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VIE 
 
 D'flRASME. 
 
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VIE 
 
 D'fiRASME. 
 
 , La vie de ce savant fut une suite continuelle 
 •d'agitationa et de voyages, et Ton a pein© k 
 tjoncevoi]? cotmmeat lan homme, qui pendant 
 eiaquante ans cauFUt sans cesse d'un royaume 
 k un autre y ait pu prodniire une si grande 
 quantite d'otivrages remairquables. 
 
 Erasmie ( Didier ) naqiiit k Rotterdam ,. le 
 a8 octobre 1467 ,du commerce iU^gitime d'un 
 bourgeois nomme Gerard et de la lille d'un 
 medecin brahanfon. Son p^re ne pouvant 
 eppus«r cell© qu'il aimait se retira en Italie , 
 oil il prit les ordres ; mais it revint bientot 
 dans sa patrie , et se consacra k Feducation de 
 son fils. Erasme fut d'abord enfant de cboeur, 
 et lorsqu'il eut atteiht sa neuvieme ann^e , il 
 
272 VIE 
 
 el^ves de cetle iliavson : il en sortit, et com- 
 
 men?a, pour vivre , k donner des lepons par- 
 
 ticuliferes. 
 
 Ce fut alors qu'il fit la connaissance d'un 
 jeune gentilhomme anglais, nommeMontjoye, 
 dont il devint presqiie en mfeme temps le pr6-^ 
 cepteur et I'ami , et qu'il suivit en Angleterre. 
 Erasme s^jouraa quelque temps dans ce pays; 
 mais les promesses que lui avait faites son nou- 
 veau protecteur ne s'^tantpas r^alis^es, ilpassa 
 en Italia , et fat re?u doeteur en theologie k 
 Bologne , oii il passa pr^s d'une annee. Ce fut 
 ^ans cette ville que le scapukira blanc qu'il 
 n'avait cess^ de porter depuis sa sortie du mo- 
 nastere faillit lui devenir funeste : ce costume 
 le fit prendre , par la populace , pour le m^- 
 decin des pestffer^ : on le poursuivit a coups 
 de pierres, et il n'^cbappa k la mort que par 
 une esp^ee de miracle. 
 
 Bien qu'Erasme passat ordinairement peu 
 de temps dans le m^e lieu , il ne laissait pas 
 de travailler : il venait, en i5o6, de mettre la 
 derni^re main a ses Adages , qu'il arait I'in- 
 tention de faire imprimer a Venise ; mais avant 
 d'entreprendre ce voyage , il demanda au pape 
 
D'ERASME. 273 
 
 Jules II la dispense de ses voeux : ce qui lui 
 fut accorde. 
 
 De Venise Erasme serendit suceessivement 
 k Padoue et i Rome oulepape raceueillitavee 
 distinction. On lui fit alors les propositions les 
 plus flatteuses 5 et la place de penitencier lui 
 fut offerte ; mais Erasme avait .d'autres vues. 
 Le prince de Galles, avec lequel notre savant 
 s'^tait li^ pendant son sejour en Angleterre , 
 venaiit de monter sur le trone , sous le nom de 
 Henri VIII : Erasme, qui esp^rait beaucoup 
 de ce prince , retourna k Londres ou le cel^- 
 bre Thomas Morus le re^ut comme un ancien 
 ami,et lui donna un appartement dans sa propre 
 maison.Lamani^re dontces deux personnages 
 avaient fait connaissance est assez singuliere , 
 et m«5rite d'etre rapportee. Morus voyageait 
 dans les Pays-Bas ; un jour il rencontre un 
 homme d'une figure ouverte et spirituelle : il 
 lie conversation avec lui sans le connaitre. 
 Get homme ^tait vif et pressant dans ses rai- 
 sonnemens , un peu railleur , et jl s'enon- 
 cait avec une grande facility. Apres I'avoir 
 ecoute quelque temps , Morus s'(^cria : « Ou 
 vous fetes un delnon j ou vous fetes Erasme. » 
 
 T. I. 18 
 
274 VIE 
 
 Et depuis ce jour Tamiti^ unit etroitement ces 
 
 deux hommes celebres. 
 
 Ce fut chea Thomas Morus qu'Era&me com- 
 posa , en moins de huit jours, son Eloge de la 
 folie ; c'est une satire de tous les etats de la 
 vie , depuis le froc jusqu'a la tiare ; les moines 
 surtout, et les^mauvais theoJogiens y sont tour- 
 nes en ridicule. Personne n'y est ^pargne ; 
 les e?Efe(jues , les cardinaux et le pape mfeme y 
 jouent un role. On rapporte que cette piece, 
 <jui eutle plus grand succfes, fut lue par Leon X 
 lui-mfeme , qui avait une estime toute particu- 
 liere pour I'auteur , et qui , loin de s'offenser 
 de la hardiesse de ce dernier , dit , apres avoir 
 lu la satire : « Notre Erasme a aussi so. ma- 
 rottCk » Les moines et les theologiens ne pri- 
 rent pas aussi bien la chose : afinde sevenger, 
 ils choisirent dans les ouvrages d'Erasmie plu- 
 sieurs propositions qui , prises isolement, pou- 
 vaient paraitre reprehensibles relativement aux 
 opinions recues;ils lesdenommferenta la faculte 
 de theologie de Paris qui , excitee par son syn- 
 dic , Noel Beda, homme ignorant et passionjae, 
 en fit une censure dans laquelle Erasme est 
 traite d'insens^, d'impie, de fou, ce quin'em- 
 
D'ERASME. 275 
 
 p^cha point les gens senses de rire des sots 
 moines , des niauvais theologiens et de recon- 
 naitre le merite d'Erasme. • 
 
 Le cardinal Xim^nes s'entretpnant un jour 
 avec I'un de ces censeurs lui dit : « Oil faites 
 niieux , ou laissez faire ceux k qui Dieu en a 
 doniie le talent. » Ce prince de I'eglise n'igno- 
 rait pas que les hommes de genie n'ont pas 
 d'enn^inis plus ardens que les sotset les igno- 
 rans , iiicapables eux-m&mes de rien produire. 
 
 Erasme , qui ecrivait en latin , comme tous 
 les auteurs de son temps , s'etait fait un style 
 particulier et tout-a-fait original ; il faut pour- 
 tant cbnvenir que ses plaisanteries ne sont 
 point toutes de nature a plaire aux gens de gottt, 
 et il est remarquable que cethomme qui etait 
 si seinsible a la critique n'eut jamais le courage 
 de sacrifier un bon mot. Sa philosophic etait 
 extraordinaire pour son siecle , et ce passage 
 de son Etage de la folie pent en donner une 
 idee : 
 
 « Quel singulier specftacle , s'ecrie-t-il , pour 
 » celui qui , place ati-dessus de notre sphere. , 
 » decouvrirait les agitations infinies des hom- 
 »mes sur le petit tas de boue qu'ils habitent ! 
 
276 VIE 
 
 » On verralt plusieurs nuees de petits animaux 
 » k deux pleds qui se querellent , se battent , 
 » se tendent. des pieges , s'el^vent , tombent , 
 » et meurent. » 
 
 En fallait-il davantage pour ameuter centre 
 ce sage la tourbe ignorante et superstitieuse des 
 moines dont I'Europe etait alors couverte ? 
 
 Apres un voyage qu'il fit a Paris, en i5io , 
 Erasme revint encore en Angleterre , et en- 
 seigna publiquement dans les universites d'Ox- 
 ford et de Cambridge ; mais ces travaux lui ac- 
 quirent plus de reputation que de fortune , et 
 la guerre qui eclata alors entre la France et 
 I'Ecosse TempSchant de recevoir les liberalites 
 de quelques grands personnages, il quitta la 
 Grande-Bretagne et vint a Bruxelles. Enfin , 
 apres plusieurs autres voyages , il se retira a 
 Bale et s'y fixa afin de surveiller I'impression 
 de ses ouvrages , qui se faisait dans cette ville. 
 Ce fut la qu'il publia son Nouveau testament ^ 
 dont le pape Leon X accepta la d^dicace. Les 
 successeurs de ce pontife tdmoign^rent ^gale- 
 ment I'estime que leur inspirait ce celfebre 
 ecrivain, et plusieurs I'engagerent k venir a 
 Rome , pour y combattre les enAemis de I'e- 
 
D'ERASME. 277 
 
 glise. Dans le mfeme temps les plus grands 
 princes de I'Europe cherchaient k I'attirer k 
 leurs cours , et Frangoii^ I" lui fit les offres les 
 plus seduisantes; mais ce roi ^tant renhem'i de 
 Charles-Quint , prince legitime et de plus pro- 
 tecteurd'Erasme,ce grand homme dontle d^s- 
 interessement et la reconnaissance ^galaient 
 le g^nierefusales oflfresdu roi de France cdmme 
 il avait refus^ celles despontifes. Cependantil' 
 conserva toujours beaucoup d'attachement 
 pour Francois I" ; et, apr^s la Bataille de Pa- 
 vie , on I'entendit conseiller k CHarles-Quint 
 d'user de sa victoire avec g^n^rosit^. 
 
 Ce fut kcette epoque que la doctrine de Lu- 
 ther commenpaci se r^pandre ; Erasme se mon- 
 tra d'abord favorable k la reforme ; il devint 
 mSine I'ami de Luther ; il rompit avec lui lors- 
 qu'il reconnut que les emportemens de ce 
 fougueux reformateur pouvaient amener de 
 grandes calamites , et il usa contre la reforme 
 de I'arme du ridicule qu'il maniait avec une 
 grande facility. « On a beau vouloir, diisait-il 
 al'occasion dumariage d'QEcolampade , qnele 
 lutheranisme soit une chose tragique ; poiir 
 moi , je suis persuade que rien n'est plus co- 
 
2;78 VIE 
 
 mique , car le denounient de la piece est tou- 
 jours quelque maciag^. » Ces sarcasmes et la 
 publication de ses Collfiques , qui parureut en 
 1 52 2 , lui attirerent la haine des reformateurs 
 qui commen9aient k devenir noriibreux. Craj- 
 gnant les eflFets de leur fureur il s^ retira a 
 Fribourg, en iSag , ouil re9ut Taccueil leplus 
 flatteur et fut loge aux frais de I'etat dans un 
 superbe hotel. Il passa six ans dans cette ville 
 et ne revint k Bale qu'en i535. Ce fut alors 
 que le pape Paul III lui oflfrit le chapeau de 
 cardinal avec des benefices considerables, Mais 
 Erasme , accable d'infirmites, voulait mourir 
 comme il avait vecu , c'est-a)-dire dans I'inde- 
 pendance : il refusa les bienfaits que voulait 
 lui proi^iguer le pontife , et bientot apres , 
 epuise par des souffrances qu'il augmentait en- 
 core par un travail assidu , il expira dans la 
 nuit du 11 au la Juillet de I'an i536. 
 
 Les funerailles de ce grand homme lurent 
 magnifiques ; le senat en corps y assista , et 
 les etudians de I'universite^, dont il ^tait rec- 
 teur , se (Jisputerent I'honneur de porter ses 
 depouilles mortelles. Pres de trois siecles se 
 sont dcQul^s depuis , et la memoire d'Erasme 
 
D'^RASME. 279 
 
 est toujours en v^n«5ration kBSle ; on conserve 
 soigneusement dans cette ville I'annpau , le 
 cachet , I'ep^e , le couteau , lo poin? on de ce 
 c^l^bre ecrivain , ainsi que son testament t5crit 
 en entier de sa main. 
 
 La ville de Rotterdam , sa patrie , fi^re d'a- 
 voir vu naitre Erasme , lui ^rigea une statue 
 de bois en 1 54o. Dix-sept ans plus tard on lui 
 en eleva une en pierre bleue que les Espagnols 
 bris^rent et jet^rent dans la Meuse , apres 
 s'6tre empar^s de la ville en i Sya. Enfin, apr^s 
 I'expulsion des Espagnols , Henri de Keisel , 
 c^l^bre sculpteur en fit une en bronze, qui 
 passe pour son chef-d'oeuvre. EUe est sur un 
 pi^destal de marbre et entouree d'une balus- 
 trade de fer. Erasme est repr^sente en habit de 
 docteur , un livre a la main. Cette statue est 
 plac^e sur le pont du grand march^. 
 
 Les habitans de Rotterdam firent aussi graver 
 cette inscription sur la facade de la chetive 
 maison ou il dtait nt^ : 
 
 » 
 
 Heee parva domus , magnus qua natus Erasmus. 
 " G'est dans cette petite maison qu'est nd le grand Erasnie. » 
 
 Un trait rapporte par . Bayle pourra donner 
 
aSo ' VIE 
 
 une idt^e du caractere enjoue d'Erasme. Un 
 jour que ce savant avait un abces au visage , il 
 chercha a se distraire par la lecture des Petites 
 (ettres , ouvrage qui parut dans ce temps, sous 
 le titre d'Epistolm obscworwn virorum , et dans 
 lequel I'ignorance etlapresomption des moines 
 et des theologiens dti temps sont peintes avec 
 beaueoup de naivete dans le jargon barbare d'a- 
 lors. Erasme prit lant deplaisir a cette lecture, 
 et rit de si grand cceur , que I'abces creva de 
 lui-mfeme, et que le maladefut gueri. «Ne met- 
 tra-t-on point cette anecdote , dit Bayle , parmi 
 les exemples du profit de la lecture ? » 
 
 Ce savant s'occupa cependant beaueoup lui- 
 mfeme de theologie ; mais 11 fut le premier qui 
 traita ceS nlatieres dune maniere noble , et 
 degagee du langage barbare et des subtilites 
 ridicules de 1 ecole. 
 
 Voici le portrait que fait d'Erasme I'un de 
 ses historiens : « Get homme celebre etait de 
 petite taille , avait le regard agreable , la voix 
 douce , et la prononciation belle ; il ^tait tou- 
 jours vfetu d'une maniere propre et decente. 
 II avait ^te toute sa vie d'une complexion de- 
 licate ; aussi avait-il obtenu du pape une dis- 
 
D'ERASME. 281 
 
 pense pour faire gras les jours maigres, parce 
 qu'il avait, disait-il en riant, I'ame catholique 
 €t I'estomac luthdrien. Avec une iSant^ sifaible, 
 il fut,. sur la fin de ses jours , tourmente par la 
 goutte et la gravelle , et Ton ne conpoit pas 
 comment au milieu de ses voyages continuels 
 il a pu sufEre k tant 4''0uvrages. Personne n'a 
 eu plus d'admirateurs et de curieux. On compte 
 parmi les premiers les princes etles litterateurs 
 ses contemporains ,et une foule d'hommes il- 
 lustres dans tous les genres. On ne peut en eflfet 
 lui refusjer la gloire d'avoir ete le plus bel es- 
 prit et le savant le plus universel de son siecle. 
 C'est lui qui tira I'AlIemagne de la barbarie ; 
 c'est a lui principalement que le nord de I'Eu- 
 rope dut la renaissance des lettres , les premie- 
 res editions de plusieurs peres de I'^glise , les 
 regies d'une saine critique, et le gout de I'anti- 
 qyite. Ennemiduluxe, sobre, peut-6tre un peu 
 trop railleur , mais sans amertume ; libre dans 
 ses sentimens, sincere , ennemi de la flatterie, 
 il fut bon ami, et constant dans ses amities; 
 il etait genereux , et, se souvenant de la g^ne 
 qu'il avait eprouvee dans ses premieres etudes, 
 il aimait surtout a aider les jeunes etudians qui 
 
282 VIE D'ERASME. 
 
 donnaient de grandes esperances. Sa conver- 
 sation etait pleine de sailligs et de gaiet'^ ; en- 
 fin rhomme aimable ne le cedait pas chez lui 
 au savant profond , a I'ecrivain du premier 
 ordre. » 
 
 Outre les ouvrages de ce cel^bre auteur 
 dont nous avons parl^, et plusieurs autres 
 maintenant oublies, on remarque encore un 
 recueil de ses lettres qui sont sans contredit ce 
 que Ton a de mieux en ce genre ; le style en 
 est agreable , naturel , et la lecture attachante, 
 cependant Erasme refusa long-temps de les 
 laisser imprimer : « Je Grains, disait-il , que les 
 ayant ecrites a mes amis, il ne me soit echappe 
 quelque chose qui puisse ofiFenser quelqu'un. » 
 Ce trait sufiGirait seul pour peindre I'ame de ce 
 grand homme qui fut , a juste titre , surnomme 
 le flambeau de son siecle. 
 
THE 
 
 THEOLOGICAL EEVIEW. 
 
 No. XXL— April, 1868. 
 
 r— t: " — -m~. 
 
 ■ . t|_ 
 
 I.— EEASMUS IN ENGLAND. 
 
 In the year 1498,* Erasmus paid his first visit to England. 
 There his name was not wholly unknown ; for, although he 
 had not yet published any of his great works, some early 
 literary efforts were in private circulation, and English 
 visitors to Paris who were interested in the progress of 
 learning might have heard enough to induce them to seek 
 his acquaintance. But there was another circumstance 
 which had enabled him to establish friendly relations with 
 this country. While pursuing his own studies in Paris, the 
 necessities of his purse compelled him to take pupils, and 
 the warmth of his feelings led him to attach himself to 
 these pupUs with no common affection. Indeed, Erasmus 
 must have been the most delightful of preceptors. The 
 letters of this period shew with what enthusiasm he entered 
 into his work, and with what fondness he regarded the 
 young men entrusted to his care. In one of them he almost 
 exhausts the vocabulary of Latin Billingsgate in heaping 
 
 * It is very diiEcult to determine whet^^r "Erasmus went to England in the 
 Bummer of 1497 or 1498r, but there is no abubt that he left it early in the year 
 1499. The dates of his letters imply that he visited Oxford first in 1497, 
 returned to Paris about Christmas, and again crossed the channel the following 
 Bummer. But it is clear that the dates of the letters are not to be implicitly relied, 
 upon, some of them being manifestly erroneous ; and I find no internal evidence 
 of two visits at this time. In favour of the earlier date for his arrival may be 
 urged the statement that Colet was "aboiit^jlhirty" when he first made his 
 acquaintance, Colet having been bom in 14^ ; but this statement was made 
 many years after, and can scarcely be considered conclusive. On the other hand, 
 there is nothing to shew that Erasmus was so'.lpng as a year and a half in Eng- 
 land. I assume accordingly, as agreeing best jQn the whole with such evidence 
 as we have, though not as altogether certain, that he crossed to England some 
 time in the summer of 1498, and remained there eight or nine months. 
 
 VOL. V. N 
 
1 64 Erasmus in England. 
 
 playful abuse upon Christian, himself a former pupil, for 
 having removed his younger brother Henry from under his 
 charge; and another, written in the name of this Henry, 
 who would seem to have been a special favourite, shews 
 that he aimed to mingle pleasure with his instructions, 
 and to excite in the minds of his pupils the same ardour 
 for learning which he felt himself. His extensive reading 
 and tenacious memory enabled him to entertain them with 
 stories from the classics ; and during their walks among 
 the vineyards on the banks of the Seine he would declaim 
 in eloquent commonplace against the meanness of busi- 
 ness and in praise of learning, telling them that was the 
 only lasting riches, which fortune could neither give nor 
 take away ; that it increased by use, instead of diminish- 
 ing, &c. ; that, in short, without it we are not even men. 
 Literature, according to the same letter, was not only the 
 business of the day, but its sole occupation. "At dinner 
 the talk is of letters ; our suppers are made sumptuous with 
 literary seasoning. When we go to walk we chat about 
 letters, and they are even introduced into our games ; we 
 converse about them until sleep steals over us, and then our 
 very dreams are learned ; when we waken in the morning 
 we begin the day with letters." That was indeed a literary 
 life. And Paris being at this time a resort for students 
 from all parts of Europe, and Erasmus being without a rival 
 as a teacher, the number of young men from different coun- 
 tries who passed through his hands must have been consi- 
 derable. Amongst these were some, possibly not a few, 
 young Englishmen, but especially two of noble birth and 
 destined to positions of influence, WUliam Blount, Lord 
 Mountjoy, and Thomas Grey, son of the Marquis of Dorset. 
 Between these young noblemen and the student of Eot- 
 terdam subsisted the most cordial friendship, a friendship 
 which continued through life. And by them, and by others 
 like them, the name of Erasmus was carried to England, 
 whither he himself was now to proceed at the invitation of 
 Mountjoy. 
 
 The Universities were of course the great attraction for 
 Erasmus in England, and to Oxford accordingly he repaired 
 at once, carrying with him letters of recommendation to 
 Father Eichard Charnock, Prior of the Canons Eegular of 
 St. Augustine (of which order he was himself a member) 
 
Eramnus in England, 165 
 
 and head of St. Mary's College. In external aspect,- Oxford 
 did not at that time differ very widely from its present 
 appearance. Its noble Colleges, most of which are older 
 than the Eeformation, were there, only fresher and more 
 beautiful than they are now ; and yet even then the senti- 
 ment of antiquity was not wanting for those who remem- 
 bered that the University dated — such at least was the 
 common belief — from the reign of King Alfred. Its beau- 
 tiful academic gardens, "studious walks and shades," then 
 as now invited to meditation. But although Oxford has 
 retained to the present hour so much of its mediaeval 
 character, it was yet (to a considerable extent peopled by 
 another world ; it was a very different set of ideas that 
 circulated among its students. Monks of various orders — 
 black Benedictines or Augustiriians and grey Franciscans — 
 might be seen mingling with the scarlet robes of the Doctors 
 and the gay colours of the Bachelors. Among those learned 
 men the language of Chaucer was probably seldom heard. 
 Corrupt Latin — at this time, however, gradually becoming 
 purer as the ancient classics were more studied — was the 
 universal medium of communication in the world of letters, 
 and Erasmus, who was obliged to apologize to one of his 
 Dutch correspondents for writing to him in Latin on the 
 plea of his imperfect acquaintance with his own language, 
 had no difficulty in making himself understood at Oxford. 
 The old Trivium, embracing Grammar, Dialectics and Ehe- 
 toric, and the Quadrimiim,, comprising Music, Arithmetic, 
 Geometry and Astronomy, were believed to complete the 
 circle of the Arts ; but these studies were pursued not by 
 any independent method, but only as they were presented 
 in wretched mediaeval hand-books or bad Latin versions of 
 the Arabic translations of Aristotle. The great Latin classics 
 were beginning to be read by more enterpi'izing students, 
 but the corrupt writers of the Middle Ages still swayed the 
 class-rooms, aided by the grammars of Priscian, and Bootius 
 was preferred to Cicero and Horace. As. for Greek, it was 
 almost unknown. Ten years before the arrival of Erasmus, 
 some Italians had visited Oxford and given lectures on that 
 language, but without any marked success. Already, indeed, 
 it was regarded with some suspicion, but not yet with the 
 dislike and hatred which it subsequently provoked, when 
 with the growing freedom of the human mind it came to be 
 
 n2 
 
166 Erasmiis in England. 
 
 spoken of by the adversaries of learning as the fountain of 
 all heresies. It need scarcely be added that the scholastic 
 philosophy — that grand attempt to establish the theology 
 of the Eoman Church on the basis of logic, and reconcile 
 Aristotle with St. Augustine — still reigned supreme. Nomi- 
 nalists and Eealists, Thomists and Scotists, still divided the 
 field between them ; still disputed with unabated enthu- 
 siasm about instants, essences and quiddities ; still discussed 
 with unflagging interest whether the Deity could have taken 
 the form of any creature but a man,* whether the Pope was 
 greater than St. Peter, whether the Virgin Mary was in- 
 structed in the liberal arts, or what was the colour of her 
 hair. One man, indeed, was already raising a modest pro- 
 test against this so-called philosophy ; but had its advocates 
 understood the signs of the times, had they foreseen that 
 they were about to be assailed, not with their own weapons, 
 in the use of which they were probably skilful enough, but 
 with the far more deadly shafts of endless raillery and wit, 
 of vast learning and indomitable industry, they might well 
 hii'.e trembled at the name of Erasmus. 
 
 At Oxford, Erasmus met with at least a few congenial 
 spirits, interested in the same studies with himself, filled 
 with the same contempt for monkish ignorance and stupid- 
 ity, and looking forward with the same hopes to the triumph 
 of learning. There was Linacre, afterwards physician to 
 Henry VIII., the most painstaking of scholars, the most 
 accurate of grammarians, a man of very varied learning, 
 and one of the first to go from this country to Italy for 
 the purpose of acquiring a knowledge of Greek. There was 
 Grocyn, who, along with Linacre, had returned a few years 
 before from Italy, where both had studied Greek at Florence 
 under Demetrius Chalcondyles and Politian, and who was 
 now giving public instructions in that language. There was 
 Thomas Latimer, also an excellent Grecian, an accomplished 
 theologian, a man of eminent ability and of "more than 
 virgin modesty." There was young Thomas More, the future 
 Chancellor of England, at that time a lad of seventeen, of 
 the most excellent promise and of manners the most gentle 
 and winning. And there was another Thomas, and another 
 
 * I put the question in a form that may be as little shocking to the reader 
 as pos.sible. Erasmus states it thus — Num Deus potuerit Diabolum aut Aslnum 
 a.s,suiiiere. 
 
Erasmus in England. 167 
 
 future Chancellor, Wolsey, then bursar of Magdalen College. 
 But the man who possessed most interest for Erasmus and 
 exercised most influence over him was Colet, afterwards 
 Dean of St. Paul's and founder of St. Paul's School.! Of this 
 eminent man it will be necessary to subjoin a somewhat 
 fuller notice, for which we are chiefly indebted to his warm 
 admirer and friend, the scholar of Eotterdam. 
 
 Colet was born in London in the year 1466, the eldest, 
 and at the time that Erasmus first made his acquaintance 
 the only survivor, of a family of eleven sons and as many 
 daughters. His father was Sir Henry Colet, an eminent 
 citizen, and twice Lord Mayor, of London. Sent to Oxford 
 at the age of seventeen, he went through the regular course 
 of study and distinguished himself in every branch, not 
 only giving much time, as was required of him, to the 
 scholastic philosophy, but reading Cicero with the utmost 
 eagerness, and making himself master of Plato and Ploti- 
 nus. He was besides an excellent mathematiciaa Having 
 taken his degree of M.A., he went abroad about the year 
 ,1493, visiting France first and afterwards Italy. Before 
 this, however, he had determined to enter the Church, and 
 indeed already, according to the evil practice of the times, 
 had been presented, though he was not even in deacon's 
 orders, to no less than three livings and one prebend. In 
 Italy he devoted himself entirely to the study of theo- 
 logy ; and the works of the Fathers, especially Ambrose, 
 Cyprian, Origen, and Jerome, whom he greatly preferred to 
 Augustine, were read with enthusiasm, while the works of 
 the schoolmen, though much less to his taste, were not 
 neglected. Nor did the young divine altogether despise the 
 literature of his own country. Colet desired to prepare 
 himself for preaching the gospel to the people, and as 
 Erasmus tells us that he polished his language by studying 
 the writings of those who had done for England what 
 Dante and Petrarch did for Italy (probably Erasmus had 
 just heard the name of Geoffrey Chaucer at Oxford), we 
 may be sure he had taken some deep draughts from the 
 "well of English undefiled." On his return to England, 
 Colet again took up his residence at Oxford, and immedi- 
 ately began a course of public and gratuitous lectures on 
 the Epistles of Paul. The lectures at once attracted notice. 
 Boldly throwing off the trammels of the scholastic divinity 
 
168 Erasmus in England. 
 
 and approaching the subject naturally and rationally, Colet 
 treated the Epistles as actual memorials of the apostle and 
 his age, and not as a mere armoury of theological weapons ; 
 and such freshness and interest did he succeed in imparting 
 to the subject, that, although he had not yet taken any 
 degree in theology, perhaps, however, partly because he 
 ■was known rather to despise such degrees, the Doctors and 
 Dons came crowding to hear him, bringing their note-books 
 in their hands* It might well be suspected that some 
 of his audience were led by other motives than curiosity or 
 the desire of profiting by his instructions. To have been 
 in Italy was itself a suspicious circumstance ; to be opposed 
 to scholasticism was worse ; and besides Colet was known 
 to have little respect for the University degrees in theology. 
 He was, moreover, not entirely innocent of Greek, though 
 his knowledge of that language was by no means extensive. 
 It does not appear, however, that any heresy was found 
 in his lectures. The degree of Doctor of Divinity was 
 eventually conferred upon him unsolicited, and he accepted 
 it, says Erasmus, rather to comply with the wishes of those 
 who thought him worthy of it than as having himself 
 desired it. 
 
 When Erasmi^s arrived at Oxford, the first to welcome 
 him, after Father Chamock, was Colet. He was then 
 thirty-one years of age, of a tall and elegant person, the 
 sweetest manners and the utmost purity and simplicity of 
 life. He told his friend, surely with some little exaggera- 
 tion, that he had been naturally of an exceedingly proud 
 disposition, most impatient of wrong, with a strange pro- 
 pensity to love, luxuiy and sleep ; fond of mirth and 
 pleasantry, and not altogether free from covetousness ; biit 
 
 * The reader will find a fnller and very interesting aeconnt of these lectures 
 in Mr. Seebohm's "Oxford Reformers of 1498." That Colet's theology was 
 founded on a much more natural interpretation of Scripture than that of the 
 schoolmen is clear. But whether it had come wholly under the dominion of 
 common sense, even according to the standard of that age, the following passage 
 from Knight's Life of Colet may perhaps render doubtful : — "In his comment 
 on 1 Cor. vi. he doth scarce allow going to law ; and in the viiith chapter of 
 the same Epistle he allows not marriage to be iiwful ; but only as a remedy 
 contra mcontinenticmi. . . . Nor did he think it necessary that Christians should 
 marry for the begetting of children ; for that (saith he) might le left to the 
 Gentiles. — But what if the Gentiles should he converted? — Then (saith he) 
 the Kiyigdom of God was come ; then wovZd the world be Sanctns et animo et 
 corpore ; then wovJ4 the end be and Qod all in all, &c." Introd. p. xii. 
 
Erasmus in England. . 169 
 
 so strenuously had he fought against those vices with the 
 aid of philosophy, the study of divinity, watching, fasting 
 and prayer, that he had preserved himself pure from all 
 worldly stains. As a student he was indefatigable, in his 
 pleasures extremely moderate ; and it was only when he 
 entered into conversation with ladies or engaged in an 
 encounter of raillery with the wits of the University, that 
 he permitted his natural mirthfulness to overcome his ac- 
 quired gravity. It was seldom, however, that he went into 
 mixed company, and when he did, he contrived to sit beside 
 some grave divine with whom he might converse in Latin, 
 so avoiding the light or worldly talk of the dinner-table. 
 He took particular pleasure in the society of children, and 
 used often to recal how Christ had compared them with 
 angels, and exhorted his disciples to imitate them. 
 
 The first interchange of civilities between the two scholars 
 was by letter. Colet wrote a warm greeting to Erasmus, 
 telling him he had heard of him in Paris, and had been 
 shewn a letter of his which excited his curiosity, and gave 
 him the impression of having been written by a man of 
 great learning and wide general knowledge. ; " But," he 
 adds, " what particularly recommends you to me is, that the 
 reverend Father whose guest you are told me yesterday that 
 in his opinion you are a most excellent man and endowed 
 with singular goodness." Then, after a few more compli- 
 mentary phrases, the writer concludes, as is natural, by 
 expressing his anxiety to do what lies in his power to make 
 the visit of Erasmus as agreeable to him as he feels sure it 
 win be advantageous to England. The reply of Erasmus 
 is much longer, much more elaborate, more profuse of com- 
 pliments, and with a greater affectation of modesty. The 
 praise of a man like Colet, he says, is of more value to him 
 than that of a whole army of the illiterate. Yet so far 
 from making him feel proud, it humiliates him to be told he 
 possesses those qualities which he venerates in others, but 
 is conscious of wanting himself He will not, however, find 
 fault either with those who so affectionately recommended 
 him, or with Colet's readiness to receive their recommenda- 
 tion, since it is natural for a humane man to think well of 
 strangers, and of a kindly one to give ready credence to 
 friends. Accordingly he values his judgment as friendly, 
 though he cannot approve of it as true ; not because he 
 
170 Erasmus in England. 
 
 thinks his correspondent an incompetent judge, inasmuch 
 as he knows him to he a man of remarkable discernment, 
 nor suspects him of flattery, since he is not ignorant of 
 the simplicity of his nature, hvA because he was misled by 
 his own extraordinary candour and modesty to listen too 
 favourably to the praises of others. But lest his friend 
 should complain that he had been imposed upon with bad 
 goods, Erasmus volunteers a portrait of himself, which he 
 says will be the more true to life in proportion as he knows 
 himself better than any one else : — " You will find a man 
 of small fortune, or rather none at all ; without ambition, 
 but most ready to return affection ; with but a slight tincture 
 of letters, it is true, but still a most ardent admirer of 
 them ; who has a religious veneration for excellence in 
 others, but has none of his own ; who may be easily sur- 
 passed in learning by any one, but in fidelity by none: 
 simple, open, frank, unskilled a:iike to affect and to dis- 
 semble ; of small but unimpaired ability, sparing in his 
 speech ; in short, one from whom you have nothing to expect 
 but good-will." England, he continues, has such attractions 
 for him chiefly on account of its abundance of learned 
 men, "among whom I count you by far the first." And 
 then the letter concludes with a description of Colet's style. 
 " Nor shall I now describe, most excellent Sir, how much I 
 have been charmed and delighted with your style, so smooth, 
 so calm, so unaffected, flowing from your well-stored mind 
 like a fountain of purest water, equal, uniform, clear, sim- 
 ple, full of modesty, with no violations of taste, no compli- 
 cated or obscure sentences ; so that I cannot be wrong in 
 thinking I see in your letter as it were an image of your 
 mind. You say what you mean, you mean what you say. 
 Words born in the heart, not on the tongue, follow the sense 
 spontaneously, not the sense the words. Finally, with a 
 happy ease, you pour out without trouble what it would 
 cost another the utmost labour to express. But I will for- 
 bear to praise you, lest I should offend one who has shewn 
 me such kindness. I know that they are most unwilling 
 to^be praised who of aU men most deserve it. Farewell." 
 
 Ipoth these letters were more artificial than any one would 
 think of writing now, but that was to be expected from 
 men writing a learned language, and conscious that every 
 •word woltid be criticised. They were, however, the begin- 
 
Erasmus in England. 171 
 
 ning of a friendship which ended only with death. It was 
 probably not long after this that Erasmus was present at a 
 College dinner-party — described by him in a letter to a 
 friend who was to have been there — at which Colet presided, 
 when a discussion arose as to the cause of Cain's rejection. 
 Colet maintained the fanciful notion that Cain's offence 
 consisted in the distrust of the Creator's goodness, and con- 
 fidence in his own industry, which he shewed in becoming 
 the first tiller of the ground, while Abel, content with the 
 spontaneous produce of the earth, was a keeper of sheep ; 
 a more rational interpretation, however, it must be con- 
 fessed, than that of the popular orthodoxy of our own day. 
 "What view Erasmus adopted is not said ; only he and the 
 rest of the company opposed Colet, who, however, was a 
 match for them aU. According to the account of Erasmus, 
 he was transported with enthusiasm, his tone changed, his 
 eyes flashed, his face was transfigured, he seemed like one 
 inspired. The discussion had lasted long, and was becoming 
 too hot to be agreeable, when our clever Erasmus brought 
 it to a close in the happiest way. Nimbly changing sides 
 — no doubt his friend's arguments had really convinced him 
 — he proceeded to narrate a story which he pretended to 
 have found in an old moth-eaten manuscript, in which he 
 made Cain's laborious toil, and the gi'eediness by which it 
 was prompted, a part of his offence, but added thereto a 
 theft perpetrated on the produce of Eden by the connivance 
 of the angel that guarded its gates. Colet had no doubt 
 laid himself open to ridicule by seeming to make industry 
 a sin ; but the strong point of his position was, that Cain 
 was rejected for something wrong in his own conduct or 
 motives, and not, as was probably maintained on the other 
 side, for having offered a bloodless sacrifice. And here 
 Erasmus came effectually to his aid. The fable is told with 
 all its author's graces of rhetoric, but if it has not been 
 extended and adorned, as is probable, for the entertainment 
 of his correspondent and the admiration of posterity, the 
 hearers must have begun to yawn before it was concluded. 
 It produced, however, the desired effect of restoring peace. 
 Tlie end, which is all that can be inserted here, is, that 
 God, seeing how Cain delighted in toil, resolved to give him 
 more than enough of it, and accordingly sent among his 
 crops armies of ants, weevils, toads, caterpillars, mice, birds, 
 
172 Erasmus in England. 
 
 and all sorts of destructive creatures, to attack them in 
 every stage of their growth. " Cain endeavoured to appease 
 God by an offering of fruits, but finding that the smoke 
 would not ascend, he perceived that God's anger was fixed 
 against him, and accordingly abandoned hope." 
 
 On another occasion Erasmus took the part of the scho- 
 lastics against Colet, and maintained it, notwithstanding 
 his great, perhaps excessive, respect for the learning of his 
 opponent ; and this time it so happened that the divines 
 were on that side which would be now generally allowed 
 to be the side of reason and common sense. The subject 
 of discussion was the agony of Christ in the garden, and 
 the words in which he seemed to pray that he might escape 
 from death — " my Father, if it be possible, let this cup 
 pass from me." The received explanation at that time was, 
 that " Christ as true man, being in that hour unsupported 
 by the aid of his divinity, shrank from the appalling suf- 
 fering which was then at hand, through that infirmity which 
 he had assumed along with many other imperfections of 
 our nature ;" and that explanation Erasmus adopted so far 
 as to maintain very decidedly the presence of this human 
 weakness, though he was willing to allow that there might 
 be various meanings in the sacred text, the Word of God 
 being manifold. Colet, on the other hand, argued that it 
 was inconsistent with the great love of Christ to pray that 
 he might escape that death which he had before so ear- 
 nestly desired for our sakes, and that it was absurd in the 
 extreme to suppose that while so many martyrs had not 
 only met the most cruel tortures without fear, but had wel- 
 comed them with joy, their love conquering all sense of 
 pain, Christ, who was love itself, and had come into the 
 world for no other end than by his own death to deliver us 
 who were subject to death, could have shrunk either from 
 the shame or the pain of the cross. Accordingly, Colet 
 would refer the sorrow of Christ to anything rather than 
 fear of death ; and his opinion, which he supported by the 
 authority of Jerome, who, he said, had alone seen the truth 
 on this question, was, that " our Saviour Jesus prayed for 
 nothing else than that his death, which he desired should 
 be the salvation of the whole world, might not be ruinous 
 to the Jews." This most unnatural interpretation Erasmus 
 discussed at great length in a treatise, written in the form 
 
Erasmm in England. 173 
 
 of a letter to Colet, in which he set forth with great candour 
 and learning the arguments which had been urged on either 
 side in the conversation of the preceding afternoon. His 
 argument in this disputation-kin (disputatiuneula), as he 
 is pleased to call it, which he amplifies with any amount of 
 rhetorical language and illustrates with great wealth of 
 classical allusion, may he very briefly stated. Christ, in 
 taking upon him the nature of man, took with it also all 
 those imperfections which, though they are among the con- 
 sequences of the first sin, are not themselves sinful. Such 
 are hunger, thirst, fatigue and so forth, and amongst these 
 is the fear of death. If it is argued that a brave man does 
 not fear death, it may be answered that fortitude does not 
 consist in insensibility to danger, but in overcoming the 
 natural dread of approaching evils so far as to encounter 
 them manfully, and that both Homer and Virgil describe 
 their heroes as shewing all the outward signs of terror. If 
 it is argued that Peter, a sinful man, was possessed by so 
 deep a love for Christ that he lost all sense of fear and was 
 ready to lay down his life for his sake, and that it is there- 
 fore monstrous to attribute to Christ the fear of death and 
 at the same time the most absolute love, it is ingeniously 
 replied that, while in us one feeling flows in upon and 
 absorbs another, in him each power of mind and body dis- 
 charged its natural function independently of all others, so 
 that the love for mankind which made Jesus willing to 
 ascend the cross, and the fear of death which made him 
 shrink from it, existed side by side, neither feeling intruding 
 upon or diminishing the other. That so many, both heathen 
 and Christian, martyrs should have embraced death with 
 alacrity and even joy, is felt to be a great difficulty, and 
 full justice is done by Erasmus to the argument thence in 
 his opponent's favour ; and his answer, that the martyrs 
 were endowed with fortitude through another's virtue, not 
 their own, whereas Christ in the moment of suffering was 
 deserted by his divinity, is from the rational point of view 
 less satisfactory than most of his reasoning. Erasmus, 
 however, is so far from granting to Colet that his own view 
 takes anything from Christ's love, as to maintain that it even 
 enhances it. Eor, whereas Christ took upon him the nature 
 of man of his own accord, it was his love for mankind 
 which prompted him to assume that very weakness through 
 
174 Eragmus in England. 
 
 which he shrank from death, and in this light " the more 
 imperfections you attribute to him (saving those which are 
 sinful or unworthy), the more you will illustrate the love of 
 the Saviour." And Erasmus finally is carried so far as to 
 assert that Christ had assumed " a bodily frame than which 
 there was never any other more sensitive to cold, heat, 
 fatigue, want and pain, and a soul in all its faculties of the 
 very keenest feeling." It is noteworthy, as indicating the 
 theological position of both men, that this treatise nowhere 
 suggests the view which at once occurs to the mind as the 
 received orthodoxy of our own day — namely, that the 
 agony was occasioned, not by the anticipation of death, 
 even of a death fraught with all the significance of the 
 crucifixion, but by the foreknowledge that the vials of 
 God's wrath were about to be poured out on the sufferer. 
 Erasmus does indeed regard the death of Christ as a ransom 
 for the world ; but his language is cautious and reverential, 
 and as far as possible removed from the revolting extrava- 
 gances which Luther afterwards wrote upon the same sub- 
 ject. "It was fitting," he says, "that that death should be 
 as bitter as possible which was paid for so many deaths, 
 which was to wash away the sins of the whole world." 
 His doctrine appears to have been — and it was probably 
 that of Colet also — that Christ by his life and sufferings 
 provided "an inexhaustible treasury of merits," sufficient 
 not only to blot out original sin, but to leave a surplus 
 which might be applied to the expiation of our daily faults. 
 As regards the question between them, Colet was not con- 
 vinced by the arguments of his friend. He wrote a cour- 
 teous note, thanking him for the pleasure he had derived 
 from his very long but most agreeable letter, and acknow- 
 ledging the accuracy with which he had remembered their 
 conversation, and his learning and eloquence. He declared, 
 however, that he still retained the opinion he had imbibed 
 from Jerome, and enclosed the first instalment of his reply. 
 In this he merely disputes the preliminary position of his 
 friend, that the Scriptures are susceptible of a variety of 
 constructions, maintaining that their fruitfulness consists 
 not in their yielding many senses, but in their yielding one 
 true one. A note from the hand of Erasmus himself inti- 
 mates that the correspondence on Colet's part was continued, 
 but the remainder has been lost. 
 
Erasmus in England. 175 
 
 The Disputatiwncula de tcedio et pavore has another than 
 a theological interest, as indicating the progress Erasmus 
 had at that time made in the study of Greek. Greek words 
 here and there throughout the treatise shew that neither he 
 nor his correspondent was entirely ignorant of the language, 
 but two circumstances would seem to indicate that to the 
 writer Greek literature was still to a great extent a terra 
 ignota. After quoting several passages from the ^neid in 
 illustration of his argument that insensibility to danger is 
 no mark of a brave man, he adds, "the same thing has 
 been noticed by the learned in the Homeric poetry," nor 
 is there in the whole composition any quotation from a 
 Greek author. There are, however, signs of some degree 
 of familiarity with Plato, though not necessarily in the ori- 
 ginal But the most remarkable circumstance is, that he 
 seems to be quite unacquainted with the Greek Testament ; 
 for not only does he invariably quote it in Latin, but he 
 actually founds an argument on the pronoun iste (not the 
 exact equivalent of tovto) in the words, Transeat a me calix 
 iste. Such is the force of habit, that he actually forgets, and 
 expects his opponent to forget, that the New Testament 
 was written in Greek, and quotes the Vulgate as though it 
 had all the authority of inspiration ! But, after all, this 
 need not have been an oversight. If Erasmus and Colet 
 might have hesitated to affirm that the Vulgate was in- 
 spired, at aU events it was customary to argue from its text 
 as if there were no original to appeal to beyond it. 
 
 Notwithstanding such differences as these, which indeed 
 were only sufficient to cement their friendship, there were 
 at least two things in which there was complete sympathy 
 between Erasmus and Colet. These were dislike of the 
 monastic system and enmity to the schoolmen. Colet, whose 
 mind had been more systematically directed to the study of 
 divinity than that of Erasmus, was probably the first to 
 revolt from the ingenious subtleties which constituted the 
 theology of those days ; and in this respect he would seem 
 even to have exercised some direct influence on the mind 
 of his more accomplished and less cautious friend. He 
 used to say, Erasmus tells us, but only in the presence of 
 those on whom he could rely, that he considered the Sco- 
 tisfcs, who were vulgarly credited with extraordinary acute- 
 ness, dull and stupid fellows ; for to dissect minutely the 
 
176 Erasmus in England-. 
 
 words and sentences of others, and criticise now this point 
 and now that, — that, he said, was the mark of a barren 
 understanding. But for some cause or other — probably he 
 had lost much time in reading the ponderous folios which 
 contain his works — ^he was still more severe upon Aquinas. / 
 Upon one occasion, when Erasmus was praising the great/ 
 schoolman, especially his Aurea Catena, which he thought 
 was a valuable aid to the understanding of the Bible and 
 the Fathers, Colet avoided expressing any opinion ; but in 
 another conversation, on the renewal of the subject, fixing 
 his eyes upon him to discover whether he was serious 
 in his recommendations of Aquinas which he was now 
 urging with vehemence, and perceiving that he was speak- 
 ing from his heart, he exclaimed, as if he had been suddenly 
 inspired, " Why do you preach to me of a man like that, 
 who must have had boundless arrogance, else he would not 
 have been so rash and presumptuous as to define all things ; 
 and much of the spirit of the world, else he would not have 
 contaminated the whole doctrine of Christ with his own 
 profane philosophy ?" Erasmus was struck with his friend's 
 enthusiasm, and , forthwith began to study the writings of 
 Aquinas. The result was, that the esteem in which he- 
 had hitherto held them was speedily dispelled. 
 
 The controversy regarding the passion of Christ took 
 place shortly after the first acquaintance of Erasmus and 
 Colet, and the conversation just referred to probably occur- 
 red about the same time or even earlier. We must now 
 for a moment follow our versatile theologian into different 
 scenes ; for in the Christmas vacation of 1498-1499, he 
 ran up to London to see his friend Mountjoy, and spent 
 the time merrily — the gayest of the gay, associating with 
 great men and courtiers, laughing, feasting, kissing the 
 fair and bowing to every one. " We have made some pro- 
 gress in England," he assures a friend in a letter writ- 
 ten in the very best of spirits, -evidently from the midst 
 of those gaieties. "Your old acquaintance Erasmus has 
 become a tolerable huntsman, no bad rider, and a most 
 accomplished courtier; he makes a good. bow and wears a 
 pleasant smile ; and all this in spite of nature. ... If you 
 knew the wealth of Britain, you would put wings on your 
 feet and flly hither; or if your gout prevented you, you 
 would surely wish to be a Dsedalus. Eor to mention but 
 
Erasmus in England. 177 
 
 one thing out of a great many : there are here ladies di- 
 vinely beautiful, — the kindest and most fasginating crea- 
 tures — far before the Muses whom you worship. There 
 is besides a custom which can never be praised enough. 
 Wherever you come you are welcomed with kisses, and the 
 same on your departure ; you return — kisses again ; you 
 are visited, kisses are offered ; your friends take their leave, 
 more kisses ; you meet an acquaintance anywhere, imme- 
 diately kisses : in short, wherever you turn, the air is filled 
 with kisses. And if you had once tasted how delicate and 
 fragrant they are, you would certainly desire, not for ten 
 years only, like Solon, but tUl death, to be a sojourner in 
 England." 
 
 It was during this winter vacation that Erasmus was 
 first introduced to the future King of England, Henry, then 
 Duke of York, his elder brother Arthur being still alive. 
 He was staying with his friend Mountjoy on his estate at 
 Greenwich when More came to visit him, and under the 
 pretence of a walk carried him away to Eltham, where the 
 royal children were receiving their education. They were 
 playing iu a large hall when Erasmus and More entered, 
 and Henry, a manly little fellow, who had just attained his 
 ninth year, advanced politely to meet them, accompanied 
 by his sister Margaret upon one side, and Mary, then a 
 child of four, upon the other. Arthur was not present, and 
 Edmund was an infant in his nurse's arms. Presently More 
 put into the hands of Henry a composition of his own, and 
 Erasmus, having nothing of the kind ready, was not a little 
 annoyed that he had not been forewarned of the purpose of 
 their walk, and the more so when the Prince during dinner 
 sent him a slip of paper challenging him to a proof of his 
 literary powers. Three days passed before he was able to 
 respond ; but by that time he had produced an elaborate 
 poem, in alternate hexameter and iambic verse, in praise of 
 England, Henry VII., and the royal children. The verses 
 are what might be expected from a man thoroughly imbued 
 with classic^ literature but without much genius for poetry. 
 England is, of course, described as the finest country in the 
 world, and with the finest climate. Hemy is the best of 
 kings, great in war but inclined to peace ; more patriotic 
 than the Decii, more pious than Numa, more eloquent than 
 Nestor, with abiUty superior to Caesar's, and liberality greater 
 
178 Erasmus in England. 
 
 than that of Maecenas — ^parsimonious in nothing save the 
 blood of his subjects. The praise of the young Prince is 
 less fulsome. A few graceful lines acknowledge his early 
 love of learning and his resemblance to the father whose 
 name he bore. The poem was accompanied by a letter to 
 the Prince, in which he was entreated to accept an offering, 
 which, however unworthy, was in its iiature better and 
 more enduring than any of the gifts of fortune. 
 
 It was apparently about the same time that Erasmus 
 wrote from London to his friend Eobert Pisher, who was 
 then in Italy, a letter in which he expresses his delight 
 with England, and especially with the friends he had made 
 at Oxford. " I should have been long ago where you are," 
 so it runs, "had not Lord Mountjoy, just as I was ready to 
 set out, earned me off to England. Por what place is there 
 to which I would not follow a young man so accomplished, 
 so kind, so amiable ? God love me, I wUl follow him even 
 to hell. You certainly gave me a very full and most 
 graphic description of him, but, trust me, he surpasses every 
 day both your description and my own good opinion. But 
 how do you like our England, you will ask ? If you think 
 my word worth anything, my dear Eobert, believe me when 
 I say that I never liked anything so welL I have found 
 here a climate as delightful as it is perfectly healthy ; more- 
 over so much culture and learning, and that of no common 
 kind, but recondite, exact and ancient, Latin and Greek, 
 that I now hardly require to go to Italy except to see it. 
 When I listen to my friend Colet, I can fancy I am listen- 
 ing to Plato himself. Who would not admire that perfect 
 encyclopaedia of knowledge which is to be found in Grocyn ? 
 Than Linacre's judgment, where wUl you find any more 
 acute, profound or nicely polished ? Has nature ever made 
 anything gentler or sweeter or more happily gifted than the 
 genius of Thomas More 1 Why need I review the rest of 
 the catalogue ? Strange it is what a noble crop of ancient 
 learning is springing up everywhere in this country — an 
 inducement to you to hasten your return. By me you are 
 so loved and remembered, that there is no one of whom I 
 speak oftener or more freely. Farewell. In haste." 
 
 In the beginning of the new year Erasmus returned for 
 a month or two to Oxford to renew the intercourse which 
 he had found so delightful. He left Oxford and England in 
 
Erasmus in England. 179 
 
 Januaty, but not without an earnest effort on (he part of 
 Colet to detain him. Colet was extremely anxious that he 
 should undertake a course of lectures on the Pentateuch, or 
 Isaiah, or some other book of the Old Testament, similar to 
 those which he himself was giving upon the Pauline Epis- 
 tles, and he even reproached Erasmus with a dereliction of 
 duty ia declining the task. It was not, however, to the 
 mind of Erasmus to settle down at Oxford, nor, much as 
 he loved and admired Colet, would he give up for his sake 
 his purpose of visiting Italy and devoting himself to the 
 acquirement of Greek. Fortunate is it for the world that 
 he did not accede to the proposal. He would indeed have 
 made an admirable Professor, but would he have had time 
 to edit the Greek Testament and write the many other works 
 by which he prepared the way for the Eeformation ? He 
 was interested, no doubt, in the cause of Scriptural theology 
 in opposition to the subtleties of scholasticism, but it was 
 more to his taste to encounter the old system openly with 
 all the resources of his wit and learning, on a field where 
 he might win the admiration of the world, than to under- 
 mine it by means of lectures delivered to Oxford students ; 
 and if he had accepted the invitation of Colet, where would 
 have been the Encomium Morise ? In truth, the thing was 
 quite out of the question. The life, the movement of the 
 new age was, one might almost say, impersonated in Eras- 
 mus. His mind was far too restless, his genius too ambi- 
 tious, to permit him to look on a lectureship in a university 
 as in any way fulfilling the purpose of his life. So he ex- 
 cuses himself on the plea of insufficient knowledge.l How, 
 he asks, can he teach others what he does not know him- 
 self? Colet had asked him to give some warmth to the 
 studies of the place during those cold winter months ; but 
 how can he warm others when he is himself shivering all 
 over ? He had never intended to remain at Oxford, so that 
 it is unjust to reproach him for having abandoned what he 
 had never undertaken. Colet, it seems, would have been 
 satisfied had he consented to give lectures on poetry or 
 rhetoric ; but as the other was above his strength, so this 
 fell below his purpose. In short, he must presently return 
 to Paris, and waits only for the winter to relax its severity. 
 Before the end of January this plan was carried out ; from 
 Oxford he returned to the continent, crossing from Dover 
 VOL. r. 
 
180 Erasmus in England. 
 
 to Calais, having paid a visit to More and Mountjoy on the 
 way. 
 
 It is not difficult to understand why Colet and Erasmus 
 were so strongly attached to one another. Eadem diligere 
 et odisse — ^to have the same likings and disHkings — ^is said 
 to be the firmest bond of friendship. But, in truth, friends, 
 like lovers, must be complementary to one another, and they 
 will be most constant when each finds in the other some- 
 thing that is wanting in himself The respects in which 
 Erasmus and Colet resembled one another, and the respects 
 in which they differed, were precisely such as to constitute 
 the firmest bond of friendship. They agreed in their opi- 
 nions, their tastes, their love of learning, their dislike of 
 scholastic subtleties, their inclination to interpret Scripture 
 naturally. But if Colet found in Erasmus far greater intel- 
 lectual vigour, profounder learning, more extensive know- 
 ledge of the world than he could pretend to, and a poignant 
 humour which he did not possess, Erasmus found in him, 
 on the other hand, a deep earnestness, a gravity and holy 
 fervour which were not in his own nature, and of the waht 
 of which he may have been conscious. Colet, moreover, 
 seems to have been a little of the ascetic. When he went 
 to London he gave up suppers, and he seldom drank any- 
 thing but beer or partook of more than one dish. His friend, 
 on the contrary, being of a sickly frame, required pampering, 
 and the self-denial of others is not always the less admirable 
 if we are unable to share in it. There is no reason to sup- 
 pose that Erasmus first learned from Colet that dislike of 
 scholasticism which ever lent vigour to his pen. Through 
 his influence, we have seen, his judgment underwent some 
 modification in regard to one of the great leaders of that 
 philosophy, with whose works he had previously had little 
 acquaintance. But as for the theologians of his own day, 
 the bitter experiences of his early life, the strict discipline 
 and loose morality of Stein, the damp bedrooms and rotten 
 eggs of Montaigu (a Scotist college near Paris where he had 
 spent some time), had taught him to hate both their life 
 and their doctrine. There was, however, one respect in 
 which his English friend would seem to have exercised a 
 distinct influence over his mind. Erasmus had not indeed 
 so far escaped the influences of his age and of his monastic 
 training as to suppose that any study could compete in 
 
Erasmus in England. 181 
 
 importance with theology, yet his natural tastes -vrotild pro- 
 bably have led him to give secular learning at least an 
 equal place in his regard. The spirit of Colet may be traced 
 in the absolute devotion to divinity which he sometimes 
 expresses. When he writes to this friend he puts himself 
 on the defensive, endeavouring to shew that he looks upon 
 his excursions in profane literature as little better than 
 trifles of which he would gladly free himself, or at the best 
 as preparatory to his graver studies, and that his whole 
 heart is in theology. 
 
 Erasmus was in this country again in the year 1506, 
 when he visited Cambridge, and was made Doctor of Divi- 
 nity of that University ; and while in London he was fortu- 
 nate enough to become acquainted with Warham, Archbishop 
 of Canterbury and Lord Chancellor, to whom he dedicated 
 a Latin translation of the Hecuba of Euripides, and who 
 afterwards proved one of his kindest and most liberal patrons. 
 His first impression, indeed, of this Prelate was not altoge- 
 ther favourable ; for on the presentation of the Hecuba, the 
 Archbishop repaid the compliment with what seemed to 
 Erasmus a very insignificant present, and he and his friend 
 Grocyn, who had accompanied him, had a good laugh toge- 
 ther in the boat, as they were rowed away from the palace 
 at Lambeth, in trying to account for this niggardliness on 
 the part of a man of such reputed generosity and wealth. 
 Grocyn, who would seem to have known the ways of the 
 World better than his friend, suggested, what was no doubt 
 the true explanation, that the Archbishop must have sus- 
 pected that he was not the first to whom the Hecuba had 
 been dedicated. " And how/' asked the aggrieved scholar, 
 " can such a suspicion have entered his head T Quia sic 
 soletis vos, was the reply — " Because such is the practice of 
 you literary men." Determined to shew that in his case at 
 least the suspicion was groundless, Erasmus had his Hecuba 
 printed as soon as he got back to Paris, and having added 
 to it a translation of the Iphigenia in AuUs, on which he 
 had employed himself at Cambridge, he dedicated both to 
 AVarham, and thus secured his friendship and patronage. 
 
 On this occasion the stay of Erasmus in England was 
 brief He had at length found the means of fulfilling his 
 long-cherished intention of visiting Italy, and the same year 
 or the next saw him on his way across the Alps. He was 
 
 o2 
 
182 Erasmim in England. 
 
 at Eome when a letter reached him from Lord Mountjoy, 
 announcing the accession of Henry VIII. to the throne, and 
 pressing him to return ; and not long before he had been 
 honoured by a letter from the Prince himself, expressing 
 the warmest interest in his fortunes. Mountjoy tells him 
 the King is ready to welcome him, and the Archbishop of 
 Canterbury to give him a rich benefice ; and to enforce his 
 invitation, he sends him a sum of money to pay the expenses 
 of his journey. Erasmus appears to have had no thought 
 of settling permanently at Eome, nor indeed anywhere else ; 
 had he chosen to engage in the war of intrigue that went 
 on at the Pontifical court, his abilities would easily have 
 gained him a Cardinal's hat ; but he loved freedom, and he 
 liked England ; and accordingly the year after Henry's 
 accession, 1510, we find him once more in London, and this 
 time with that dear friend of his, the simplest, truest- 
 hearted and most loveable of Englishmen, Thomas More. 
 As he rode across the Alpine snows, this friend had been 
 much in his thoughts ; and how strange it was, it occurred 
 to him, that the wittiest and wisest man he knew should 
 bear a name which in Greek signified the Eool. And then, 
 no doubt, he began to think how many real fools there were 
 in the world, and what various forms folly assumed. His 
 own experience and reading furnished him with abundant 
 examples ; and before his journey was at an end, a kind of 
 declamation, in which, under pretence of eulogizing folly, 
 he might turn all classes of men into ridicule, Jiad worked 
 itself into some sort of shape in his thoughts. Arrived in 
 London, he took his pen, and within a week had completed 
 one of the famous satires of the world. 
 
 The Encomium Morise, or Praise of EoUy, is eertainly a 
 most amusing piece of satire, abounding as it does in wit 
 and eloquence, and displaying great knowledge of the world 
 and keen observation of men and things.' It reminds us of 
 Lu6ian perhaps more than any other writer, in the contempt, 
 generally good-humoured, which it pours out upon all 
 human c'ccupations. But the idea is probably quite ori- 
 ginal EoUy, who speaks throughout, introduces herself as 
 the sole cause of mirth in heaven and among men, who 
 spreads joy over every countenance however sad before,! just 
 as the sun, when he " shews his golden face to the earth," 
 sheds new bloom and the freshness of youth over nature. 
 
Erasmus in England. 183 
 
 She then claims the right of trumpeting her own praises, 
 and calls upon all to prick up their asses' ears to hear 
 her. Having announced her name and parentage, she de- 
 clares herself to be a goddess, and indeed the very chief of 
 divinities, inasmuch as she is the authoress of the greatest 
 blessings to humanity. For she not only gives Hfe itself, 
 but also all the pleasures of life. Who knows not that 
 man's childhood is by far the most delightful period of his 
 existence? And why? Because he is then most a fool. 
 And next to that his youth, in which folly still prevails ; 
 while in proportion as he retires from her dominion, and 
 becomes possessed, through discipline and experience, of 
 mature wisdom, his beauty loses its bloom, his strength 
 declines, his wit becomes less pungent, until at last weary 
 old age succeeds, which would be absolutely unbearable, 
 unless Folly, in pity of such grievous miseries, gave relief 
 by bringing on a second childhood. Nature herself has 
 kindly provided for an abundant supply of folly in the 
 human race ; for since, according to the Stoic definitions, 
 wisdom means only being guided by reason, whereas folly, 
 on the other hand, consists in submitting to the. govern- 
 ment of the passions, Jupiter, wishing to make life merry, 
 gave man far more passion than reason, banishing the latter 
 into one little corner of his person, and leaving all the rest 
 of the body to the sway of the former. Man, however, 
 being designed for the management of affairs, could not do 
 without a small quantity of reason ; but in order to temper 
 the evil thus occasioned, at the suggestion of Folly woman 
 was introduced into the world — " a foolish, silly creature, 
 no doubt, but amusing and agreeable, and well adapted to 
 mitigate the gloom of man's temper by familiar intercourse." 
 Woman owes all her advantages to FoUy. The great end 
 of her existence is to please man, and this she could not do 
 without folly. If any one doubts it, he has only to con- 
 sider how much nonsense a man talks to a woman when- 
 ever he wishes to enjoy the pleasures of female society. 
 
 It is newshewn that friendship, love, marriage, success 
 in life, are all dependent on the aid of Folly, which blinds 
 us to the faults of others as well as to our own. Then 
 comes 'a fine piece of satire on war, which Erasmus always 
 detested. Hunting, gambling, and other frivolous tastes, 
 are similarly ridiculed, and then at length he delivers his 
 
184 Erasmus in England. 
 
 first blow at the monks. " But that class of men is alto- 
 gether of our kidney, whose sole delight is to hear and teU 
 lying stories of miracles and prodigies, and who can never 
 have enough of fables about spectres, spirits, ghosts, the place 
 of future punishment, and a thousand such wonders ; which 
 are all believed the more willingly as they are remote from 
 truth, and in the like proportion tickle the ear with a more 
 agreeable itching. Such fables are not only wonderfully 
 useful for relieving the tedium of the hours, but they are also 
 very profitable, especially for priests and preachers. Akin 
 to these, again, are they who have permitted the no doubt 
 foolish, but still agreeable, persuasion to possess them, that 
 should they see a wooden image or painting of St. Christo- 
 pher Polyphemus,* they will not die that day, or that who- 
 ever shall salute a carving of St. Barbara will return safely 
 from battle, or whoever meet Erasmus on certain days, with 
 certain tapers and certain prayers, become suddenly rich. 
 Now, forsooth, they have invented, a George Hercules too, 
 like another Hippolytus. His horse, most religiously adorned 
 with trappings and studs, they all but worship, and to swear 
 by his brazen, helmet is an oath for a king. But what shall 
 I say of those who flatter themselves with the pleasant 
 delusion that they can grant pardon, for, sins, and who mea- 
 sure th^ periods of purgatory as it were with time-pieces, 
 meting out centuries, years, months, days, hours, as if by a 
 mathematical table where there could be no possibility of 
 error ? or of those who, trusting to certain little magic 
 marks and prayers which some pious impostor invented 
 either to save his soul or with a view to gain, promise 
 themselves wealth, honours, pleasures, abundance, unfailing 
 health, and a green old age, and in the other world a seat 
 next Christ himself, — which, by the way, they would not 
 wish to reach for a long time yet ; that is, not tiU the plea- 
 sures of this life, however much against their will and 
 however closely they may have clung to them, shall never- 
 theless have flown — then they would wish those heavenly 
 joys to follow. Here is a man — say a merchant, or a soldier, 
 or a judge — who thinks that by payment of a siagle coin 
 
 * The pictures of St. Chriatopher often more nearly reaembled Virgil's 
 "Monstrum hoTrendum, informe, ingens, cui lumen ademptum," 
 than the gentle saint who carried the infant Christ. 
 
Erasmus in Etigland. 185 
 
 out of his robberies, the whole Lerna of his life may be once 
 for all cleared out, and imagines that so many perjuries, 
 lusts, fits of drunkenness, so many quarrels, impostures, per- 
 fidies, acts of treachery, can be redeemed as by contract — 
 aye, and so redeemed that he may now return to a new 
 round of crime. But could any frame of mind be more 
 foolish — I mean happier, than theirs who by the daily reci- 
 tation of those seven verses from the Psalms promise them- 
 selves more than supreme happiness? And these magic 
 verses some jesting demon, who was not however so cunning 
 but he could be taken in, is believed to have pointed out to 
 St. Bernard, the poor devil having been entrapped by the 
 saint's art.* And these things, which are so foolish that I 
 am almost ashamed of them myself, are nevertheless re- 
 garded with approbation, and that not merely by the vul- 
 gar, but even by the professors of religion. * * * Now if 
 in this state of things any odious wise man were to rise up 
 and proclaim what is doubtless true, — Thou shalt not perish 
 miserably if thou livest well ; thy sins wiU be forgiven, if 
 to thy money thou addest hatred of thy misdeeds, and 
 after that tears, watching, prayers and fasts, and changest 
 thy whole paanner of life : such and such a saint will bless 
 thee if thou wilt endeavour to follow his example ; — I say, 
 ■if the wise man should bray out such truths as these, behold 
 of how great happiness he would rob mankind, and into 
 what confusion he would plunge them !" 
 
 Erasmus now proceeds to attack in succession various 
 classes of men, including merchants, grammarians and school- 
 masters, poets and scholars, lawyers, philosophers, monks 
 and theologians. On the two last, of whom he knew most 
 and who presented the greatest number of points for attack, 
 he is particularly severe. Even the highest dignitaries of 
 the Cliurch do not escape the lash. He lectures the cardi- 
 nals on their duties, and finally lays hands on the supreme 
 pontiffs themselves. No situation, argues Folly, could be 
 more wretched than that of the vicegerents of Christ, if 
 they endeavoured to imitate Christ's life — namely, his 
 poverty, toil, doctrine, his cross, his contempt for life ; which 
 they would do if they had the smallest particle of wisdom. 
 As it is, however, they leave all the labour to Peter and 
 
 * The saint threatened that if he did not shew him the verses in question, 
 he would read the whole book of Psalms every day. 
 
186 Erasmus in England. 
 
 Paul, who have plenty of leisure for it, while they reserve 
 for themselves the pleasures and the splendours of their 
 office. It would be interesting to find that Erasmus main- 
 tained here the same generous doctrine of religious tolera- 
 tion which was shortly afterwards propounded by his friend 
 More in the Utopia. This, perhaps, could hardly be ex- 
 pected in a work so purely satirical. There is, however, a 
 passage which ridicules the scriptural arguments used by 
 the ignorant monks in proof of the Church's right to burn 
 heretics : — one of these was derived from St. Paul's com- 
 mand to Titus, " A man that is an heretic, after the first 
 and second admonition reject," the argument being obtained 
 by dividing the Latin word de-vita and translating " out of 
 life :" from which it is clear that he did not think the stake 
 the most satisfactory refutation of false doctrine. The piece 
 concludes in truly orthodox style with shewing from Scrip- 
 ture the advantages of Folly ; and certainly much of that 
 ingenuity which the proverb ascribes to Satan is displayed 
 in the adaptation of texts from the Bible to such a purpose. 
 Such is a brief and imperfect analysis of this remarkable 
 work-f-remarkable not merely for its inherent excellences, 
 which, however, perhaps scarcely entitle it to a first place 
 among compositions of the kind, but still more as beinglthe 
 earliest, iu that century at least, and the most decisive Sig- 
 nal of the advance of that reforming spirit with which the 
 Papal power was ere long to engage in deadly and terrible 
 encounter. ' As the work proceeded, it was read to More and 
 other congenial friends, by whom it was received with ap- 
 plause. Erasmus, if we may trust his own statement, made 
 many years afterwards, valued it too slightly to think of 
 publishing it ; possibly he may have shrunk from the hos- 
 tility which it was sure to arouse. Any objections he may 
 have had, were, however, overcome by the friends who had 
 encouraged his undertaking. Through their agency a copy 
 of the work — an imperfect one — eventually found its way 
 to Paris, and was there printed. The work was received with 
 immense favour, especially among people of influence, and 
 within a very few months went through no less than seven 
 editions.* The monks of course were enraged, but did not 
 
 * There is some difficulty in fixing the date of the publication of the Enco- 
 mium Moriae. Hallam says 1511, but gives no authority. I can find no trace 
 of it before 1514, Erasmus himself says (but his memory may have deceived 
 
Urasmus in England. 187 
 
 very well know what to do with a man who had corre- 
 sponded with the King of England and stood high in favour 
 with the Pope. They, however, prevailed on one Martin 
 Dorpius, a theologian of Louvain, to write to Erasmus to 
 remonstrate with him on the publication of the " unlucky 
 Moria." This he did in a highly respectful and compli- 
 mentary style, telling him how unfortunate it was for his 
 own fame that such a book should have appeared at the 
 very time when he was beginning to be -held in admiration 
 by all the most eminent lawyers and theologians. The 
 reply of Erasmus was equally conciliatory : he made a long 
 and elaborate apology, and even condescended to say that 
 he regretted the publication of the " Moria." It need scarcely 
 be added, however, that his subsequent tone towards the 
 monks, so far from being modified, was more bitter than 
 ever: 
 
 The correspondence with Dorpius took place after Eras- 
 mus had left England, and that was not tiU towards the 
 close of 1513, or in the beginning of the following year. 
 A very few words must suffice to give an account of his 
 occupations during the intervening period. The Archbishop 
 of Canterbury had promised him a living, and this promise 
 he now fulfilled by giving him the rectory of Aldington, in 
 Kent. It is to the credit of Erasmus that he felt conscien- 
 tious scruples about accepting a charge the duties of which 
 it was impossible for him, owing to his ignorance of the 
 English language, to fulfil The Archbishop met his scru- 
 ples by assuring him that he did far more good to the 
 Church by his books than he could by preaching to a little 
 countiy congregation, and that he well deserved any reward 
 the Church had it in her power to bestow. His objections, 
 however, were not overcome without a promise that the in- 
 terests of the parish would be provided for at the Arch- 
 bishop's expense. On this understanding he consented to 
 draw a small yearly pension from the living. The remain- 
 ing years of his residence in England were spent between 
 
 him) that he was in Paris when it was printed, and there is no evidence nor like- 
 lihood of his having been in Paris from 1610 to 1513. If the Encomium was 
 published in 1511, it is strange that there should be no reference to It in the 
 correspondence between Erasmus and Andrew Ammonius during the stay of the 
 former at Cambridge. More probably the MS. was for that period in the 
 hands of Sir Thomas More. 
 
188 Erasmus in England. 
 
 London and Cambridge, and were devoted chiefly to his 
 projected edition of St. Jerome, and the collation of the 
 New Testament. At Cambridge, it is said, he was made 
 the Lady Margaret's Professor of Divinity, and he afterwards 
 gave lectures on Greek. Whether he was appointed to the 
 Greek chair of the University seems to be a little uncertain. 
 There is a statement of his own to the effect that he taught 
 Greek gratis for a few months ; but that may mean either 
 that he delivered voluntary lectures previous to his obtain- 
 ing the professorial chair, or that the salary attached to 
 the chair was little more than nominal. From a letter to 
 his friend Andrew Ammonius, a literary man from Lucca, 
 of the most genial temper, whose acquaintance he had made 
 in London, we learn that he gave lectures on the Greek 
 grammar of Chrysoloras, and that the attendance at his 
 class was small, though he was hoping it might increase. 
 Here also he speaks of undertaking lectures in theology, 
 adding that the remuneration is too small to be an- induce- 
 ment, but that in the mean time he is working hard at his 
 studies. Erasmus would now have been perfectly happy 
 had it not been for the plague, English beer and poverty. 
 The first turned the University into a solitude by driving 
 its inmates away, and made him vow that he would fly thence 
 if it were only to die somewhere else. His friend Ammo- 
 nius, it must be owned, did his best to preserve him from 
 beer, and to satisfy the yearnings of his soul for the light 
 vintage to which he was accustomed, by sending him now 
 and then a flagon of Greek wine. And as to poverty, he 
 ought to have beeii a rich man by this time. He must have 
 made something by his writings, and much more by his 
 persevering and ingenious begging, in which art he was an 
 adept. But his habits of life were expensive ; Cambridge 
 was an expensive place to reside in ; and his frequent jour- 
 neys to escape the plague or visit his friends must have 
 drawn heavily upon his purse. Accordingly we find him 
 still complaining of poverty. Nevertheless, he seems to 
 have lost none of his afiection for England. If the mate- 
 rial advantages proved less substantial than he thought he 
 had been led to expect they would be, he had at least won 
 for himself universal consideration. There was not a Bishop 
 but was proud to be saluted by him. The King himsejf 
 had noticed Mm in the most gracious manner. The Queen 
 
On the Authorship of the Fourth Gospel 189 
 
 had endeavoured to secure his services as a preceptor. 
 AVolsey, then Bishop of Lincoln, was most friendly, though 
 he confined himself to making magnificent promises. Fi- 
 nally, the two Universities vied with one another for the 
 honour of his presence. These, it is true, are the boasts of 
 Erasmus himself when he wishes to represent his fortunes 
 in the most favourable light; but there is no reason to 
 doubt that here, as well as in Eome, the way was open for 
 him to the highest honours, if he chose to seek them. If 
 he was poor, it was because he preferred learning to ambi- 
 tion, because learning was the thing which he loved best in 
 this world. The cause of letters was the cause for which 
 he lived and for which he would have died. The enthu- 
 siasm of study never rose so high before or since. The 
 smiles of Kings and the favours of Archbishops were to this 
 man as nothing compared with his beloved books. 
 
 EOBBBT B. DeUMMOND. 
 
 II.— ON THE AUTHOESHIP OF THE FOURTH 
 GOSPEL. 
 
 SlE, 
 
 I AVAIL myself of your expressed readiness to see both 
 sides of an important critical question presented in your 
 pages. 
 
 Mr. Tayler's recent learned book on " The Character of 
 the Fourth Gospel, especially in its relation to the Three 
 first," has been noticed in your pages respectfully as it 
 deserved, and with apparently a general assent to its con- 
 clusions on the part of your reviewer. 
 
 To many of your readers, perhaps to most of them, these 
 conclusions would, if inevitable, be most unwelcome, and 
 they must at least be permitted to question its reasonings. 
 "Without presuming to rival Mr. Tayler's ecclesiastical learn- 
 ing, it is no presumption in me to dispute his conclusions 
 on grounds strictly critical, yet simple and intelligible to 
 all readers of Scripture. 
 
 I believe this book presents the first occasion, in the 
 annals of EngUsh theology, of doubts being thrown upon 
 
190 On the Authorship of the Fourth Gospel. 
 
 the apostolic authorship of the Fourth Gospel, except by 
 writers who have equally impugued the authenticity of all 
 the four Gospels. But the question itself is not new. It 
 was debated in Germany at the very beginning of the pre- 
 sent century ; and, since the time of Bretschneider, whose 
 Probabilia appeared in 1820, no new argument, I believe, 
 certainly no new critical fact, has been discovered bearing 
 upon the question. More than forty years ago, the whole 
 argument on both sides was brought into focus by Kuinoel, 
 in the Prolegomena to his able notes on John's Gospel ; all 
 the objections (especially those of Bretschneider) to its au- 
 thenticity were thoroughly examined, and this most learned, 
 candid and able critic pronounced his distinct opinion in 
 its favour. He decided that the writer must have been a 
 Palestinian, and must have lived in the first century ; that 
 he was an eye-witness of the things he relates and an inti- 
 mate companion of Jesus ; and that a writer of a later age 
 would have written very differently on the union of Christ 
 with God, which this Gospel makes prominent. He points 
 to the apocryphal New Testament writings as proof of the 
 difference in thought and style which the second century 
 introduced. Thus the question is not new to English theo- 
 logical students, but only to the general English public. 
 Few of the latter are much acquainted with those feats of 
 German criticism which consist in exhausting all arguments 
 on both sides of a question, as a mental exercise ; though 
 not a few are disposed to accept the negative results of the 
 process on trust. 
 
 But even English books of theology have long since 
 pointed out to the notice of popular readers, the distinctive 
 peculiarities of the Fourth Gospel as compared with the 
 other three. It has always been plain to every intelligent 
 reader, that the first three differ far less from each other, in 
 contents and in tone, than John's from them all. The first 
 three detail chiefly the ministry of our Lord in Galilee, 
 Peraea and the neighbouring parts, until the time of the 
 fatal passover, when he plainly avowed his Messianic claims 
 at Jerusalem ; so that we might hardly have known from 
 their narratives that he had ever taught there except at that 
 last festival. John, on the other hand, gives very few details 
 of the life in Galilee, and almost confines himself to the 
 visits of Christ to Jerusalem at the various festivals. And 
 
On tJie Authorship of the Fourth Gospel. 191 
 
 this distinction involves another. John omits the chief 
 part of the discourses of our Lord which are preserved by 
 the rest, and gives us in full detail a large number (espe- 
 cially those held at Jerusalem) which are not to be found 
 in any others. So different are the contents of his Gospel 
 from those of all the rest, that, on looking through the 
 columns of a Harmony, we usually find the fourth blank 
 when one, two or three of the others are full, and when the 
 fourth is occupied there is seldom anything in any of the 
 rest Hence it is generally and naturally believed that 
 John's Gospel was written after the other three, and that 
 its author had seen one or more of them. Hence, too, it has 
 been generally inferred that John's particular design in 
 writing was, not to produce a new or complete Life of Jesus, 
 but to supplement the others with additional facts and 
 discourses. And the explanation of his personal ability to 
 do this seemed obvious. Our Lord, according to all the 
 four writers, spoke with studied reserve of his Messianic 
 claims (under that misapprehended name) till the very end 
 of his ministry, and (even according to John) went up " not 
 openly, but as it were in secret," to the earlier Jewish 
 feasts. The apostles do not seem to have attended him in 
 a body on those occasions ; but who so likely to have been 
 uniformly with him as the "loved disciple"? If Matthew, 
 the only other apostle evangelist, was not with our Lord on 
 those occasions, and if John uniformly or generally was, 
 this would at once explaiu the leading specialty of his 
 GospeL And this quite agrees with his own deslaration of 
 the purpose with which he wrote it, namely, " that ye might 
 believe that Jesus is the Christ, the Son of God, and that 
 believing ye might have life through his name." This pur- 
 pose, no doubt, is essentially common to all the four ; but 
 John points out more studiously than the rest the progres- 
 sive indications of his Master's divine mission.* Further : 
 it is no new remark, that John's narrative and his reports 
 of his Master's conversations are tinged with the colours of 
 
 * I must take exception to Mr. Tayler'a statement (p. 4), that "instead of 
 cautiously advancing his claims, and only towards the close of his ministry 
 announcing himself as the Christ — Jesus, in the Fourth Gtospel, from the very 
 fii-st reveals his high character and office by an unreserved disclosure of the 
 Divine Word that was incarnate in him." It is John, I think, -who points out 
 these signs of Messiahship, rather than Jesus, who asserts them more distinctly 
 or earlier than in the Synoptics. 
 
192 On the Authorship of the Fourth Gospel 
 
 the narrator's own mind to a degree not seen in the others ; 
 and the longer of those conversations cannot, of course, be 
 taken as verbally reported by him. His Gospel is decidedly 
 what modern criticism calls subjective. We see the hero 
 through the mind of the biographer. In a minor degree, 
 John is to Jesus what Plato is to Socrates. Modern ortho- 
 dox critics have commonly asserted this special tinge to 
 consist in the clearer avowal of Christ's Deity, in which the 
 other three evangelists are thought by them to be very 
 deficient. Mr. Tayler thinks it consists in a philosophy of 
 the Logos, or Word, which did not blend itself with the 
 idea of Christ so early as the life of his apostle John. But 
 the author himself is unconscious of any other purpose 
 than simply to shew that Jesus was the Christ, the Son of 
 God. Are not Biblical critics too fond of detecting the 
 special purpose of the writer, his " stand-point," his " point 
 of view," his "philosophy," when his only purpose may 
 have been to tell what he knows ? 
 
 The difference between the contents of the Fourth GoS'^ 
 pel and the other three was early noticed by the more criti- 
 cal of the Fathers. Eusebius says that John, the other 
 narratives being known to him and approved by him, re- 
 marked their want of an account of the earlier part of our 
 Lord's ministry, their authors having chiefly confined them- 
 selves to his actions during one year, beginning with the 
 imprisonment of John the Baptist. This is not indeed an 
 exact or complete description of the phenomena ; but the 
 first ten chapters of John do seem to belong mainly to the 
 early period so passed by in the other three ; the larger part 
 ..of the Galilean life more fully recorded by them seems 
 properly to follow ; and then the rest of John's Gospel, from 
 the approach of the last passover, runs parallel of course 
 to the other three accounts, but with a large amount of 
 additional materials, and little repetition of their details. 
 
 These, then, are the chief specific differences observable, 
 and almost universally observed, between the Fourth Gospel 
 and the other three. Do they bring its genuineness into 
 suspicion ? Or are they not explained in a perfectly natural 
 manner on the behef that it was written by the apostle 
 John? 
 
 There are internal marks of genuineness, innumerable, 
 which it requires no great learning, but simply human feel- 
 
ERASME 
 
 DANS SES RAPPORTS AVEC ITON. 
 
lEWiillto M(k ^^ 
 
 DANS SES RAPPORTS AVEC LYON 
 
 JPrti* ^ntam |3kuau&. 
 
 IMPRIMERIE DE MOUGIN-RUSAND, 
 
 Ilallt'S cle la Gronetlf. 
 
 1843. 
 
ERASME 
 
 M^m &M Mnibi&n t^M um. 
 
 II s'eu faut de beaucoup que VHisloive lilleraire de la ville de Lyon , 
 par le P. de Colonia soil aussi complete qu'elle aurait du I'filre. Si le sa- 
 vaut j^suite en eut donn^ une seconde Edition , il lui aurait el6 facile de 
 reorichir d'un assez grand nombre de chapitres plus ou moins imporlants. 
 Un des plus interessants eiit ete sans doute celui qui aurait eu pour sujet 
 Erasme dans ses rapports avec quelques personnages de notre ville. J'ai 
 chercM, autantqu'il a ^te en moi, k reparer cetle omission dans I'essai que 
 je soumels k mes lecteurs, et pour lequel je reclame toute leur indulgence. 
 Boni consulile. 
 
 £r.4.smi; avail environ 38 ans lorsqu'il lui prit envie d'aller visiter I'l- 
 talie. C'etait en I'an de gr4ee 1506 (1). II passa par Lyon, s'y arr6ta quel- 
 ques jours, et remporta de celte vlUe des souvenirs si agreables qu'il les 
 consigna dans celui de ses Colloques (2) , qui a pour litre Diversoria , 
 
 ( 1 ) Olim i Lulelia per Liigiltinum peleiis Ilaliam , elc. Lellie du 2 avril 1531. 
 
 (2) Les Colloques paruieut pour la pieniiere fois en 1S21 j ils eurenl un tel succcs 
 que I'auteur y ajoulail de nouveaux dialogues a cliaque reimpression. L'ediliou la 
 plus complete est celle deJBille, 1S24. Sebnslien Gryplie en donna une fort jolie 
 en 1331, petit in-8, qui n'a pas cte conuue de Panzer. — On allribue a Bailhelemy 
 Aueau la traduction du Colioque qui a pour title Uxor mcmpsigamos (voyez Biunet , 
 Man. II, l97j. Du Vei-dier cite daus sa Bibliollieqiie phisieurs versions de differenls 
 ouvrages d'Erasme CeWe Aes Hi.it colloques , parA. D. V., dont il ne doune ni 
 la dale ni le format , pourrail bien eire de lui , quoiqu'elle nc figure pas dans la liste 
 qu'il nous ji l^issee de^ses productions. 
 
c'es(-ii-dire les Holelteries. Je n'eii (raduirai quo la parCie qui se rapporCc 
 a no(rc ville : 
 
 Bertiiclpiie. Comment se fail-il que la plupart des voyageurs qui pas- 
 seul par Lyon s'y arretent deux ou (rois jours? Pour moi , des que je 
 mesuis mis eu route, je ne m'arrete que lorsque je suis arrive A ma des- 
 tination. 
 
 GuiLLAUME. Moi, je ne puis concevoir comment on pent s'ariraqher dc 
 ce lieu. 
 
 Berthplphe. Pourquoi cela ? 
 
 GuiLLAUME. P^irce que c'est un lieu d'ou Ton n'aurait pu arraclier les 
 compagnons d'Ulysse ; il y a des Sirenes. Personne n'est mieux traits dans 
 sa propre maison qu'on ne Test Ik dans une liotellerie. 
 
 Berthulphe. Comment cela se fait-il? 
 
 GuiLLAUME II y avait toujours aupres de la (able une femmequi egayail 
 
 repas par ses saillies et ses airs engageanls (1). Lft , le beau sexe est re- 
 marquable par les formes les plus heureuses (2). D'abord I'hdtesse parait, 
 vous fail la reverence, prie le ciel de vous teair en joie (3) et de recevoir 
 avec indulgence les metsqu'on vous apportera. A la mere succede la fille , 
 gracieuse et gentille petile ferame, qui, par son babil et ses allures en- 
 jouees, eut deride Caton lui-meme. Elles ne vous parlenfcpas comme a 
 des voyageurs , mais comme 4 de vieilles connaissances , k des amis. 
 
 Berthulphe. Je reconnais le caractere affable de la nation frangaise. 
 
 GuiLLAUME. Comme elles ne pouvaienl pas se Irouver toujours 14, 4 
 cause de leurs differenfes occupations et des aulres convives qu'elles de- 
 vaient recevoir, une jeune servante d'humeur joviale, entendant Ires-hien 
 la plaisanterie, etait 14 constamment , ripostant aux traits qu'on lui lan- 
 ^ait, et soutenant, 4 elle seule, la conversation jusqu'au retour de la fiUc 
 de I'hotesse , car la mere etait fort agee. 
 
 Berthulphe. Mais enfm dites-nous comment la table etait servie, car 
 le venire ne se remplit pas avec des paroles (4). 
 
 (i) Leporibus. C'est de Beranger cjiie j'ai em pr utile la Iraduclioii de ce moi si diffi- 
 cile a lendiedans notie langue : 
 
 Elle aUii'alt les gens 
 Par ses alvs engageants. 
 (a) Esl Htic mira formarum felicltas. (C.-B. Melanges, p. 205.) 
 
 (3) fiilares esse. Nos aieiix Jisaient : n Dieii vous doiiit joie. » Palhelin, p. 8, 
 
 cdil. de Cousteliei'; « Le Ciel vous doiiiie joie. » Biueys, V^vocal Patlielin, sc.VlII. 
 
 (4) Nam fabulis non cxplelur venter. Ce inot nous rapnelle uii vers proverbial de 
 I'anteur des Femmes savantes , act. II , sc, 7 : 
 
 Je \isde bonne soupe el iicu de beau laugage. 
 
7 
 
 GuiLLAUME. On est cerles si bien servi que je suis vraiment etonne qu'oii 
 puisse trailer, comme on fait , les voyageurs k uu prix si modique. Le 
 repasest-il flni? de rechef elles vous content des histoires qui ne vous 
 permetlent pasde vous ennuyer un seul iustanl. II me serablait etre plutot 
 cliez moi qu'en voyage. 
 
 Berthulphe. Que nous direz-vous des chambres? 
 
 GuiLLAUME. On y trouvait surtout des jeunes fiUes rianles , p^tiilanles, 
 aga^antes. Elles vous demandant volonliers si vous avez du linge sale : 
 elles s'empressent de le laver, et vous le rendent tres-propre. Que vous 
 dire de plus? Nous n'avons vu Ik que des femmes etdes fiUes, exceple 
 dans I'ecurie, oil raeme il arrivait assez frequemment que des jeunes fiUes 
 venaient faire des irruptiong, Elles embrassent leurs botes au depart, et 
 leurdisent adieu avec la meme affection que si c'dtaient leurs freres ou leurs 
 proches parents (1). 
 
 firasme dut passer une seconde fois a Lyon , vers 1521, lorsqu'il alia so 
 fixer ^ BMe , et je presume que c'est alors qu'il fit la connaissance de 
 plusieurs Lyonnais , grands admirateurs de son genie. De ce uombre 6tait 
 Antoine d'Albon , abbe de I'lle-Barbe ( qui fut ensuite archeveque de 
 Lyon) ; un hellenisle appele Nicolas-Jerome Mallarius, iutime ami de ce 
 prelat ; Jean Cleberger surnomm^ k si juste litre le bon Allemand , enfin 
 le plus c^lebre de nos bibliophiles , Jean Grolier , vicomte d'Aguisi. 
 Erasme dut avoir bien d'autres amis letlres dans notre ville qui etait alors 
 si litteraire; mais, comme ii en est partout et loujoursainsi, ily txouvades 
 
 (i) L'iulention speciale d'Erasme dans ce Colloque a c'te de s'cgayer siii- les aii- 
 Ijerges d'Allemagne. L'eloge des liotelleries de Lyon n'a cte mis la que par inanieie 
 d'antithese. Jiisle Lipse s'avisa plus laid , daus line relation de voyage, de dire ce 
 qii'il avail Irouvede lepiochable aiix auberges de la Weslphalie. On lui fit la-dessiis 
 inie sorle de querelle. Voici quelques mols de sa reponse : Jocus el sales aliquos in 
 Jf^estplialica noil gentem sed liospilia effiidimiis , leves , sceiialiles el iil grariss'ime 
 dicas J improvidos. Quid Erasmo igttitr fiat (jiii lam iibei'Utit el I'lberc iilusil in liospi- 
 tia omiiis Germanice ? Quid Cleiiardo qui in Uispanica ? II existe en effet une lellie 
 de Nic. Clenard a D. Lalomus, dalee de Biacrara {Braga ou Urague , ville de Poi- 
 lugal), le 21 aout 1S3I, ou il conle plaisaniiuenl la facon dont il a cle hebeige sue 
 la route de Saint Jacques-de-Composlelle. Selon Meuot, les h(itelleries de France 
 sent le symbole de I'eufer, et celles d'Espagne le sont du paradis. Dans les premie- 
 res, on fait grande cliere et puis on paie ; dans les secondes , on paie, a\anldese 
 metlre a talde, ce que I'on veul manger. Ainsi , dil il , I.azare a premieremenl payc 
 en ce monde , en endurant beaucoup de raaux , et puis il est alle banqueter en Pa- 
 radis , tandis que le mauvais riclie , qui a fait grande chere en ce monde , est mainlc- 
 nant en Enfer oil il coniptc a son bote. Henri Estiehhe , Jpol. II, 176. 
 
delracleurs. Un des plus vit)lenls lut Etienne Dolet que son amitie pour 
 Christophe Longueil , qu'il avail connu k Lyon , porta ft embrasser le 
 parti de ces fanatiques de I'antiquitelatine qui auraient cru faire un 
 barbarisme , s'ils eussent employe un mot dont Ciceron ue se flit pas 
 servi (1). La guerre que leur fit Erasme fut aussi longue que le siege de 
 Troie ; elle commeuQa en 1528 par la publication du Ciceronianus, et ne 
 tinit qu'a la mort de I'auteur de ce piquant dialogue , en 1536. Dans cetle 
 jutte acharnee, le seul, le veritable Ciceronien 6tait Erasme, qui , par son 
 esprit , son savoir et son eloquence, 6tail digne de ce nom. La plupart de 
 sesantagonistes n'etaient que des fabricants de pastiches , des singes de 
 I'orateur remain. Mais Erasme eut dans les moines (2) qu'il avail ridi- 
 culises dans ses Colloques , des ennemis plus redoulables encore que ces 
 pretendus Ciceroniens. Un dominicain , Saxon de naissance , Lambert 
 J Campestre, qui sejourna environ cinq ans 4 Lyon oil il enrichil de ses 
 annotations plusieurs ouvrages de Iheologie , publia k Paris en 1524 (3) 
 sous le nom d'Erasme une edition des Colloques dans laquelle il avail 
 retranche tout ce qui avail trail k la vie monacale , aux voeux, aiix indul- 
 / gences el aux pelerinages (4). A celle edition ^lait joinle une preface 
 dialoguee oi Campestre faisait parler Erasme en fori raauvais latin. Jus- 
 lemenl indigne , I'auteur des Colloques lanca une virulente diatribe cen- 
 tre Campeslre , qui , tout couvert de honte , ne tarda pas & revenir a 
 Lyon. II eut le front de s'y donner comme le meilleur ami d'Erasme , 
 et, gr^ce k ce slratageme , il Irouva un patron qui , le croyaul sur pa- 
 
 (1) Apres la mort d'Erasme , Dolet fit amende honorable el ^cclara qu'il voulail 
 elrecompteparmi les ndmiialeurs dece grand genie. Maussac,qui aedilc les lellresde 
 Scaliger, rapporle que cet liypercriliqiie etail sur le pointdese reconcilier avee Erasme 
 quand celui-ci raourut. Voy. les Commentaria linguce launce de Dolet, t. U, p. 151 
 et 520 ; la Vie d'Erasme, par Burigny, t. d , p. 100, 388 et 512 ; t. II , p. 3?1 . 
 Voyez aussi J. -C. Scaligeri Epistolcn aliquot , etc. Tolosai , d620, p. 59. 
 
 (2} Si les moines onl maudit Erasme a cause de ses Colloques et de son Eloge de 
 la Folie , le clerge de Lyon lui doit quelqne reconnaissance et ne pent se dispenser 
 de prier pour le repos de son Ame , le jour de saint Irenee ; car c'est lui qui publia, 
 ,i Bale, chez Froben, en 1526, I'edition princeps des OEuvres de cet illusire eveque. 
 Nous lui devons aussi deux editioqs de I'Homelic de Conlemptu munfi de saint Eu- 
 cber, qui ful aussi evfeqiie de Lyon. Ces deux editions, enrichies de scholies, pa- 
 rurenl a Bale en 1S31 et 1532. 
 
 (3) Nous citerons enire aulres la Legcnda aurca de Yoragine, niise dans un nouvcl 
 ordre , et imprimee par Frad'm , en 1516. 
 
 (4j On a fait a Lyon plusieurs edilionsde cc genre a I'usage de la jeunesse. Inu- 
 tile de dire que le dialogue des Holelleries ne s'y Irouve pas. 
 
9 
 
 role, lui fit bcaucoup de polilesses. Campeslre lui temoigna sa reconnals^ 
 sance en lui derobanl Irois cents (5cus. Nanti de ce petit tresor , il prit la 
 fuite ; on coiinil apres lui , et , quand on I'atteignil , c'est , s'il faut en 
 croire Erasrne (t), inter aliquot puellas, tjti'on le surprit. Tout autre que 
 lui aurait ^16 peudu, mais iUlul sonsalut il'liabit sacredontil elail revetu. 
 Conlraint k s'exiler , il alia chercher un refuge dans le duche de Ju- 
 liers oil il apostasia et devint miuislre del'eglisede Luther (£ras»M.E'p!s«. 
 ad Cliolerum , ad ealeein Cotlofjuiorutn ; Burigny, Vie d'Erasme, I, 523 ; 
 Bibliolh. Scriptor. ord, prwdieaCorum , If , 52 ; Biogr. du general Beau- 
 vais) . 
 
 Mais revenons aux amis lettres que le pliilosophe de Rolerdam compla 
 parnii les Lyounais el aveclesquels il eut un commerce epistolalre. L'or- 
 dre des dates appelled'abord iiotre Jean Gmlier ; la lettre qu'Erasme lui 
 ecrivit est dalee de Louvain, le 24 avril 1518. Voici I'analyse que J. M. L. 
 Coupe nous en a donnee dans ses Soirees litieraircs, tome XX, page 133 : 
 
 « Toutes les (oh que ma bonne etnile me fait rencontrer I'amitie de 
 quelques-uns de ces vertueux savants qui vous resserablenf , je la saisis ft 
 I'instant comme la chose la plus precieuse de la vie ; mais il faut que ce 
 bonlieur se presentenaturellementft moi ; je ne vais guere le chercher et 
 ne m'ingere jamais dans I'amitie de personne , surtout dans celle des 
 grands , s'ils n'ont la bonte de faire les avances. Mais une liaison faile 
 avec la veritable vertu met le comble a mon bunheur. Gar , dites-inai, au 
 nom des Graces , quel bien aussi desirable que I'amitie peut-on trouver 
 dans la vie ? D'autres Ini pr6ferent de riches possessions, et moi, Grolier^ 
 avec vous seul , je suis plus riche que Cresus. Un nouvel ami augmenle 
 mon tresor. Que les Muses ne m'aimentplus si je ne suis pas mille fois 
 plus content d'etre aime de vous, de Bude , de Deloine, de Ruze , que 
 si le roi d'Espagne me donnait I'archevSche de Tolede ! Je ne saurais ja- 
 mais m'acqmtter envers Jules Calvus {2),k qui j'ai 1' obligation de vous con- 
 nailre. II vous a peint ft mes yeux avec des couleurs si vives et si naturelles 
 qu'Apelles lui-meme n'aurait pu faire un portrait plus ressemblant. II elail 
 tres eloquent en me parlant de vous , parce qu'il avail la bonne eloquence 
 qui part du coeur. Sans I'amour , en effet , la persuasion ne Iriomphe que 
 bien faiblement ; elle a besoin du flambeau decfrdieupour enflammer. 
 Jules Calvus I'avait dans ses mains , en me peignant ft longs trails 
 toutes vos qualiles , la douceur de vos moeurs , voire polilesse , voire mo- 
 
 (1) Euist. ad Joan. Chottrum, 5 ocl. 1 32. 
 
 (2) Ce Jules Calvus elait probablt'iuent de la meme faliiille que Fr.nicuh 
 Calvus, liljiairc a Rome , iiii ties corrospondanis d'Eiasme. Voypz Panzer Annal , 
 t.'vill, p. ^6;. 
 
10 
 
 desjie, vfttfe amour pour les tellres, votre usirucliou aiBoable. Heu- 
 reuse Frauce de posseder (ant d'homines de merite , d'une socieCe si 
 douee , d'une conversaliw si Mvissaiate ! Eufin Calvus m'a inspire he 
 plus gfawd desir d«t vous ecrire : j'ai pris la plume ; vous voyez, comme 
 elle s'egare , mais vou^, voyez aussi qiiw> moii ccbup oe 1* percj pas de 
 vue...(l) » 
 
 Les deux letlres d'Ej-asnae a I'abbQ AoLoine d'Albon sont datees,d:e Fei- 
 boiiig en Brisgaw ; la pFemigr^ esl du 27 no.Yembre' 1530, , la seconde 
 du preoiier a\ril s«iyau,t.. Yoici uye traducliott libre de la premiere r 
 
 " Une personne qui se rend a Lyon pour revenir ici s'esl presentee k 
 niiol : j« a'ai pas voulu (ju'elte aHal aupres de vous, sans vous porter nies 
 letlres. Eu lisaot celle que vous m'avezecFite, el qui m'aete apportee par 
 le l.he«Jogi«u Mallarius, d*an«eon€ qu'elte elait, ello est devenue nouvelle 
 pour moi et; j'ai eproiive un double plaisir k la reltoe , car elle respirait 
 
 k la fois la candeur de voire ftrae et votre obligeante politesse 3e 
 
 u'ai pas liu saus rougir ce que voiis me dites de mes luGubralions ;• toute- 
 fois je dfeirais arderoment qu'cltes fussent assez soigiiGes pour n'ietre pas 
 tout-A-fait indigvies deplaire aux yeax el aux oreiHestJe ceux qui vous 
 ressei»blent. 
 
 « Si je vous ai bicii comp*is, il y a deux choses dans votre leltTe qui 
 exigent de ma part une jtistificalion. J'ai recu , je le confess© , avec une 
 grande froideur Mallarius , homme pourtant si digno, ct que vous m'a- 
 vez si cliaudemeflt recomma^d^ ; mais ne vous en pteuez qa'k Fetat de 
 
 ma sante Sachez que j'ai refu- plus froklemeni encore , raalgrcJ 
 
 sa liaule naissance et sa profonde erudition , Cliristophe de StadioD', 
 
 eveque d'AusJjourg Si j'ai demeure sept mois sans vous ecrire , 
 
 pliit 4 l>ieu (ju'il ne fallut en accuser que la diseWe des secretaires et le 
 peu de loisirs que me la.issent mes etudes. Pendant que Majlarius etait 
 ici , a« mois d^'avril deniiec , j'eotrais a peine en convalescence , lors- 
 que les vents les plus doux , mais les plus nuisibles , rameaerent mama- 
 ladie. J'aieu d'abord des coliiq4]<;s de ventre , lourment plus cruel que te 
 mort , puis un abces vers le uombrij. II a fallu me livrer aux medecfns 
 
 (i) Yoici (luelques lignes dii le\le do celle Ictlie : ■■ Noii lu libris, sed til>i dc- 
 .. bent libri, ffilernam per te apiid poslei'os raenioriam habilm-i. Quod si maxiinead 
 X uomiiiis immorlalilalein liUerarum au\iliis.egeret inclyla villus, nihil eial iiecesse 
 « aliunde petere , quo! lihi domi esl, qui sic lilleratis faves , ul sis inler lilleratos 
 .. lilleralissimui. O vere inagnum el regno dignum animum ! O telicemGalliam.qiiam 
 .. tot modis npbilitas.; felicem Insubriara cui lu juxia oelebralissimiim Plalonis elo- 
 .. gium, sijnul et magistcatum exliibes, el philosoplinm sic Renipublicam adminis- 
 .. tras ut interim stnJiorum omnium anlistitem agas . .. ! •> 
 
11 
 
 el au pfus iiihumain des chirurgiens. U n'y aurait pas eu de fin ft mes 
 maux , si on no ro'eflt fait avec le fer line incision au ventre. Le cTivin 
 Erasme s'esi vu conduit par 1ft au bord du (ombeau ; il a souffert un vrai 
 martyre. Je siiis enltn deKvre de ce nial avec lequel j*ai luHe pres de cinq 
 mots , et qui a epuise toutes mes forces. Pliit ft Dieu qn'il me fut permis 
 d'aller voir voire Tempe , voire ile plus barbare de nom que d'effet ! 
 Depure tonglemps mes yeux se portent sur eel asile , oil ma vieillesse , 
 apfes tantdesouffl-ancesetde combats , pourrait se reposer. Jc suis in- 
 vite par beaueoup de personnes, mais je ne sais quel secret senlimenl fait 
 incliner men ftme vers la France. Ce n'esl pas ft cause de ses bons vins , 
 Lien que ce soil quelque chose ; car , duranl eel ele , pen s'en est fallu 
 que je ne sois mort de soif , moi qui ne suis pas du tout buveur. Je 
 serais all'e a Besancon t) , si ce n'elait la lulle quiexiste, dit-on , en- 
 Ire les magistrals et les chanoines. Souventije Iressai'llais de joie en pen- 
 sant ft Lyon , mais j'en el'ais d(?tournd par different motife. Outre la 
 longueur du voyage , rien n'dtait dispose pour m'y recevoir; enfln il y 
 aTOit guerre entre les Savoyards et les Bernois. Je voufais partir d'ici 
 aux calendes de seplembre , parce que I'on y 6tait menace de la 
 peste , de la famine et de la guerre evangelique (car il leur plait de la 
 rwmmer afnst). Mais vers ce lemps-lftje recus des lellres de la cour im- 
 pertate qui m'Bngageaita ne pas parlir avantfa fin du Concile ; encasde 
 
 danger, on devait m'avertir I^e Turc a miserablement (raitel'Au- 
 
 trithe , et tout recemmentla Moldavie. Si Dieu n'y pourvoit , il faut s'at- 
 tendre encore a de plus grandes cruaules. On menace le rot des Anglais , 
 parce qu'il se dispose ft repudier sa femme. Je mo rejouis de ce que vo- 
 
 (1) Evasme iivait pouc ami a Besancon un eure qui, etamt ii.n' jom' £oi'l' embarrassc 
 dfun sermoa et d'une messe cfn'il avail acomposei' pour lia 65te de Notre-Danfie de 
 LoreLte, le pi'ia de se changer de ce travail. Ce seiman el celCe niesse. se, ttoiivent 
 dans le Teairo Jtislorico dclla Santa casa Nazarena, da P.-"V. Martorelli ; Roma , 
 tT.35, ^vol. iii-fot Voyez Essai sur I'EloqiLence de la Chake , pai: Gj-os de^ Bes- 
 plas , Pai'is , 1767, in- 13 , p. 32d . 
 
 Celte note etait cci ite lorsque je ve^us. de M. Weiss une lletli'ft dateC' de Besancon,, 
 le 2 4 octobie 1841, dans laquellc se Irpuve le passage siiiivaut: 
 
 It J'ai deja eii li'Dccasrani de remarquei' bien des fois., mon. cbec ami , que nous 
 avoiis uue anie et uii esprit fa9onQes de ta mime mauicre , coules. au neme mnule. 
 Voiis n'avcz pnesque pas un pro^et litlcraire que je ne I'aie eii de nion cote, saus que 
 noii&nous:l.e sflyojns,commuHif[iiie.. Vous faites. un liiavailsiirEiiaaiiiedajisses rappoi-ls- 
 avec Eyon ; j'en aJ fgi.t ua, il y Q quatce oiij ciiiq, an*, sun les iiappoiMa de- ce gpaud 
 lioHjime aiveC' ma Fianche-Ccmle. Mes travaux soat li, copies et traduclions, il ne 
 ine reele plus qiUi'a les mellre en. ctiivpe... .. ~ 
 
12 
 
 re France est example de toules ces calamites , et je souhaile qu'elle le 
 soil toujours. Certes , je ne voudrais pas d'autre retraile pour mes vieux 
 jours. Conlent de peu , I'argent ne me manque pas. Je desire un port 
 (ranquille, puisqueDieu seul peut mettre un ferme aux troubles de I'Al- 
 Icmagne. Si vous daignez repondre i cette letlre, vous me procurerez une 
 grande consolation. 
 
 « Dans le cas oii Mallarius se plaindrait'de ne pas recevoir de leltre de 
 nioi, qu'il pense que celle-ci est aussi ec.rite& lui-meme , puisque tou- 
 les choses sont ceriainement communes enlre des amis lets que vous. Que 
 le Christ tres-bon et Ires-grand vous conserve tons deux en boune 
 sante ! 
 
 « De Fribourg en Brisgaw, le 27 novembre de I'annee 1530. u 
 
 La seconde letlre d'Erasme k I'abbe de I'lle-Barbe n'esi pas moius in- 
 leressanle que la premiere : 
 
 « Si les corps , lui dil-il , Iraversaient aussi facilement le monls el les 
 vallees que les esprits les franchissent dans leur vol , deji Vile Barbare , 
 plus digne, i mon avis, d'etre appelee heureuse [Macaria], aurailErasme 
 parmi ses botes. Mais , oulre la longueur du voyage , je suis effraye par 
 la Yolumineuse epltre de Mallarius qui me fait un long recit du dechai- 
 nemenl que certains porteurs de capuchons ont excite centre un absent , 
 a propos d'un de mes Colloques. Que feraienl-ils done quand je serais au- 
 pres de vous, et quand ils nous sauraient unis par des liens si inlimes? 
 J'ai vrairaent pilie de ces pelils esprils ; car s'ils sonl tels, ceux (jui font 
 profession d'une piele parfaile , par le litre el par I'babil, que faut-il al- 
 tendre de ceux qu'ils appellenl raondains ? Au reste je me suis expliqiie 
 plus au long sur ce point dans ma reponse k Mallarius, noire ami cora- 
 mun 
 
 « Depuis longtemps nous sommes infesles par une pesle qui no sail 
 pas s'arreler. La disette de toules choses s'accroil chaquejour.Qu'arrivera-1- 
 il?Dieu le sail. Ce qui se passe nepromel rien de bon.et cependanl il est 
 difficile k ce corpuscule de changer de nid pour en chercher un aulrc oii 
 il serait plus en surete. 
 
 « On dit que les Turcs levent Irois armees : Tune marchera sur 
 I'Aulriche centre Ferdinand , I'aulre sur la Pologne..., la Iroisieme 
 sur Naples d'oii elle ira demander sa benediction au Souverain-Ponlife. 
 Toules ces choses sont inquielantes ; n6anmoins je les crois moins 
 graves que si toute I'Allemagne et les pays qui I'environnent ^laient len 
 proie k la guerre civile. Vous me direz qu'une raaladie aussi terrible ne 
 peut etre guerie par des remedes vulgaires ; mais je bais les remedes qui 
 sont pires que le mal. Si la chose se Iraile avec le fer, la plus grande part 
 des calamites tombera sur ceux qui ne I'onl pas merile, et, sous pretexle 
 de defendre la patrie , une foule de brigands inondera le monde. Les 
 Espagnes nourrissent beaucoup de juifs deg-uises, et I'Allemagne un grand 
 
13 
 
 nombre d'hommes exerces k la guerre , el naturellement enclins in la ra- 
 pine. Toule cefle lie d^bordera d'abord dans I'AUemagne, at bientot dans 
 le resle du globe ; car ceux auxquels on a donu6 une fois des armes , ne 
 savent plus les quiHer. D6jft deux fois Rome et Venise nous en ontdonne 
 un echanlillon. Le monde n'a jamais eu de C6sar plus puissant que celui 
 qu'elle a aujourd'hui. Ce monarque , par sa piete et par son religieux 
 respect pour le siege romain , parait dispose k faire tout ce que lui pres- 
 cnra I'eveque de Rome. II faudra feliciler celle generation, s'il ne vient 
 rien que de digne du Christ dans I'esprit du vicaire du Christ. C'est pour 
 beaucoup de gens unsinistre augure, de voir Florence traitee parClement 
 avec si peu de clemence (1). Que si le monde Chretien est en proie k lanl 
 de catamites , ne serait-ce pas parce que Dieu est irrite de nos crimes ? 
 yotre France a-t-elle jamais regu une plus grave blessure ? Elle n'a d'autre 
 serenity que celle qui vient apres la tempete. Vit-on jamais I'ltalie plus 
 affligee ? Je crains fort que de longtemps elle ne recouvre cette ancienne 
 vigueur dont elle jouissait autrefois. Quoi de plus turbulent que 
 I'AUemagne? Quoi de plus deplorable s'il nous advient tout ce qui nous 
 menace ? Ne serai f-il pas opportun d'ordonner que Ton boira avec plus de 
 retenue, qu'il y aura moins de luxe dans les repas etdans les vetements, 
 que les ecclesiastiques auront la tete un peu plus tondue , qu'ils dormi- 
 ront seuls et qu'ds feront descendre leurs robes jusqu'aux talons? Mais 
 Dieu seul a le pouvoir de purifier la source de toules les actions , et il 
 le fera si nous recourons k sa misericorde avec une confiance pleine et 
 sincere. Implore avec ferveur , il donnera aux primals de I'eglise un es- 
 prit qui fera moins de cas des biens du monde que de la gloire du Christ ; 
 it donnera aux princes un esprit qui les disposera au mepris des riches- 
 ses , des vaines gloires, de la vengeance et de toules les passions hu- 
 maines ; il leur accordera cette sagesse celeste qui triomphe de loute ma- 
 lice terrestre ; il donnera aux pretres et aux moines le veritable mdpris 
 du monde et I'amour des Salutes Ecritures ; il donnera aux magistrals et 
 aux peuples lacrainte de son nom. 
 
 « Je vous souhaite, ainsi qu'a tous ceux dont la piete est egale k la voire, 
 une parfaite sante. 
 
 « De Fribourg en Brisgaw, le l^r avril , I'an 1531 de la naissance du 
 Christ ». 
 
 Mallarius dut recevoir en mfime temps que I'abbed'Albon la letlre que 
 lui^crivit Erasme, puisqu'elle est dat^e du 28 mars 1531 (2). C'est une 
 
 (16) Ce jeu demotsen rappelle iiu aulre de Vollaiie , qui doiiiiq a Clement dc; 
 Dijon le surnom d'liic/e'ineiil. 
 
 (17) Cetle date est celle que donne I'cdilion de Leyde; elle remplace la date qii'oH 
 lisait dans I'original , el qui esl ainsi concue • V. Cal. y4]iiil An. a Cliiislo nolo 
 
14 
 
 de celles que le philosopliejde Rolcrdam ecrivil de sa propre main ; elle 
 est fort loDgue et route sur des matieres tlieologiques et litteraires. On y 
 trouve una reponse k la letlre que Mallariuslui avail ecrite de Sain-Bel (1), 
 le premier fevrier precedent , etdans laquellc il lui raandait que la visite 
 qu'il lui avail faite ft Fribor.rg en Brisgaw , I'avait expose aux plusatroces 
 calomnies de la part de quelques bigots qui I'accusaient de partagerles 
 id^es nouvelles en fait de religion (2). Mallarius repoussail celle irapula- 
 tion en termes tres-eoergiques. II se plaignait aussi de ce 'qu'on lui faisait 
 un crime de sa passion pour les leltres anciennes. Erasme douoe des con- 
 solations k son malheureux ami, et s'efforce de le rassurer ; il termlne sa 
 reponse en I'engageanl a traduire en latin quelques auteurs grecs; il lui 
 rappelle que plusieurs savants onl oblenu el merite de grands eloges pour 
 s'etre livres a de pareils Iravaux. La letlre de Mallarius ne se Irouve pas 
 dans I'edilion des OEuvres d'Erasme publiee k Leyde ; cependanl elle avail 
 ete imprimde et publiee sous ce litre : Episiola Musarum grwcarum apo- 
 logelicaad jErasmMm.1530 (1531, n.s.). Elle est cilee par Maittaire(ii,744), 
 et par Panzer (ix, 150) Les exemplaires doivent en 6lre fort rares, et ce- 
 lui quiexisfe dans la bibliolheque du Roi est peul-elre unique (3). Tout 
 
 M.D.XX.X. La letlre portait pour signature ; Des. Erasmits Rot. mea manu ; ct ati- 
 dessous ce posl-scriplum qui n'esl pas dans ['edition de Leyde : <■ Qui lias reddit 
 « Ollomariis Luscin'ws, primus est biijtis iirbis ecclesiastes , niiisices egregie peri- 
 « tus, linguarum ac bonarum IJtterariim non imperitiis : per liunc poleris, si non 
 « gravaberis, rescribere. Vale. » Olbniar Liisciiiitis dtit arriver a Lyon vers les pre- 
 miers jours d'avril , et Mallarius ne perdit pas de temps pour piiblier sa lellre el la 
 reponse d'Erasme, car on lit, sur le litre du volume qui les contient , le millesime 
 de 1550. Paques, cette annee-la, se trouvant le 9 avril, c'esl ce jour-la que com- 
 men^a , suivant I'ancien usage , I'annee iS5i. 
 
 (1) Jpud Sahctom Bellum. 'Les abbes de Saviguy avaient prcs de Saint-Bel 
 ( qu'on ecrit aujourd'hui Sain-Bel) , un cbaleau situe sur un rocher au bas duquel 
 e.xistait un vingtain (fabrique de draps). Aim. dc Lyon de )760, p. 170 de la Des- 
 cription par ordre alpliabelique des villes , bonrgs, etc. 
 
 (2) Un dominicain de Lyon, Amedee Meigret, fut aussi , quelques annees aupara- 
 vant , accuse de lulherianisme. Mais un arrAt du parlemeut le vengea de cetle impu- 
 tation , et condamna Clement Barderon , chanoine de Saint-Nizier , qui s'elait porle 
 son accusateur, a lui payer 400 livres, a titre de reparation. Pernetii, 1, 216. 
 
 (3) Que devint Mallarius apres avoir public cette justification ? c'est ce qu'il m'a 
 ete impossible de decouvrir. Je ne le trouve mentionne dans aucune biograpbie.Du 
 Boulay le fait figurer dans le Catalogue des illuslres academiclens , place a la fin du 
 0' lome de son Histoire de I'Univcrsite de Paris. Voici ce qu'il en dit , p. 965 : 
 
 •• A'icolaus Hieronymiis Mallarius, doctor tbeologus et prior sancti Lamberti 
 
15 
 poile ii supposer que ce petit volume , saiis uom de lieu iii d'imprimeur, 
 esl sorti des presses deS6bastienGryphe; car on remarque sur le litre deux 
 petits fleurons qui ressemblent beaucoup 4 ceux que Ton voit sur le fron- 
 tispice du Sadoleli Interprelalio in Psalmum XCIII , imprime par cet ha- 
 bile artiste en 1533 (Lettre de M. Cosle, Paris, 11 janvier 1842). 
 
 II nous resle k faire connaitre la lettre d'Erasme 4 Cleberger ; elle est 
 courte, mais elle liiit autant d'honneur k celui qui I'a 6critequ'4 celui au- 
 quel elle est adressee; en voici la traduction lilterale : 
 
 « Erasme deRoterdami Jean Cleberger, (1) salut : 
 
 « Homme tres-cher k men coeur, je n'avais rien k vous mander, cepen- 
 daut des persoones sur lesquelles on pent compter pour vous ecrire s'offrent 
 k moi ; mais , comme jc presume que vous devez venir ici k la procliaine 
 I'oire , je ne vous ferai qu'une lettre de salutation , pour vous assurer que 
 ce pauvre Erasme, que vous avez vu deux fois k Bk\e k jnoitie mort, respire 
 encore (car je n'ose pas dire qu'il est vivant ) , et qu'il conserve encore le 
 
 D. Rotomageusis , anno i530 , sc noreiinavil ad collationem aichiepUcopi LugJu- 
 " nen. et alihalis Allianalensis. " Paradin cile, dans ses Uemoiice iw&lroe (p. 76 de 
 I'edil. de 1 048, iu-fol.) , un Nicolaus Malearius, parmi les plus celcbres thcologiens 
 de sou temps; mais ce personuage , doul le veritable nom \)tra.i\. kVte Mnllmius 
 n'est point celui qni ful I'anii d'Erasme; il piofessait la thcologie a Paris vers i55o; 
 il a aussi nn article dans le Catalogue de du Boulay (loc. Umil.]. Vojcz aussi une 
 prose laline publiee sous son nom vers i563 , contre Ronsard, et dout M. Leber 
 eliVI. Saiule-Beuve ont cite Irois strophes; le premier, p. cSg de KEtal reel de la 
 Presse, etc., el le second, p. 3oo de son Tableau de la poiiiie francaise, p. Soo, edit 
 de I843. Nous trouvons enfin dans la correspondaucc d'Agrippa une leltre du 10 
 Janvier 153 1, ou il est question d'un sieiir de Malard, qui a\ait recemment offeit 
 au prince de Culugne le livre d'Agrippa d^ T^anitate scieiiliariim. Ce sieur de Ma- 
 lard ne serait'il point tiotre Nicolas-Jerome Mallariiis ? De meme qu'Erasme , 
 Agrippa eut, parmi les membres e'claires du clerge de Lyon, des partisans et des amis; 
 mais les moines ne lui chercherenl pas noise, et c'est dans Ic convent des Caimes 
 qu'il logeait qnand il sejournait a Lyon. Voyez nos Notes el Dqcunt6iUs pour servir 
 a I' Hist, de Lyon , annee I524. 
 
 (j) Voyez son article dans le supplement de la Biogr. iiniv. (art. Kleberg). Voy. 
 aussi VHomme de la Roche, Lyon , H\\., in-8 ; et la Revue du Lyonn., tome xvii, 
 p. 3?4. Je persisle a croire que ce n'est point a Jean Cleberger qu'a ete elevee I'au- 
 cienne statue qu'on voyait sur la place de M. de La Roche; j'ajouterai a ce qui a 
 etc dit sur cellc question, que Beuoist duTroncy n'auiait pas appele Fierabras le 
 Furieux , le Bon AUemand , qui avait ete si genereux cnvers les Lyonnais , snrlout 
 a une epoquc oil il devait ei)corc cxister des conl<:mpu rains qui pouvaient avoir rie 
 l^moius de ses largesses. 
 
16 
 souvenir de voire courloisie. Sij'apprendsque vous etes en bonne sante,et 
 que lout va au gre de vos souhails, j'en aurai la plus vive joie. Si vousavez 
 quelque chose i me faire dire par ceux qui vousremellroiit ce billel, vous 
 pouvez compter sur leur discretion. Le pape Clement VII trioraphe avec 
 ses cardinaux ; nous les en felicilerions davaolage , si ce Iriomphe leur 
 claitcommun avec loute Teglise. Portez-vous bien. 
 
 « De Fribourg en Brisgaw , le 20 oclobre i 532. » 
 
 La volumineuse correspondance d'Erasme qui ne forme pas moins dc 
 deux volumes in-fol., ne parait pas nous offrir d'autres traces de ses rela- 
 tions avecnotre ville (1) ; toulefois , 11 nous reste encore, pour complelernos 
 recherches, ftparler-de quelques litterateurs elrangers qui ont habile a 
 Lyon , et qui out eu des rapports avec le philosophe de Roterdara. 
 
 ,*, Un ficossais, Florence Wilson, qui avail latinise son nom en celui de 
 FlorenliusVolunesus, elqui etaitconnu&Lyon oil il resida longtemps, sous 
 celui deF/orem< Volusenoa Volusan , doit figurer aussi parmi les docles 
 amis d'Erasme; car il avail ele son. disciple, duranl le sejourqu'il avail 
 fail, dans sa jeunesse, iTuniversite de Bale. Lorsque le cardinal Jean de 
 Lorraine fut nomme archeveque do Lyon, en 1536, Volusen , qui professail 
 alors la philosophle au college de Navarre , lui fut chaudement recoramande 
 |)ar Jacques Sadolet , ev^que de Carpentras , un des correspondanls d'E- 
 rasme. Volusen vint done s'elabliri Lyon, oii nous ignorons quel fut son 
 emploi ; mais il est k presumer qu'il professa la philosophie au college de 
 la Trinile. II composa deux ouvrages qui furent imprimcs par Seb. Gryphe; 
 i° Commentatio quwdam theologica , quce eadem precatio est in aphorismos 
 dissecla , impiime en 1539; in-8°; 2" un dialogue de Animi tranquillilale , 
 qui fut aussi publie par Seb. Gryphe, en 1543, et dont la derni^re edition 
 est de Francforl et Leipsic, 1760, in-8 (2). II fut orateur de la St.-Thomas 
 en 1551 , el, comme il se disposait ft retourner en Ecosse, il se rendil ft 
 
 (i) La Blljllolheque de Lyon possede iin exetnplaiie de I'edition des lettref 
 d'Erasme, publiee par Frobeii , en 1538 (n. 3497). Get exetnplaire a apparlenu a 
 Elieune Charpin , pr^tre de I'Eglise de Lyon , qui a copie a la suite de I'index nne 
 leltre qui ne se Iroiive pas dans cette edition , et dans laqiielle Erasme, ecrivant a 
 Alfonse Valdesius , sccrelaire Je rempereur. se justifie du reproche que ses ennemis 
 lui faisaieiit d'avoir sur son anneau une pierre gravee represenlant le dieu Terme 
 avec celle devise : Concedo nuUi. Celle lelire a etc publiee comme inedile a la fin 
 du lome x de I'Erasme de 170^ ; cependant elle se trouvait deja a la fin du tome ix 
 de I'Erasme de 1540. Voyez Buriguy, KVe d'Erasme, i, 577; la Rei'ue Jiritaniii- 
 que ,feviier 1856, p. 245 ; et la Blograplde Lyonii., art. Charput. 
 
 (2) Le lieu de la scene , dans ce dialogue , est a Lyon , sur la rive droile de la 
 Saone, oil il parall que Yolusea avail son logemcnt. 
 
Vienne en Daupliine , oil il fut subitement atleint d'une maladie tloiU il 
 mourut, en 1557. Volusen, oubli^Jlaujourd'hui, parait avoir joui, de son vi- 
 vanl , d'une certaine reputation conime poete lalin ; ses vers furent reunis, 
 vers 154S, avec ceux de Sannazar, de Vida,de Pal^arius, d'Ant. Flarainius 
 et de Castalion , dans un volume public par Jean Oporin , de B41e , sous ce 
 litre : Pit, graves alque elegantes Poetae aliquot , nunc primwm cunjuncli; 
 in-8° S.D. (Catal. Courtois ). Barth^lemy Aneau mentionne Volusen avec 
 eloge dans la dedicace qu'il a faite au comte d'Aran, de sa traduction des 
 Emblemes d'Alciat, Lyon , G. Roville, 1549. ia-S". Voyez I'art. Wilson 
 (Florence) dans la Biographie anglaise de Chalmers , la Revue de biogra- 
 phie analytiq., 1842, p.; 862; les lettres de Sadolet, VI , 17 etXVl, 13; 
 nos Notes et Documents , au 21 decembre 1567. * 
 
 „% On trouve plusieurs pieces a la louange d'firasrae , dans les Nugrn 
 de Nicolas Bourbon, publiees 4 Lyon , par Gryplie , en 1538, in-8 (1), 
 pendant le sejour que ce poete fit en notre ville. Les plus remarquables 
 sont trojs ^pitaphes que ce poete coraposa sur un faux bruit qui s'etait 
 r^pandu de la mort de son illustre ami ; elles meritent d'etre rappor- 
 t^es. 
 
 I. 
 
 Lis oritur : mens est, Germania dicit , Erasmus ; 
 
 Gallia^slans contra clamitat esse suam. 
 Hanc interveniens litem mala Parca diremit : 
 
 Neutrius est vestrum, sed meus, inquit, erit. 
 
 Lib. hi , carm. 3. 
 
 IL 
 
 Musarum columen , cujus per secula vivet. 
 Nomen, in hac urna pulvis, Erasme, jaces. 
 
 Lib. Ill , carm. 4. 
 
 III. 
 
 Audio (et hie utinam sit vanus rumor) Erasmo 
 
 Tres nevisse deas ultima fila seni : 
 Vivere se multi credunt quos vincere long6 
 
 Laudibus et meritis unius umbra potest. 
 
 Lid. IV, carm. 6. 
 
 (i) Lii. t, carm, 36, 37, 38 ; /i6. n, carm. 20I ; Hi. iv , carm. 9. On Irouve 
 aiissi a la fin dii l"' livre une lellre d'Erasmc a Nic. Bourbon, dalee de Fribourg en 
 Brisgaw, le 1111 des ides d'avril 1533. 
 
/ 
 
 18 
 
 »% Clement Marot, qui se trouvait i Lyon lorsqu'on y recut la noii- 
 velle dc la morl d'Erasme ( juillet 1536) , lui fit celle epitaplie : 
 
 Le grand Erasme ici repose , 
 Quiconque n'en sgait autre chose , 
 Aussi peu qu'une taupe il voit, 
 Aussi peu qu'une plerre 11 oit. 
 
 OEuvres, t. in, p. 264, edit. del731. 
 
 ,*, Jean VouKe, qui elait aussi un des admiraleurs d'Erasme, engloba 
 dans un seul dislique I'eloge funebre de Jacques Lefevre , de Zazius et 
 d'Erasme, qui terminerent tous trois leur vie presqu'en meme temps. 
 
 Tres uno vivunt, moriuntur tempore eodem , 
 Hand quibus in terris doctior alter erat (1). 
 
 Nous ferons observer ici que plusieurs critiques veulenf qu'Erasme soil 
 un des interloculeurs duCymbalum mundi, oil il figurerait sous le noni 
 (leDrarig, anagramme de celui de Girard, que poriait son pore (2); 
 nous ajouteroos que eel ouvrage qu'on attribue, sur le temoignage Ires- 
 equivoque d'Henri Eslienne, a Bonaventure desPeriers, pourrail bien 
 etre de Jean Voulle. Le meme m^daillou qu'on voit a la fin de I'e- 
 dition Acs Epigrammala de Voulle, publiee a Lyon en 1537, et qui repre- 
 senle un jeune poete, se relrouve 4 la fin de I'^dition du Cymbalum , 
 publiee aussi a Lyon I'annee suivante. Je soumets celle conjecture A M. Eloi 
 Johanneau et a Charles Nodier. 
 
 /, Un epigrammaliste latin , Gilbert Ducher, qui fit imprimor ses 
 poesies iLyon , en 1338 , nous a laisse ce pompeux panegyrique d'Erasme 
 rp. 42): 
 
 Debent mulla tibi linguae graeca alque lalina , 
 
 Illustres opera, conspicuaeque tua, 
 Debent multa tibi sacri simul alque profani 
 
 Autores , vitae redditi ab inleritu. 
 Ul numero dicam, longa quod dicere possem 
 
 Iliade , hinc debenl omnia mulla tibi , 
 Sancta redemploris, quod, Erasme, ad dogmata Chrisli 
 
 Veram iter humanis omnibus esse sludes. 
 
 (1) Voyez le Ducaliaiia, p iSi, el le Bayle de Beuclnot , arl. Fivre (Jacques le) 
 V. I, 4S0. 
 
 (2) Voyez Joly, Jiem, sur Bayle , arl Ebasme , p. 827. 
 
19 
 
 ^i*^iElieDnel)olet, qui avnil 6td si injuste el si passionne lorsqii'il prit 
 la defense de Longueil dans la fameuse qiierelle dcs Ciceroniens, et qui 
 elait d6jk revenu avant la mort d'Erasme k de meilleurs senlimenls, fit <V 
 sa louange une ode qu'il insera dans le torn. II de ses Commenlaria lingum 
 lalinm (p. 151) , afiii qu'elle lui servit d'excusc aux yeux de la posf^rile. 
 Celte piece, que nous ne reproduisons pas, se Irouve aussi dans les 
 Carmina de Dolet , Lyon, 1538, in-4, page 79, oil elle est preced^e d'un 
 Carmen k Jules Cesar Scaliger, sur son dialogue centre Erasme. On 
 (rouve encore, page 156 des Carmina de Dolet, unc piece ad ressee c'l 
 Melin de Saint-Gelais , sur Erasme et Lefevre d'Elaples, k propos d'une 
 eclipse de soleil (et noii d'une cometej , qui fut \isible I'annee do la 
 mort de ces deux grands horames. 
 
 Guillaume de Lisle (Gulielmus Insulanus) , grammairien beige ou hol- 
 landais (1), ignorait I'hommage rendu par Dolet fi la memoire d'Erasme, 
 lorsqu'il fit en 1537 I'oraison funebre de son compatriote; ily traite fort 
 mal Dolet, qui s'en plaint avec araertume dans le tome II de ses Commen- 
 laria, page 250. 
 
 »*, Presque fous les ouvrages d'Erasme etaient reimprimes k Lyon (2), 
 au fur et k mesure qu'ils paraissaient ; je soupconne m6me que plusieurs 
 y ont et6 impriraes pour la premiere fois; de ce nombrc doit etre celui 
 qui a pour titre : 
 
 Modus orandi Dcum.... Opus nunc primum nalum el excusum Cypis. 
 Lugduni in aedibus Jacohi Moderni de Pinguenlo, S. d. petit in-8. L'exem- 
 plaire que la ville de Lyon possede de ce petit volume, a appartenu a 
 Anthoyne Dumolin , probablemenf le mfime que V Anloine Dumoulin qui 
 etait valet de chambre de Marguerite de Navarre, et qui fut I'edileur des 
 poesies de Louise Labe el de Pernetle de Guillet. 
 
 (r) Voyez soil article driiis Moicri oi'i il est appele HJenapius ; mais ce iioin doit 
 clie celiii de sa province. II llgure aussi sous ce dernier nom dans la Biogiaplde du 
 general Bcaiivais. Son eloge d'Erasme se Irouve ii la fin de sa Sylva observationwu 
 lingua: lalince , pelil in-8, s. d. et sans nom de ville ( B. de Lyon, i6i , 27 i lo ). 
 — Un grammairleH italien, Francois Floridus, prit aussi la defense d'Erasme conire 
 Dolet. Voye/, Biogi: uiiiv., t. xv, p. 96. 
 
 [1) Les editions lyonnaises des ouvrages d'Erasme , surlout celles de Gryplie, 
 qui compta Dolet parmi ses correcteurs, I'emporlaient sur les editions de Suisse e( 
 d'Allemagne pour la beanie des caraclcres el pour la rorreclion. Elles n'claient pas 
 sou il lees de ces faules qui faisaieni le desespoir d'Erasme , etdont M. Brunei cite un 
 s ingulier exen>ple dans sun Manuel , lome 11 , p. 197, edit. d« 184 2. 
 
Erasmus as a Satirist. 49 
 
 Abt. III. — 1. MflPIAS ErKHMION. StultitioB Laus. Desi- 
 derii Erasmi Eoterodami declamatio, 1518. Erasmi Opera 
 omnia IV., 380-503. (Lugduni Batavorum). Written in 
 1510.1 
 
 2. Colloquia Familiaria Anctore Desiderio Erasmo Eoterodamo. 
 1524. Erasmi Opera Omnia I. 626-894. (Lug. Bat. 
 Written in 1522.^ 
 
 3. Erasmns Eoterodamus De Utilitate Colloquiorum ad Lecto- 
 rem. 1527. Erasmi Opera Omnia 1., 901-908. (Lug Bat.). 
 
 DuEiN^r the Diet of Augsburg in 1530, a little comedy was acted 
 in the dining-hall of Charles v., to amuse him and his guests. 
 A man in doctor's dress first entered the hall bearing a bundle of 
 billets of wood, crooked and straight, threw it down on the 
 broad hearth, and, in retiring, revealed the word Reuahlin, 
 written on his back. The next actor was also clad in doctor's 
 garb, and he set about making fagots of the wood ; but having 
 laboured long to no purpose, in fitting the crooked billets to the 
 straight, he also went away out of humour, shaking his head ; 
 and a smile went round among the princes as they read upon his 
 back Erasmus. Luther came next with a chafing-dish of fire, 
 set the crooked billets thereon, and blew it till it burned. A 
 fourth actor, dressed like the Emperor himself, poked the fire 
 with his sword, meaning thereby to put it out, but making it in- 
 stead burn brighter thafi ever. And lastly, a fifth actor came, in 
 pontifical robes, and, by mistake, poured oil instead of water on 
 the fiames. 
 
 The part assigned to Erasmus in this little comedy, three cen- 
 turies ago, is very much the part assigned to him by historians 
 of the struggle which it was intended to represent. It is the 
 part which he undoubtedly seemed to play as an actor on th©- 
 Protestant stage. At a certain point he seemed to turn from th 
 Eeformation in fear and disgust. It was very natural that Pro- 
 testants should, therefore, conclude that, so far as regards religious 
 reform, he was a time-server ; and this has ever been the Protes- 
 tant verdict. 
 
 Such a verdict is not, howevej", a logical deduction from the 
 evidence, unless it be proved that, in turning away from the 
 Protestant cause, he was departing also from his own convic- 
 tions, and kicking against the pricks of his own conscience. It 
 
 ' Letter from Erasmus to More, prefixed to the " Praise of Folly." 
 « Eras. Op. i., p. 895. 
 VOL. XXXII. NO. LXIII. " 9 
 
52 Erasmus as a Satirist. 
 
 Erasmus has singled out Aquinas, the best of them, as at least 
 worthy of praise, seeing that he had, at all events, studied the 
 Scriptures. Colet holds his tongue, as if wishing to pass from 
 the subject. Erasmus is not then mine even yet ; perhaps he is 
 thinking to himself. But Erasmus turns the conversation upon 
 Aquinas again. Colet turns his searching eye upon his friend, 
 to see whether he is speaking, as he does still, sometimes, in jest, 
 to bring on an argument such as he delights in. Erasmus is 
 this time in earnest. He really does think still that Aquinas 
 was a great theologian. The fire kindles in Colet's eye. " Why 
 do you praise such -a man as Aquinas?" he says earnestly — " a 
 man who, unless he had savoured much of the spirit of the world, 
 would never have polluted, as he did, Chrisfs_doctiiiiSLby mix- 
 ing up with it his profane philosophy," - 
 
 Eew words these, as is^i^oliFs wont ; but Erasmus opens 
 his heart to receive them. He likes Colet's boldness, and begins 
 to think that he must be right. Yes, he thinks over to himself, 
 this strange, complicated web of philosophy — this splitting of 
 hairs, and discoursing upon utterly immaterial points — whatever 
 else it be, it cannot be that Christianity which is to save the 
 souls, not only of the learned, but of women and children, 
 peasants and weavers. But, if I begin to doubt what the Church 
 divines teach, where am I to stop ? And again, he goes to Colet, 
 the when and the where we know not exactly, but this we do 
 know is the lesson he learns — a lesson that will stick by him for 
 the rest of his life, and be, as it were, a loadstar to him in the 
 darkness of the troublous times that are coming. "Believe. 
 what you read in the Bible, and in what is called the Apostles' 
 Creed," says Colet, " and don't trouble your mind any fiirther. 
 Xiet divines, if they like, dispute about the rest. And, as to the 
 observances in general use among Christians, it is better to observe 
 them whenever they are clearly not contrary to the Scriptures, 
 lest you should harm others by their non-observance."^ 
 
 Erasmus begins now to enter into the great object of Colet's 
 life. It is to bring out again the Scriptures as the founda- ' 
 tion of theological studies — to fight down the schoolmen with 
 the Bible, — to preach the Bible and not the schoolmen, from the 
 pulpit — to teach the Bible and not the schoolmen at the Univer- 
 sities, utterly regardless of the tempest and the dust that may 
 be raised, or whether he, D. Colet, shall survive it or not. 
 " Erasmus, will you join me in this work ?" he writes to his dis- 
 ciple at last, " I want a partner in my labours." Erasmus re- 
 plies, bidding Colet God speed ! That Colet should have put 
 his own shoulder to the wheel,' he marvels not, but he does mar- 
 vel that Colet should wish such a novice as he to join hands in 
 ' Opera Eras. i. 653, C. 
 
« The Praise of Folly." 53 
 
 so glorious a work. He feels that he is not ready — he must 
 study theology deeper first — he must nerve up his mind to 
 greater courage. " JBut when I shall be conscious that I have 
 courage and strength enough, I will lend my aid to your work. 
 Meanwhile nothing can be more grateful to me, than that we 
 should go on, as we have begun, discussing, even by letter, the 
 meaning of the Scriptures. Farewell, myColet."' 
 
 Now, what was the consequence of this Oxford intercourse 
 wiA-Gplet, extended, as it was, by letter, till Colet's death ? 
 
 ^IsL/We find Erasmus ever after devoting the best of his life 
 to Biblical labours, his Greek New Testament, translations, and 
 paraphrases — works ugernvwhich the Reformation may be said to 
 have been founded^? ^d,) We find Erasmus ever after taking 
 Colet's position in taeology — believing the grand doctrines of 
 the Bible and the apostles' creed, and regarding philosophical 
 questions as questions for divines, secondary only in importance, 
 about which men may well differ. 3d, We find Erasmus ever 
 after firmly adhering to the Church and her usages in general, 
 but hard in his blows, and biting in his satire, upon every abuse 
 or usage which seemed to him contrary to the Scriptures. And 
 among the abuses upon which he lavished his severest satire, 
 were the morals of the clergy and monks, the reliance of the 
 latter on their rites and observances, auricular confession, par- 
 dons and indulgences, saint and image worship, and war, upon 
 all which points Colet's views and his were closely alike. Colet 
 had either taught them to Erasmus, or they had learned them 
 together from the Bible. 
 
 We turn now to the " Praise of Folly ;" in order, first, to point 
 out the circumstances under which it was written, and then to 
 bring home to the reader the views it expressed. 
 
 After some years of close study of Greek, and through its aid, 
 of the New Testament and early fathers, during which his in- 
 tercourse with Colet is maintained by letter, Erasmus determines 
 to visit Italy. He cannot be satisfied without going there; and 
 so, after another short visit to his English friends on his rough 
 hack, with his travelling boots and baggage, behold him trudg- 
 ing, day after day, through the dirt of German roads, such as 
 they were three centuries ago. Thoroughly hard, unintellec- 
 tual day-work this for our student, in his jaded bodily condi- 
 tion, now close upon 40. Strange places, too, for a book-worm, 
 those road-side inns, into which he turns his weary head at 
 night. One room serves for all comers; and into this one room, 
 heated like a stove, some eighty or ninety guests stow them- 
 selves, boots, baggage, dirt, and all. As their wet clothes hang 
 
 ' Eras. Op. v. 126. 
 
54 Erasmus as a Satirist. 
 
 \oii the stove iron to dry, they wait for their supper. There are 
 among them, footmen and horsemen, merchants, sailors, wag- 
 ' goners, husbandmen, children and women, sound and sick — 
 combing their heads, wiping their brows, cleaning their boots, 
 stinking of garlick, and making as great a confusion of tongues 
 as there was at the building of Babel ! No literary work can be 
 done here, it is plain ; and, when past midnight, Erasmus is at 
 length shown to his bedchamber, he finds it to be rightly named 
 — there is nothing in it but a bed, — and the great task before him 
 is now to find, between its rough unwashen sheets, some chance 
 
 v( hours of repose.^ 
 
 So fare Erasmus and his horse on their day by day journey 
 into Italy, sometimes a little better and sometimes a little worse j 
 but by virtue of perseverance in the jog-trot of the steed, and 
 patient endurance on the part of the jolted rider, Erasmus at 
 length finds himself in Italy, and after diverse wanderings, in 
 Home herself. Now we are not going to tire the reader with a 
 description of what Rome was in those days, or with a long de- 
 scription of what Erasmus did there — how he was flattered, and 
 how many honours he was promised, and how many of these pro- 
 mises he found to be, as it is said injuries ought to be, written in 
 sand. We had rather see him on his old horse again, jogging on 
 as before, back again from Italy after some years' stay there, tra- 
 velling the same dirty bad roads, lodging at the same kind of 
 inns, and meeting the same kind of people, on his way home to 
 England. There are hearts in England that Erasmus can trust, 
 whether he can or cannot those in Rome ; and, when he reaches 
 England, and is safely housed with his dearest of all friendS' — Sir 
 Thomas More, and can write and talk to Colet as he pleases, he 
 will forget the toils of his journey, and once more breathe freely. 
 But what concerns us most is this ; that it was to beguile these 
 dreary journeys, that he thought out in his head, and that it was 
 when he was safe in More's house that he put into writing his 
 famous satire upon the Follies of his age — a satire which had 
 grown up within him at these roadside inns, as he met in them 
 men of all classes and modes of life, and the keen edge of which 
 was whetted by his recent visit to Italy and Rome — a satire 
 which he wittily named " The Praise of Folly." 
 v. In this little book he fulfilled his^^romigSLioColet : — " When 
 I have studied a little dBETp^T^ind have got courage enough, I 
 will come to your aid." What Colet and he had whispered in 
 the closet at Oxford, in it he proclaimed upon the house top. 
 And let it be remembered, it was no mere obscure pamphlet, 
 cautiously printed, anonymously, till it should be seen how the 
 
 ^ world would take it ; the wounds it made were not inflicted in 
 ' See Erasmus' description of these inns in his colloc[uy entitled, " The Inns." 
 
p 
 
 Satire on the Schoolmen. 55 
 
 the dark by an unknown hand, but the barbed arrows of his 
 satire flew openly in the daylight, straight to the mark, and their 
 wounds were none the less keenly felt because they were known 
 to have come from the bow of the world-famed Erasmus ! 
 
 Folly from her rostrum deals with a variety of topics, and 
 Jy' finds votaries everywhere. She portrays the "grammarians" 
 or schoolmasters, as despicable tyrants, and their filthy, unswept 
 schools as " houses of correction," She points to the foUies of 
 the lawyer, sophist, and astrologer, in turn, and has her hard hit 
 at each. And then passing from smaller to greater and graver 
 fools, she casts her eye upon the schoolmen : — 
 
 " Perhaps it would be safest for me to pass these by. It might be 
 hazardous to speak of men so hot and passionate. They would, doubt- 
 less, brand me as a heretic." Bat, nevertheless, she undertakes the 
 task, and points out the sort of questions in disputing about which 
 they spend their lives — such as whether Christ, instead of taking upon 
 Himself the form of a man, could hdve taken upon Him the form of a 
 woman, a devil, a beast, an herb, or a stone, and how, in the last case, 
 He would have preached His gospel, or been nailed to the cross, — 
 questions of so subtle a nature, that the apostles themselves would 
 stand in need of a new revelation were they to engage in controversy 
 with these new divines. These men (she continues) complain that St 
 Paul, when he said that ' faith is the substance of things hoped for,' laid 
 down a very careless definition ; and say that he described charity 
 very inaccurately in the 13th chapter of the first Epistle to the Corin- 
 thians. Again — " The apostles were personally known to the mother <-> 
 of Jesus, but none of them philosophically proved, as some of these 
 men do, that she was preserved immaculate from original siu; The 
 apostles worshipped in spirit and in truth ; but it does not appear that 
 it ever was revealed to them how the same adoration that is paid to 
 Christ should be paid to His picture here below upon a wall. They 
 often mention ' grace,' but never distinguish between ' gratia gratis 
 "data' and ' gratia gratificans'.' They earnestly exhorted to good 
 works, but never explained the difference between 'opus operans' and 
 ' opus operatum.' They invite us to press after charity, but they 
 never divide it into ' infused ' and ' acquired,' or determine whether it ^ 
 is a ' substance' or an ' accident.' " And so in other particulars. 
 
 Writing these words at More's house, Erasmus could not help 
 mentioning the existence of a little band, who felt as though 
 they could shake off the very dust of their feet against this scho- 
 lastic theology. Thus a little farther on Folly adds : — 
 
 " But there are some men, and among them theologians too [Colet 
 for instance], who think it sacrilegious, and the height of impiety, for 
 men thus, with unclean lips, to dispute so sharply and define so pre- 
 sumptuously of things so sacred, that they are rather to be adored 
 than explained ; and thus to defile the majesty of divine theology with 
 their own cold wordsand sordid thoughts. 
 
56 Erasmus as a Satirist. 
 
 " But, spite of these better men, the divines choose to follow their 
 own fancies ; they will occupy themselves night and day in their own 
 foolish studies, while they will scarcely spare a moment to read either 
 the Gospels or the Epistles of Paul." 
 
 Truly Erasmus has in good earnest joined Colet in his battle 
 against the schoolmen. He has taken Colet's simple view of 
 theology, and has grown bold enough to publish it. And though 
 the " Praise of Folly," being a satire upon existing abuses, does 
 not tell us fully what he wishes to see in their place ; yet there 
 is other abundant evidence, that he not only sought to wean 
 men's minds from the works of the schoolmen, that he also" 
 sought to lead them to the Bible. He was already preparing 
 for his Greek New Testament, by a patient study of its con- 
 tents ; and already was the truth dawning on his mind, which 
 afterwards found vent in his defence of his Testament, viz. that 
 the Scriptures should be translated into all languages, so that not 
 only all Christians, but that Turks and Saracens might read 
 them. " I would," said he, " that the peasant should sing the 
 truths of the Bible as he follows the plough ; that the weaver 
 should tune them to the whirr of his shuttle ; that the traveller 
 should beguile with its stories the tediousness of his journey."^ 
 
 From the doctrines of the schoolmen and divines, " Folly" 
 turns to the morals of popes and clergy, their secular pursuits, 
 and the wars which they engage in themselves, and foment 
 among thje'princes : — 
 
 " T^' popes of Rome (she says) govern in Christ's stead ; if they 
 would' t>nt imitate His example, there would be no party strife, no 
 buying of votes in the conclave, to secure an election ; and those who, 
 by bribery, get themselves elected pope, would never resort to pistol, 
 poison, force, and violence, to maintain their position. . . . It is 
 
 /singular that St Peter should have told our Saviour that he had left 
 all to follow Him, and yet could leave as an inheritance to these 
 popes (St Peter's patrimony they call it), fields, towns, treasures, and 
 
 \large dominions ! While, too, their only weapons should be those of 
 \the Spirit, to defend this patrimony, they fight with fire and sword. 
 As if Christ were perished, they defend His rehgion 
 by arms. Yes, though war be so brutish, that it becomes beasts 
 rather than men — so frantic, that even the poets feigned it to be the 
 work of the furies — so Ucentious, that it puts a stop to all justice and 
 honesty — so unjust, that it is best waged by ruffians and banditti — 
 and so impious, that it cannot exist along with Christ ; yet, in spite 
 of all this, these popes will go to war." . . . 
 
 Then again, " the popes only thrust their sickle into the harvest 
 oi profit, while they leave the toil of spiritual husbandry to the bishops. 
 The bishops, in their turn, bestow it on the pastors ; the pastors on 
 their curates ; they, again, commit it to the mendicant monks ; who 
 
 ' Erasmi, Op. T. 140. 
 
The Monks — Pardons — Saint-Worship. 57 
 
 give it again to such as know how to take advantage of the flock, 
 and to benefit out of their place." 
 
 Passing from the clergy to those " who vulgarly call themselves 
 ' the Eeligious,' and ' Monks,' though most of them are as far 
 from religion as they swarm in numbers," the satire rises to a 
 severer tone — a tone, the very seriousness and solemness of which 
 must have made it doubly stinging to its unfortunate victims. 
 
 " Their reb'gion consists, for the most part, in their title . . . 
 and yet they think that they have worked so many works of super- 
 erogation, that one heaven can never be reward enough for their 
 meritorious life ; little thinking that Christ, at the last day, shall put 
 all their works aside, and ask only whether they have fulfilled His own 
 single precept of charity. Then will one brag that he has fed only 
 upon fish — another that he has done nothing but sing psalms — a third 
 will tell how many thousand fasts he has kept — another will plead, 
 that for threescore years he has never so much as touched a piece of 
 money, without protecting his fingers from pollution by a double 
 clath — another shall glory in having, for seventy-five years, lived Uke 
 sf sponge, fixed to one spot — another shall aver, that his voice is 
 /hoarse with incessant singing — another, that his tongue has grown 
 stiff with long silence. But Christ, putting a stop to their never- 
 ending self-glorification, shall answer, ' I told you plainly in My 
 Gospel, that My Father's kingdom was promised, not to cowls or 
 habits, vigils or fastings, but to the practice of charity. I cannot 
 own such as think so much of their own deeds as if they were holier 
 than I. Let those who prefer their own traditions to My precepts, 
 go and occupy the empyrean heavens, or order new ones to be built 
 for them.' 
 
 " When the monks shall hear these things, and see sailors and wag- 
 goners preferred to themselves, what grimaces, think you, will they 
 not make?" 
 
 Thus boldly did Erasmus bid defiance to the most powerful 
 rabble upon earth — a rabble that he well knows will take sum- 
 mary vengeance in one way or another. 
 
 As to indulgences and pardons, without saying that all pardons 
 , are wrong, he points out the evil of their abuse. 
 
 " By the purchase of pardons, a merchant, soldier, or judge, 
 by giving up a portion of his ill-gotten gains, deems the sink of 
 his neart purged from iniquity— a bargain struck, as it were, 
 with his sins ; and then, all arrears being paid, he enters upon a 
 new cycle of crime." 
 
 As to saint-worship, without condemning it altogether. Folly 
 asks, " What do men pray for, and thank the saints for, but such 
 things as minister most to their folly ? One has escaped from 
 shipwreck ; another has lived through a battle ; another, while 
 the rest were fighting as bravely and as happily, fled. Another 
 has broken jail ; another, against the will of his physician, has 
 
\ 
 
 58 Erasmus as a Satirist. 
 
 recovered from a fever ; but nobody thanks the saints for pre- 
 serving him. from Folly !" 
 
 Such was the " Praise of Folly ;" silent upon the use of these 
 things (if such there be) but bitter as gall upon tneirprevalent abuse. 
 
 We turn now to the Colloquies to ask, first, under what circum- 
 stances they were written, and then what views they expressed. 
 Ten years have passed since the former satire was written. 
 Colet, having laboured manfully during his short noble life, 
 rests from his labours. Erasmus has not yet foHowed him. A 
 wanderer from city to city, to study this manuscript and that — 
 struggling with poverty, the wolf scarcely ever driven for long 
 together from the door — irritated by constant conflict, owing to 
 the enemies that his bold satire has made — worn by incessant 
 literary toil — the loss of friends, and the excitement of success — 
 in the midst of wasting bodily maladies, he has, nevertheless, 
 given to the world his Greek New Testament ; and the wonder is, 
 that he is still among the living. He had worked hard in the hope 
 that he might eke out his bodily strength to the end of his great 
 work ; but to survive the thrill of approbation with which the 
 best men of Europe have hailed its publication, was beyond what 
 he looked for. 
 
 A little while ago, he was indeed brought to death's door. But 
 the destroyer spared him. " Who would have thought that this 
 frail wasted body (he writes) weaker now by increasing age, after 
 the toils of so many journeys, and the labour of so many studies, 
 should have struggled through such an illness as I have had. 
 You know how hard I had been working at Basle just before it. 
 I had a kind of suspicion that this year would be fatal to me, 
 because worse and worse maladies came so thick upon me in suc- 
 cession. When the disease was at its worst, I felt that I could 
 neither grieve at the loss of life, nor tremble at the fear of death. 
 There was hope in Christ alone ; and to Him I could only pray 
 that He would give me just what was best for me. Formerly, 
 when a.young man, I remember that I used to tremble at the mere 
 name of death." ^ 
 
 It was then from a sick, and as it was thought, a dying, bed, 
 that Erasmus rose to grapple with times more troublous than any 
 hg,had yet seen. 
 
 While Erasmus had laboured, another man had entered into 
 his labours, and was pushing them much further than he had 
 dared to do. While, with the rest of the world, he was wonder- 
 ing what manner of man this newly risen Luther could be, the 
 world expected him to tell them boldly what he was ; and to 
 take his side either with Luther or the Pope. For long he had 
 ' Erasmus to Beatns Rhenanus, Eras. op. 
 
The Colloquies. 59 
 
 kept silent, on the pretext that, not having read his works, he 
 was not able to judge. Then the crisis had come. The Papal 
 Bull and Luther's book, " De Captivitate Babylonic§,," had made 
 all things ripe for a schism. He grieved to separate himself 
 from such men as Hutten and the gentle Melancthon. He 
 hated the very thought of siding with the monks, " for if the 
 monks get the upper hand again, they will try," he said, " to 
 entomb Jesus Christ so that He may rise no more." But yet he 
 dared not lend his aid to a schism. " I vKauld-jain," he writes, 
 "with Luther with all my heart, if I .saw L he was w i1;,h_J,hfl 
 C atholic churc h. If things come to extremities, and the Church 
 toffers on both^ sides, I will fix myself on the solid rock till a 
 calm succeeds, and I can see which is the Church." Was it 
 wonderful that, in his bodily weakness, he should refuse to join as 
 a leader in the Protestant battle ; that he should complain of 
 being dragged into the controversy, and confess that not having 
 the courage requisite for a martyr, he feared, that if put to the 
 test, he should imitate St Peter?" Was it strange that he 
 should choose rather to pursue in peace, so long as bodily strength 
 might allow, those Biblical labours that Colet and he had planned 
 and undertaken together ? Whether strange or not, he has made 
 his choice, and to that choice j,dher.esT 
 
 He publishes revised editions of his New Testament ; and, 
 more than this, he proceeds steadily with a work supplemental 
 to it — a work, the first portion of which had been issued as early 
 as 1517, while Luther was sticking up his thesis on the Wittem- 
 berg church doors — and which had been commenced many 
 years before that, viz., a simple paraphrase or exposition of the 
 plain sense of the text of the New Testament, undefiled hj the 
 subtleties of the schoolmen, and unbiassed even by the contro- 
 versies raging around him. How honestly and faithfully this 
 work was accomplished, is pointedly shown by the fact, that when 
 an English Bible was ordered to be placed in every English 
 church, at the suggestion of the Protestant Ooverdale, an English 
 translation of these paraphrases of Catholic Erasmus was ordered 
 to be placed side by side with that Bible, as best fitted to teach 
 its real meaning to the people. At this work, then, it is that 
 Erasmus is labouring, while torn in pieces between the two 
 opposing parties, and while he is refusing to side with either, to 
 the vexation of both, it is this work that he is writing to Froben, 
 the printer, to press forward, though to the neglect of others, 
 being the one best fitted for times such as these. 
 
 Had the paraphrases been written in calmer times, we might 
 have passed them by ; but that, in the most controversial of all 
 times, this most uncontroversial of all expositions of the Bible, l 
 should have come from the pen of Erasmus, is too sure a proof 
 
60 Erasmus as a Satirist. 
 
 to be slighted, how closely he followed the advice of Colet, 
 " Keep to the Bible and the Apostles' creed. Let divines, if 
 they like, dispute about the rest." 
 
 Nor is this mention of the paraphrases irrelevant to our review 
 of the satire of Erasmus. It was during the intervals of his 
 Biblical labours that the old vein of satire,Jraced before, found 
 vent again, this time in the garb of a merescEooTbook, dedi- 
 cated to one of the children of Froben, the printer, and entitled, 
 "Fam iliar Colloquies." _ And these little bursts of wit are only 
 to bB-CtJrrectly J udged with those greater and graver labours in 
 the background. 
 
 Ji What are these "Colloquies?" 
 
 \ " This book (said Erasmus) is not a book upon the doctrines 
 
 V^ of our faith, it treats upon the art of correct speaking." 
 \ It begins with simple instructions as to what a polite boy is to 
 
 say upon this and upon that occasion, so that he may pass for a 
 gentleman, and not for a churl. It teaches what forms of salu- 
 tation are used by the vulgar, and what approved by the 
 learned ; how to greet a friend or a stranger when you meet, 
 and how to bid them farewell at parting. It then proceeds to 
 explain, by example, how a man may show his concern for 
 another who is ill, or congratulate him if he be well. And, as 
 by degrees the sentences and conversations lengthen, they grow, 
 into dialogues on various subjects supposed to be instructive to 
 youth. As these advance^ tliey becoTBfi Igsf and less trivial, and 
 more anaTmnTS^erious,' until at last, by insensible degrees, you 
 find yourself undef'the full force of the sesecesL-satije, one 
 thing after another passing under the laHTin turn. 
 
 As in the " Praise of Folly," so in the ". C-ftlloquies," Erasmus 
 takes no pains to conceal his disgust at the utter-Jiollowiiess and 
 want of principle which marksTKe'tone of general society, or 
 his conviction that monkery has eaten into its very core, and 
 is to be blamed for much of its rottenness. 
 
 Take, for instance, the colloquy of the " False Knight." It 
 reminds one of EUesmere's essay on " The Art of Self- Advance- 
 ment," in the last series of " Friends in Council." It professes 
 to show how a man may cut a respectable figure in the world, 
 though, in fact, he is nothing at all, and has nothing at all — not 
 even a conscience. 
 
 " Go to a place where you are not known, and call yourself a 
 nobleman, for the nobility have a general license to be lawless. If 
 any traveller Bho\j|d chance to come that way — it may be out of 
 Spain — ask how your cousin the Count of Nassau does, and the like. 
 Wear a seal-ring upon your finger (you can get a brass ring gilt for a 
 trifle). Hang a coat-of-arms up over every door you lodge at. Have 
 counterfeit letters sent you, in which you are styled ' the Illustrious 
 
Evil Influences — Monkery. 61 
 
 Bjiight,' and so forth, and in whicli there are plentiful mention of l/' 
 castles, estates, and great affairs. Contrive to drop these letters 
 by chance, or what is better, send your coat to the tailor's to be 
 mended, with one in the pocket ; and, when you hear of it, as you 
 will, put on an air of exceeding vexation at your carelessness. Take 
 care to have servants about you who shall call you ' My Lord,' and so 
 on. Bribe some needy printer to mention you in his pamphlet as 
 some great man, e. g., a nobleman from Bohemia, and in capital letters. 
 And mind you your servants must gain their pay by the use of their 
 fingers. In the retinue of a nobleman they can do this with ease. 
 Then, as to the money, people always give to a nobleman credit. And 
 never be afraid of your creditors ; they will never offend so great a 
 personage, lest they should lose their money altogether. No one has 
 his servants more in awe than a debtor his creditor. If you ever pay 
 them "anything they will take it more kindly by far than if it were a 
 gift. When they come to you always make a show of money. If 
 you have to borrow the money, and pay it back the same day, you 
 must have money to show. When you are over head and heels in 
 debt in one place, remove to another ; that is the way all great 
 princes do, and therefore you need not fear — ^you are in good company. 
 . . . If things grow desperate, pick up a quarrel with some monks 
 or priests (they always have plenty of money). Breathe nothing but 
 destruction and ruin upon them, and when they are thoroughly terri- 
 fied, offer to compound matters by the demand of 3000 pieces of gold. 
 If you demand such a sum, they will be ashamed to offer you less 
 than 200, at all events. When you find that you must leave the 
 place altogether, give it out that you are called away suddenly by the 
 emperor, and let it be known that you will shortly return at the head ^^ 
 of an army. And, finally, you need not forget that you have a pair of ^C 
 heels to trust to, if you cannot depart like a lion !" 
 
 After such maxims as these (vye have only given the pith of 
 them) the colloquy winds up with reminding the reader that to 
 play such a part with success, one thing is absolutely needful, viz., 
 that a man should believe that after death there will remain nothing 
 of him but his carcase ! 
 
 Take again the colloquy called " Charon," in which Erasmus 
 represents the old ferryman mourning his wrecked boat, while 
 his overcrowded passengers are paddling among the frogs. Fame 
 brings him word that he may expect a brisk trade ; for the furies 
 have shaved their crowns as smooth as an egg. Strange animals 
 in black, white, and grey habits, are hovering about the ears of 
 princes, and stirring them up to war. In France they preach 
 that God is on the French side ; in England and Spain that the 
 war is not the king's but God's I Add to this, that a new fire of 
 strife has grown up of late in the variety of opinions that men 
 have. At these news Charon determines to invest the halfpence, 
 which for the last 3000 years he has been scraping together, all 
 in a new boat. But, alas ! he says, if any should start a peace, 
 
62 Erasmus as a Satirist. 
 
 my gains -will be taken away at once ! Never mind that. They 
 who preach peace, preach to the deaf. Alas, too, all the 
 Elysian woods having been felled for burning heretics' ghosts, 
 where is his wood to come from ? Then who is to row over these 
 multitudes ? The ghosts shall row themselves, says Charon, if 
 they have a mind to get over. What if they have never learned 
 to row? Charon has no respect of persons. He will make 
 kings row, and cardinals row, as well as the poorest peasant. 
 Every one with him takes his turn. Meanwhile the banks of 
 the river are already crowded with ghosts. Charon goes after a 
 boat, and the messenger hastens on to hell with the good news ! 
 Passing from the general to the particular, in another colloquy 
 Erasmus represents a soldier coming home with empty pockets, 
 but heavy laden with sin. He tells of the crimes comrilitted 
 under the sanction of the law of arms. His friend tells him that 
 his only excuse is, that he is mad, with the most of mankind. The 
 soldier retorts that he has heard a parson say from the pulpit 
 that war is lawful. "Yes," says the other, "pulpits are no 
 doubt oracles of truth ; but though war be lawful for a prince, it 
 does not follow that it is lawful for you." The soldier then urges 
 that every man must live by his trade. " Ha," replies the other, 
 " an honourable trade this ! — to burn houses, rob churches, 
 ravish nuns, plunder the poor, and murder the innocent." 
 "What of that!" replies the soldier^:* "if I had robbed Christ 
 Himself, and cut off His head afterwards, the priests have par- 
 dons to cover it, and commissions large enough to compound for 
 it." " But what," says the other, " if your composition is not 
 ratified in heaven f " What a troublesome fellow you are, to put 
 such scruples in my head. My conscience was quiet enough 
 before; pray, let it alone." "Nay, you should be glad to meet 
 a friend who gives good advice." " I can't tell how good it is," 
 says the soldier, " but I am sure that it is not very pleasant ;" 
 and so they part. 
 
 " I wrote this colloquy,'' says Erasmus (in 1526), " that young men 
 may learn to hate the villanies of the soldier's life. And in what I say 
 about pardons in these colloquies (and they are often mentioned), I do 
 not condemn all pardons, but those vain triflers, who put their trust in 
 them without the least thought of amending their lives. Surely it is 
 well to admonish young men in this matter. But you will say, that 
 by this means the commissioners may lose their gains ! If you are an 
 honest man, hear me : If they be good men, they will rejoice that the 
 simple are thus warned ; but if they be such as prefe^ gain to godli- 
 ness, then — ^Fare-them-well ! " 
 
 Next we adduce a colloquy satirizing Confession and Saint 
 Worship 
 In the " Shipwreck," the efiect of the terrors of a raging sea, 
 
t 
 
 Satire upon Saint Worship and Confession. 63 
 
 and the prospect of a watery grave, on the various passengers, is K^ 
 depicted with all Erasmus' power and skill in word-painting. 
 You feel yourself in the midst of it all as you read it : shrouds 
 and masts shattered and gone; bales of merchandise turned 
 overboard ; sailors singing lustily their "Salve Eegina," in hopes 
 that the Virgin Mary (though she never took a voyage in her 
 life) may hear them, and save them from the all-devouring sea. 
 An Englishman promises mountains of gold to " Our Lady at 
 Walsingham ;" another, a pilgrimage to St James de Compos- 
 tella, barefoot and bareheaded, and begging his way; another, 
 at the top of his voice, vows a wax taper as big as himself to St tk 
 Christopher (but whispers that if once on shore, he shall not I 
 have even a tallow candle). How affliction makes men religious ! 
 One man only there is on board who- makes no vows, and bar- 
 gains with no saint. "Heaven is a large place," he says; " and 
 if I should recommend myself even to St Peter, who, as he 
 stands at the door, would perhaps hear soonest, before he can 
 come to God Almighty and tell Him my condition, I may be 
 lost. I will go to God the Father Himself; no saint hears 
 sooner than He does." There is a mother there, with her little 
 child clasped to her bosom, calmer than any one else. She neither 
 bawls, nor weeps, nor makes vows ; but hugging her little boy, 
 she prays softly and in silence. The ship dashes now and again 
 against the ground. She mugt soon fall to pieces. Here is an 
 old priest, and there a Dominican monk; and see how fast every 
 one in turn is making hasty confession ! There is one only who, 
 seeing the bustle, confesses himself privately to God — the man 
 who had prayed to God. Then comes a cry of land. But the 
 ship is falling to pieces. A rush begins for oars, planks, and 
 poles. The boats are overcrowded, and sink. Only seven out 
 of seventy-eight passengers get safely to shore ; and among 
 them are found, not those who promised mountains of gold to 
 the Virgin, or wax candles to the saints, — not those who bawled 
 their loudest " Salve Regina," — not those who confessed most 
 devoutly to the priest and the monk; — but the calm, pious 
 woman and her child, and the man who prayed and confessed 
 himself only to God, these are the first to be landed in safety ! 
 
 Holding these colloquies to be conclusive evidence that Eras- 
 mus, while still adhering to the Church and her usages in 
 general, as he has ever done, is bold as ever in his satire upon 
 such abuses or usages as are in his view contrary to the Bible, 
 we now turn to the question, how far he maintained in this work 
 the general position in theology, which, as we have said, he had 
 inherited from Colet, and adopted as his own. 
 
 Has the great Protestant Revolution materially changed his 
 views ? Does he, still hating the schoolmen, still look upon the 
 
64 Erasmus as a Satirist. 
 
 Bible as the fountain-head of the Christian faith 1 Does he 
 still point to the Apostles' Creed as the line within which the 
 interpretation of that Bible should be unanimous throughout the 
 Christian Church? Is he still willing to admit that, beyond 
 that line, men may well differ in their interpretations, and need 
 not be too anxious to agree ? Now that difference of opinion 
 has become more prominent than ever, does he depart from his 
 liberal views ; or does he seek to disarm the difference of opinion 
 of its bitterness by calling men to rally round their points of 
 agreement, rather than fight about unessential points of difference? 
 There is a' colloquy called the " Child's Piety," in which one 
 schoolboy tells another about his religion. In answer to numer- 
 ous questions he is made to say, " iTsneel down by my bedside 
 at night, say over the things learned during the day at school, 
 and ask Christ's forgiveness for my faults." ..." During 
 divine service, when I feel myself polluted with the stain of any 
 sin, I do not withdraw myself from the altar, but in my mind, 
 standing as it were afar off, as though not daring to lift up my 
 eyes to God the Father, whom I have offended, I strike upon 
 my breast, and cry out with the publican, ' Lord, be merciful to 
 me a sinner." . . . "I give thanks to Jesus Christ for His 
 unspeakable love in condescending to redeem mankind by His 
 death, and I pray that He will not suffer that His most holy 
 blood should have been shed in vain for me." . . . "I con- 
 fess daily ; but I confess to Him who alone truly remits sin." 
 "To whom?" "To Christ." "And do you think that enough?" 
 " It would be enough for me, if it were enough for the rulers of 
 the Church and received custom. Whether Christ appointed 
 confession as now used in the Church, I leave to be disputed by 
 divines. To confess to Christ is certainly the principal confes- 
 sion, and nobody confesses to Him but he that is angry with his 
 sin. If I have committed any sin, I lay it open and bewail it to 
 Him, and implore His mercy ; nor do I give over till I feel the 
 love of sin purged from the bottom of my heart ; and the peace 
 of mind that follows, I take as a proof of the sin being pardoned. 
 I confess to a priest before I go to communion, but even then 
 only in few words." As to his future life, he rather inclines to 
 divinity, " though the bitter contentions among divines displease 
 me." Finally, to the objection that many are afraid of divinity, 
 because they see no principle but what is called in question, he 
 answers, " I believe firmly what I read in the Scriptures and 
 the Apostles' Creed, and I don't trouble my head any further. 
 I leave the rest to be disputed and defined by the clergy, if they 
 please. Whatever is commonly observed among Christians, if 
 it is not repugnant to the Scriptures, I also observe, lest I should 
 harm other people. . . . When I was a boy, and very 
 
He still Holds his Early Views. 65 
 
 young, I happened to live in the house of that honestest of men, 
 John Colet ; . , . and he instructed me, when I was young, 
 in these precepts." ^ 
 
 Finally, there is another colloquy, in which a Catholic is made 
 to examine a Protestant closely concerning his belief in the 
 Apostles' Creed. And having elicited from the Lutheran a full 
 and orthodox answer to every question upon every point in turn, 
 the Catholic at length confesses : " When I was in Rome I did 
 not find all so sound in the faith ! Well, then, since you agree 
 with us in so many and weighty points, how comes it that there 
 is this war between you and the orthodox?" And, in his de- 
 fence of the Colloquies, before quoted, Erasmus says (in 1526) : 
 " I set forth in this colloquy the sum of the CathoUc faith, and 
 that, too, somewhat more clearly than it is taught by some divines 
 of great fame. I bring in the person of a Lutheran, so that by 
 showing that we do agree in the chief articles of orthodox reli- 
 gion, a reconciliation may be made more easy between them and 
 us. . . . Let us try (he continues) candidly to interpret 
 other men's words,, and not esteem our own as oracles; for where 
 there is hatred in judging, judgment is blind. May that Spirit, 
 which is the pacifier of all, who uses His instruments in various 
 ways, make us agree and consent in sound doctrine and holy 
 manners, that we may all come to the fellowship of the true Jeru- 
 salem, that knows no discords !" 
 
 Clearly and explicitly must these Colloquies be admitted to 
 uphold those general views which we have endeavoured to bring 
 out in these pages, as the views that Colet and Erasmus had ,, 
 accepted before the name of Luther was known outside convent i> 
 walls. 
 
 But it may be said, as it has been said a hundred times, 
 " Why, then, did Erasmus attack Luther?" It is no part of 
 our purpose to deny that Erasmus had faults, or to free his cha- 
 racter from every charge of inconsistency. Theory is one thing, 
 and practice another. A man may be sectarian in his very de- 
 nunciation of all sectarianism, if he denounce it in a sectarian 
 spirit. And that that spirit is to be found embittering the words 
 of Erasmus when in controversy with Luther, far be it from us 
 to deny. Few men of that day were free from it. But it is 
 worth our while to remember, that the charge Erasmus made 
 against Luther, in his controversy on the Freedom of the Will, 
 was not only a charge of error in his view of the question itself, 
 but also the very charge which he and Luther had both made 
 against the schoolmen — " Why encumber Christianity with your 
 philosophies ?"-::::[rha.t the position taken by Erasmus upon that 
 — __ — — "^ " ~' > Erasmi, Op. i. 653. 
 
 yOL. XXXII. NO. LXIII. ''^ E 
 
 •\ 
 
^ 
 
 66 Erasmus as a Satirist. 
 
 question was, that it loas one of philosophy, — a question which 
 had vexed Pagans before Christ was born, and which was in its 
 nature inexplicable. He thought, therefore, that it was best not 
 too anxiously even to try to fathom its unfathomable abyss."^ 
 
 Leaving, then, the faults and weakness of Erasmus, in matters 
 of action and practice, uhfoldrainiTifl3eIended,"we have, in con- 
 clusion, to ask only whether any alteration in his general views 
 can be traced in his last works arid words. 
 
 Would that we could throw anything of tragic interest or 
 brightness round his last years. There is something so grand in 
 a great man's life, ending just in its meridian glory — whether 
 the end comes, as in More's case, upon the scaffold, or the pesti- 
 lence steps in rudely, as in Colet's case, and spares him the trial 
 of faith, and perhaps the pains of martyrdom — that it is painful 
 to dwell instead upon the long dragging out of life through 
 years of sickness — the pale messenger so long in view, but so 
 long in coming, as if the process of dying were as tedious as 
 man's life is short. 
 
 Thus it has been usual to hush up the last days of Erasmus. 
 But we want to know, v?hen we hear of his being crippled by 
 disease, and brought nigh to death's gate, whether he still holds 
 at seventy, and dying, the views learned from Colet at thirty, 
 published in the " Praise of Folly" at forty, and confirmed by 
 his Biblical works and Colloquies between fifty and sixty. 
 
 Let us then look at Erasmus, on the verge of seventy, wrapped 
 up in his blankets, writhing with pain, daily dragging his wasted 
 body, as it were, piecemeal to the grave — and mark that he is 
 writing, in his sixty-seventh year, a simple exposition of the 
 Apostles' Creed, and a treatise " Concerning the Unity of the 
 Church in Love." 
 
 It is well to mark, too, how he bears up under the news of the 
 execution of his darling friend. Sir Thomas More — that execu- 
 tion, of which a severe critic has acknowledged that it was the 
 world's wonder, as well for the circumstances under which it was- 
 perpetrated, as for the supernatural calmness with which it was 
 borne — a calamity which was to Erasmus like the severing of his 
 joints and marrow, but which was borne by him patiently, under 
 the full and avowed assurance, that very soon he should meet 
 again that friend, " whose bosom was," he said, " altogether 
 whiter than snow."^ 
 
 Nor did his sorrow stop that work which his maladies could 
 not. His grief found vent in the preface of a treatise, which 
 he named " Ecclesiastes" or " the Method of Preaching." The 
 great want of the Church he thinks to be pure and Christian 
 pastors, who should scatter the seed of the Gospel. He asks,- 
 ■ Erasmi, Op. EpistolsB 764 D. ' See preface to " Ecclesiastes." 
 
His Last Words. 67 
 
 Whence the coldness of men's hearts? Whence so much 
 paganism, under the Christian name ? And he answers these 
 questions by saying, " When I was in Italy, I found a people 
 willing to be taught ; but I did not find the pastors to teach them." 
 
 Thus dropping the negative tone of satire, his mind grapples 
 with positive and practical questions, during the months of suf- 
 fering and sorrow which usher in his seventieth year, and the 
 pale messenger with it. 
 
 He has urged with his dying voice the purity of pastors to/ 
 feed the flock. Thirty years ago he declared his opinion ir 
 the " Praise of Folly," that the priests and clergy alone di( 
 not make up that Church which is the spouse of Christ. Wb 
 should he not add the testimony of his dying voice to the purity 
 which the Gospel demands equally of each individual Christian 
 and member of that Church ? He takes up, therefore, his pe; 
 once again. " Some think," he says, " that Christ is only to b^ 
 found in the cloister. I think He is to be found, universal as the 
 sun, lighting the world. He is to be found in the palaces of 
 princes, and in the soldier's camp. He is to be found in the trireme 
 of the sailor, and in every pious heart. , . . Know thenj oh A^ 
 Christian ! thy true dignity, not acquired by thy merit, but given j 
 thee from heaven. I am speaking to thee, whether thou art a [ 
 man or a woman, young or old, rich or poor, noble or ignoble, a \ 
 king, a peasant, or a weaver ; arid I tell thee, whoever thou art, if \ 
 thou art bom again in Christ, thou art a king ! thou art a priest ! 1 
 thou art a saint ! thou art the temple of the living God ! Dost 
 thou gaze in wonder at a temple of marble shining with gems 
 and gold ? Thou art a temple more precious than this ! Dost 
 thou regard as sacred the temple that bishops have consecrated ? ' 
 Thou art more sacred still ! Thou art not anointed only with ; 
 sacerdotal oil ; thou art anointed with the blood of the im- 
 maculate Lamb." ..." Each in his own temple," Eras- \ 
 mus goes on to say, " we must sacrifice our evil passions and 
 our own wills— offer up our lives and hearts^ — if we would at last 
 be translated into the heavenly temple, there to reign with ^ 
 Christ, to whom be glory and thanksgiving for ever !" 
 
 This is the last sentence of the last work of Erasmus. It 
 bears date January 1536. On the 15th of July, after uttering 
 many sentences, which, says his friend, Meatus Rhen&,nus, plainly, 
 showed that he put all his trust in Christ, with the words " lAeber 
 Gott" upon his lips, he died at midnight. 
 
 Thus the last days of Erasmus set a seal to the consistency 
 with which he held the main tenor of his religious views un- 
 changed to the end. 
 
68 The Silence of Scripture. 
 
 Aet. rV. — 1. Tlie Silence of Scripture. A Lecture by the Rev. 
 
 J. C. Miller, D.D. London : J. Nisbet and Co. 1858. 
 2. Essays on Certain Peculiarities of the Writings of St Paul. 
 
 By E.Whately,D.D., Archbishop of Dublin. London, 1858. 
 
 Its the Silence of Scripture, lies a Negative Internal Evidence 
 and Teaching. It is a buried evidence and teaching, not like 
 the body of Moses, where no man might find it to this day; 
 but like the seed-corn, to be found and to be fruitful in its 
 season. Silence is not always Sir Oracle. It may only be a 
 cover for ignorance, a silence of necessity ; proceeding from an 
 unthinking mind, or unfeeling heart, — that nothing, out of 
 ■which nothing comes. To be an Evidence, it must be of design, 
 and not of necessity ; not only so, but of wise, far-seeing design, 
 into the ways and workings of human nature ; of a foresight and 
 sagacity far beyond the human, which no writer would have 
 thought on, nor reader looked for, — nay, where all readers, before- 
 hand, would have looked for speech, unreserved and outspoken 
 — a Silence not accountable, therefore, on any natural or human 
 principles ; which expresses the presence of Him who sees the 
 end from the beginning. 
 
 The Silence — especially that of the New Testament — has been 
 oftener felt than acknowledged, and exerted an unconscious in- 
 fluence, where no one ventured an audible interpretation. It is 
 chiefly in our own day that this voice without any sound has 
 begun to be openly noted as a character of Holy Scripture, and 
 admitted, not only as an Evidence of the Divine, but as de- 
 signed, in its season, for reproof, correction, and instruction, in 
 common with the positive and articulate voice of Scripture. 
 
 The piety of Boyle, the cotemporary of Newton and Hook, 
 had discerned the wisdom hid in Scripture Silence, and ex- 
 pressed it with equal truth and beauty, " Scripture teaches 
 us, like the sun-dial, not only by its light, but by its shadow." 
 Hall of Leicester has a discourse on the glory of God in con- 
 cealing a matter, in which he dwells on the concealment in the 
 mysteries of Scripture — a concealment that pertains to the 
 nature of the subject, and of the human mind — which might have 
 been looked for, and cannot, therefore, be regarded as properly an 
 Evidence of the Divine presence in the formation of Scripture. 
 The first, so far as we know, that brings it out distinctively, as 
 an Evidence, is Dr Whately. To him belongs the honour of 
 having broken ground, and put his plough into this new soil. The 
 omissions of Creeds and Catechisms, and Forms of Devotion, in 
 the New Testament, appear to him as the most remarkable in- 
 
length, wearied with his perversity, threatened J" j^^/TV. 
 violence, and their undutiful son fled precipitately f^ 
 from home. Gerard's sudden flight was fatal to yV^^uTCih-'V- 
 his promise of marriage ; and the fair but indiscreet- /^ p-) AmJ^ 
 Margaret, who should have been his wife, with- ^^^i.^^^^L-C-C^ 
 drew to Rotterdam, and gave birth to a son, who fji^Aki t'CZT 
 was called Gerhardus Gerhardi^ Gerard the son oi jt / ^ V 
 Gerard. Following a fanciful custom of the learned \ , \ /j 
 
 men of those times, who translated their names' ; '""^ "* ; 
 
 K*) Compeadivm Vita Erasmi, edit. Mervla, Lugd-Batav. 1697. 
 p. 9. Eksch und Grubek, Allgemelnc Encyklofadh, art. " Erasmus" 
 [by H. A. Erhard.] Fkaser's Magaaine, vol. xi. p. 539, et seq. 
 Lond. ^art. RevieiBfflo, ccXL. July, 1859. D, Nisard, fieiiBi; 
 dcs Deux Mondci, Aout et Sept. 1835. Dublin University Maga- 
 zine, vol. XLii. p. 545, el sej. and vol. xuii. pp. 283 and 684. It 
 is, perhaps, hardly necessary to remark, that Mr. Charles Reade's 
 extremely entertaining historical novel, The Cloister and the Hearth 
 (London, 1861. 4 vols. sm. 8vo), is based upon the Ccmfendivm 
 Vita Erasmi. 
 
 (•) An interesting article " On the Latinization of Names vciU be 
 found in the " Huetiana" (Paris, 1721, izmo), by the learned Peter 
 Daniel Huet, Bishop of Avaranches, a translation of which, with 
 some additions, was published in Valpy's Classical Journal, Lond. 
 1810. 8vo, vol. i. pp. 247 to Z51. A rather amusing essay on "La 
 Revolte Des Noms Prof res Latinisex " may be found in the Melanges 
 d'Histoire et de Lilleralure recueillis par M. De Vignuel-Marville 
 [i. e. Dom Bonaventure D'jirgonne^. Rouen, 1701. i2mo, tome 
 
 2 
 
[ xii ] 
 
 into high-sounding Greek and Latin, Erasmus, in 
 his youth, transformed his paternal name Gerard, 
 which signifies in the German language, '■'■Amiable" 
 into the Latin Desiderius, and again into the Greek 
 Erasmus, words which have the same signification. 
 
 iii. pp. 78 to 106. See, also, L'Abbe d'Artigny's Nou-acaux Mi- 
 moires J'Histoirt, de Critique el de Littcraturc. Paris, 1753. Iimo, 
 tome vi. pp. 291 to 308, 
 
 The reader specially interested in the study of proper names, will 
 find much important and novel information in the following works : 
 
 I. Mabc. Ant. Majoragius, Oralis De Mutatione Nominii 
 quam pro le habuit in Senatu Medio/anensi , qua variis rationibus pro- 
 batur unicuique licere sibi nomen immuiare, Mediolani, 1547. 4to. 
 
 The family name of Majoragius was Antonio Maria Comes. A 
 criminal charge was made against him for having changed his name 
 into Marcus Antonius Majoragius. He defended himself in the above 
 oration before the Senate of Milan, and was, with singular magna- 
 nimity, acquitted. One of the criminal charges made against the 
 accomplished scholar Aonio Paleario (burnt for heresy in 1570) was, 
 that he changed his name Antonio for jionio. (Menagiana, Paris, 
 1729. i2mo, tome i. pp. 215, 2i6, 217, 218. Peignot, Die- 
 tionnaire Des Livres Condamnes au Feu. Paris, 1806. 8vo, tome 
 ii. p. 17.) A liberal and frequent use of the fagot appears to have 
 been very necessary in the sixteenth century, to restrain the dan- 
 gerous eccentricities of scholars, heretics and witches, within " the 
 pales and forts of reason." 
 
 II. PoNTUs De Tyard, De Recta Nominum Impositione, etc. Lug- 
 duni, 1603. 8vo. 
 
[ xiii ] 
 
 Gerard proceeded to Rome,' then famous as the 
 religious and literary metropolis of the world. Being 
 a skillful penman, he supported himself by copy- 
 ing' manuscripts, the labor of transcription not 
 
 III. JoH. Hen. Ottius, Onomatologia, uu de Nomimtus hominum 
 proprih. Tiguri, 1 671. 410. 
 
 IV. GiLLEs- Andre La RoccyjE, Traiti de Porigine dcs Noms et 
 des SurnomSf de leurs proprieteSt de leurs changementy tant che% Its 
 ancient peuples que ciez les Francois, let Eipagno/i, let Anglais, let 
 jil/emandt, let Polonais, etc. Paris, 168 1. I2mo. 
 
 V. Du Pont, Essai tur la maniire de traduire let Nomt prtpres en 
 Latin. Paris. 1710. izmo. 
 
 VI. EusEBE DE Salverte, Essai Historique el PUIoiophique sur les 
 Noms d' Hommes, etc. Paris, 1824. 2 vols. 8vo. 
 
 VII. LuGi CiBRARio, Deir Origine dei Cogntmi Itttere. Torino, 
 1827. 8vo. 
 
 VIII. F. Noel, Diet. Historique det Pertonnaget celebret de PAn- 
 tiquite, etc. avec Fetymiihgie et la valear de hurt Noms et Surnomt, 
 pricide d'un Essai sur les Nomt Propret ciez let peuplet ancient et 
 modernet. Paris, 1824. 8vo. 
 
 (•) Compendium Vita Eratmi. edit. Mervla. Lugd-Batav. 1607. 
 4to, pp. 9-10. 
 
 (') The reader will find much interesting information concern- 
 ing the ancient copyists, and the embellishment of manuscripts 
 before the invention of printing, in the following works : 
 
 I. Christian. Gottlieb. Schwarzii. De Ornamentis Lihrorvm et 
 Varia Rei Librariae Vetervm svpelleciile Dissertationvm Antiqvari' 
 
[ xiv ] 
 
 being yet superseded by the newly-invented art of 
 printing. He also attended the lectures of the 
 learned Guarinus," and acquired a fair knowledge 
 
 ariim Hexas. Primvm Collegit et Recensvit atjue Prefationc Indi- 
 tihvsqve Necessarih hstrvxit, Jo. Ch. Levschnervs. Lipsiae, 1756. 
 4ta. 
 
 II. H. Geraud, Essai sur Us Livres dans VAnliquit'e^ parttcuVure- 
 mem che% les Romains. Paris, 1840. 8vo. M. Geraud's Essai was 
 first published in Techener's Bulletin du BiblkphiU. Paris, 1839. 
 8vo, p. 631, et seq. 
 
 III. Ant. Fe. Delandine, Essai Historijue sur les Manuscritst 
 leur Matiere^ leur Anciennet'e^ leurs Ornaments^ et ceux qui sant par^ 
 ticulierement dignes d'etre remarqu'es dans les principals Bibliothiques 
 dc r Europe. Paris, 181 1. 2 vols. 8vo. 
 
 (®) Baptista Guarinus, was the son of Guarino, commonly known 
 by the surname " Veronese." He was one of the most celebrated 
 and profoundly learned professors of his time, Aldus Manutius, and 
 the wonderful Joannes Picus of Mirandula were his pupils. That 
 Aldus prized his instructions very highly is evident from the fact 
 that he afterwards dedicated to him his splendid edition of Theo- 
 critus, Hesiod, and other Greek poets, printed in 1495. In the 
 dedication addressed to Guarinus he terms him, " Praceptor doctissi- 
 musj* and confesses the great advantage he had, when a student, de- 
 rived from his instruction in the Greek and Latin languages. An 
 extravagantly eulogistic notice of Guarinus by Picus, may be read in 
 the Epistolarum of Picus, (Lib. i. Epist. xliiii. edit. Hieron. Scotum, 
 Venetiis 1557. folio, p. 68.) Guarinus was the first editor of the 
 well-known commentary of Servius upon Virgil, 
 
[ XV ] 
 
 of the Greek and Latin languages, which greatly 
 enhanced the value or his services as a transcriber 
 of classical works. Gerard's parents hearing that 
 he was in Rome, sent him word that his beloved 
 Margaret was dead. Overwhelmed with sorrow 
 he retired from the world and entered into Holy 
 Orders. He was presented by the Pope with a 
 prebend in his native country, and on his return to 
 Gouda, the cruel falsehood of his parents was at 
 once exposed. He found Margaret and her son 
 both living, and in perfect health. He remained, 
 however, strictly faithful to his religious vows, and 
 from that time until death, he and Margaret appear 
 to have lived with unblemished reputation. 
 
 At four years of age Erasmus was sent to the 
 school at Gouda kept by a certain Peter Winckel,' 
 
 yide JoH. Trithemius De Scriptaribus Ecclcsiasticis, edit. Jo. Alb. 
 Fabricius. Hamburg!. 1718. fol. pp. 217. 218. Bayle, Diet. Hist, 
 et Critique. Paris, 1820. 8vo, tome vii. p. 302, art. " Guarini." 
 TisABOSCHi, Storia Delia Letteratura Italiana. Firenze, 1809. 
 8vo, tomo vi. parte, iii. p. 978, et seq. GingueWe, Histoire Lilt'e- 
 raire D'ltalie, seconde editione. Paris, 1824. 8vo, tome iii. p. 
 286, « «y. Warton, History of English Poetry. London, 1840. 
 8vo, vol. ii. p. 554. Renouard, Annates De Vltnprimerie Des 
 >tf/</e, troisieme edition. Paris, 1834. 8vo, p. 376. 
 
 (') Horum praecipuus erat Petrus Winckel, tum ludi litterarij 
 
[ xvi J 
 
 who is said to have considered him a dunce. At 
 nine years old he was removed to the gymnasium at 
 Daventer, in Guelderland, then the most celebrated 
 school in Holland. He was accompanied by his 
 affectionate mother, seemingly an accomplished 
 woman, who, in addition to his ordinary studies, 
 procured him lessons in design and drawing. 
 
 The master of the school was Alexander He- 
 gius," a friend of the distinguished Greek scholar, 
 
 magister Gaudae. Compendivm Vita Erasmif etc. Edit. Mervla, 
 Lugd.-Batav. 1607. 4to. p. 10. 
 
 C^") A'exander Hegius was master of the school at Daventer for 
 more than thirty years. Erasmus ever spoke of him with the greatest 
 respect, {^hasmi Epistolarum. Lib. xxxi. edit. Londini. 1 642. Episf 
 16, pp. 1985-1986.) In his amusing Dialogue, entitled Cicero- 
 nianus, he alludes to him in the fallowing terms ; Westphalia, nobis 
 dedit Alexandrum HIcgium, virum eruditum, sanctum et facundum 
 nominas, sed qui glorise contemptu nihil magni molitus sit. [Cicero- 
 nianvi, Basii,£;£, 1519. 8vo, pp. 388, 389.) An interesting notice 
 of Hegius and Rudolph Agricola will be found under the proverb, 
 ^id cam & halneo. (Exasmi Adagia, edit. Robert! Stephani, i, /. 
 1558, folio.) For a sic'etch of the life of Hegius, see Val. And* 
 DissELiDs, B'lbliotheca Belgica, Lovanii, 1643. 4to. pp. 41, 41. 
 Jean LEVES<yjE de Burigny, Histoire de la Vie et del Ouvrage' 
 d'Erasme. Paris, 1757. Iimo, tome i. p. 16. Ev. Wassen- 
 bergh's Oral. De Daventria Eruditionii in Belgio matre. (Daven- 
 ter) 1768, 4to. J. G. EiCHORN, Geschichte der Litleratur. Gottin- 
 
[ xvii ] 
 
 Rudolph Agricola," the most eminent, perhaps, 
 of that noble band of scholars who brought Greek 
 learning over the Alps. 
 
 gen, 1S07. 8vo, Vierter Band. p. 883. Dr. David F. Strauss, 
 Ulrich von Hutten. Leipzig, 1858. 8vo, Enter Theil, p. 42. B. 
 Glasius, Biographisch ffoordettboek van Nederlandische Gedge/eerden. 
 Hertogenbosch, 1853. 8vo, vol. ii. pp. 42,-43. 
 
 (") Rudolph Agricola, one of the most learned men of the fifteenth 
 century, was born at Baffle (Latinized Bafflo), a village near Oronin- 
 gen, in Friesland, in the year 1442. When a youth he studied 
 under the world-renowned Thomas a Kempis, in the gymnasium of 
 ZwoU. He died at Heidelberg, on the 28th of October, the birth- 
 day of Erasmus, 1485. All his works, with the exception of a few 
 of little importance, were collected by Alardus ^mstelredamus, 
 and published under the following title : Rudolphi Agricola Phrisii 
 Lucubrationes aliquot lectu dignissima in hanc usque diem nusquam prius 
 idita, cateraque ejusdem viri plane divini omnia qua exstare credun- 
 tur opuscula, etc, etc., nunc demum ad autographorum exemplarium 
 fdempf Alaksum ^mstelredamum emendala, (Sc, Colokim, apud 
 Johannem Gymnicum (1539, 2 vols. 4to.) An ample account of his 
 life and worlcs may be found in Tobias Magirus Eponymologium 
 Criticum, cura Eybenius, Francof. 1687. 4to, pp. 23, 24. Vossius, 
 De Historicis Latinis. Lugd.-Batav.1651. 4to, p. 566. Val. And. 
 Vessilivs, Bikliotieca Belgica. Lovanii, 1643, p. 798. Bayli, Diet. 
 Historique et Critique. Paris, 1820. 8vo, tome i. p. 281 to 287. 
 Blount, Censura Celebriorum Authorum, Lond. 1690. fol. p. 337. 
 Ant. Teissier, Les Eloges des Hommes Savani, etc. Leyde, 1715. 
 limo, tomei.p. 220. HiCiKon, Memoirs des Hommes Illustret. Paris, 
 
[ xviii ] 
 
 Here Adrianus Florentius, afterwards Pope 
 Adrian VI.," was his school-fellow, and continued 
 
 1733. i2mo, tome xxiii. p. 180 to 191. A. H. L. Heeren, Ges- 
 ehichte der Classischen Litteratur im Mittelalter. Gottingen, 1822. 
 8vo, vol. ii. p. 170, et tcj. Franck, Dictioitnaire des Sciences Pkih- 
 iofhiquts. Paris, 1844. 8vo, tome i. p. 31. T. P. .Tresling, 
 Vita et Merita Rttd, jlgruola, Groningen, 1830. 8vo. B. Glasius, 
 Biographisch ^oordenboek van Nederlandsche GodgeUerden, Her- 
 togenbosch, 1851. 8vo, vol. i. p. 15, Bernhardy, Grundriss der 
 Rimischen Litteratur, Braunschweig, 8vo, 1862, p. 122. 
 
 (}^) Adrianus Florentius Boyens, retained his baptismal name of 
 Adrian, on being raised to the papacy afler the death of Leo X., in 
 1 52 1. He was born of humble parents, at Utrecht, in the year 
 1459. JVlr, Kenelm Henry Digby, an author who has apparently read 
 nearly every book published since the invention of printing, relates an 
 anecdote of Adrian, which is worth quoting, as showing his studious 
 habits in youth. " Marguerite, widow of Charles the Bold, when 
 governing the Netherlands, is said to have remarked one winter's 
 night as she traversed the city of Louvain, a light from one of the 
 windows of the University at the dead hour ; and asking who could 
 watch so late in such severe cold, was told by her chamberlain that 
 it was Floritz, or little Florent, over his books. The next day 
 Adrian, of Utrecht — for this lad studying at midnight was the future 
 Pope — received from an unknown hand three hundred Horins, to 
 purchase books and wood for his fire." ( [Kenelm Henry Digby] 
 Compitutn, second edition, London, 1851. i2mo. Book i. Chap. n.. 
 p. 328.) Bayle states, on the authority of Gabriel Naude, that 
 Adrian in his youth, used " to go at night and read by the lamps 
 lighted in the churches, or by those lighted at the corners of the 
 
Erasmus. 517 
 
 Art. 1\. — JUrasmua. 
 
 Urasmi (Desid. Boterdami). 11 Vols. Fol. Lnto Bart. 1708. y- ., 
 
 lAfe of Erasmus. By John Josten, D.D. 1808. JorCiri. 
 
 Lift of ErasMua. By CHASLia Uviissr, of Lincoln's Inn. 1825. 
 
 IF one may judge from the portraits of Luther and Erasmus, 
 the painter of the sixteenth century handled his brush well. 
 They must have been good likenesses, both of them. Nature 
 would seem to have given to each of these men the countenance 
 and conformation suited to his character. The portrait of the 
 Grerman Reformer comes fully up to our expectation ; though 
 we may have newly risen from the narrative of his appearance 
 at the Diet of Worms. These are, without doubt, the eyes that 
 looked heavenward, as he said, " So help me God, Amen ;" 
 these lips, expressing a sublime determination, are as unques- 
 tionably the lips that uttered the words ; and there is no mistak- 
 ing the bull-neck and brawny bust of this terrible adversary of 
 Rome. Turning to Erasmus — what a contrast ! He peers out 
 of his furred garments with an air of crouching timidity. His 
 head seems to apologise for being found upon his shoulders. 
 We look again ; and, observing the remarkably broad under-jaw, 
 begin to perceive that this, after all, was one who could obsti- 
 nately hold on his own course. A third glance ; and ye suspect 
 that here is a man, who is quizzing us, and disposed to satirize 
 the rest of mankind. If Luther reminds us of the lion, the other 
 bears a resemblance in his portrait to the fox; and, indeed, 
 Erasmus resembles Reynard, not only as, eschewing larger 
 prey,- he contents himself with disturbing the roost, but as he 
 is without doubt the wiliest, and withal the most sportive, 
 denj^n of the forest. 
 
 Wi dei;i'us Era,smu" T|-i^| Hi niltfhmftn • but, spending, as he did, 
 'the larp'erporti on of hi^ Yfp JU ^"Bln'^ ""UTlt''iP° h" V'»'-'-"w^ri his 
 qualities less than a ny other of his , c9^f^rjig en from what he 
 Vather irreverently teS^ *13eer-and-Butter^and," He shews 
 more liveliness of genius than Hollanders have generally dis- 
 played. On the other hand, he had their entei-prise and plod- 
 ding industry. His tastes were essentially literary. Devoted 
 entirely to learning, he never throughout life would undertake 
 any office, secular or sacred, the duties of which would draw 
 him away from the desk. Here he differed from Reuchlin and 
 Budaeus, his cotemporaries, both of whom mingled with the 
 active duties of life. By this course, too, he involved himself 
 in life-long pecuniary embarrassments, — the inevitable fate 
 of any man who seeks to win immortality , and make his bread 
 by the same means. His letters contain many an application 
 
518 \ Erasmus. 
 
 to friends for money ,Vpiiveyed in such elegantly turned sen- 
 tences, as onlv_Ui«vljtete,ry beggar can employ. He applied 
 himself, in th^ttfejniistance, with great ardour, to the study of 
 the languages. The range of his accomplishments in this de- 
 partment was certainly not very comprehensive, being con- 
 fined to Greek and Latin. In the other languages he was 
 deficient, and is reported to have shewn a remarkable inapti- 
 • tude. He' made no progress in Hebrew ; and then, though he 
 resided again and again in France, England, and Italy, he 
 never acquired the languages of any of these countries. Of 
 course his acquaintance with Latin enabled him to converse 
 with the society, chiefly literary, in which he moved when 
 abroad, but versatility cannot have been one of the qualities of 
 his genius. Meanwhile the want of it was abundantly com- 
 pensated by a capacity for the profoundest acquirements in 
 classical literature. His " Adages," consisting of many thou- 
 sand proverbs, selected from ancient authors, with hints for 
 discovering their origin and meaning, was a work of prodi- 
 gious research, culled as they were from no fewer than a hun- 
 dred works, Greek and Latin. His " Apothegms," or collection 
 of remarkable sayings of the great and wise of antiquity, can- 
 not be considered so learned a production as the other, includ- 
 ing, as it does, Plutarch's selection, although with considerable 
 additions. Both works are characteristic of his mental leanings. 
 His wit relished the quaintness of the adage ; and his soul 
 responded, perhaps, too enthusiastically, all along to the moral 
 utterances of the heathen. Having found his way, singularly 
 into this inexhaustible storehouse of Attic sentences, he was 
 unconsciously arming himself for his light warfare with the 
 Monks ; and could never, henceforth, want a feather for any 
 arrow he might shoot at that unfortunate fraternity. These 
 works established his reputation as the man of learning. His 
 Latinity is excellent, after its own kind. It is not Latin " 
 after all. Like that of his cotemporaries, it is just Latin vo- 
 cables (and many vocables unknown to ancient Rome), thrown 
 into the shape suggested by his own mind, a species of elegant 
 mongrel. Could anything be more preposterous than the fashion 
 then prevalent among men of genius giving forth their pro- 
 ductions in a dead language ! It was not only that they threw 
 their own language an age behind in the progress of civilisa- 
 tion ; but the inspirations of their own minds were thus 
 " cabined, cribbed, confined." No man can write in a language 
 he has acquired from books, though he may have studied them 
 day and night for a century, as he can write in his own mother 
 tongue. Our own language becomes so riven with thought, 
 that it is thought-born, not made ; it came in by the doors of 
 the senses, and took possession of us without consciousness ; it 
 
Ilis Playful Humour. 510 
 
 is assimilated with the system, and, for the very reason we now 
 think of it, it is thought. 
 
 \V'iewed as an original writer, Erasmus takes his place among 
 those who have been eminent for combining pleasure with in- 
 struction. He is emphatically a popular writer ; delights us 
 with illustrations and anecdotes. His style is not so much a 
 composition, as the talk of a garrulous, eloquent old man,r-^-T 
 
 " A current that with gentle murmur glides, 
 And makes sweet music with enamelled stones, 
 Giving a gentle kiss to every sedge 
 He overtaketh in his pilgrimage ; 
 And so, by many a winding nook, he strays 
 With willing sport, to the wild ocean." 
 
 But, really, it cannot be added, 
 
 " Thou know'st, being stopped, impatiently doth rage ; " 
 
 for he never, by any chance, reminds us of the cataract — some- 
 times tedious — always level — level as his own Deutschland. ,' 
 Of a tranquil, deliberate temper of mind, he certainly shews 
 comprehensiveness of views ; his defect being a kind of intellec- 
 tual scepticism. On this account, and not merely for liveliness' 
 sake, would he appear to have delighted in dialogue ; for in 
 the man himself there always seemed to be two minds main- 
 taining an argument, and no third to play the arbiter. The 
 absence of dogmatism pleases. He will always be a favourite 
 with the public. 
 
 (The playfulness of Erasmus is delightful ; if one thinks of the 
 times he lived in, inexplicable, perhaps condemnable. Luther 
 could not understand it. " \n 3 '.i gggg J K^j '^^-'^ ^^^^ ^^' ^^-fes 
 plays the fool." He shewed in this respect a certain anomaly 
 of character. In moral courage he was so deficient, as to be 
 quite unfit to contend with the formidable dangers of the Re- 
 formation conflict ; and yet, to read his writings, none would 
 suppose them to have been written in a period of surrounding 
 danger and excitement, but rather to be the efifusions of a man 
 sitting comfortably, in his easy chair, smoking his pipe. Even 
 when he addresses the pope applying to be absolved from his 
 monastic vow, the letter (still extant, and one of the most im- 
 portant in the whole of his correspondence), is written with all 
 the sportiveness and detailed description, that might be in- 
 dulged in by the writer of a fictitious narrative. He must 
 describe the varied adventures and misfortunes he went through, 
 by having to wear the sacred vestments of his order after leav- 
 ing the monastery J 
 
 " It so happened, afterwards, that I had to go for the prosecntion of 
 my studies to distant parts. There, after the French fashion, I 
 thought it necessary to don a small linen toga over my vest. For 
 this I twice ran imminent risk of my life. In that coun^ the doctors, 
 
 J 
 
520 Erasmus. 
 
 ■who attend cases of the plague, wear a white' linen garment on their 
 left shoulder, which hangs before and behind them, that all may 
 know them, and be upon their guard ; indeed, they are assailed with 
 stones if they walk in the thoroughfares. Well, I had gone on a visit 
 to a learned friend, when two horse-guards, or blackguards, rushed 
 upon me with drawn swords, and a murderous shout ; and would 
 have made an end of me, but for a good woman who was passing, and 
 convinced them I was an ecclesiastic, and not a doctor. Another day, 
 paying a visit to a fellow-countryman, a sudden onslaught was made 
 upon me with clubs and stones, and the cry raised, ' Down with the 
 dog ! slay him outright ! ' Upon this a young man came forward, 
 ' Take my word for it,'"said he, ' if you don't discard that Unen toga, 
 you will be stoned alive one of these days. I have warned you ; so 
 take good care.' Unwilling to lay the article aside altogether, I 
 concealed it under my coat. Good heavens ! what a tragedy ! and 
 all about nothing. The fact is that I might have dispensed with the 
 vestment at once ; but being anxious to fulfil all righteousness, I 
 made application to Kome for liberty to wear the sign of the order on 
 any part of my body I might see fit. Accordingly, on my return from 
 these quarters to my patron Mends — gentlemen of rank, and highly 
 accomplished — I adopted the French style, that of the secular priest, 
 all at least except a small linen appendage. I acted upon the best 
 advioe.in this. But, no sooner had I made my ap|)earanc6 in public, 
 than my best friends told me that such a dress would never be toler- 
 ated. You may say, why did I not at once adopt the dress, out and 
 out, of the fraternity ? That, however, would have been no joke ; 
 with one hand you have to hold up the flowing tail of a train, and 
 with the other to balance a hood of manifold and portentpiis magnitude. 
 Besides, I had to travel from one country to another on business, and 
 one looks such an odd fish in that dress. The whole affair ended in 
 my friends advising me to get a dispensation from the pope for throw- 
 ing ofi' the vestments altogether." 
 
 pis powers of satirical description were unmeasured/ Speci- 
 mens of his skill will be given our readers, ere this article be 
 bropght to J a close, and after more serious matter has been 
 
 vdmjussed. \Broad humour alternates with sly inuendo.) Any 
 ttcture be shews is always given in extenso, the details so 
 linutely filled in, that one scarcely knows whether more to 
 
 'wonder at bis patience, or to admire the effect produced in 
 verisimilitude and life. Many things contributed to make 
 him a master in this department. His retentive memory en- 
 
 \abled him to avail himself of the vast stores of classic wealth 
 ihe Jiad amassed. Having travelled extensively, he had other 
 means of acquainting himself with human nature, than by 
 books. He had the good fortune jto associate with the most 
 accomplished scholars of the dayT^Un the encounter of wit, at 
 the tables of the learned, he was serdoni~^wo3:|t'ed ; and, on one 
 occasion, when he had crossed swords unconsciously with the 
 greatest wit of the age (neither of the parties knowing the 
 
His ReligiouH Character. 521 
 
 other), each is said to have instinctively discovered his opponent 
 from the skill of fence he was subkcted to) Most of our 
 readers may have heard the story. (When in England he is 
 reported to have met with Sir ThomaS More for the first time 
 at the Lord Mayor's table. During dinner they fell into ^ 
 argunaent, in which Erasmus would seem to have undertaker^ 
 the least reputable side ; and, finding himself more than usually - 
 hard pressed by his adversary, he exclaimed, " Either More, or 
 heaven knows whom ?" to which Sir Thomas replied, " Either 
 Erasmus, or the devil ! '' | 
 
 Hitherto our remarks 'have been limited to the place which 
 Erasmus held intellectually ; and if his labours in publishing 
 editions of the Fathers,»and of the classics, be considered, we 
 must acknowledge that ^e union of so much learning with the 
 lighter accomplishment of wit, qualified him to exert a formid- 
 able influence upon the times in which he lived. It was these 
 two things together — so rarely united — extensive erudition, 
 and unrivalled gifts as a popular writer, that conspired to make 
 bim so conspicuous a man, and so desirable an accession for 
 either of the two parties that came into conflict at the Re- 
 formation.) 
 
 No sooner do we proceed, next, to contemplate his religious 
 character, and the place he occupied, or rather his refusal to 
 occupy any place, in the great religious contest of his day, than 
 he becomes a puzzle : 
 
 '" Harder to hit 
 (Which way so ever men refer it), 
 Much like thy riddle, Samson, in one day 
 Or seven, though one should musing sit." 
 
 k At the period of his career which preceded the public appear- 
 ^ance of Luther, he is seen going so far ahead of his contem- 
 poraries, and doing such considerable service to the cause of 
 evangelical religion, that jj.e feel disposed to hail him as the 
 pioneer of the new era-t When the Reformation | «;;p pies. and 
 Srhen, instead of advancing wiln its"Ti9§^eremams staltionary;,, 
 we are staggered. That he should resist so much light seems 
 to us Jk irreconcileabl^with a right state of the religious sense, 
 as his rising above so much darkness seemed formerly con- 
 clusive in his favour. It is not easy to solve this mystery. 
 Let us, however, make the attempt. 
 
 We have no record of any religious impressions or convic- 
 tions undergone by him at the earlier period of his life. He 
 had scarcely left school, a boy of bright promise, having Te- 
 rence and Horace by heart, so it is reported, than he was 
 launched an orphan, upon the world. He has himself left us a, 
 long and touching narrative of the persecution he and his little 
 
 VOL. XVI. — NO. LXI. L 1 
 
522 Erasmus. 
 
 elder brother endured from the rapacity of their guardians, 
 who, in order to possess themselves of their means, resolved to 
 thrust them into a monastery. If any man on earth was likely 
 to conceive a violent antiDat) ;i Y ,4 ff i t to.. x ] f ^(jnastic j sj^^ji|yijj it 
 was Erasmiis, whose lather's heart had been broEen Idj alamily 
 tragedy connected with it, and who was now himself caged in 
 the gloomy cloister. His brother escaped to live and die a pro- 
 fligate. He himself, after repeated and vain attempts to obtain 
 deliverance, was forced to reconcile himself to his fate. A light 
 might be seen at midnight streaming from one of the windows 
 of the convent. Had we been admitted into the chamber, we 
 would have seen little Erasmus sitting with a young companion, 
 whom he had undertaken to teach the classics, conning the 
 pages of his belovfed Terence. " I had already found out," 
 says he, " that the monk's life agreed neither with my inclina- 
 tion nor my constitution. My heart lay wholly in my studies. 
 These were of no use there, and met with no encouragement. 
 In other respects, I had no aversion to religion, but I disliked 
 the chantings and the ceremonies in which the life of the 
 monks was almost entirely spent." When, at the age of twenty- 
 three, he at last got out of the cloister and was taken into 
 the family of the Archbishop of Cambray, all we can say of 
 him from evidence is that he had o^ ,a|irijgd— abiiidaaa^yiiftof 
 of his inaptitude for the monk's^lite : in mind, for he had far 
 too big a head for the monk's cowl ; in stomach, for he abhorred 
 herring ; also that he had contracted a dislike for ceremonies, 
 from no other reason, perhaps, as yet, than the intolerable re- 
 straint they imposed upoti a lively disposition ; and that his love 
 for literature had only been confirmed — while, as to religion, 
 his own pen testifies that " he had no aversion to it " — which 
 is not saying much. 
 
 We eixpect that, being now feft to the freedom of his own 
 will, he will abandon himself wholly to literature ; and steer as 
 wide of ecclesiastical occupation as possible. In the first part 
 of our conjecture we are not far wrong. But he took priest's 
 orders. Probafcly he considered that]his monastic vow pledged 
 him to pursue a t'li'SfiJasisL^S^- ^ore probably he judged 
 that he might obtam^SSS^some snug sinecure, some re- 
 serve of a benefi'ce, with this as his best intention to live for 
 the advancement of learning. The next phase of experience 
 he passed through, well deserves our notice. He forms a re- 
 solution not to study divinity, having a secret conviction that 
 he would turn out a heretic. " I abstained," he says in the 
 abridgment of his own life, " from the study of theology, be- 
 cause I had ^ presenti ment that I might overturn the founda- 
 tions laid 1^ others, and lSn3"myseiri!n heresy." This was 
 about the thirty-third year of his life, anno l^CfO. 
 
The EncJiiridion. 523 
 
 But let lis do him justice. A year or two afterwards he 
 writes to John Colet, Dean of St Paul, that his mind was 
 entirely set upon religious studies ; that he intended to devote 
 the rest of his life to them ; and that he had been three years 
 applying himself closely to the Greek language. This looks 
 well. There has been a struggle ; and conscience has gained 
 the victory over constitutional timidity. From this time forth 
 it must be acknowledged that his mind directed itself with 
 great ardour to theology. No doubt he devoted himself still 
 enthusiastically to literature ; but a charitable judgment must 
 admit that theology shared, henceforth, an amount of attention 
 which speaks well for the state of his heart. We may be re- 
 minded that he still abstained from taking any active part or 
 office in the church. If he really had the interests of religion 
 at heart, why, it may be said, did he not ascend the pulpit and 
 preach the truth according to the measure of new light he had 
 received ? Without justifying the timidity of the man, without 
 pressing some obvious considerations which, in his present state 
 of mind, must have rendered it undesirable for him to involve 
 himself practically with the offices of a church, given up to 
 ceremonies which he already questioned, we,jBay. dPWJlt. very 
 much w hether Erasmus was qualified to be. ja. speak er. Feeble 
 in body/he possessed" the smallest possible amount of animal 
 spirits. 
 
 The pen was his instrument of service. The EnchieiBION, 
 or Soldier's Manual, his first production, furnishes satisfactory 
 evidence, we think, of the earnest desire to do good which now 
 animated him. A practical treatise, it evinces a certain warmth 
 of religious interest. Loyola pronounced it wanting in spiritu- 
 ality ; but it contained counsels much more valuable than the 
 fanatical founder of the Society of Jesus could have imparted. 
 It was a seasonable, and, for the times, a bold testimony lifted / 
 up against prevailing superstitions and errors. The worship'^ 
 of the Virgin, the invocation of saints, the various idle cere— - 
 monies practised, were not condemned as in themselves sinful ; 
 but the fallacy of trusting in them to the neglect of moral" 
 duties is strongly enforced. The righteousness of the moral^ 
 law is raised above ceremony ; and the ridiculous reliance on;;::; 
 ritualism declared to be the scandal of an age fallen back to 
 Judaism. The word of God is appealed to throughout, andT^ 
 not the fathers. To write such a work did not require the 
 boldness of the German Reformer ; but it made a tolerable 
 demand upon the nerves of the Dutch priest. The doctrinal) 
 sentiments of the Manual are semi-Pelagian. We shall havel 
 occasion afterwards to speak upon that point. "^ 
 
 The "Enchiridion" was calculated, although it did not 
 produce the effect so very immediately, to expose its author to 
 
Erasmus, 
 
 ><^the persecution of influential parties in the Church of Rome ; 
 
 and, if we remember the high place he held in the literary world, 
 
 we are surely bound to judge that here he made a sacrifice to 
 
 conscience and truth. 
 
 /^ At a somewhat later period, he seems to become conscious 
 
 / of the effective service which ridicule and the powers of satirical 
 
 j composition he possessed might render in exposing the errors 
 
 ,'^ /'\ and foibles of the age; and his "PRAISE OF Folly" issued 
 
 '-' \ from the press. 
 
 V^This tractate begins in avery light, airy, and somewhat puerile 
 strain. He undertakes to prove that Folly governs the world, 
 and is all in all : — 
 
 " Life itself is the main thing," says the witty author, starting con- 
 fidently in his demonstration ; " well, I beg just to ask of you, 
 whether there would be one single child born into the world, if man 
 did not- begin to thrdw aside his gravity — aye, even he whose beard, the 
 badge of wisdom, is as rough as a he-goat ? Would he ever enter 
 into the noose of matrimony, if he began to make sage calculations, 
 and to forecast all the troubles that may supervene ? And thus, from 
 an act of folly, it is plain as noon-day, spring all your proud philo- 
 sophers, your boasted statesmen, and your pious friars, and your holy 
 pontiffs." 
 
 Having stunned us by such an unexpected commencement, 
 he never suffers us to recover ourselves, but plies us with an 
 ,'ccumulation of facts, equally conclusive, and equally absurd. 
 'Ut, when be has thus secured the good humour of his readers, 
 it. soon becomes apparent at the close that all this has been 
 a preparation for an overwhelming tide of raillery which 
 is :&ade to pass over the scholastic theologians, the monks, the 
 bishops, and the pope. The following are brave words — re- 
 markably brave for the times : — 
 
 " They (the monks) look upon it as the perfection of piety to be 
 unable to read ; and, dear honest souls, consider that voluntary 
 poverty, and filth, and ignorance, and rusticity, and impudence, entitle 
 them to the dignity of apostles. How many knots may be on the shoe ; 
 the distinguishing colour of the coat ; the breadth of their girdle, and 
 the stuff it is made of; how many bushels their monstrous hoods 
 may be capable of holding, and how many hours' sleep they may 
 take — are with them questions of serious concern. It is not how to 
 be like Christ, but how to be most unlike one another ; Benedic- 
 tines, Bemardines, Bridgidensians, Augustines — anything, in short, 
 but Christians, which is the title none of them affect. One appears with- 
 a paunch like an alderman's, another drones through a flood of 
 psalmody ; a third reckons up a thousand fasts, and as often eats an 
 enormous dinner. Another hag never touched money for sirty years 
 without gloves on his hands ; as to the bishops, cardinals, and pontiffs, 
 they surround themselves with worldly magnificence. The hard work 
 
His Relative Position to Reuchlin, 525 
 
 is left for Peter and Paul to do, who are supposed to have leisure 
 enough. They undertake the display and the recreation, and make 
 up for what is wanting of the bishop by splendour of dress and holi- 
 nels of title, and a host of benedictions and maledictions. Mean- 
 while, the anathemas of these Right Reverend Fathers in Christ fall 
 for the most part on those who have ventured, at the devil's instigation, 
 to diminish the patrimony of Peter ; and, when they have shewn their 
 zeal this way, in shedding the blood of good Christians, they claim to 
 be canonised as the defenders of the Faith." 
 
 lln 1516, Erasmus gave the Greek Testament to Germany. 
 This was an essential service done to the cause of Christ, fol- 
 iowing up that of Reuchlin, who had published his edition of 
 the Hebrew Bible. The lively oracles of God were thus, so 
 far as the learned world was concerned, rescued from dishonour 
 and obscurity, and the first step taken for the destruction of the 
 papacy. His Paraphrase of the Greek Testament, with all its 
 faults, was another contribution to the same cause ; esteemed so 
 valuable that it was translated into English, and orders issued 
 that, together with the Bible, there should be one copy of it in 
 every parish church in England/ This, however, was so late as 
 1547; and, we advert to it only by the way. At present we 
 wish \to estimate the value of the services which Erasmus 
 reiuiered before Luther published his Theses in 1517./ 
 
 When Reuchlin restored the Bible to the church, and estab- 
 'lished the great principle of free inquiry, the faggots straight 
 and crooked were thrown upon the ground. Erasinus did not 
 cast the crooked into the fire, certainly, but he broiight the 
 ^wo together, so that the incongruity between them became 
 palpably apparent. ^^Without seeking to aboljsh any of the 
 institutions, or authorised practices of the Church of Rome, he 
 denounced the flagrant abuses that had^ come in by them ; let 
 these abuses be reformed, and there ^ight be a reconciliation 
 after all effected between the word of God, and the Church of 
 Rome. This was the attempt- made by Erasmus na hopeless 
 one indeed, but it was an attempt natural in the circum- 
 stances. In all difficult cases coming before us, there is first 
 an indecision of the intellect before there is the resolute 
 and final determination of the will; and such a process 
 took place in the understanding of Europe, when newly 
 enlightened in the sixteenth century. It found its fittiiig 
 representative in the cautious and timid divine of Rotterdam. 
 Man is frail ; he feels forward before he moves ; and the feeble, 
 apprehensive thoughts of Erasmus, were the antenncB of the 
 human mind approaching the Reformation. 
 
 But the singularity of the man lies here, that, having occu- 
 pied not the most desirable office, for us all at the period, (if 
 it can be called an office to go through the hesitating process 
 
526 Erasmus. 
 
 that precedes determination), he refused ever afterwards to 
 budge from that position. When the full blaze of the pre- 
 destined day had set in, and a whole phalanx of Reformers, 
 baptised as with a new spirit, had unveiled the deformity of 
 antichrist, and introduced the whole truth and order of the primi- 
 tive church, it was to have been expected that he would have 
 blessed God for the more than accomplishment of his wishes, 
 and been disposed to claim the results, perhaps, as the glorious 
 consummation of his feeble efforts — the fruit shaking like 
 Lebanon of his handful of corn upon the top of the moun- 
 tains. But no such thing. The egg was hatched by Luther, 
 but he disowned the progeny. " Mine," said he, " was a hen's' 
 egg. Luther's is a very different bird." Would he take the 
 side, then, of the pope and the rulers of the world against 
 the Reformers ? No, not he ; he would do no such thing. 
 Many a flattering invitation did he receive to go to Rome, and 
 take up his residence there. Honours were held out to him if 
 he would resort to the courts of Roman Catholic princes. All 
 this he refused. He was offered a cardinal's hat, or it was 
 talked of for him. "This were, indeed," was his reply, "to 
 dress a cat in a goWn and petticoats, according to the old pro- 
 verb." He would take no side. He would not advance.; he 
 would not retrograde. And thus, when a new movement had 
 commenced, which resembled, at that period of the church, 
 such as the invention of steam has now introduced upon the 
 rail, this old-fashioned leader might be seen .persisting to drive 
 his own coach and four, with its few inside passengers, who 
 ■looked for Refonnation by learning, wrapped up in frieze with 
 furs, sitting upon the box — the most obstinate man in his 
 indecision that ever lived ! 
 
 - What shall we think of him ? We are not by any means 
 disposed to justify his strange conduct, his moral cowardice, bis 
 provokingly easy conscience; his unfinn„J»ra5*W'TroKftti:g his 
 opinions ; his cold pulse ; his mode of dealing with the light ; his 
 mode of dealing with the darkness ; his excessive jesting in a 
 serious age ; his drang of the thing he laughed at ; and certain 
 words, perhaps too frankly spoken, but not sounding well, ex- 
 pressing an apparent preference of learning to religion, and of 
 his own life to a good conscience. These are things about 
 Erasmus which we are not disposed to justify ; nor shall we take 
 up the microscope of casuistry, to find out whether, under any 
 conditions, these may be " the spots of God's children." But, on 
 the other hand, after a careful study of the writings of Erasmus, 
 and narrowly looking into his life, we cannot sympathize with 
 the unsparing and unmeasured condemnation which some of 
 the most distinguished reformers passed upon him — compre- 
 hending charges against him which, we hesitate not to say, 
 
Harshly Judged by the Reformers. 527 
 
 they could not satisfactorily establish. Farel oompared him to 
 Balaam, who was hired by the king of Moab to curse the chil- 
 dren of Israel ; an insinuation which will carry with it its own 
 refutation to all who are acquainted with his character, of 
 which the love of money was certainly no part. He had very 
 little of it at any period of his life ; and, when be had it, with 
 him it was first books and then clothes. 
 
 The judgment which Luther formed of him, before he had 
 been irritated by rumours of his intending td write against 
 the Reformation, and, subsequently, by the controversial 
 collision that took place, was intuitively just. Nothing can 
 be nobler than the well-known letter he wrote him ; the pur- 
 port of which was, that, " as he had not the requisite courage, 
 it was safer for him to serve the Lord in his own way, and to 
 take no part in a controversy which had long since gone beyond 
 his talents." This was unceremonious, no doubt, but it was 
 the truth. But what shall we say of ^iS subsequent treatment 
 of Erasmus 1 What shall we say o^ his parting letter to him 
 in the controversy, and which was given to the public, in which 
 he asserts him " to be one who from the beginning insidiously 
 attempted to overthrow the whole Christian religion V What 
 shall we say to such expressions as the following, recorded in 
 his Table Talk ? " I hold Erasmus of Rotterdam as Christ'? 
 most bitter enemy. He is an enemy to the true religion ; a 
 complete picture and image of Epicurus and of Lucien." 
 
 This prejudice has been taken up, at second hand, by many 
 in our own day, who are innocent of all knowledge of the works 
 of Erasmus, and form their opinion of him solely from the 
 double part he is generally said to have playpd at the time of 
 the Reformation. 
 
 We are not prepared to indorse these sentiments, nor any- 
 thing like them. An idea has prevailed, too, that it was a 
 proof of very great cunning on his part to single out as the 
 subject of his championship, when he did come forward, the 
 abstract point, " JDe fjibero Arhitrio," — as if he would thus 
 satisfy the Church of Rome in some measure, at least, by 
 making an appearance on her side, while he would not greatly 
 displease the reformers, by raising what was in fact an obso- 
 lete controversy. So far is this conjecture from the truth, that 
 his selection of this topic is, to our mind, the jnost striking 
 proof of his sincerity in not allying himself with the Protestant 
 Church. For the fact is, that he did not, and never did, agree 
 with them in doctrine. He was all isilong a Semi-Pelagian. Al- 
 " though be acknowledged the necessity, in a sense, both of the 
 grace of the Spirit, and of the merits of Christ, he never seems 
 clearly to have understood the doctrines of justification and 
 ■regeneration, — the great mysteries, in short, of the Gospel. 
 
528 Erasmus. 
 
 There was a something, therefore, interposed between him and 
 the reformers which he never could himself perfectly compre- 
 hend, — a difference, the existence of which sometimes he was 
 disposed to deny, and anon seemed to feel it, and to be irri- 
 tated by the feeling of it, — the very veil between the holy and 
 the most holy, — thin, impalpable, and yet obstructive. " Luther 
 affirms," he writes to Zningle, " that little weight should be at- 
 tached to my judgment in things which belong to the Spirit. 
 He says, too, that, like Moses, I have led the Israelites out of 
 Egypt, but only to die in the wilderness. All that I shall say 
 is, that I wish he may be the Joshua who is to lead them into 
 the promised land." It is affecting to see, that, returning 
 in the close of the letter to these insinuations, it is the 
 first of them, and not the last and more personal, that hurts 
 him. '' Luther has written to CEcolampadius, that little weight 
 is to be attached to my judgment in things which belong to 
 the Spirit. As you, Zuingle, are a man of learning, I am 
 anxious that you will tell me what are the things of the Spirit 
 he refers to 1 So far as I can see, there is not much difference 
 between Luther and myself in doctrine. There is his violence, 
 and there are his paradoxes and enigmas ; these I do not pro- 
 fess to imitate. Good may come out of them in the issue, 
 but I prefer what is good and advantageous for the present 
 moment.'" 
 
 We can surely find a more charitable explanation of the 
 neutrality of Erasmus, than an Epicurean indifference, or a 
 profane and wilful opposition to the light of his own conscience 
 from love to the world, or fear of its persecution. The question 
 is, whether, temptations of the latter kind apart, he would have 
 attached himself to the Protestant Church ? We humbly think 
 he would not. While he held the doctrinal sentiments already 
 referred to, his own beau ideal of a church, often expressed in 
 his writings, was, that the confession of its faith should be con- 
 fined to the vital articles of rehgion, studiously expressed so 
 generally, as to leave all controversial points untouched, and 
 matters of toleration ; as to what he might have desired in 
 reference to the government and worship of the church we can- 
 not say, but he was willing to submit meanwhile, if not for 
 conscience' sake, for peace' sake, to the authorities of the church. 
 It is possible, therefore, to define even Erasmus : — He was a 
 semi-Pelagian, a latitudinarian, and an advocate of passive 
 obedience to the Church. 
 
 But it is time to institute a more thorough inquiry into the 
 real tenets of Erasmus, or rather, to give the result of our in- 
 quiries ; for into the arcanaof the theological controversy in which 
 •he got himself involved, we can hardly expect our readers to 
 follow us. With regard to the duel between him and Luther 
 
Conflid; between Erasmus and Luther. 529 
 
 on the " Freedom of the Will/' never, perhaps, did two comba- 
 tants meet on the field more unequally matched. The one 
 ■was the most timid of men, and had all along felt and expressed 
 his inability to meet such a doughty antagonist. Master of a 
 light and graceful style, he was able to entertain the public 
 when he descanted upon the foibles of the age. But he had 
 no dialectic faculty ; he had no hands to grapple with an oppo- 
 nent ; no power of planting his foot steadily upon the ground ; 
 and, when assailed, no command of the controversial vocabulary 
 to hurl against an adversary. When he entered upon any 
 question of divinity, he was generally prolix, even dry and 
 tedious ; and his sprightly wit, which was entirely pictorial, 
 forsook him. And this was the man who, in an evil hour, en- 
 countered the most tremendous polemic of the age, or of any 
 age ! He committed an amusing blunder at the very outset. 
 His " Diatribe," or " Collatio," as he called it, was a very 
 short and feeble performance, consisting only of 32 folio 
 pages. That he really had a great deal more to say for him- 
 self upon the subject, is plain ; for he afterwards came forward 
 with his " Hyperaspistes," an immensely long perform- 
 ance, extending to 285 folio pages. But it was too late. Luther 
 had at once seen his advantage. The slender divine had step- 
 ped out slip-shod, with what, on the face of it, was the feeble 
 prelude of a defence for the worst of all causes. The German 
 reformer brought at once the whole heavy artillery of his argu^ 
 ment to bear upon him, and so entirely demolished his adver- 
 sary, that the public never cared to look at the more elaborate 
 defence, nor did Luther ever condescend to reply to it. Indeed 
 (so unfortunate was the author of the " The Praise ofFolli/'), the 
 " De Servo Arbitrio" of Luther is, by general confession, one 
 of his most powerful performances. Were it not that one re- 
 members the inequality of his antagonist, and feels some sen- 
 timent of compassion, nothing can excite more unqualified 
 admiration than to see every erroneous statement in succes- 
 sion put fiors de combat by a dialectic power that was irre- 
 sistible. 
 
 " Erasmus. I define free will to be a certain power in man's will, 
 such that he can either apply himself to things belonging to his ever- 
 lasting salvation, or the reverse. 
 
 " Luther. Your definition does not cover the thing you define ; and 
 is therefore logically false. That a man have free will in divine 
 things implies, in common parlance, that he can do what he likes 
 without being restrained by any law or commandment of God. Would 
 yon call a servant who must obey his master free ? How^much less 
 man or the angels, who are absolutely under law to God ? There is 
 thus a flaw in your definition at the very outset. You propose to 
 
530 Erasmus. 
 
 define the freedom of the will, and what you define is rather the verti- 
 bility of the will. Passing that, you say that man can apply himself, or 
 the reverse, to the things that belong to his salvation. Paul declares, 
 on the contrary, that these things are incomprehensible by the natural 
 man. If man can will or not will in refer^ce to these things, then 
 he can love or hate. If he can love or hate, he can in part obey the 
 law and believe in the gospel. You run ahead of the Pelagians. The 
 free will which they idolised consisted of two parts — a power of dis- 
 cerning and a power of choosing ; and- they ascribed the one to the 
 understanding, and the other to the will. You overlook the first of 
 them, and make a god of one half of the free will. Next, you run 
 ahead of all the philosophers. They never asserted that anything could 
 move itself. This free will of yours puts itself in motion with a ven- 
 geance, setting off' upon a journey to the eternal and the incompre- 
 hensible 1 
 
 " Erasmus. Three opinions have been held upon the freedom of the 
 will. The first of them is that man cannot will what is good ; and I 
 adopt this opinion, but it is rather harshly stated, and I accept it with 
 this qualification, that though man has not strength of himself to will 
 what is good, there is an attempting or aiming in thM direction. The 
 second opinion, is harsher still, that the will of man is free only to sin, 
 and that grace alone can operate any good in us. The third is hard- 
 est of all, that there is no such thing as free will ; that it is a word 
 without meaning, and that God works both our good and evil works 
 in us. 
 
 " Luther. You say that the first of these opinions is probable, 
 enough. How do you reconcile that with your former definition. 
 You said that free will was a power in man's will, such that he could 
 apply himself to what is good. Now, you say and hold it pro- 
 bable, that man cannot of himself will what is good. Your definition 
 affirms what your representation of it denies. You are like one who, 
 between snoring and waking, cries out now one thing and now another. 
 I am perhaps not Latin or German scholar enough ; but, before God, 
 I can see no difference between your two last opinions and your first. 
 What you call three opinions, are just one. If you grant that man's ' 
 free will is such since the fall that he cannot will what is good, what 
 is this but to say that there is no such thing as free will, that it is a 
 name without any meaning ? You say that there is an aiming and 
 attempting after what is good. And pray what is this ? A good aim, 
 a good attempt, it cannot be ; for you granted that men cannot will 
 what is good. Then it must be a bad aim, and a bad attempt. 
 
 " Erasmus. God says by Moses (Deut. xxx. 15), ' See, I have set 
 before thee this day life and good, death and evil — choose that which 
 is good,' &c. So in other parts of the Bible. What can be plainer than 
 this ? There is left with men the liberty of choosing the good. 
 
 " Luther. When God commands anything, it does not follow that 
 we are able to do the thing commanded. Heap up all the impera- 
 tives of the Bible into one mass, I just say that they point out what man 
 ought to do, not what man can do. You always suppose a man who 
 either can do all things, or at least knows that he cannot. There is 
 
Tlie HyperaspiMes. 531 
 
 no such man. Man, according to the Bible, is not only blind, sick, 
 and dead, but believes himself to have sight, to be in good health, and 
 alive. The imperatives are intended to teach us our impotency." 
 
 It is thus that Luther throughout subjects him again and again 
 to that painful process of grappling which he was, of all men, 
 least able to bear, or constitutionally disposed to relish. He 
 was indignant at this treatment. What galled him most was, 
 that the Treatise of Luther was written in a more polished 
 style than he usually adopted. He maintained that he had 
 been assisted by one whom he calls Logodoadalus, who added 
 the rhetorical varnish, and whom he professed to know well 
 enough. If the composition was more than usually happy, 
 and embellished with the graces of rhetoric, Erasmus might 
 have had the gallantry to ascribe this to the softer influences 
 of the hour when it was written. Luther had just been married 
 to Catherine von Bora. But Erasmus took another view of it. 
 " In the very time of his nuptials," says he, " he wrote this 
 furious ebullition ; and yet the good man thinks it composed 
 with so much decency, mildness, and moderation, that in a 
 letter to me he has almost required me to return him thanks 
 for sparing me in so many respects, and he protests and expects 
 me to believe that he has the most friendly disposition towards 
 me ! Thus his spouse has tamed him." The Hyperaspistes, 
 or defence of Erasmus, as already stated, is a very long and 
 tedious performance. His argumentation is extended after the 
 obsolete style of the Fathers ; and was so entirely unsuited to 
 the new mode of polemical warfare, already introduced in those 
 more earnest times, that it looks like the fleet of Xerxes, 
 which is said to have consisted of 1200 ships of war, and 3000 
 ships of burthen, and to have contained 700,000 infantry and 
 400,000 cavalry of undisciplined slaves. To change the his- 
 torical illustration : when one looks upon this vast, unreadable 
 production, he feels as if Erasmus had resorted to the same 
 desperate kind of defence which his illustrious fellow-country- 
 man, the Prince of Orange, adopted against Louis XIV., when 
 he cast down the dykes and inundated Holland. Still, the very 
 elaboration of this work proves that Erasmus was not the in- 
 different Epicurean which Luther imagined. He held his 
 views, such as they were, with all the obstinacy of a Dutchman. 
 
 The OoUoquia of Erasmus had been given to the world some 
 years before this. A book intended for the young, and con- 
 taining an exposure of the superstitions and follies of the age 
 in a serious of lively and amusing dialogues, it was anotl^er 
 step in his persistent plan of seeking to reform the times, 
 leisurely, and by pleasant ridicule, rather than by what he 
 considered the violent and revolutionary methods of the 
 
532 Erasmus. 
 
 Reformers. Artillery had been introduced into the warfare ; 
 but he preferred standing apart on his favourite perch, and 
 annoying the rear with a flight of arrows. " The Colloquies of 
 Erasmus," says one writer, " have made more Protestants than 
 the ten tomes of Calvin." This is an unqualified assertion. 
 But they had an incredible sale, and produced an unprecedented 
 sensation. No wonder ! Even as read in our own day, the 
 work possesses a singular charm. It contains some pieces en- 
 titling it to be considered, for graceful composition, and enter- 
 taining instruction, the Spectator of the sixteenth century. 
 The Dialogues are not mere didactic and elegant conversations. 
 The parties introduced are strongly marked characters ; as 
 living as the creations of Shakespeare ; as generic as the im- 
 personations of Bunyan. As this work of Erasmus, once so 
 popular, has almost fallen into oblivion, we may perhaps be 
 pardoned for enlivening the pages of our grave periodical with 
 one or two illustrations, though we must premise that it is 
 hardly possible, in a translation, to convey a true idea of the 
 sparkling wit of the original. 
 
 In his dialogue entitled The Shipwreck, his object is to ex- 
 pose the folly of praying to the Virgin Mary and the other 
 saints. Adolphus narrates to his friend -4 iitomus the scenes 
 he had witnessed on board a ship that was wrecked. After 
 describing the tempest itself, with great force of imagination, 
 the dialogue proceeds thus : — 
 
 Adolf. " I could not help smiling to hear one of them who, at the 
 pitch of his voice, vowed to St Christopher that he would furnish his 
 temple with a wax candle as big as his own body. As he was thus 
 exclaiming, his next neighbour, touching him on the elbow, advised 
 him to be cautious, as he might be ruined by such an expensive offer- 
 ing. Upon this, lowering his voice, as if he were afraid that 
 Christopher might hear him, he said, ' Tush, man, do you think I 
 really mean what I say ? Once ashore, not a rush-light shall he get 
 from me.' 
 
 Anton. " A Dutchman, I warrant yon ?" 
 
 " No ; he was a Zealander." 
 
 "It is strange that none of them thought of calling upon the 
 apostle Paul; he narrowly escaped shipwreck, and would naturally 
 feel for them most." 
 
 " There was no mention made ot Paul." 
 
 " Did they pray, meanwhile ?" 
 
 " Lustily. One cried, ' Salve Kegina ;' another, ' I believe in God ;' 
 and others had little prayers of their own for times of danger." 
 
 " What did you do yourself ? Did you not vow to any of the 
 saints ?" 
 
 " Not I." 
 
 " Why so ?" 
 
 " Because I don't fancy this kind of saint-bargaining, for such it is. 
 
The Colloquies. 533 
 
 ' I give you this if you do so and so,' or ' [ will do this if you do 
 that.' ' I give you a wax caudle if you float me ashore.' " 
 " But surely you prayed to one of the saints ?" 
 
 " No, indeed, I did not." 
 
 " And what might be your reason, pray ?" 
 
 " Why, you see, heaven is a large place. If I began committing 
 myself to any of the saints, say St Peter, who would be hkeliest to 
 hear me first, as he stands at the gate, I might be gone before he got 
 the length of God. Among all the passengers the most composed 
 was a woman with a child in her arms." 
 
 " And what about her ?' 
 
 " She did not cry out like the rest ; she uttered no vows, and did 
 not give way to tears, but seemed to be praying with her heart. 
 Meanwhile the ship came bump upon the bottom of the sea, and the 
 shipmaster, fearing she would go to pieces, got her bound with cables 
 from prow to stern ?" 
 
 " Poor protectors these !" 
 
 " And now a priest, about sixty years old, called Adam, sprang to 
 his feet, stripped to the shirt, and bade us all follow his example, and 
 prepare to swim. Standing 'midships, he, at the same time, harangued 
 us all upon the five points of Gerson on the advantage of confession, 
 advising us to prepare for life or death. There was a Dominican 
 alongside of him, and such as wished to confess went up to them." 
 
 " And did you go ?" 
 
 " There was such a confusion, that I preferred confessing to God 
 in private. While all this was going forward, a sailor came up, with 
 tears in his eyes, and cried, ' Make ready, one and all, for the ship 
 •will go down in a quarter of an hour.' Shortly after he returned, 
 reporting that he saw a sacred building ahead, and said we should do 
 well to cry out for help to the saint it belonged to, whoever he might 
 be ; upon which the whole company, getting on their knees, prayed to 
 this saint, whom not a soul knew-anything of." 
 
 " Now, if they had only known his name, he might have heard 
 them." 
 
 " Yes ; but they knew nothing about him " 
 
 " And how many, then, were saved at last ?" 
 
 " Seven ; but two died on the sudden change to heat, when brought 
 to the fire that had been kindled on the shore." 
 
 " And how many passengers were on board ?" 
 
 " Fifty-eight." 
 
 " Oh the rapacious deep ! it might have been satisfied with a tenth, 
 . for that satisfies even the priests." • 
 
 Erasmus was a man of peace. The following dialogue 
 between Hanno and Thrasymachus contains some good hits 
 at the profession of arms : — 
 
 Hanno. " How is this ? You left us a Mercury, and have come 
 
 home a Vulcan." 
 
 Thrasym. " Mercury ! Vulcan ! what do you mean ?" 
 
 " Why, that when you left us you went so nimbly along the road, 
 
 as if you had wings, and now you are lame." 
 
634 Erasmus. 
 
 " It's the usual fate of those who go to the wars." 
 
 " What took yoQ there ? You were always a timid^ sort of 
 fellow ?" 
 
 " Aye ; hut there was the hope of plunder to make me bold." 
 
 " And have you brought home much booty with you ?" 
 
 " Nothing but an empty purse." 
 
 " Well ; you have the less to burden you, good friend." 
 
 " But the worst of it is, that I have brought home a burden of 
 guilt upon my back." 
 
 " A heavy burden, truly ; for, as the prophet says, Sin is lead." 
 
 " I saw and did more wickedness there than ever before in my 
 life." 
 
 " What is your opinion of the soldier's life ?" 
 
 " That it is'the most wretched and wicked of all lives." 
 
 " How is it, then, that so many enter the service? is it for the 
 pay, or for what reason ?" 
 
 " For no reason that I can fathom, except that they are possessed, 
 and have devoted themselves to the infernal gods, and expect to meet 
 them there." 
 
 " Such, indeed, would seem to be the fact. No sum of money will 
 induce them to enter upon an honest calling. But would you give 
 me some account of the battle you were engaged in ? Which side 
 won ?" 
 
 " Why, you see, there was such a racket and Babel of confusion, 
 trumpets sounding, horns blowing, horses neighing, and men shouting, 
 that, as I live, I could see nothing that was going forward — scarcely, 
 in fact, knew where I was." 
 
 " How can others, then, who have been at the wars, give us such 
 particular accounts, telling us what this and the other man said and 
 did, as if they had been in all parts of the field, looking on at their 
 leisure." 
 
 " Notorious liars all of them in my opinion. I can swear to what 
 was done in the tent, but will affirm nothing as to what went forward 
 in the engagement." 
 
 " But you can tell me at least how you came by your lame leg ?" - 
 
 " As I hope to be saved in the wars, that is more than I know ; 
 either by a stone, or the kick of a horse, I suspect." 
 
 " But I know." 
 
 " You don't say so ? Who told you, now ?" 
 
 " Nobody, but I have a guess." 
 
 " How then ?" 
 
 " You were flying in terror, and fell down upon a stone." 
 
 "As sure's death you have hit upon the truth. That was most 
 probably the way of it." 
 
 " My advice is, that you go home to your wife, and tell her of your 
 exploits." 
 
 " I am likely to have small thanks from her, for I have brought 
 home no money." 
 
 " But how are you to make restitution for -v^at you have stolen in 
 the wars ?" 
 
 " No difficulty there ; it is all restituted already." 
 
TJie CoNoquies. 535 
 
 " Into whose hands ?" 
 " Whores, tapsters, and gamblers.'' 
 
 " But had yoa no fear, as to what might become of your soul, if 
 you happened to be killed." 
 
 " I had no great concern upon that score. My soul was safe 
 enough. I had taken care on an occasion to commit it to St Barbara." 
 " But did she undertake to keep it ?" 
 " I am confident she gave me a slight nod of her head." 
 " About what time of the day was that, now ? Was it in the 
 morning ?" 
 
 " No ; it was after dinner.'' 
 
 " I thought so ; and by that time I suppose you seemed to see 
 the very trees dancing before your eyes ?" 
 " Now, to think how he finds out things." 
 
 " Without joking, however, there can be no absolution for a sinner 
 like you unless you go to Kome ?" 
 " A shorter journey will do my turn." 
 " How so ?" 
 
 " I will go to the Dominicals, and have a word or two with the 
 commissaries." 
 
 " But suppose you have been guilty of sacrilege ?" 
 " No matter ; though I had robbed Christ himself, and taken his 
 head'off, liiey give indulgences to any extent, and can make compen- 
 sation enough." 
 
 " Yes ; but the question is whether God will accept it." 
 " Nay ; if the devil hold it good, that is the great matter, and the 
 only thing I am afraid of. God is naturally of a more merciful dis- 
 position." 
 
 Such was Erasmus, " a man of infinite jest." Nor was his 
 mirth, perhaps, without its use. In the dreadful conflict then 
 waging between truth and error, the mind of man could 
 scarcely bear the strain to which it was subjected ; fierce passions 
 raged on the one side, and passions not unmixed with infirmity 
 meeting them on the other, the white^flashing foam of the con- 
 tending tides, as they mounted together, was fearful to behold ,; 
 -> the very air was pregnant with elements of electric fire, destined 
 /^ to purify, dreadful in the mean time ; but the playful spirit of 
 this witty man, who in sooth had no contemporary, came in to 
 soften the agitating strife. The world, even as it then stood, was 
 forced to laugh, and laughter has its own good ofiices to per- 
 form ; the reformers, relaxing their stern foreheads, smiled for 
 a moment in the midst of battle; even the monks smiled, 
 though the wit was at their own expense; and the combatants, 
 on both sides, were reminded of that common humanity which 
 we ought never to forget. 
 
 It is when we regard such gay satirical effusions as forming 
 a large part of the contribution Erasmus made for the advance- 
 ment of the Keformation, that we must deplore and condemn 
 
536 Erasrmts. 
 
 them. His diagnosis of the distempers that had taken hold of 
 the vitals of the clmrch must have been amazingly superficial, 
 when he expecte^Fto cure them by such remedies. Another 
 melancholy refle'ction is, that the a,uthor of the witty dialogues, 
 who levels his satire so sharply against the evils of supersti- 
 tion, shoulc^ have remained a member of the church which 
 countenaiafced them, and should have sanctioned them as occa- 
 sion serVed, by his own example. When at Canterbury, we are 
 informed that, in order to shew that he was still a good Catholic, 
 he kissed the shoe of St Thomas a Becket. " Uon't kiss the 
 sho/ and laugh at it too," as. a late writer remarks, " Luther 
 W9«ld not have done that." /And here let us just sum up the 
 c)(iaracter of Erasmus, as it presents itself to us, after this brief 
 §tetch. We have already expressed an unwillingness to believe 
 /that he was a sceptic ; but, in his practice, and in his manner 
 of holding his opinions, he certainly shewed a laxity of con- 
 ' science which cannot be too decisively condemned. We would 
 not be so harsh as to say, that he preferred literature to 
 religion, for, though he sometimes seemed to tremble more 
 for the safety of learning than for the safety of the Ark, when 
 both had been carried out into the field, we must in charity 
 remember that he considered the downfall of the first as fraught 
 with danger to the other. But even this was an unworthy 
 sentiment; and the love of learning held in his bosom, to 
 say the least of it, a most dangerous ascendancy. We have 
 called attention to the fact, that he never was of the same 
 doctrinal sentiments with the Eeformers, and this saves him 
 from the charge of a w^lfyl Trinl!j,|.ifm. r^f Tijp m»m convictions ■ 
 in standing aloof from therir? but it brings him of course 
 under another charge, — that of heresy — and this after fuller 
 opportunities than most heretics have enjoyed of being de- 
 livered from their delusions. He was influenced by an 
 ignominious fear, partly leading him, though not perhaps* 
 consciously to shut out the light ; certainly preventing him 
 from testifying, as he ought to have done, against the dark- 
 ness. Finally, and here we tread upon the most delicate 
 ground of all, we would not take upon us to say (for we are 
 not Erasmus's judge; we judge no man) that his mind was 
 never enlightened to see the thing§ of the Spirit of God (that 
 was the term Luther employed, and we use it advisedly), but 
 the subjective operation must have been partial, .otherwise he 
 would have shewn a deeper insight into the gospel thain his 
 writings display, and a higher Christian courage, — there would 
 have been more disposition to go forward, and more walking 
 straight so far as he went, — less jesting and more confession, — 
 a more decisive character, in short, and (we may be pardoned 
 for adding) less difficulty in describing it, /■ 
 
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