Erasmus seems from the very first to have resolved not to
move on with the times. I wish, indeed, that it had
been otherwise ; and that he had resolved to accept those
great doctrines without the proclamation of which the
Reformation could not have been brought, as we shall see
directly, to a successful issue. That he did not agree with
Luther on the doctrine of original sin, appears plainly from
the following passages : " I have shown that Paul, when he
says that we are children of wrath, may be understood to
speak, not of men s condition by nature, but of the depraved
state of their morals, into which they have voluntarily
brought themselves."t Again he seems to assert in his
" Paraphrase," that original sin consists in following the ex
ample of our first parents. In both these passages he
differs from Article IX. of the Church of England, in which
we are told that "Original sin standeth not in the following
of Adam, (as the Pelagians do vainly talk ;) but it is the fault
-and corruption of the nature of every man, that naturally is
* Froude s "Short Studies on Great Subjects."
t " Hyperaspistes," torn. ix. edit. Bas.
+ "Paraphrase" of Rom. v. 12.
THE CAUSES OP HIS FAILURE AS A REFORMER. 377
Ingendered of the offspring of Adam. 1 I have already
stated that he differed from Luther and the other ^Reformers
on the great doctrine of justification by faith, and I need
not adduce additional evidence of the truth of this assertion.
Now it was because Erasmus opposed the great doctrines
just referred to, because he hoped, by literature and culti
vation, to accomplish his object, that he failed hopelessly in
his scheme for the regeneration of European society. Of
what use is the mere knowledge of literature and science,
independently of religious truth, in taming the passions, in
quenching pride, in moderating ambition, in stifling envy,
and all the malignant passions of the natural heart 1 How,
too, can it preserve a man from those crimes and excesses
which degrade human nature, and place him on a level
with the beasts that perish ? But union to Christ by faith
necessitates the renunciation of every known sin ; attrac
tion to God by Christ prevents the deliberate omission of
any acknowledged duty. Having laid the foundation in
"faith," then, enjoins the Apostle, " giving all diligence,
add to your faith virtue." The mere knowledge of science
and literature, unconnected with the fundamental doc
trines of the Gospel, cannot " bring into captivity every
thought to the obedience of Christ ;" it may shed a gleam
of light over the " cloudy and dark day " of adversity,
and minister consolation during the weary moments of
languor and disease ; but it cannot cleanse us from that
moral pollution with which our nature is infected ; it
cannot deprive death of its sting, and the grave of its
victory ; it cannot speak peace to the man who is
troubled with a deep sense of his sinfulness ; it cannot give
us the assurance of pardon and reconciliation with our
Maker ; it cannot ensure us approval on the day of judg
ment ; it cannot " minister unto us an entrance abundantly
into the everlasting kingdom of our Lord and Saviour Jesus
378 THE EIGHT METHOD OP EEFOEMING THE WOELD.
Christ." Then only can we hope to be instrumental in
saving the souls of others around us, and in promoting the
peace and good order of human society, when we constantly
exhibit Christ as the sole atonement for known and forsaken
sin, and as the best example of virtuous and holy living ;
Christian morals as founded upon Christian doctrine, and
Christian principles as leading to Christian practice; to
" the holiness without which no man shall see the Lord."
INDEX.
"Adages, The ; Erasmus writes, 43. De
scription of, 54-58. Publication of edi
tions of, 73, 149, 193, 228-229. Attack
upon Kings in, 157.
Adrian, Pope ; letter from him to Eras
mus, and from Erasmus in reply, 255,
256.
Agricola, Rodolph, 13. Praises Erasmus,
14.
Albert, Archbishop of Maiutz ; his de
sire to see Erasmus, 2. Letter to, 192,
193.
Aldington, Rectory of, 107, 108.
Aldridge, Robert, 118, 123. Letter to,
222.
Aldus prints the " Adages " at Venice, 73.
Aleander ; his intimacy with Erasmus,
73. Urges the Emperor and the Elec
tor Frederic to give up Luther to the
Pope, 230-238.
Alexander, Pope, 36. Condemned in the
"Praise of Folly," 95.
Alexander, Archbishop of St. Andrew s,
06, 07.
Amerbacas, The, father and sons, the
printers at Basle, 147, 151.
Ammonius, Andreas ; letters to, 3, 120-
127, 144, 186.
"Apophthegms," The, of Erasmus, 371.
Arabian learning ; its duration, 0, 7.
Arianism, The, of Erasmus, 373, 374.
Augsburg, Christopher Stadius, Bishop
of ; makes a journey to see Erasmus,
Augsburg, City of ; symbolical represen
tation at, 339.
Aurotinus, Cornelius ; Erasmus writes his
first two letters to him, 29.
B
Baptista, Dr. ; his sons go to Italy with
Erasmus, 06.
Barbirius, P. : letter to, 285. Intercepts
Erasmus s pension, 287.
Basle ; Erasmus arrives at, 140. Makes it
his home, 265. His departure from,
325. His return to, 300. His death
and funeral at, 305.
Battus, 31.
.Becket, St. Thomas si, 131, 132, 133, 135,
13C.
Bedda ; his persecution of the Reformers, .
290, 291. His controversy with Eras
mus, 292-294.
Bergis, Anthony a, a friend of Erasmus,
50.
Bergis, Henry de, Bishop of Cambray ;
takes Erasmus from the monastery, 31.
Sends him to Paris, 31. Does not help
him to pay his expenses there, 33.
Berquin, Louis de ; is apprehended, 291.
Translates Erasmus s works, and circu
lates them, 327, 328. He is sent to
prison, and delivered from it, 329, 331.
Letter of Erasmus describing his death.
332, 333.
Blunt, Professor ; his observations on the
" Paraphrase " of Erasmus, 198, 199.
Bologna ; Erasmus at, 72. Nearly lo.st
his life at, 73, 74.
Boville ; letter from Erasmus to him about
the Novurn Testamentum, 187.
Budseus ; compared to Erasmus, 289.
Letter of Erasmus to, 354.
Burgundy, Prince Philip of ; paiicgyri c
of Erasmus on, 44.
Cambridge; Erasmus goes to, luO. Ho
resides for two years at, 120. He is
out of humour with, 127. Departs
from, 128.
Campegius. Cardinal ; letters to, 20S, 233.
Canossa, Cardinal ; the interview of
Erasmus with, 128, 129.
Canterbury, visit of Erasmus to, 132-142.
Carpi, Prince of, 271, 320.
Catherine of Arragon ; Erasmus com
mends her piety and learning, and
dedicates to her his " Treatise on Ma
trimony," 290. lie writes about her
divorce. 304 305. His letter to, 305.
Charles, Prince ; Erasmus is appointed
to a post in his Council, 128. He writes
for his benefit the " Christian Prince,"
100. Is elected Emperor, 231, 232.
Is crowned, 230. Is urged to issue nu
edict against Luther, 237. Writes a
flattering letter to Erasmus. 310.
Charnock, Prior, the head of Erasmus s
College at Oxford, 40.
Chelsea ; Sir Thomas Morc s house at, 355.
His tomb in the church at, 357.
;<so
INDEX.
" Ciceroniaims," The; a work of Eras
mus, 321-324.
Classical works, The, of Erasmus, 220.
Clement VI I. ; Erasmus s flattering letter
to, 311. Makes a present to Erasmus,
313.
Colet, John ; his parentage, and education
at Oxford. 35. May have heard Savona
rola at Florence, 37. Lectures at Ox
ford against the Schoolmen, 39. Dis
appointed because Erasmus will not
aid him in his work, 41. Founds St.
Paul s School, 124. Is at Canterbury
with Erasmus, 134, 136, 137, 140, 141.
His " Institutes of a Christian Man "
turned into Latin verse by Erasmus,
100. His death and character, 161.
" Colloquies." The, of Erasmus ; Design
and description of, 200, 270. Censured
at Paris, 270. Remarkable sale of, 228.
" Commentariolus de Ratione Studii,"
The, of Erasmus, 125, 126.
Complaint of Peace," The, of Erasmus,
195.
"Contempt of the World," Erasmus s
treatise on the, 29.
Cope, Dr. ; Poem to, on crossing the
Alps, 72.
Cranmer, Archbishop, commends Eras
mus s " Paraphrase/ 198.
D
Deveiiter, Erasmus sent to school at, 13.
His mother dies at, 14. Erasmus ap
pointed to the Provostship of, 363.
Dorpius, Letters from Erasmus and More
as to the " Praise of Folly " to, 102.
Dover, Treatment of Erasmus at, 43, 144.
E
" Ecclesiastes," The, of Erasmus; the
character of Wai-ham from, 347, 348.
The character of More from, 352. Story
of a preacher from, 3(30-362.
"Enchiridion," The ; Erasmus writes, 44.
Account of, 58-62. Extract from, 172.
Condemnation of the dogmas of Rome
in, 224-220. Popularity in Spain of,
229, 230.
England, Erasmus s preference for, 3, 4,
348. His description of the ladies in,
41. His visits to, 34, 77, 147, 155. His
departures from 42. 143, 155. His ex
pectations from, 148. 150.
Eppendorf, a false friend of Erasmus, 249.
Euripides ; Erasmus presents to Arch
bishop Warham a Latin translation of
the " Hecuba " of, 65.
F
Farel, William ; Quarrel of Erasmus with.
260-268.
Fathers, The ; Erasmus s opinion of, 180,
181. His editions of, 221.
Fisher, Bishop ; the patron of Erasmus at
Cambridge, 109. Letters to, 161, 232.
Death of, 352.
Fisher, 11., letter to, 3.
Florence, Visit of Erasmus to, 72.
Fox, Bishop of Winchester, 63.
Francis I. invites Erasmus to France, 289.
Taken prisoner at Pavia, 290. Prohibits
the sale of Bedda s book, 295. Erasmus s
letter to Charles V. about, 315.
Frederick, Elector of Saxony, befriends
Luther, 199. Refuses the Imperial
crown, 231. Interview of Erasmus
with him at Cologne, 238-241.
" Free-will," Erasmus s treatise on,257-262.
Friburg ; Erasmus goes to, 325. Leaves,
360.
Froben, John, the printer ; Erasmus in
troduces himself to, 147. Description
of his printing establishment, 150, 151.
Prints the New Testament and St.
Jerome, 147. Imitates Erasmus s " Ada
ges," and prints a 6th edition of them,
228. His death and character, 320, 321.
Froude, Mr. ; Extracts from the works of,
359, 376.
G
Gamblers, described in the Praise of
Folly," 89.
Gardiner, Bishop ; opposed to the public
use of the " Paraphrase," 198.
Genevi^ve, St. . Erasmus s vow to, 33.
George, Duke of Saxony ; writes to Eras
mus. 256.
Gerard, the father of Erasmus, 12, 14.
The proper name of his son, 13.
German inns ; Erasmus s description of
the. 67-72.
Ghent, Accident to Erasmus near, 145.
Goclenius, P. ; a bequest to him from
Erasmus, 287.
Greek ; Diffusion of a knowledge of, 7-11.
Erasmus applies himself to the study
of, 34, 53, 64, 65.
Grey, T. , a pupil of Erasmus, 34.
Grimani, Cardinal ; Introduction of Eras
mus to, 75, 76. His letter to, 148.
Grocyn, the friend and tutor of Erasmus
at Oxford, 34, 35. Introduces him to
Archbishop Warham, 66.
Gnumius, Letter of Erasmus to, 15-28.
H
: Hegius, Alexander, 13.
Henry VII. ; Erasmus praises him in an
ode, 104.
Henry VIII. ; Ascends the throne. 77.
Erasmus s first visit to him as Prince
of Wales, 103. His ode to, 104, 105. His
high opinion of, 100. Disappointed in
his expectations from, 157. Urged by
him to write against Luther, 256. Let
ters to, 4, 260. Invitation to England
from, 316, 317.
Herman of Tergau, a friend of Erasmus
in the monastery, 29.
INDEX.
381
Hermonymus, George, Greek professor at
Paris, 65.
Herzogensbiisch, Erasmus sent to, 14.
Heyen, Bertha de ; Funeral oration on, 29.
Hilary, Introduction to, 373.
Holbein, Hans, the painter ; his illustra
tions of the "Praise of Folly," 101.
Paints pictures of Henry VIII. and his
queens, and one of Sir T. Morc s family,
355.
Hunters, Description of the, 80.
Hutten, Ulrich von; Letter from Erasmus
to, 161-165. An account of his life, 240-
248. Arrives at Basle, 248. Quarrel
with Erasmus, 249-251.
"Hyperaspistes," The, 262, 263.
" Icthyophagia," one of the " Colloquies ;"
An extract from, 32.
Income of Erasmus, 286-2SS.
Indulgences ; Erasmus s views as to the
contest a"! >out, 191. He condemns them
in the " Praise of Folly," 223.
Ingoldstadt, Erasmus, invited to, 170.
Inspiration, Views of Erasmus on, 372.
Italy ; Erasmus leaves England for, 60.
Resides in, 72-76. Departs from, 77.
Says that he intends to revisit, 149.
Jerome, St. ; Erasmus goes to Basle to
print his works, 143. He describes his
own edition, and the printing of it, 149,
150, 151. The printing finished, 171.
Extract from his introduction to, 184.
Importance of the publication of, 188.
Jonas, Jodocus, Letter to, 243, 244.
Julius II. ; besieges and takes Bologna,
72. Promises Erasmus preferment, 73.
Condemned in the " Praise of Folly,"
97, 98. Erasmus describes his wars,
Kretzer, M., Letter of Erasmus to, con
demning the Pope and clergy, 338.
Lasco, John a ; led by Erasmus s writings
to join the Reformers, 326. His letter
to, 331, 332. Sale of his library to, 366.
Latimer,one of Erasmus s Oxford friends,
34.
Latin ; Erasmus had no rival in, 63. His
excellent style in, 323, 368.
Learning, Effects of the revival of, 5.
Lee, Edward ; his controversy with Eras
mus on 1 John v. 7, 8, 174. His violent
opposition to him, 218, 219.
Leo X. ; Erasmus introduced to him as
Cardinal de Medici, 7:!. His letter to
150, 151. His high opinion of, 152, 1511
1 1 is mistaken estimate of, 154, 155. His
New Testament dedicated to, 187.
jetters of Erasmus ; an account of them,
241-243.
Letters of obscure men ; their design ex
plained, 246, 278.
Letters, Treatise on writing, 371.
inacre, physician to Henry VII. and
VIII., an Oxford friend of Erasmus, 34.
Lingua," The, 286.
Longland, John, Bishop of Lincoln, 314.
Louvain, Residence of Erasmus at, 195.
Lucian, translated by Erasmus, 63, 64.
Luther, Martin ; his propositions against
indulgences, 192. Defended by Eras
mus, 193, 201, 233, 234, 239. Commends
Erasmus s work, 200. Concealed at
Wartburg, 243. Difference between
him and Erasmus, 203-211, 376, 377.
Burns the Pope s bull, 236. Dislikes
Erasmus, 243. An irritating letter to
Erasmus from. 252-255. Erasmus s reply,
255. His treatise against Erasmus s
doctrine of free-will, 260-262.
Lystrius, Gerard ; Erasmus meets him at
Basle, 146. His note 011 indulgences in
his edition of the "Praise of Folly."
223.
- M
Macaulay, Lord ; extracts from his Es
says, 35, 153.
Margaret, the mother of Erasmus. 12, 14. .
Margaret, Countess of Richmond, 109.
Margaret of Valois, 331.
Matrimony, Treatise on, 296-304.
Melaiicthon, Philip ; his judgment on
Erasmus s controversy with Luther,
264, 265.
Monks ; Erasmus s satire on the, 89-92.
They oppose him, 213-215.
More, Sir Thomas; Erasmus becomes
acquainted with, 40. Erasmus trans
lates Lucian with, 63, 64. Takes him
to see the children of Henry VII., 103.
Erasmus describes him and his family,
161-164, 354, 355. His "Utopia," 164-
168. High character of, from the " EC--
clesiastes," 352. Resigns the Chancel
lorship, 353. His death, 358. The
change in his religious views, 359, 360.
Mountjoy, William Lord ; Erasmus be
comes his tutor, 33. Brings Erasmus
to England, 34. Invites him to return
to England, 77. Erasmus stays with,
JOT. Erasmus s pension from, 128. His
death, 352.
N
Nicholas V. ; aids in the diffusion of
learning, 10.
Noviomagus, Gerard, Letters to, 233, 335.
O
CEcolampadius ; Erasmus s letter to, 28 ?.
His views on the Lord s Supper, 281,.
285.
Origeii, Erasmus s work on, 364.
382
INDEX.
Oxford, Erasmus goes to, 34. His resi
dence and friendships at, 40. Depar
ture from, 42.
Pace, Richard, Dean of St. Paul s, Ex
tract from letter to, 211.
Padua, Erasmus passes the winter at, 73.
Paganism, Revival of, 153, 154, (522.
" Paraclesis," The, 175-178.
"Paraphrase of the New Testament,"
The, 196-199.
Paris, University of ; Erasmus enters, 31.
His bad Treatment at, 32. His pupils
at, 33. City of, extolled by Erasmus,
44.
Parr, Queen Catharine, 198.
Paul III.; offers Erasmus preferment, 362.
" Peace of the Soul," Treatise on the, 29.
Peasants, War of the, 281, 282.
Pensions, The, of Erasmus, 286, 287.
Petrarch ; his literary labours, 7-9.
Philosophers, Erasmus s description of
the, 84.
Pirckheimer, Bilibald ; Letters of Eras
mus to, 215, 244, 374. His death, 344.
Plutarch, A translation from, dedicated
to Henry VIII., 106.
Popes ; Satire of Erasmus on, 93, 95-98.
Erasmus condemns their extravagant
power, 227.
"Praise of Folly," The, 77-102. The
Church of Rome condemned in, 221-223.
Extraordinary sale of, 228.
" Prince, The Christian," 166.
Psalm XXII., Exposition of, 351.
R
" Ratio verfe theologise," The, 178-182.
Heuchlin, John, 277-280.
Rlienanus, Beatus ; Erasmus meets him
at Basle, 146, 147.
Richmond, Apparition at, 110.
Rome ; Residence of Erasmus at, 73, 75,
76. His love for, 148, 149. The Church
of, called by Erasmus Babylon, 224,
Roper, Margaret, 355-357.
Rotterdam, Erasmus bom at, 12. His
statue at, 366, 367. House where he
was born at, 367.
Ruthall, Thomas, Bishop of Durham, 63.
Sapidus, John, 146.
Savonarola, 37.
Scaliger ; his attack on Erasmus s " Ci-
ceronianus," 323, 324.
"Scarabeus Aquilam quajrit," one of
the "Adages," 55, 56.
Scepticism, The, of Erasmus, 375.
Schoolmen, The ; their system, 37, 38.
Colet lectures against, 39. Erasmus s
satire 011 the, 85-89. Condemned by
him, 179, 180, 182.
Scriptures, The ; to be studied by all, 177.
Their historical sense, 179, ISO.
" Seraphic Obsequies," The, one of the
Colloquies," 271-276.
Servatius, the Prior, Letter to, "29, 106, 14:!.
"Shipwreck," Colloquy of the, 224.
Sickingen, Francis of, fights with Hutten
for the Reformation, 247, 248.
"Sileni Alcibiadis," one of the "Adages,"
56.
Sintheim, the master of Erasmus, 14.
Skelton, the poet, 105.
Slechta, John, Correspondence of Eras
mus with, 202-203.
Sorbonne, The, censures the works of
Erasmus, 60, 102, 270, 319-320.
Spalatin ; his account of Erasmus s inter
view with the Elector Frederic, 239, 240.
" Spongia," The, of Erasmus, 227, 250-251,
372.
Standish, Dr., attacks Erasmus, 216-218.
Stein, Monastery of, Erasmus at, 28-31.
St. George, Raphael, Cardinal of, the
friend of Erasmus at Rome, 73. His
letter to, 149.
Stillingfleet, Bishop, commends Erasmus,
1, 2.
Sutor, 290 ; contest of Erasmus with, 292.
Sylvester, Pope ; his learning, <>, 7.
Terence, well known to Erasmus, 2.
Testament, The New ; Erasmus s deter
mination to translate, 64. He is en
gaged on it at Cambridge, 124. Goes
to Basle to publish, 143. Published,
171. He was the first to publish it in
Greek, 174. His object in publishing.
183. Opposition to him on account of
his work, 185, 186. More praised than
censured, 187. Rapid sale of, 187.
Tonstall, Bishop of London, 256, 289.
Turin, Erasmus takes his degree at, 72.
Tyndale, translates the Enchiridion, 59.
U
Udal, Nicholas. Master of Eton School, 198.
Ursewick, Christopher, 63.
Valla, Laurentius ; an edition of his " An
notations " published by Erasmus, 63.
Venice, Visit of Erasmus to, 73.
Verden. Cornelius, a false friend of Eras
mus, 28.
Vere, Marchioness de, the friend and
patron of Erasmus, 31, 32, 44.
Vitrarius, John, the monk of St. Omer,
45-52.
Volzius, Paul, Letter to, 194.
W
Walsingham, Visit of Erasmus to, 111-124.
Warham, Archbishop ; First visit of Eras-
INDEX.
383
mus to, 65. Gives him a living, 107-
108. Letters to, 268-269, 288, 345. Let
ters from, 345, 346. His death, 344,
352. Erasmus s character of, 136, 346-
348. Observations upon it, 349-350.
Whitford, Richard ; Erasmus dedicates a
part of a translation of " Lucian " to, 64.
"Widow," "The Christian," of Erasmus,
295.
Wiltshire and Ormond, the Earl of, 351,
352.
Wimphelingus, Letter of Erasmus to, 146.
Wiukel, Peter, the master and guardian
of Erasmus, 13, 14.
Wit of Erasmus, Observations on the,
276-277, 374.
Wolsey, Thomas ; Makes Erasmus pro
mises, 107. Does not fulfil them, 157-
159.
Worms, Luther at the Diet of, 243.
Ximenes, Cardinal, The Complutensian
Polyglott by, 174.
Zuinglius ; his views on the Sacrament
of the Lord s Supper, 284.
THE END.
A-
r"\. (/
UvV
BILLING, TRINTER, GUILDFORD, SUKUKT.
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